The other day we found this drawing in the house. It was done by our four-year-old son, Ike. At first glance it might seem that our sweet little boy is a little bit fixated on—let’s just call them “lady parts.”
But you’d be wrong. Dead wrong, actually. After a little questioning we discovered that these are actually the young artist’s rendering of a pair of Cylon Raiders.
Innocence restored, for a season.
On Superbowl Sunday, we made all the game day food (wings, guacamole, etc.) and then Alisa watched Masterpiece Theater. I read Proust. And, oh, yay, without any help from the Petersen family, Manning took a dive so New Orleans could win, selflessly healing the country, just like Sandra Bullock.
Sorry, America. Football is boring.
Zoë has astounded everyone with her announcement that she would very much like to audition for a local production of Seussical: The Musical. This comes from a kid who is pretty close to winning the Oscar for shyest person in the universe.
Here’s a secret video of her song rehearsals. She chose Priscilla Ahn’s song “Wallflower,” which isn’t really a Broadway hit, but we don’t listen to many Broadway hits around here. In this respect, Alisa and I are useless to her budding career in musical theater.
Zoë’s Audition Practice from Todd Robert Petersen on Vimeo.
We’re proud of her. She auditions at 5:15 on Monday. Wish her luck.
Learn how to manage your kid’s career by taking a few courses through one of the many accredited online universities. A class or two in management and your number one star will be on the way to fame.
It is nearly ten o’clock, and
from my chair I can hear
pages turning crisply, slowly
in another room.
Thinking I am the only one
still awake, I walk the house
until I find a canted box
of light painting the hallway
in front of my daughter’s room.
I stand in the doorway
with an elbow against the jamb,
fist to my temple.
She’s contorted in her bed,
angling a book toward
the lamp. One sweep of her finger
reveals an ear.
She turns one page, then
another. How long until she
is just a snapshot on the fridge?
My job isn’t perfect. Most aren’t. I’d like more money. Most people do. I’d like a lighter teaching load. That goes without saying. But I decided a while ago that I didn’t want my primary identity to be through my job.
The photo above is a simple shot of the world through my front window. I’m not sure there are many jobs for which I am trained and suited that can outstrip having that view available. There are plenty of other reasons for wanting to live in a place, and the job should be in support of living in a place that makes everyone in your family feel right. So, that said. I’m really happy here. Who knows what that’ll mean in the future, but for now, we’re very happy.
I’m off to another conference (sigh). This makes three out-of-towns in October, which is really high on the “¡Aye Carumba!” scale. So high, it’s actually prompting a change in behavior on my part: I’m planning to back off outward expressions of my creative life, at least for the moment. Rift is out, and there’s a certain amount of work to be done there with readings and events and promotion, but other than that, I’m itching to make new things and finish old projects.
This means I’m not necessarily going to say no to new projects and appearances, but I’m going to start selecting things that fit into the “create mode” rather than the “present mode.” There is a time and a place for present, but I feel like I’ve been presenting myself into a place where my store of created material is becoming depleted pretty fast. The tank isn’t on empty, but it’s not on full either.
I want to finish a collection of interlocking stories I’ve been working on for a really long time. It’s called Small World, and there will be six long stories of about 25-30 pages each. In each story a character and/or situation from a preceding story will take center stage. In fact, each successive story will add to the plot and subtext of the earlier stories. Yes, it is a little bit like LOST in story format.
I want to throw myself into the blog a bit more. I am working on short memoir posts. On my trip to DC this week, I’m going to be sketching these things out. I’m also working on some ideas about how a creative life and family life spark when they bump into each other. I’ll have a long first post out this Sunday.
And finally I want to work on my retelling of the old folktale “The Little Red Hen.” In my version, the hen asks for help from a pig, a cat, a goose, and a coldwar-era Soviet tactical robot.
I found this little watercolor painting lying around in the house this weekend. While I was scanning it Ike came up and told me he painted it. Then Zoë appeared, crying that she had painted a heart and Ike ruined it with all the “Halloween stuff.”
Ike did not deny it but agreed, saying, “I put in the bones and the scary parts.” Zoë harumphed and stomped off. I don’t like to side with one kid or the other, but the Halloween parts are really the most amazing thing. It’s pretty great blown up, too. We might print it and frame it.
The other day my kids were having breakfast in the kitchen, perched on stools at the counter. My youngest looked at his sister, swallowed a bite of his cereal, and said, “It’s duck season.”
Zoë, without a pause, said, “Rabbit season.”
Just as quick, Ike said, “Duck season.”
Back and forth they went until Ike said suddenly, “Wait, stop. Okay, Zoë now it’s rabbit season. Boom!” Then they both collapsed into fits of laughter. It was a pleasure to watch.
I was beaming. This meant that my labors had been successful, at least partially so. You see, this is a triumph in parenting for me. I have been trying to give my kids what could be called a classical education in cartoons. I started them with Steamboat Willie and moved them on to Felix the Cat and Fleisher Brothers Superman serials. They are well acquainted with the more contemporary Pixar and Miyazaki. Thanks to YouTube and Netflix, I have been able to widen the survey to include Warner Brothers.
I had no idea if any of this was working until that morning. I am so proud of these kids. Nothing shows me a literate mind more than getting a joke. And, did they ever get it. Bravo, kids. Bravo. You make your old man proud.
We try to have simple rules around my house, real simple principles that can govern a lot of situations. The baby/toddler principles were this:
The new principles are coming out like this:
We are also working on one kind of additional practice with the kids. They are getting frustrated a lot these days. So, when frustration mounts, particularly with something we are helping them with, my wife and I are trying to train them to say, “Thanks, but that’s not how I want it.”
We want them to say this instead of screaming.
It might be too much to ask, but if we don’t start now, it’ll just be terrible for the next 15 years of our lives.
Add One of Ike, Too
What started with a lens and camera calibration check is turning out to be a full fledged family portrait project. I think these photographs really capture personality as well as the look of each person at this point in our lives.
Here’s the five-year-old, Ike. Next will be to catch the elusive critter, Zoë Ingrid.