Wednesday, November 01, 2006

Absent Minded Professor?

I have been working on a post about our Halloween party. I’ve sat down several times over the last few days and attempted to give it the time it deserves. However, daylight savings time has prevented it. A weak excuse, you say? Well…maybe, but hear me out. Ever since Simon reminded me to feel guilty about not working out, I’ve been rising between 5 and 5:15 to go downstairs and work out. Afterwards I either read or work on the blog until 6:30 when Norah typically wakes. Now, this was a great system. I hated getting up so early, but I felt wonderful about having a productive hour and a half every morning to do a few things I really enjoy doing. However, the routine was not to last. About a week and a half after I started, daylight savings time ended and Norah’s 6:30 became 5:30. I try to persuade her that it’s still Daddy’s time and that she should go back to sleep…but thus far, she remains unconvinced. So now I still get up at 5, but it doesn't really add to my productivity.

In addition to my blog time having been invaded, the party blog is a rather time-consuming post since it involves html coding and color glassy photos with circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of each one explaining what each one is so that they can be used as evidence against us. But…despite all these valid reasons for delay, there sits my stagnant blog with no new update for a week. For shame. I’ve decided, therefore, to beat a temporary retreat from the party story so that I can distract you with a delightful conversation about the real reason you all come here anyway…Norah.

So, enjoy my stalling tactics and I’ll try to get the party pics up a little later this week.


The Absent Minded Professor?

In my continuing reporting on young Norah’s scientific experimentation with motion, communication, and cognition, I feel it only fair to clear up any misconceptions I may be causing about the young scientist’s progress. While I have reported nothing but the truth on this site, a reading of this blog would give the impression of a far more advanced child than Norah is at this moment. As you read of her progress, you undoubtedly assume that she’s stacking one discovery onto another and continually adding to her arsenal of life skills. However, the truth is…she’s a bit forgetful.

Yes, she works diligently on a problem, solves the problem, and even repeats her solution so as to prove that she has, in deed, mastered the challenge. However, it is at this point that her grasp of the scientific method fails her. Logically she would remember this advance so that she could continue to perfect the skill and perhaps expand on its usefulness. Instead she grows bored with it, casts it aside, and begins working on a new task.

She conquered the mystery of the button, pressed the button endlessly for a few days…and has not so much as thought about a button since. Couldn’t care less. She mastered the linguistic hurdle of “L” and even showed interest in “M.” She gibber-jabbered up a storm for a few days…and has made no sound outside the vowels since I reported to you. Ever since, she’s been experimenting with pitch and volume.

I see two primary explanations here. First, she has inherited her father’s jack-of-all-trades / too-many-interests-to-truly-master-any-of-them mentality. It’s possible that she, like me, will find it difficult to finish a book – even a book she is thoroughly enjoying – simply because a new story will catch her eye before completing the first. Or, the second possibility is that she’s just showing off for you fine folks. It may well be that her main goal in all this is to get me to mention her amazing feats in this blog. Having accomplished this on both the above mentioned examples…she felt no need to further pursue the lines of research and instead began work on her next blog-worthy accomplishment.

As mentioned previously on this blog, intent is a notoriously difficult thing to prove when it comes to babies. She’s either the absent minded professor or a deviously clever mad scientist. So, while I have no way of knowing which reason is true, I can’t help but think my Jolly Green has become overly competitive with her Internet peers. She knows there are a lot of cute kids out there vying for your attention…from Samantha to Sarah, and from Tavish to Sebastian. I think she has succumb to the oldest temptation in science…she’s fudging the numbers to meet expectations.

8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Not trying to make the blog harder, but it is National Write A Novel month. Better get cracking! http:/www.nanowrimo.org/
http://www.maddogproductions.com/plotomatic.htm

Anonymous said...

Thanks for the kudos!

Moksha Gren said...

Elsa,
Yes, I knew about this. I try not to think about all the novels I'm not writing...it just makes me sad (for all the peope out there who are unable to read my unwritten novels). And do you harrass Taltap with these little guilt-inducing factoids?

Susan,
No problem, although the kudos were really for Sarah. We're just not cute enough for kudos anymore.

Simon,
Eep! If Norah's going to cast herself in the light of my expectations...then perhaps I should stop assigning evil intent to her science. In that case she is neither showing off nor forgetful...she is merely exploring a well-rounded approach to her universe. No sense specializing in consonants until pitch has been weighed as a field of study.

How's that for a better mold?

Anonymous said...

I figure if you're saying that Sarah is cute that is a direct reflection on me therefore I thank you. :)

Anonymous said...

Well, yah. It is even worse for him, cause all I have to do is open my mouth and tell him. To harass you, I have to go to all the trouble of typing.

Anonymous said...

-referring to Norah pictures posted 11/06- Look at the chubby cheeks on that kid! I love 'em!
Now I know where that habit grandmas have of pinching their grandkids' cheeks comes from. Those look just irresistible.
Norah had better be prepared for deluge of auntie and uncle love come Christmas time.

Moksha Gren said...

I agree, Mouse. I have never pinched a kid's cheek in my life. And yet I find myself pinching Norah's constantly. Luckily, she loves it. I have this fear that I'll look back on these times as the moment I became a chronic cheek-pincher. My neices and nephews will suffer the consequences.

One Wink at a Time said...

I too suffer from the syndrome of being distracted before completing. It's a curse, don't you agree? Everything in my life has no conclusion. It's as if my entire existence leads up to a point and then branches in several directions. Kind of like varicose veins. (I don't know what I'll blame these kinds of statements on once I'm off all this medication...)