I’ve been working on a master list of projects that each of the people in my household wish to get on with.
Bear (10) is eager to adopt his long-promised hedgehog already, and is looking for other ways to get involved with animals. Horseback riding? Rabbit camp? He’s also in the midst of learning to write a business plan, hoping to get something secret and awesome implemented. He wants to start playing Capture the Flag and Hide and Seek in a large-scale urban way and I just don’t know where to start helping him with that. He’s been on about Lego robotics too and I feel guilty for not getting him going with that yet.
Terran (7) wants to get digging into the more basic robotics lessons I promised, which requires purchasing seemingly five dozen random objects. A cork. A solar lawn light. Three types of wire I don’t really understand the difference between. He’s also starting guitar in a new place. He wants to learn how to make herbal remedies and how to grow herbs.
I need to figure out what kind of physical fitness routine I’m going to do. Kaleo? C25K? My health insurance will cover yoga classes for me, I just found out, and a host of other options too. I’ve been trying to figure out if I can finagle the boys into being entirely screen-free. I’m also in the midst of about eighty needle felting projects for friends. Oh and I applied for a new job as a call-in psychic! This involves a surprising amount of interviewing and paperwork.
Robin is trying to figure out how to get around to busking and working on his writing. He’s thinking about joining me on my Walk Every Street in Albany project, too. Because his custody schedule is in flux, he’s not sure how to schedule all that.
Interestingly, Verdi (12) is pretty much set. I suspect that because he is the oldest, I have been in the habit of investing time and energy in him and letting the rest of us kind of follow behind, doing what he does. I do need to get him up to the indoor rock gym more often, though, and feed him a steady supply of computer parts so he can keep working on his Raspberry Pi.
In the midst of all this spring mania, I took the two little boys (how much longer can I say “little” boys?) to an exhibit at the local mall on human anatomy. They were able to walk through giant inflatable heart, brain and colon, touch a real lung and a real heart, interact with several giant carnival-game type models and lessons, get EKGs, talk to dozens of Albany Med students about health and the body, and probably other things I’ve forgotten by now. It was an amazingly full day. Terran was more enthusiastic about most of it than Bear. I overheard Terran the next day bragging to his Little League team that he had touched a REAL heart. (The Little League team sang, “Ewwww!”) But Bear stayed interested the whole walk through and he had a wake-up call at the booth where you check your risk of developing heart disease. Told you so, Bear.