Making sounds

When I picked Jordan up from school today, he snuck up behind me and honked, using a fun little reed instrument he made out of a drinking straw. It was for a science lesson. You cut the end of the straw into a point, flatten it by biting it a little, and blow into it with a little buzz in your blow, the way you do for a kazoo but less vocally. It makes a great sound! Jordan loved it. He had two different straws of slightly different diameter, and by fitting one into the other, he had made a thing like a slide whistle or trombone, where you slide the pitch by making the instrument physically longer and shorter. He played it all the way home. Between tunes, he chatted me up about sound and vibrations.

Jordan: Mommy I learned that sound is waves. It's the vibration.
Me: Can you explain to me how this thing works?
Jordan: The air makes the straw vibrate and that makes the sound.
Me: Huh. I have not thought about this before and you are really making me think. Does the air make the straw vibrate, or does the straw make the air vibrate?
Jordan: The air makes the straw vibrate. Because you have to blow. And you have to blow in a certain way to make the straw go buzz, and that is the sound.
Me: Wow. I think that is totally right. You even have to blow in a certain way, a kind of a buzzy blow, or it won't work. So it's sort of like, you make the air go buzz, and the air makes the straw go buzz?
Jordan: That's what I think. I'm just guessing about this right now.
Me: That's okay, that's called figuring it out. We use what we know to figure out new things. I'm figuring it out too. What I don't understand yet is how the sound gets to my ears. Because I think the sound has to get to my ears for me to hear it.
Jordan: I think the sound is the waves, and the sound cuts through the air to get to your ear faster. The sound is the waves, and the air is like the sand on the beach. Have you seen how the waves at the beach can kind of cut through the sand? Like that.
Me: Far out. That's different than how I think of it. I think the sound is the air that is vibrating.
Jordan: I never thought of it that way. That's a new idea to me.

Since we were on our way to Jordan's choir practice, I asked:

Me: Do you think this has anything to do with singing?
Jordan: No. I think it is completely different.
Me: How do you think singing works?
Jordan: I think the air goes over that little thing that hangs down in the back of your mouth and vibrates it and that makes the sound.
Me: That's called the uvula. I have no idea what that thing is for. But the way you are describing it, it sounds a lot like what you said happens with the straw.
Jordan: Uvula?!?! [He thought the sound of the word was hilarious and practiced saying it over and over.]
Me: Yeah. I don't know what it's for. I think that singing sounds come from a thing that is farther down your throat called the larynx.
Jordan: Is that the voice box?
Me: Right, that.
Jordan: I think that has little strings in it and those vibrate to make the sound. And there has to be the air to make it vibrate because you breathe when you sing.

As we arrived at choir, I said maybe his choir director would know about how sound is made for singing, and he decided he wanted to talk about it at the break and maybe show how his instrument works.

I have since learned that the uvula does play a bit of a role in the articulation of some sounds, but mostly just glottal stops, not notes. I wonder Jordan got his idea about the uvula from cartoon images of people yelling. The "strings" in the larynx may have been a reference to the "vocal cords," which apparently are not so much cords as folds in the tissue. Which makes the larynx more like a reed instrument, right?

I'm going away! Now follow me!

A child-development book I like says, "The eight-year-old child is an exuberant, outgoing bundle of energy; he meets every challenge head-on, willing to try almost anything. Sometimes parents are amazed at the enthusiasm and excitement with which their child greets the world." I certainly am. Jordan is highly competent and he knows it. He can tidy up a room, learn a piano piece, charm a toddler, walk himself to school, make friends with a dog and its owner, and save up for a big purchase. He can navigate a shopping cart through a crowded grocery store with excellent etiquette. He can suggest strategies for me to deal with a challenge at work (and they're good ideas, too). He runs out ahead of us on the street so that he can lead the way.

At the same time, he is very connected to all of us, especially Aaron; so any new thing he does, he wants Aaron to do it too, or at least be right there to appreciate how well he does it. This leads to a funny dynamic in which Jordan first declares that he will now be doing this new activity By Himself, not the old thing he used to do with Aaron; but very shortly he is inviting Aaron to do it with him. I think this is both because he wants Aaron to admire what he's doing, and also because he genuinely loves Aaron's company.

For example, a few weeks ago I decided that Jordan should try out taking a shower. He and Aaron had always taken baths together, and I was usually there for the washing, but Jordan is getting to be such a big kid that I suddenly looked at him and thought, "Time for this kid to be washing himself," and introduced the shower concept. He loved it. He was thrilled. He declared he was taking showers from now on, maybe every day. He consistently opted out of baths with Aaron. I briefly mourned the passing of the little-kid bathtime scene (which was getting a little crowded, anyway). And then tonight, Jordan extolled the virtues of the shower to Aaron: "You should try it! You can try it right now with me! It feels so great!" And Aaron tried it, and loved it, and they bonded over how much they both enjoy showers now.

New skills

Jordan has a new skill: He can cook himself a scrambled egg with cheese!

He can do the whole process independently: remember what ingredients he needs, locate the proper utensils, crack and beat the egg, grate the cheese, pour the oil, etc. The first time he did it, I guided him in each step, and didn't touch anything. Now I just keep one eye on things while I go about my own business (but I still stay in the kitchen). The trickiest part is cracking the egg: he tends to squeeze it, so that it kind of explodes into the bowl and on his hands. I'm trying to teach him how to do the thing we experienced egg-crackers do without thinking, which is to kind of open the egg along the crack. (Did you know you did that?) I assume experience will be the best teacher of this particular detail. The other exciting part was turning on the stove, which he had never done before. He is quite safety-conscious, listened carefully to my little lecture about natural gas, and has not yet made an unsafe mistake. There is so much to learn - how much oil to use, why you should turn the pan handles in. Jordan finds it all thrilling.

Aaron, meanwhile, is becoming a real reader. He can read "early reader" type books independently, and has a colorful and engaged reading voice.

Here he is in action:

He is a great writer, too. Here is a card he made for his kindergarten teacher, who has been sick for months and will not be back for some time. It says, "I hope you get better soon. To Ms. Mrphy. Aaron." 

For me the most touching thing is how sick she looks, there in her bed, thinking about her classroom.

Pianist

Jordan has been taking piano lessons for about six months now and is learning a ton. He loves to play, and is especially enamored of chords. "Chords are very empowering," agrees his cheerful and unflappable piano teacher, as Jordan bangs away at top volume on the grand piano in her living room. She held a recital for all her students last weekend, and Jordan played the following piece. The intro and out-tro are his own composition, which he improvised one day and remembers. The piece in the middle is a piece she assigned him called "I've Got Music," by Bastien.

Where does the soul go?

I got into another one of these theological conversations with the boys... I admit, I enjoy them. At dinner on Thursday, Jordan was talking about what he sang in choir that day, and Aaron hadn't heard the story of Away in a Manger so we had to tell it to him. He thought it was hilarious: asleep in the hay! Ha! However, I felt a little incomplete telling these stories without also explaining the significance that they have for people, so this time I said how the baby Jesus is so special to Christian people, that part of the story is that even the stars in the sky were happy to see him be born. Aaron was very touched by that. Then I went on to try and explain why Jesus is special to Christian people, and man, I was out of my depth. I felt like I needed to keep it simple (these are five- and eight-year-old Jews, after all) and I was thinking on my feet, so I thought I'd just say that the Christian story is that Jesus helps you get into heaven and not go to hell. But my kids don't know what heaven and hell are. So I started by asking:

Me: What do you think happens when people die?
Aaron: We say goodbye to them.
Jordan: I think their soul goes out.
Rachel: I agree, we say goodbye to them. What do you mean, their soul goes out?
Jordan: At the moment people die I think their soul goes out of them. [He made a wiggly motion away from his chest.]
Rachel: Does it go somewhere?
Jordan: I don't know.
Rachel: I don't know either.
Jordan: I think maybe it goes to us, so that we remember them. I think maybe that is how we remember them.
Rachel: Wow. I think that is pretty great. I don't know what happens after people die, but I like your idea a lot.

And then I launched into this other part:

Rachel: Another story about what happens when people die is that there is a wonderful place called heaven, and your soul goes there when you die. I don't believe this story myself, but it is a story that is special to Christian people. One story is that heaven is up in the clouds.
Jordan: I don't think your soul goes up in the clouds.
Aaron: I don't think anyone goes up in the clouds unless there is a rocket ship. And then you go to space.
Jordan: And your soul wouldn't go in a rocket ship.
Rachel: I don't believe this story either, but some people like this story. Another part of this story is that your soul only goes to heaven if you are good and you do good things. If you do bad things, you go to another place called hell.
Aaron: If you do bad things you go there?
Rachel: That's the story.
Aaron: What is it like there?
Rachel: Supposedly it's full of fire and monsters and devils.

I was trying to be casual, but I think Aaron's imagination took him somewhere awful very fast, because his eyes got big and he started to tremble and blink back tears. I instantly regretted the whole conversation - now my poor baby is worried about going to hell!? Scrambling to get out of it, I said,

Rachel: Aaron Aaron I forgot to tell you that there is an important rule about who can never go to hell. Do you want to hear it?
Aaron [little voice shaking]: Yes?
Rachel: Children. Children can never go to hell.
Aaron: They can't?
Rachel: Right. Because children are not bad. Children are learning.
[There was a collective puff of relief. Both Aaron and Jordan looked very grateful to be hearing this piece of news and got out of their chairs.]
Rachel: Like if a little kid broke something, they didn't do it on purpose, they are just learning.
Jordan [standing up to explain]: Kids make mistakes. Kids don't mean to hurt anyone.
Aaron [waving his arms]: Like if a kid broke his brother's toy he didn't mean to do it, it just broke.

I even think this is true, isn't it? Innocent youths? I guess it depends on your convictions. Well, I hereby refuse to educate my kids about any religion that threatens to send little kids to hell. And it was time to change the subject.

Rachel: Right. Now heaven, on the other hand, the story is that heaven is this wonderful place where everything is good.
Jordan: Is everything made of candy?
Rachel: Actually they say the streets are made of gold.
Jordan: Wow!
Aaron: And what else?
Rachel: All your friends will be there, and all the people you love.
Aaron [dancing around the kitchen]: Emanuel will be there, and Finn, and Sean and Henry! [All of whom are alive and well, and of a variety of religious persuasions. Never mind.]

There followed a very excited and imaginative babbling about what heaven would be like. Both kids got so into it they pushed the dinner dishes out of the way and started drawing heaven. Aaron drew himself sitting on a cloud and wanted to know how to spell "Whee!" because it would be so fun.

Jordan drew this fascinating image:



Those are the streets of gold, and green fields, and "a giant portable box of candy." A friend pointed out that it is a crossroads, as well, which struck her as auspicious.

The conversation was really out of my hands by now, but I tried to cram through to my point, which was that the baby Jesus grew up into the man Jesus, who had a lot of very good ideas and instructions for how to live a good life, and that the Christian story that if you live the way that Jesus said, you would go to heaven. And that Christmas is Jesus's birthday, so songs like Away in the Manger are for saying that when Jesus was born it was very special. Amen.

Observed

Another parent reported the following sweetness to us, which she observed while dropping her kids off at the before-school program:

Jordan and Aaron were making their plan for where to play together. Jordan was told that because of staffing today, they couldn't accommodate younger siblings in the "big kid" area in the lunchroom -- seems that's something the boys have done together in the past. 

Aaron looked up at Jordan with silent, big, tear-rimmed eyes.

Jordan paused, then said he'd changed his mind and would prefer to stay in the portable with his brother. Unfortunately the staff said that for the same staffing reasons, today Jordan needed to go to the lunchroom.

Jordan gave Aaron a big hug and a reassuring pep talk about how they'd see each other again later at recess. And of course, the staff quickly engaged Aaron in some activity to take his mind off it.

As our friend's daughter and Jordan walked together to the lunch room, they discussed the pros and cons of the likely rainy day recess. Jordan said the main thing was that if it's rainy day start and recess, he won't get to see Aaron.

Songs with stories

Jordan absolutely loves being in the Northwest Boychoir and is learning all kinds of great songs. The other day he was singing "Dem Bones" in the car, and I had fun singing it with him. He didn't know the story, so I told it to him. It's quite a story. The choir is singing it for Halloween, and it is rather ghoulish ("As I was prophesying, there was a noise, a rattling sound, and the bones came together, bone to bone. I looked, and tendons and flesh appeared on them and skin covered them"). But it's also inspiring, because it's meant to convey that even when it seems like there is no hope at all, there can be life and strength again. I told Jordan how this was an African-American slave song, and that songs like this helped slaves keep their hopes alive in tough times. We agreed that it made the song more interesting to know the story behind it.

As in almost any choir in the western world, winter brings Christmas carols. (There is a Hanukkah song too.) I admit that I sometimes find Christmas carols tiresome, because it's not my holiday and they are so pervasive. Jordan, however, says he has no concern, that he isn't really paying attention to the words anyway, just enjoying the music. He has a good attitude.

Monday night, he asked  me to sing Away in a Manger for our bedtime song. I found that I wasn't comfortable with that.

Me: You know, I don't really feel right singing that song for bedtime. I'd be happy to sing it with you during the day, but not at bedtime. It's because it's a Jesus song.
Jordan: It is?
Me: Yeah, you know, 'the little Lord Jesus alseep in the hay.'
Jordan: Oh, I didn't know that. I don't sing the words, just the solfege.

Well, how about that! He didn't know Away in a Manger was a Jesus song. This, in my opinion, is in the category of cultural information an American child needs to have. And as with Dem Bones, it's enriching to know what you're singing about. Hopefully. So next time we were in the car alone, I told him the baby Jesus story. I told him that Jesus was a real person, a Jewish person actually, and a great teacher with many very good ideas. I said that Jesus is the number one most special person to Christians because they believe he is both a man and God at the same time. I said that honestly I don't really get that. (I hope this is not disrespectful; I think that even among believers it is a mystery.) I went on:

Me: The baby Jesus story starts when a special woman named Mary gets pregnant. You remember how a woman gets pregnant?
Jordan: Yeah. The man does so-and-so. [He said it just like that: so-and-so.]
Me: Right. [This was not the time to grill him on the specifics.] So what was special about this time, in the story, was that this woman got pregnant and no man did so-and-so with her. Just God made her pregnant, with God.
Jordan: Huh.
Me: And she was visiting a city from out of town, and when it was time for the baby to come, she needed somewhere to stay. So she tried to check into a hotel. But the hotel didn't have any rooms available. So they said she could stay in the barn. This was a hotel with a barn. And that's where the baby Jesus was born. So when it says "Away in a Manger," that means in the barn. A manger is a barn. [I remembered later that actually the manger is the feeding trough; I'll have to correct that.]
Jordan: So that's why he was asleep in the hay.
Me: Right.

I decided that was enough for one day.