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Why? You are a fool. You passed 4th grade. Why do you want to repeat it by doing 4th grade work, again? Do you want to make teachers think your kiddo is more polished and capable than he/she truly is? Do you think you are fooling anyone? Why do I care? Because someday, when your child gets a job building a bridge I am going to drive across, I don’t want her to have to call you to find out how. ‘Cause you don’t know, either. I expound at Mile High Mamas today. Go say hello. Teeth were chattering. They didn’t chatter because the rides were thrillingly scary, but because it was a cold, rainy night. The kids’ school sponsored a family night at a local amusement park. When you buy tickets in advance with no hope of refund, you go despite the sprinkles. Happiness doesn’t dwell only at 72 degrees.
Archie rode on his first amusement park ride. It was a little cart and horse which travelled in a circle at the blistering speed of .15 miles per hour. Tommy was his co-pilot.
Ryley on the Round-Up, which makes me dizzy to think about. He would have spent all night riding that one ride. He’s easy to please.
Tommy and Joel on the Zoom, which features a 140-foot freefall drop. Note Tommy’s inexcusably rude mocking of the bock-bock yellow cowardly scaredy-cat baby chickens who stayed sanely on the ground. My husband and Ryley rode, too. It was tense to be on the ground, watching 4 of my guys plummet. They loved it. Crazies.
Beatrix watching the Zoom, right before it released daddy and 3 brothers to the whims of fate and the skill of maintenance workers.
Joel decided to ride something a little more tame. But is a large pink jackrabbit truly tame?
We visited this same park late last summer on a seasonable night. No coats, hats or hands jammed in pockets. I took these two photos last night, remembering last summer. Some things never change:
Because I couldn’t ride anything, I spent the evening with Archie. I kept his hands warm and tried to stuff a thick blanket around his body and a hat on his head, but he fought every one of my warming efforts. He seemed to be warmed by the lights and the motion. It was enough to keep him happy.
Last night, I had 4 babies. I fell in love with each one of them at first sight. I’ll never hold them, sing to them, or nurse them, but I know them. The new film, Focus Features’ Babies, introduces the world to these wide-eyed wonders in such an innovative, charming way that I couldn’t help but be swept up into their little lives. One by one, the film introduces the little ones who hail from around the world. Mari lives in Tokyo. Hattie is a San Franciscan. Bayar is a little man of Mongolia, and Ponijao dwells in Namibia. Once they take their first breaths, their stories intertwine. They eat, sleep, sing, bathe, crawl, and finally walk in a progression of chubby cheeks and stompy toddler feet. They are more alike than different. In a departure from the typical documentary, which is narrated, Babies trusts the babies to reveal their worlds through facial expressions, squeals, and sensory experiences. Who needs James Earl Jones booming voice when you have a cooing 3-month-old or a tantruming 10-month-old? The perspective is subtle and it’s never manipulative or cloying. One of the beautiful aspects of Babies is that no mothering style is presented as superior, no culture is put on a pedestal. Ponijao gnaws on a bone he finds in the dirt. He’s okay. Bayar sits naked on a rusty barrel as young cattle crowd around. He’s okay. Mari plays with CDs while her parents work on computers. She’s okay. Hattie endures one of the silliest hippy-run music classes I’ve ever seen. She runs for the door. But she’s okay. The cinematography is gorgeous. Sweeping vistas of the more remote locales served as a poignant contrast to the babies’ innocence and sense of exploration. Even the city girls, Mari and Hattie, were shown as small forces in the bustle of traffic and technology. No one environment was hailed as the best for a baby. They adapt where they are, and they adapt well. Should you take your children to see Babies? It is rated PG. I don’t think it’s for every child. If your kiddos are familiar with very obvious breastfeeding (maternal nudity with a purpose, never gratuitous) and won’t be distracted by naked baby bums and other parts, then they’d probably love it. I don’t think kids need to be shielded from these things, at all. I simply think it might be annoying to sit next to snickering 8-year-olds. Someone should make a movie called Elementary School-Aged Kids. Bruno Coulais should start composing the soundtrack immediately. Babies opens on May 7th, just in time for Mother’s Day weekend. To find a screening is near you, click here. To watch the trailer, click here. |
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