Fridge Farm

I made one of my C & W outcomes that I was going to try to post to my blog everyday-- which for me means every weekday-- so now, here I am today-- with all sorts of stuff to work on and do-- and I should have academic thoughts to process on my blog, but I'm going to talk about my daughter's fridge farm.

My daughter got 3, count them 1, 2, 3 Leapfrog Fridge Farms for her first birthday last week. Now, this is a gift that I was hoping that she would get-- she's played with it at other people's house, and she really seems to like it, so I thought she would enjoy it. And she does. She loves to pull the pieces off of the fridge. And she likes to put the pieces in her mouth and crawl around the kitchen. She likes to push the pieces as high as she can reach on her tippy toes so that she can't get them back down. And she LOVES to push the Farmer Tag banjo playing button so that I get to listen to more banjo music than I've ever heard in my life. Even as I type this my brain is serenading me with "You made a match" and Old Suzanna on an alternating player despite the fact that my daughter is sleeping and the fridge is silent.

I don't say this to discourage someone from acquiring the Fridge Farm-- it's a fun toy-- and my daughter loves it. I guess I write this to explain to myself why I feel like I'm two different people sometimes. I can sit at a conference and glean knowledge and resolve to be a better teacher, student, director-- and then I come home, and I have this wonderful little girl who doesn't care about how many books I read, or articles I publish, or blog posts I complete. She cares if her picture pops up on the laptop screen. She cares if I tickle her when I read the sounds in Mr. Brown can Moo, can you?

This past year has been a lesson in convergence for me-- how do I converge mommy with scholar? I wish there were a how to here.