We're nearing the end of the semester. Boy in Black has taken over one end of the couch; the little table in front of him holds textbooks, his cellphone, a cup of cocoa, and his laptop. He’s working on a physics problem. With-a-Why, on the other end of the couch, has a sketch pad in his lap and a laptop in front of him. Shaggy Hair Boy is in the comfy chair, and he’s writing a paper on his laptop. I’m arranging student portfolios into piles, a move that makes me look organized but really just puts off actually grading them. The kitchen counter is littered with empty cups, plates, and bowls.
It’s mostly quiet in the room, except that all of us have surges of playing the piano when we need a break, and short bits of conversations that we never finish.
With-a-Why looks up from his sketch pad, “Are you going out to the store? I need some m&m’s for school.”
“You need candy?” I ask.
“It has to be m&m’s. I need 100 of them,”
“What for?” I ask, but he is no longer listening. He’s concentrating on the sketchpad.
Boy in Black looks up from his computer: “He must be learning about radioactive decay.”
I look at him. “What?”
“I mean, it’s obvious,” he looks back down at his computer, mumbling something the concept of the half-life and how you can demonstrate this with m&m’s but already his mind has gone back to the physics problem.
“Does this look like an egg?” With-a-Why asks, holding up his sketch pad.
“Not really. Shouldn’t it be more oval?”
Shaggy Hair Boy goes into the kitchen area to get a drink, then sits down to play the piano. With-a-Why is singing to himself as he sketches. "Pardon me boys, is that the Chattanooga Choo choo?" Boy in Black has opened a book called Statistical Mechanics; he’s looking at the pages so intensely that I suspect he’s memorizing it.
My daughter calls from Bison City to say she’s done with all her coursework. Her semester ended a week before ours. All she needs to do now is run a study and write a master’s thesis. She’ll come next weekend for Boy in Black’s college graduation.
And then summer will begin.
8 comments:
i would have loved to live in your house. it sounds like a dream come true: being surrounded by creativity and intellectualism. it sounds like the family in "a squid and a whale"
All she has to do is write a Master's Thesis, hunh? No problem. Gasp.
I would love a peek into your future. Your kids are so determined and bright and studying such intense programs that I want to see where they end up working what they end up doing later in life.
Any secrets to share on how to get the whole family working in the same room and actually learning something without distractions from others?
I love getting to look into your home through the window of your blog.
Sounds just like my house! Except, I'm on the one on the laptop trying to study, my kids are the ones talking to me and playing and playing the piano.
But the dishes all over- that sounds like my house.
I'm finished grading (HOORAY!) I made a super concentrated effort. I just have to right a kick butt paper for Tuesday.
Better get started, right?
This made me laugh because I'm literally sitting at my laptop right now, working on a paper. Beautiful Cousin had her last exam today, but prior to that she'd been studying non-stop for days.
Congratulations to Boy in Black. We also will be celebrating a Physics graduation next weekend at the university of maroon and orange. The four years have gone by in a flash.
Madeleine: Eh, she's a writer. It'll go fast once she has the data.
Beachmama: I think maybe it's out of necessity. When we built this house, I planned the downstairs to be one big room -- no separate kitchen or dining room or family room -- because I wanted us to all be together all the time. So we've all learned to work and tune each other out. I grew up in a crowded noisy house where we all did our homework together at the kitchen table, so it's all I've ever known.
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