I'm stealing L's question again, which was:
Fourteen...that the world was bigger than I thought it was, bigger than I could even understand, then. That things always change, not always for the better, but they always change. That my whole life would not be decided based on my marks at school.
Seven...that my sister wasn't as horrible as I thought she was and that she had her own problems, and so did my parents. That very little of what happened between them was my fault.
I don't know if those are really things Sherlock and Mycroft need to know, or, if they are, if I'm getting them across. I think they're both more grown up and aware of the world than I was at those ages.
Siege
Edna St Vincent Millay
This I do, being mad:
Gather baubles about me,
Sit in a circle of toys, and all the time
Death beating the door in.
White jade and an orange pitcher,
Hindu idol, Chinese god, —
Maybe next year, when I’m richer—
Carved beads and a lotus pod....
And all this time
Death beating the door in.
Gather baubles about me,
Sit in a circle of toys, and all the time
Death beating the door in.
White jade and an orange pitcher,
Hindu idol, Chinese god, —
Maybe next year, when I’m richer—
Carved beads and a lotus pod....
And all this time
Death beating the door in.
53 comments:
I wish I'd known when I was fourteen that it's OK to know your own mind (so many people told me I didn't), but that it's not just OK, but practically required, to keep an open mind about as many things as possible.
I think I could have done with understanding that my brothers and my parents were their own people right the way through my childhood, and adolescence. Pretty much through adulthood as well :-p
Although ISTR reading somewhere that kids go through a psychological shift in how they understand and relate to the world, around the age of eight, and before then, they perceive the world almost exclusively as it relates to them, rather than as a collection of individual people.
I'm not quite sure what to make of that poem. But I think it's stuck in my head now.
John, you--and L--know Sherlock and Mycroft better than any of us can, obviously. But I was looking back to when you started talking about them on your blog, and their earliest comments. And comparing it all to now...well, I guess I'd say that they seem a lot more...I dunno, secure? At home? More solid, maybe, in their own selves and the world. And as I said on L's blog, it's not what you say but what you do and how you live that makes the most long-lasting impression. I think you--both of you--are doing wonderfully well.
(And that poem gives me chills.)
My feet give him chills ;)
Fireworks still being noisy?
no, fireworks had stopped. I was just awake.
Went and checked Sherlock wasn't asleep pressed against his window.
Is work treating you well Greg?
How's your day going John?
I hope you're both having a good day :-)
Err..yeah, not too bad.
Waiting to see who Ohio elects as president of the US.
Had to deal with someone who just about drove me to insanity earlier. Had to try and clamp down on my sarcasm very severely.
I decided to stop and think about how I wanted to answer this post, because it follows what I said to L about the value of patience, persistence, and practice. You see, you're dealing with two incredibly bright youngsters, and while the pitfalls they face are sometimes different, they're often the same. I think the two things you've mentioned here are very much things that Mycroft and Sherlock need to hear. Mycroft, because it's easy at fourteen to believe you've got a good grasp of all the variables, and Sherlock, because he is at the age where he is still working out how much influence he has or hasn't got on the people who make up his world. Those are both aspects of emotional intelligence, and they might be easy to fake, but the questions are still there.
The thing I think about, when it comes to smart kids, is the danger of labelling the bits of the world that aren't easy to comprehend as "boring" -- when you don't have to work hard to learn most things, stumbling up against something that requires hard work can be awkward. It's easy to push the hard things away, say we're just not interested, that those things are "boring". That's why I love it that you are setting the boys learning things like music and cookery, things that take a lifetime to learn and still have new aspects.
You both make it clear that you think the hard things are worth doing. And that's the best thing in the world for both boys to learn.
rsf
Oh, gosh, L, can I quote you? "Waiting to see who Ohio elects as president of the US" is precisely what I'm doing today!
rsf
Had to try and clamp down on my sarcasm very severely.
That's a bit like trying to stop breathing right? ;-)
Sorry annoying people are bugging you, I hope the afternoon is better :-)
AnonyBob - it is. Honestly. Some people just.... There are few things I can deal with less well than someone thinking they're right and therefore no one else needs to be listened to.
RSF - problemm with Sherlock is you have to work out what's 'boring' because he wants to avoid it, and what's genuinely 'boring'. Not always easy.
Nameless - they perceive the world almost exclusively as it relates to them
Sounds right. Although I know some adults who I'm pretty certain never grew out of that... I think Sherlock's getting there, or at least starting to. I feel like he's changing every day.
RSF - surely doing only what's easy is the most boring of all? Trying to convince Sherlock of that, anyway... He's had a lot of trouble with that boat.
L - someone you work with or someone you were arresting?
Reporter. Felt like arresting him.
Ah. Sometimes I wish you could, yes.
"Boring" can also be a signal in kids for "I can't comprehend enough of this to be engaged," regardless of how smart they are. Which is usually how I tell the difference between genuine boredom and pushing things away, L. I ask the kid to explain the material, and if they breeze through it with good comprehension, then it really was boring.
John, you're right, but frustration is very frustrating if you don't have to cope with it often. That said, Sherlock's welcome to ask me questions -- I've done some simple model boats before -- but I'm doing training today and tomorrow, so I don't know how often I'll be on the Internet this afternoon or tomorrow.
rsf
RSF - sometimes I don't have enough comprehension of what he's doing to know if he's explaining it correctly.
I think we generally work out which it is. We've got this far, afterall.
Danger - he was a complete tosspot. And looked like a scrubbed pig.
Is that better or worse than an unscrubbed pig?
LoL! That's the way I feel about some of the kids and their math homework! (I'm okay with algebra, but geometry makes my own "boring boring boring" alerts go off.)
And "tosspot" is a glorious word, which must now go into my working vocabulary.
rsf
Worse. Unscrubbed pigs are honest about their piggyness.
Nothing worse than a dishonest pig. Well, maybe a politician.
Do you want to get coffee? Fair warning, Sherlock is in a massive sulk.
Righteous or unrighteous?
Lancs. Anon
Yeah, great. Why is he? If I give him coffee will he will hyperactively?
Sherlock, what's up? You better not be being mean to John.
Today was boat day. It did not go as well as he'd hoped, i.e. his boat did not (literally or metaphorically) blow all other boats out of the water. I thought it was good, but apparently not good enough for him.
Ah, boat day already... Whoops, see what happens when I am days without the internet? I lose track.
I hope it didn't sink, at least.
rsf
Surprised the pond wasn't frozen! Felt ridiculously cold when I left. Although admittedly not cold enough to freeze the pond, I suppose. Just my arse.
Sherlock, you know, when other people do thinks better than you, it can encourage you to strive to be better. But it's also okay, some people are good at some sorts of things and not others. As long as you tried your best, that's all we care about.
It didn't sink. Just didn't look quite how he was imagining it, I think.
He was imagining a pirate ship in full sail, cannon billowing smoke and death, though.
He does have a very vivid imagination.
He does. And an almost prehensile bottom lip when sticking it out in a silk.
I hope he hasn't been too horrible to you.
Or a sulk, even.
I just wanted it to be better.
Its good to want to be better Sherlock but try not to beat yourself up when you don't meet your own standards. Trying your hardest will always make what you do very very special just like you :-)
Why don't you write down all the bits you wanted to be better, and how you would make them better if you did it again? Or draw a picture with arrows and notes.
You can only know if something needs improving by trying it out, sometimes.
If I do it again could we take it somewhere and float it on a better pond?
A better pond?? What's wrong with your pond!?
If we made one that we had some control of, we could go and try it on the Serpentine. Or, if we didn't have control, we'd have to rent a rowing boat to follow it in.
Did you think other people had made good boats? Did you talk to them about things about their boats that you liked?
A really BIG one. I could tie a string to it.
One had rigging and sails and one had an engine.
And did you say to the people who made them that you thought that was good? Or ask them about how they made them like that?
No!
So why didn't you want to do that? If you'd made a boat you were really proud of, wouldn't you have been happy if people had come and said how great they thought it was?
Because I didn't want to!
I get that, kiddo. But is there a reason you didn't want to? Were you upset your boat didn't turn out as you wanted it? Or were you a bit jealous of their boats? Or...what?
It's not fair she thought of an engine and I didn't!
But there are lots of different sorts of boats - some have engines, some motors, some oars, or sails, or paddles... it doesn't make hers better.
But, if you did think that hers was good, you should have said so to her. Then she'd feel very happy, I'm sure, that you liked her boat. And even if, deep down, you wished you'd put an engine on yours, it wouldn't hurt you to say something nice to her.
And if you said something nice about it now, then perhaps next time you're doing a project, you could talk to her about it, and share ideas. She'd remember that you'd been so nice about her boat and maybe give you a good idea. Or you might give her a good idea, and then she'd be very grateful.
FINE
...is that like, internet shouting? Given he's just stomped off after glaring at me like some sort of mini-John...
At least he agreed? Sort of...
...I sort of thought it was more of a 'shut up now' sort of 'fine' than a ...'fine' sort of 'fine'.
Proof's in the pudding?
Maybe, although generally when he means 'shut up' he just says that. Yeah, we'll see. It's like a preview of him as a teenager.
The very first time his door slams he forfeits having a door for the rest of his teenage years.
Hmm. You can explain that one to him.
Hah, thanks :)
I made that same exact vow before discovering that removing the door from the hinges isn't as easy as I thought it would be.
Maybe not such a pitfall for those who are better with hand tools than I.
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