วันอังคารที่ 13 ตุลาคม พ.ศ. 2552

Dewey Decimel Debacle

As a newly appointed parent stay at home, in a new city, I am desperately looking for ways to enrich "my children's lives, that is, we (I really need) to regularly leave the house. Whether an exotic cactus show or opening a car wash, I will take my children to anything that seems remotely amusing, or holds the promise of a free balloon. I make a practice of cleaning the local rags to our next social find to fix. One day I had a wonderful discovery. How could I have missed it?It's perfect, education, potentially addictive and has an age group, that both my 20 months old and my three years old. Library story time, every mother's best friend.

The following Wednesday morning we will have our way into the children's section of the local library. A young, but bald man with glasses approached us. He had the body of an apologetic question mark, which would then make a statement on point, but he was drawn, as he was dragged. "Are you here for story time?" heasked in a flat voice and a fleeting smile. I was reminded Ross from Friends. "Yes!" I said enthusiastically throw his way, hoping he would catch a humming. "Well, we are starting 10 minutes," he said, and turned away. I thought a note of anxiety in his voice. I was concerned until I looked around to see who on the journey: Several young children, especially boys who are cooped up of middle-aged mothers. "Okay," I thought, "there must be something about this, or theyI would not be here. "

We then heard what sounded like an angry customer, a bell rang for the service. I soon realized, it rings the tune of "Jingle Bells". Given it was February, it was confusing, but strangely in force. The mothers and infants, it was quiet and shy young man known we met that time, he had to follow. We obeyed, and found ourselves in a community where chairs were set perfectly in a semicircle in front of an empty seat. I searched the room to get aView of the storyteller. I was looking for a wise grandmother with a great voice and smile. Not be found. Hmm, maybe it is a young woman in a colorful skirt, waiting patiently, with her guitar. No. A clown? Nada. The heavy door shut, and I realized that the young horse was.

The wind began to slowly seep into my sails. I glanced behind his chair and saw that both his attitude and his book collection, he has no children and probably not even confirmed by an uncle.It was a book on the Asian New Year, for an audience that does not really understand what is today, and a book of Chinese recipes to an audience that is not allowed near a hot stove. But were buried under three giant, colorful books that looked promising. I told myself to remain optimistic, but still checked my Smarties hiding place in case there was ugly. The young man made a great gesture on a portable CD player on a table nearby. "Okay, let's shake the sillies out!" he said,clumsy hand shook like a cigarette burn too low on his fingers. With the other hand, he pulled out a switch and all of us after the song, clapping and shaking our sillies. The song held the final, making us yawn "our sillies out. I have my kids just jump to the amusement of the woman with two boys next to me who followed. Then leaned over and told me that was two years ago, told Time, "amazing" and now she is fighting the urge to grab the book from him and read theStories themselves. I laughed softly, but strangely fascinated to come. The song turned and we found out how happy we were with our hands clapping and stamping feet. According to his intermittent applause, it seemed that the young horse was the unhappiest person in the room.

When the song finished, he went to the empty space. "Okay, I'm reading," he said strained through the voices of children, of whom no response to this announcement is not enthused. "Listen to me now ... I havethe book, he slipped, barely disguise his frustration. The parents did their best to calm the group. He grabbed the book on the Asian New Year. " Okay, I do not know if it is the Asian New Year or Chinese New Year. "This is a friendly older woman said with an adopted Chinese son:" Chinese. "" Oh, okay, Chinese New Year. And I think it is the year of the monkey? "He hesitated." I think it is the Year of the Ox, "said a woman who seemed everything was ready, the exchange of information of allType "I heard it on the radio." "No, it is the Year of the Pig," said another woman. I thought that if only young Ross had the means available to check out before we started, perhaps a library? As a former teacher, I crawled into my seat and kept me from not only grabbed the book from him, but to beat him on the head. As part of the adults are trying to fight politely, over which it had been years, the children went haywire. All but my youngest, the whole thoughtExperience was amazing, no matter how unlucky he was. She wanted only to dance, and she got her wish. "I think we need to shake the sillies again," he said and quickly stepped on the CD player. I wondered whether it could shake a machine that fools out of us and they push the young horse. After we "yawn" out of it, he returned to his seat and began mixing with the books.

"Well, the book is a recipe, but, uh ... maybe not," he said, and tossed it aside. Myoldest struck her with his hand over his eyes. "What about one of the great books?" Mother suggested politely. We are all invited to the agreement. The children applauded when he a big, colorful book about the woman who swallowed a fly opening. This reaction registered success with Ross. He became almost animated when he read about unusual eating habits of women. But with each turn of the page, he remained a little too long to die, "maybe she will," she said, each time with a serious look. Anxious to see spreadFaces of young children. When the woman ate the horse, he managed to kill them, the space and its dynamics. "She's dead of course," he said. Forced to think of death, the children were discouraged. "So she went to God?" Said my oldest. "Why did she have to die?" said another girl. One boy began to cry. Ross Young once took a giant book with a red barn on the cover. Skilled in the art of distraction, I started making animal noises and other mothers joined "Hey, yeah, Let's Make Someanimal sounds. What does a cow say? "He said. Forgotten several strains of wild and tame animals, the children about death, and the sweat ran down his forehead stopped Ross'.

After the animals went into the barn book to bed, he suddenly closed the book and told us that was the day craft a lantern. He hastened issued share precut construction paper, a photo copy of the desired result, and a stapler to. Return to the CD player, he said, "Okay, the next group starts in ten minutes." Momsshot each other looks confused when we started frantically assembling. Fortunately, the music drowns out the complaints. "What are we supposed to do with it?" hissed a woman to her neighbor, holding paper. "I'm just pushing them in. I can not wait for that stapler," answered the woman. My oldest anxiously stood over me as I rushed to get to before we were pushed two out of the door. Her sister, with no demands on his time, wild, dancing to the songs in the background. Theyshe saw Barney, which further strengthened in her mind that she was really in her element. In the long pause between the "Itsy Bitsy Spider" and "Five Little Monkeys" I'm convinced they, in the Central Library with the other parents and kids head.

Like the rest of us left and the first leaked to the next group in, I looked back and saw a mixed expression of relief and anxiety in the face of young Ross. I asked my three years old when she thought it was fun. "Yeah, sure," she said makes senseswinging my makeshift lantern. Of course she had nothing to compare them. For me it was a train wreck. So why all these women have time and again? Why was I given back? I think it is because mothers who used false starts, we will anxiously attempt and support. We see our children miss the toilet again and again, or fall down on seemingly smooth surfaces, and perhaps it is only natural that our young Ross in favor of a second chance and give thefollowing week. Nah. I need only get out of the house.



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