So today I was at the park with the kids and two other moms came over to sit on my bench. One of the new moms said to the other that she looked familiar, and they quickly figured out that they both have a son of the same age that goes to W.O. Mitchell, which is the same local primary school that the Captain will be attending in September. It turns out that the two boys in question were in the same Grade 1 class — a French Immersion class. But after Grade 1, Mom1 pulled her son out of FI and put him into the English stream instead; Mom2 kept her kid in FI.

They started to talk about why Mom1 had pulled her son out, and why Mom2 had left her son in, and needless to say, I was VERY interested in this conversation. Unfortunately Mom1 clearly had a lot to say on the subject and a bit of a chip on her shoulder, so I didn’t hear too many “pro” arguments from Mom2, just a lot of ranting from Mom1. She took her son out of FI because he disliked his teacher so much that he was refusing to go to school, and when he was at school, he was refusing to speak French, even though his history of JK and SK all in French (at a different school) meant that he was already fairly familiar with the language. Since the teacher would only speak in French, though, and the kid hated it and refused to do it, there was a communication barrier that could not be overcome, so for Grade 2, they moved him into the English stream. I doubt this is a common case, but interesting nonetheless.

After listening to them talk, here are some new points I picked up:

1. Some websites I have seen advocated putting your kid in FI to “see how it goes,” and then pulling them out after a year or two if it isn’t going well. But Mom1 says that her son is so behind now in English reading and comprehension, not having had the years it takes for the FI kids to “catch up,” that he has to have remedial reading classes and finds the English stream to be pretty challenging.
2. Mom1 has her daughter in the English-only stream, and she claims that they start working on reading and spelling a year earlier — in SK, instead of mid-Grade 1. The faster start means that her daughter is now a much much better reader than her son, and is learning many things that the FI kids don’t even touch on for the first few years.
3. Mom1 mentioned briefly that the school in question is considering getting late immersion, and might have it by the time her daughter (currently in SK) hits Grade 4.

So again, more stuff to think about. Can you tell though, that I am coming down on the con side? Can ya?

Captain Jelly Belly likes to show us how fast he can run. Lately, in the style of Lightning McQueen, he’s taken to whispering “Stay focused” to himself as he revs up, then runs off with a burst of speed. So charming!

A few days ago, after we talked about how Ottawa is in the Stanley Cup finals, Gal Smiley woke up in the morning and the first thing she did was shout out, “CANADA IS GOING TO WIN! CANADA IS GOING TO WIN!” So I guess that settles that. So charming!

I have learned that DEET is essential to my ability to live on this earth.

Captain Jelly Belly officially enters the public school system in September, starting in Junior Kindergarten. Although JK is in English, French Immersion begins in Senior Kindergarten, so we’re already trying to decide what we are going to do about that. It’s turning out to be a very hard decision, and even though we have several months to think it over, it will probably take us that long — at least — to figure out what to do.

On the pro side, our kids would get to learn a language when their brains are flexible enough to easily absorb it, and some studies have shown that learning a second language as a child makes you a better problem solver and creative thinker later in life. Since our country is bilingual, knowing French will help you in the workforce, either working for the government or any other position that involves dealing with the public. Most of our friends are putting their kids in French Immersion, so the Captain will be able to stay with the kids he already knows.

On the more abstract side, it appears that the existence of French Immersion — which is very prevalent in Ottawa, in that practically every public school has a program — has created two “streams” of students. Teachers advise parents on who will and won’t do well in FI, and usually, they recommend that kids with good language skills and who are quick learners go into the FI program. As a result, the “smart” kids are heading into FI — FI kids consistently have better test scores than the English streamers — while “problem” kids or kids with learning or social problems are streamed into the English program. And so, even though we are not sold on FI, since the Captain is clearly quite clever, we want him to be in the “smart kid” stream, don’t we? Ironically, detractors of immersion often cite this situation as “elitism,” and use it as an argument to eliminate FI altogether. But since I don’t see that happening any time soon, maybe we should take advantage of the more “advanced” stream that is being created, and put our son in that.

On the con side, though, is that the first few years are going to be really hard. There’s no doubt that FI kids lag behind English stream kids in terms of English comprehension and vocabulary for at least the first three or four years, and their skills in other subjects are also behind, as the focus is on learning the language, not the math/history/spelling basics. Apparently, the FI kids will “catch up” by grade 5 or 6, but you have to be pretty damn committed to the program to watch your kid strugging with reading in grade 4 and not think that something is wrong. Also on the con side is that the French that is taught in FI is “official” French, meaning from the dictionary — slang is not covered. Since we don’t speak any French at home, there is plenty of evidence that by the time CJB reaches grade 8, he’ll be “school fluent” — able to translate his English thoughts directly into French — but actually unable to carry on a real conversation with natural French-speakers. Anecdotes on the internet from people who have been through FI say that they find it easier, in Quebec or even France, to just find an English-speaking person, than to try to struggle through their French phrasing. So, what is the point of FI then?

And another con, which is big for me personally, is that FI kids often have trouble writing in English. Although their reading and speaking skills in English will catch up, eventually, their writing skills, particularly advanced grammar and spelling, will always suffer. I value my writing skills highly, and in today’s internet world, where kids are already using “l8r” and other such crap to communicate, I can’t imagine what kind of illiterate goon we might produce if he goes through the FI stream.

And lastly, I read an interesting article online written by a woman who had started her son in FI, but then pulled him out around grade 4. Her reasoning was that he had lost his love of learning. His whole school career was focussed on learning the mechanics of the language; his natural curiousity in the subjects themselves had disappeared. Whereas he used to be into art and math and reading, instead, he now was completely geared towards just learning to talk. He couldn’t ask questions about his favourite subjects because he didn’t have the vocabulary; he couldn’t enjoy his classes because part of the time, he just didn’t understand. Sure, that would all “work out eventually,” but by then, maybe his ability to think of school as a fun place of happy learning would have disappeared.

One option is to put our kids in “late” French Immersion, which starts in grade 4, instead of in Kindergarten. Apparently, this will give them time to cement their English skills a bit better, but also start them early enough that they can become fluent in French. But one major drawback for us for this case is that our local school only offers FI starting in Kindergarten. If you want late FI, you have to switch schools, and by the time he’s in grade 4, I can’t see CJB wanting to leave all his friends for a new place where they don’t even speak his language. So it looks like it’s SK or nothing, for us.

Anyway, I wanted to get some of my thoughts on this down while we were thinking about it, and I also wanted to invite anyone out there with an opinion to weigh in. I think is slightly pro-FI, and I am more than slightly against-FI, so if anyone out there went through it, or knows someone who went through it, or knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who went through it, I’d love to hear what you have to say.

Sir Monkeypants’ sister was visiting from Toronto for the long weekend, along with my two adorable nephews, 10-year-old AvidReader and 6-year-old ChitChat. The two boys are really into Nintendo games now, and I think Sir Monkeypants seriously considered going out and buying a Gamecube just to make their weekend in Ottawa that much more complete, and also because the thought of spending a whole weekend playing Nintendo games with two worthy opponents was pretty much his dream come true.

I talked him out of it, but we did get out our old N64 to try to amuse them. We used to play it all the time before we had kids, with Mario Party and Goldeneye being our two favourite games. After an argument, we’d get out Goldeneye and play it in one-on-one mode, in which you stalk each other through a building and try to shoot each other in the head. A few rounds of splattered brains were usually enough for us to get past the fight and make up. Mario Party is a silly but totally addictive board game suitable for the whole family, and we used to play it for hours and hours; just as bedtime would be rolling around, Sir Monkeypants would offer, “A little Mario Party? Quick game?” and I’d sigh and say yes, and next thing you knew, midnight was rolling around while you screamed at the screen, “EAT MARIO, EAT, YOU BASTARD!!” while pounding on the A key. Good times.

We bought the N64 after a visit to BarkyShark and TheRarGuy, maybe six or seven years ago, I think. We haven’t had a chance to play it much since the kids were born, and in fact, it has never been out of the box we moved it in during the 2 1/2 years we’ve lived in this house. But now that it’s out, I hope it stays out. I’ve never gotten into the more complex, violent, adult games that the XBox seems to feature, but I always loved the childish fun of the Nintendo stuff. This past weekend was totally trippy and also a roaring good time. Even CJB and GS loved to watch us play the various mini-games, and we eventually let the Captain give Eatsa Pizza a try, although in the end I think he was content to just be a bystander to the action. I believe I have found a way to pass away the summer months, now that the TV season is over. Eat, Mario, eat!

I don’t usually hang out on YouTube, but someone sent me this little clip video and I just loved it. In honour of the AFI’s many lists of “100 movies,” someone made an assembly of movie clips that actually mention all the numbers from 100 down to 1. Some classics, some interesting rareties, and some silliness too. Any movie lover will enjoy!

Captain Jelly Belly’s six-year-old cousin, ChitChat, is up visiting for the weekend. They are crazy about each other and love all the same things, so they have a great time together and are always super excited when we get a chance to visit.

I just can’t get enough of listening to them talk to each other. They have the most adorable “conversations” where they both kind of talk AT each other, on a similar topic, but not really listening or communicating. But neither of them minds — they’re both just silly with enjoyment at each other’s presence. Here’s a sample conversation from yesterday in the car, where they were both playing with toys from the movie Cars:

ChitChat: I like your car The King.
Captain: I think Lightning McQueen is the fastest.
ChitChat: We went to Florida but in the store there they didn’t have any The King.
Captain: Lightning knows how to drive backwards.
ChitChat: Did you get The King from a store, or from a Kindersurprise?
Captain: What’s a Kindersurprise?
ChitChat: It’s an egg with a toy in the middle.
Captain: I can’t eat eggs, eggs make me sick.
ChitChat: It’s not a real egg, it’s made of chocolate, with a toy inside.
Captain: Are there eggs in it?
ChitChat: No, there is a toy in it.
Captain: Eggs make me sick.
ChitChat: Did your The King come from a Kindersurprise? It’s an egg, made of chocolate.
Captain: I like white chocolate but not brown chocolate.
ChitChat: A Kindersurprise has both!
Captain: We bought The King at the store.

So adorable!

Today is quite possibly the luckiest day of my life.

Here’s what happened. I was out shopping with Gal Smiley this morning, and I decided to make a quick stop at Carlingwood (official motto: The Old People’s Mall) to get some socks for the Captain. I knew I was already risking a cranky little girl since she’d already been in and out of her car seat twice, against her will, and a third stop was really pushing it. Inside the mall, Gal Smiley decided she was too tired to walk, and I wound up carrying her around since I didn’t have a stroller, and that’s uncomfortable and tiring for me in my current state. Plus, the store had socks in all colours and sizes except, of course, the very colour and size I needed. And to top things off, I hadn’t eaten in like, 20 minutes, which, for The Hoover, is a very long time indeed.

Around this time I realised that when I had taken Gal Smiley out of her car seat at the mall, I’d put my keys down on the floor in the back seat. And then locked the door using the automatic lock on the driver’s door. And closed up the van. With the keys inside.

Naturally this caused an immediate panic and stress-related spots before my eyes. I’d have to call Sir Monkeypants to race over and pick up the Captain from preschool, and then I’d have to call CAA to break me into my car, all the while trying to keep cranky Gal Smiley occupied and happy, preferably while not carrying her around. Nooooot gooood.

But! Here is where the story takes a turn for a happy ending. I looked in all the pockets of the diaper bag to make sure I hadn’t stuck them in somewhere weird and unusual, and what do I find lurking in the outside pocket? Sir Monkeypants’ keys to the van! Incredible! I still can’t really believe that this happened…it’s such a mind-boggling piece of luck. First of all, I’m lucky that he keeps his van key on a separate key ring, so he doesn’t have to carry it around all the time. Second, I’m lucky that he has the fob that auto-opens the sliding door, which Gal Smiley likes to play with, which he keeps offering to give to me as the majority driver of the van but I’ve been too lazy to bother to take. Third, I’m lucky that two days ago, while going out with the Gal, she found the key fob in the front table drawer and insisted on taking it so she could be the one to open her own door, and I was in a patient mood, so I let her take it. Fourth, I’m lucky that after I took the fob and key away from her, I stuffed it in the diaper bag, and forgot all about it.

Sooooo seriously lucky. No matter what else happens today, today earns an A+.

From now on, I am gluing my keys to my hand. Or maybe I’ll just wear them on a retractable chain attached to my waist in a glamourous, I-am-a-geek, I-shop-at-the-old-people-mall kind of way.

Last summer, Sir Monkeypants spent many long, hard hours building a swingset in our backyard. It’s an awesome structure, with a treehouse-type fort, slide, pirate wheel, and three swings. I did almost nothing to help with this project, except for occasionally trying feebly to get the kids out of his hair while he was using scary things like circular saws and nail guns. I didn’t do a very good job of curbing their interest, but hey, no one ended up with a nail in their head, so I consider that a success.

When the swingset was all done, I had just one job to do, and that was to decide what to do with the space under the elevated deck of the treehouse part. In theory it was a square space for a sandbox, but we had heard some horror stories about neighbourhood cats using uncovered sandboxes as litterboxes, and that was just too gross to even think about, so sand was out of the question. Eventually we decided to just fill it with gravel or mulch, and put a little picnic table there for the kids to have freezies in the shade.

The only real “step” in accomplishing this master design was killing the grass in the square. We definitely didn’t want it poking up through the gravel/mulch, and we definitely didn’t want to leave it as grass as it would be totally impossible to cut. Since it was such a small area with deep sides, and a low ceiling, it was really hard to try to pull up the sod, and I didn’t want to spray it with any of those products from the Home Depot that have a hundred warnings of INSTANT DEATH and the really cool picture of a skeleton hand on them, since the kids would be playing there. So I came up with my master plan: death through covering. I’d cut the grass as short as possible with our weed whacker, and then I’d get black garden fabric — the kind of stuff that is supposed to prevent weeds from rooting in a new garden — and lay it over the grass. Certainly nothing could survive this foolproof plan!

That was late last fall, and already, the plan seems to be failing. I can’t believe that grass that is getting no light at all can survive, but it seems to be having no trouble growing. Tall shoots are coming out the sides of the fabric, and little shoots are coming right through the fabric in a cool pattern that I believe spells out, “sucker.” I’ve been pulling out the little plants as fast as I can, and cutting down the sides, but man, I really, really hate that patch of grass. Why is it that the grass in our front yard gets dry and brittle and brown and full of weeds, while this little piece which is covered with black cloth seems to have no problem thriving? Nature, she is a bitch.

I must admit I never got around to actually adding the planned gravel/mulch/whatever on top of the fabric, so now my new plan is to go get that stuff, and dump it all over the fabric, and suffocate the hell out of the little green buggers. Hopefully it works…but to tell the truth, I think I can hear the grass blades giggling in victory already.

Today I picked up CJB from preschool, and one of the other mommies there exclaimed in surprised, because she hadn’t realised I was pregnant. I pick him up from school three mornings a week, so I see the other mommies all the time, but this sudden recogntion of pregnancy is happening at least three or four times a week now. It’s because it’s warmer out now, so I don’t have a big coat on, and the waddling is much more obvious. Plus, I guess I am now officially big enough so that it’s no longer a possible faux pas to assume I am pregnant, although in my opinion, I’ve been undoubtably basketball-shaped for at least two months now.

Side note: also freakishly confirming the pregnancy, the baby is currently in a weird position where its feet are right behind my belly button, causing the occasional rock-hard foot-shaped lump to appear in my midsection. Whoever wrote Alien definitely was inspired by someone’s pregnancy!

Anyway, it’s kind of weird but kind of nice to have so many people noticing now that I’m expecting, and asking the usual excited questions about the baby. But in the meantime, I have learned that a) most of my coats, which I can still get into at 7 months pregnant, are way, way too big for me, and Stacy and Clinton of What Not To Wear would be horrified, and b) really big coats and sweaters can hide an awful lot. Like, four pounds of baby and weird alien belly movements. Good to know!