Category Archive

First, a bit of business: I had a lovely and hilarious post about last week’s ANTM and WordPress ate it.  I seemed to have been publishing at the exact moment that they were upgrading b/c my post vanished and when I logged in again, everything on the control panel looked different.  And I don’t like the new set up.  Hmpf.

Second, for the title of the post, I owe gratitude to Brawndo. And also to my sad competitive nature.  I was never any good at any sports and thus quickly stopped participating in them (b/c how fun is it to suck at something?  not).  This leaves me competing at utterly stupid things like bulletin boards.  I must create the best board in the school.  The teachers, when they walk past, must know that they have been soundly defeated.  They must know that I am the coolest parent in the school and they must beg the principal to put my kids in their classes.  It helps that putting up bulletin boards and doing art projects gives me excuses to go into the educational supply store.  I long to fully equip an elementary classroom with cool supplies.  But no children may mess them up.  Shoo, messy children.  Where was I?  Oh yes…I win!  For this month’s art class, I introduced the kids to Keith Haring (funny story: Lily’s teacher looked up Haring on the internet to see how to spell his name.  The site she went to had an advisory about mature content.  She was relating the tale of our class and her search to the principal who exclaimed, “She didn’t show explicit material to the kids, did she?”  Nice.  yeah, if I don’t show the kids a poster of two cartoon men jacking one another off, who will?).  I had them pose in front of an overhead projector and another mom and I traced them.  Then we each took home a pile and gave them a thicker outline and cut them out.  Then I arranged them on the wall!  Behold:

I love it.  I’m hoping that a photographer at the school can take a photo of it more straight-on so that we can blow it up and sell it at the silent auction.  The kids, of course, have much to say about it, they were far more engaged by the end-product of this project than any of the others we’ve done.  Which is nice, of course, but the important thing?  I win.

We were at the Philadelphia Art Museum yesterday. Lily wanted to see some real Mondrian, Ben wanted to see the armor, and we all could use an excursion. Lily was satisfied by a cursory glance at the Mondrians (”Yep, there they are!”) and we moved on to the armor. I’d seen it years ago and didn’t expect to care to see it again (given that I no longer have need to determine which style my D&D character would most likely sport), but it really was pretty cool. It’s one of those “Holy cow, this is OLD. And this detail was added by the hand of an actual person” moments. Somehow the handiwork of regular men and women (armor, tapestry) is more awe-inspiring than the work of an artist to me…but anyway. On to the funny.

We were standing in front of a case in which there were these wee metal domes. They looked like helmets for cats. Ben asked what they were and I read the little sign that identified them as codpieces. “What’s a codpiece?”

“Well, see how the armor leaves this area totally open? That’s where his penis and scrotum would be and he really, really doesn’t want to get hit there.”

Steve cuts in, “It’s a cup.”

Ben: “I do NOT want to drink out of that cup! I mean, WHO would drink out of a cup like that?!”

Son, that is what the internet is FOR.

Had a lesson in “Why I am not a Kindergarten teacher” today. I was back for my monthly art lesson with Lily’s class. Today, we talked about the art of Piet Mondrian (specifically his works that look like the side of the Partridge Family’s bus ) and learned about parallel and perpendicular. I open my little lessons by reading Bob Raczka’s No One Saw. The text of the book runs along the lines of “No one saw flowers like Georgia O’Keefe” and then there’s a picture of an O’Keefe flower. Today after every line, they’re hitting me with “I do.”

“No one saw mothers like Mary Cassatt”

“I do.”

“No one saw Sundays like George Seurat.”

“I do.”

“No one saw trains like Rene Magritte.”

“I do.”

“Really Quinn? Have you seen a train coming out of a fire place? Really? Because I think you lie. Liar liar pants on fire!” Ahem.

But I get through it. I keep it light. I keep my humor appropriate to small children. I give each of them a 12×12 square of paper with 1 inch grid drawn on. They sit quietly and await instruction. No, no they don’t. They wave the papers in the air and put them on their heads and generally behave like the toilet-trained chimps they are. I do that teacher thing of standing still and silent. They quiet down. (I think this may be some prey-animal instinct. The predator has crouched and is still. We’d better stop flitting about before she pounces on us. ) I pass out red, yellow, and blue squares and rectangles. Before I hand out the glue sticks (because once they have a material in their hands, they begin to use it. Stupid Montessori), I tell them that they will be putting the shapes within the lines of the grid. I demonstrate at each table. Give them the Goofus and Gallant versions. Then I get the glue sticks. Of course, they start slapping them on any old way, but I’m cheery and light, “Okay guys, I know that usually I let you go your own way on these, but this lesson is about parallel and perpendicular. Remember? Keep it in the lines.” And I go table to table. They’re putting one shape on top of another, they’re trying to just hoarde the shapes, they’re gluing both front and back. One of the girls at Lily’s table has folded rectangles like cards and is giving them to her tablemates. Much little girl squeeing. Then she has to take one she’d given to Lily. The tears. Lily, do you SEE the other little rectangles in a pile in front of you? And where did the paper come from in the first place? Your house. That’s right. oy.

Then it was time for the black strips of paper. I had cut them all 1/2 inch by 12 inches. I gave 5 to each kid and then told them that they could cut them to make them shorter if they needed to. I was not specific enough. Lily’s table was cutting confetti. Another boy cut his, jaggedly, up the middle, leading to his gluing down stringy triangles. I’m feeling that old feeling of the first time your first kid is using watercolors and won’t rinse the brush and all the colors turn grey. Of the first playdough that all turns grey. I’ve made all the other projects Super Mellow. I just. wanted. some. damned. lines. When I gave them a pencil with which to write their names on one of the white spots of their pictures, I was specific–”Write JUST your name. Don’t decorate any more of the picture. JUST your name.” One kid wrote hers alllll the way across the page. Another wrote hers 4 times… So it seems that control freaks shouldn’t teach art to children. Next lesson, I’m going to let them draw to music. Totally free. all their own. Lets see how they are able to defy me THERE. HAH!

Anyway, here’s the bulletin board:

Tonight, in honor of the final night of the Festival of Lights, we ate the food of the Sephardic Jews. Spanish Lentil soup was met with mixed enthusiasm. Ben an I gobbled it down. Julianna and Steve ate politely. Lily tried to get it away from her as if it might become sentient and attack. Sephardic Spinach Patties or Croquetas de Espinaca were beloved by all but Ben. Apparently in some Spanish Jewish houses, these are made instead of latkes. Which is just nuts, as they taste not at all like french fries.

Tonight was my monthly trip in to Lily’s class to teach them about a famous artist and make a huge artist-inspired mess. Today was Jackson Pollack, which meant an ENORmous mess. Much paint slinging. I showed them a youtube video of Pollack in action. I figured they’d zero in on how he was just winging the paint all over the place or at least the fact that he had a cigarette in his mouth. But no. “Wow! He has a big nose!” and then much exclaiming about the nose. And one little boy who kept moaning, “His shoes! Look at his shoes!” It was kind of funny in light of the fact that Converse had a Chuck Taylor ad featuring Pollack, wearing his Chucks, painting. I always thought “An enormous tool that makes, let’s face it, hideous art, wears your shoes? I must have them!” Seriously, it’s not exactly “James Dean wore khakis” now is it?