The Ethan Update: Science Edition

Every night at dinner we ask the kids what their favorite part of the day was. Tonight, Ethan's answer was science class, where he learned that hydrogen has one electron and one proton. Then:
Me: "Ethan, if Katie were an element, what would her properties be?"
Ethan, after pondering for a millisecond: "She'd be essential to making rainbows and unicorns." (Actually, I think he said "rainbow-pooping unicorns," but an "ahem" from his dad altered his answer).
Jerome: "When she came in contact with boys, she'd have the same properties as unobtainium. Also, she'd have a lot of free radicals."
Me: "She may produce a lot of radicals but they wouldn't be free, 'cause nothing about my girl is cheap. So Ethan, what properties would Ethanium would have?"
Ethan: "I don't know but there'd be a lot of it in Pop Tarts."

The Katie Chronicles: Mom Tracking Edition

Katie was looking for a favorite skirt she'd misplaced and wanted to wear. I said, "Katie, look on the dining room table." (Yes, really. Don't ask.) Katie said, "That's why I like mommies. They are smart and they can find things. Even daddies can find things sometimes."

My Grandmother

Picture from my grandmother's college
freshman yearbook in 1926.

My maternal grandmother had an interesting life. She rebelled against her father who told her education was wasted on women and worked her way through a women's college in the 1920s. She went on to get a master's degree later. She was a farm wife during the Depression and also had a career with the Department of Human Services and Bureau of Indian Affairs, helping native children who'd been abused or neglected. She survived more than her share of tragedy, as my grandfather died at 52 and she buried two of her three daughters. The first child to pass was my Aunt Phyllis, born when my grandma was 40 and my mom was in high school. Phyllis got a form of polio when she was 11 months old and died within 24 hours. My grandma wrote poetry and songs and I recently found some of them. This is one she wrote for my Aunt Phyllis.

Bereavement

Clasping my hands, they murmur
Do not grieve.
She's better off.
The world is so unkind
To little girls.
So little do they know
What's on my mind.
Does God rock her when she falls?
And kiss her bumps?
And hear her when she calls
For "dinke" in the night?
And smile a little when she says,
"Turn on de dite
'Cause I not seepy, pease"?
Does he take her then and rock her
'Til her head begins to nod?
For if he does, I'd give my life
One night to change with God.