Category: Beth

Proving nothing

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There are lots of studies that prove nothing, but how often do you see them reported in the news?

Actually, this is an important study in one respect… it’s proof that I was right (restoring the natural order), and it’s timely (given the start of school today – in these parts): it makes no difference wether Beth does her homework on her bed.

Here’s to me.

McClatchy Washington Bureau | 08/21/2007 | Does studying in bed hurt grades?

So what did Gifford discover in his eight-college study habit survey titled “The Bed or the Desk?”

“No difference between them” when it came to GPA, Gifford and his psychology department mentor, Robert Sommer, wrote in the May 1968 issue of Personnel and Guidance Journal. It’s the only widely known serious examination of the bed-desk question.

Gifford and Sommer found that of the above-average scholars surveyed, half studied at their desks and half studied on their beds. Among the below-average students, 47 percent studied abed and 53 percent studied at their desks.

Another first day

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I brought my daughter to school today, continuing a five year trend. Summer vacation ended, and fifth grade started today.

Every year I feel really bad that summer vacation is over. While I want them to go to school and soak up every last bit of wisdom, I want them to be happy too… and who doesn’t think summer vacation is fun?

Last year I did a mental double-take realizing Beth was starting fourth grade, so I can’t be that surprised that one more year has passed, can I? Then again, I can’t help but wonder how many more times I’ll get to take her to school on a “first day,” or how many times she’ll want me to. Being a parent to young kids can be a blast. To them you are the coolest thing going. But something dark and sinister is lurking… adolescence. My cool days are getting scarce. Some day soon I’ll be “the old man.”

Acceding to my wife’s demands

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First of all, I’d like to give myself a great big pat on the back for spelling “acceding” correctly on the first try. I have it on good authority that if there’s a gene responsible for good spelling, the Kauffman family doesn’t have it.

So what is this demand and why am I acceding to it? You wouldn’t know it from this site, but my wife has a lot to say about what I write. I tell her she should post comments, and she tells me she’s not going to communicate with me through no stinking blog. Sheesh!

Lately, my wife – critic extraordinaire – has been on me for something without political flavor. I asked her why, and she says she hears me talk about it all the time, she doesn’t need to read it too. Fair enough. Although it’s not my primary goal with this thing, I suppose I can throw an entertaining bone (forgive me for my presumptuousness) to someone who makes up a large percentage of my regular readership.

Yesterday Cheryl took our eldest for an overdue eye exam (I may not be able to spell, but I have no need for regular pilgrimages to the local lens-crafter – HA! TAKE THAT!). Any hoo, Cheryl and Beth both got the windows to their soul properly measured and analyzed, and Beth was distressed to learn that her eyes were once again a little worse. The lenscrafter tried to explain to her that it was normal for folks’ eyesight to get a little worse over time, and that her eyes were following the typical pattern. Beth (who does have the Kauffman gene for anxiety) was having none of it. As is Beth’s way, she laid her own brand of shock an awe on the lenscrafter, in the form of a saturation bombing of questions. “Why are my eyes getting worse?” “Will they always get worse?” “How bad will they get?” “Will I go blind?” “How long do I have before I need to wear glasses all the time?” “Will I be able to were contacts?” “Do they hurt?”

The Lenscrafter showed exemplary patience, but with Beth there’s always a question that breaks down the barriers of sanity. On this day, it came shortly after Beth shared her fear that she would not be able to fly into space if her eyesight got too bad.

“If I get Lasik will I still be able to be an astronaut?”

“Honey, they don’t do Lasik on children. You can worry about that when you’re an adult.”

This person obviously doesn’t know Beth.

Cheryl is my wife and she approved this message.

A new video

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I haven’t fooled around with iMovie in a while, so I figured I’d give it a whirl. This represents the last year or so in the Kauffman Household (v 2.2.2), from Adam’s last birthday (his second), to last night.

NOTE: the lighting is terrible, and it’s pretty standard fare as far as family movies go – so don’t expect too much.

Not your father’s Friday

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In the last 24 hours I’ve had two phone conversations with my children.

Beth hasn’t been sleeping at night and needed another run down of all the drugs I’m taking, how they work, and why they’ll make me better.

Beth is a happy child; everyone usually says so.

So it broke my heart to hear the anxiety in her voice, and not be able to take it away.

Adam has been telling everyone that my wife “is on her way to pick up daddy.” He asked me if I was picking him up after work today.

Adam is a lovable little boy; someone you can come home and just squeeze, and who can sometimes give as good as he gets.

So it broke my heart to tell him no, and not be able to do damn thing for the terrible understanding I heard in his little boy voice.

Right now… perhaps now more than ever, I need a really big squeeze.

Surely this can not last

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Recently seen in the Kauffman house: Beth and Adam fighting over who got to take out the garbage. Mind you, they weren’t arguing over who HAD to take out the garbage, but who GOT to take out the garbage… like it was a privilege, not a chore.

It’d be really something if this trend continued.

“No, I WANT to carry in the groceries.”

“No, I WANT to take a shower first.”

“No, I WANT to do the laundry.”

“No, I WANT to mow the lawn.”

“No, I WANT to take care of mom and dad financially when they retire.”

The exception to the rule

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Sometimes the hit flows up-shill.

Case in point:
Beth has a class project for her “gifted” class. She comes up with an idea and makes a blueprint. When she gets to a point that’s outside her expertise… namely: designing her presentation props in Microsoft Office – she enlists the help of Cheryl.

At this point, the assignment becomes Cheryl’s project. She takes the blueprint designed by Beth and enters the necessary data in a Word document. When she gets to a point that’s outside her expertise… namely: formatting the document so everything fits – she enlists the help of her husband.

At this point, the assignment becomes MY project… and I want to know why I’ve got a school project due thirteen years after I graduated.

If you do your child’s homework, they’ll get a good grade. But if you show them how to turn the computer on, they’ll figure out how to play a lot of online games and remember every fracking product web address flashed on the boob-tube… and you’ll end up doing the next damn project anyway.