To
tell you the truth, my biological clock exploded a long time ago, and I have no
desire to reproduce. But after the explosion of weddings in the last couple of
years, most of my friends are becoming parents. Inevitably, our conversations
turn toward child-rearing, and linger around the host of anxieties that
accompany the prospect of bringing new life into the world.
Sam, not quite three and a half, was stomping through
the street-side puddles of an Arizona spring.
In a playful mood, too, I called out the warning, “Watch out for puddle
gators!”
As
we walked through the relatively new and extremely inviting Yaku Museum of
Water
in Quito, Ecuador, we were struck by the lack of visitors, this late winter
morning in the middle of the week. Where
were all the school buses full of elementary age children with their teachers?
As
I sat this past January in my hotel room at the base of Tungurahua volcano,
listening to her active rumblings, I was both fascinated and apprehensive. It gave me a new perspective on the purpose of
our trip to Ecuador. What do children in
Tungurahua Province need to know about science?
Two years ago, I sent out an e-mail to the CSPO community about my dismay at finding in my one-year-old’s “First Word” book at the time that the word “tractor” is, apparently, an incredibly important word despite the fact that < 2% of the US population still lives on a farm.
