We haven’t gotten the hang of how much Chinese food to order yet for the four of us. This sounds simple, and I agree, it should be but it seems as though we keep reducing or order to smaller and smaller amounts and we still have far too much left over.
Two “meals” that come with white rice and a soup was too much. We dropped down to one meal and one “combination” that included in a single container a smaller portion of the main item, a side of rice, one egg roll and a small soup. This too, proved to leave us with more than one additional meal of leftovers.
Next we’re planning on ordering one single “combination” meal (designed for one person) and add in an additional small soup and see if that’s the right amount of food for our family of four.
We’ve gotten to the point our order is small enough it doesn’t qualify for delivery, which is fine as the restaurant is quite close. I’d rather get the right amount than look at those red Chinese food containers in the refrigerator three days later and wonder why we ordered so much.
The Big Boy Update: This morning shortly after I got up my son looked quizzically at me and said, “mom, who do you have more cuts all over your face?” Cuts? I was confused. I asked him to show me where and then looked in the mirror. I said, “oh, those are wrinkles from where the pillow pressed into my face while I was asleep.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter, overhearing the above conversation jumped in and said, “you can also get wrinkles from the bath tub too.”
Tuesday, May 31, 2016
Monday, May 30, 2016
The 3D Puzzle Memory
I helped my husband put a 3D puzzle together today from the company https://ugearsmodels.com. It was a combination safe made entirely of wooden pieces. I was the piece preparer, locating the pieces for the upcoming steps, removing them from the laser cut sheets of wood and laying them out in order so he could do the assembling. We’ve done this type of work together before with Legos, but this particular model brought back memories of a similar project I’d helped with when I was a child many years ago.
On Christmas day we always went to my parent’s best friend’s house for dinner. Their son was four years older and one of my good friends, albeit a friend I looked up to because a four year age difference when your a child is a big difference in both knowledge and maturity. So basically, I looked up to him in every way.
That Christmas he’d gotten a clock that needed a lot of assembly. It told time via small metal balls and lots of black plastic parts and chutes to make it work. Richard and I sat at a desk with Richard diligently following every step of the instructions while I helped in what must have been a nominal way until the project was completed.
When it was done we sat and marveled at how it worked. Every minute a ball would roll through the machine. At five minutes the weight was shifted by the five balls in the minutes area and a “five minute” value ball would be added into the larger minutes stack. At sixty minutes twelve balls would roll around the chutes and an hour ball would be added into the hour slot. The most exciting event of all was when it was 11:59 at which point all three areas would be full and one minute later every ball would empty itself out to reset to twelve o’clock.
It was an exciting little machine. I did a quick web search and it’s apparently called “The Time Machine". Here’s a picture:
On Christmas day we always went to my parent’s best friend’s house for dinner. Their son was four years older and one of my good friends, albeit a friend I looked up to because a four year age difference when your a child is a big difference in both knowledge and maturity. So basically, I looked up to him in every way.
That Christmas he’d gotten a clock that needed a lot of assembly. It told time via small metal balls and lots of black plastic parts and chutes to make it work. Richard and I sat at a desk with Richard diligently following every step of the instructions while I helped in what must have been a nominal way until the project was completed.
When it was done we sat and marveled at how it worked. Every minute a ball would roll through the machine. At five minutes the weight was shifted by the five balls in the minutes area and a “five minute” value ball would be added into the larger minutes stack. At sixty minutes twelve balls would roll around the chutes and an hour ball would be added into the hour slot. The most exciting event of all was when it was 11:59 at which point all three areas would be full and one minute later every ball would empty itself out to reset to twelve o’clock.
It was an exciting little machine. I did a quick web search and it’s apparently called “The Time Machine". Here’s a picture:
I haven’t seen one in decades, but it looks just like I remember it, black plastic and all. That was a fun Christmas and an exciting project to help with. I think Richard kept it for years. I wonder if he still has it.
The Big Boy Update: My son is good at throwing a frisbee. I got a large nylon flying disk (which I’m incorrectly referring to as a “frisbee” because that’s the word I associate with all things classified as “flying discs). My son was playing out in the yard with our sitter and then later with my husband and me in the evening. He could even aim and hit the tree trunk.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter said in the car today, “Mom, do you know who I’m going to marry? I’m going to marry Madison”. My son said, “no, you can’t marry a girl”. My daughter followed up with, “yes you can!” My son thought for a second and said, “but I don’t want to marry a boy.” My husband and I explained the important thing was to marry someone you loved and we knew they’d make the best choice for them when the time came. They both thought that made sense.
Sunday, May 29, 2016
When You Don’t Let Them Do What You Want Them To Do
Sometimes as a parent you have to not let your children do something you actually want them to do—something that you might even have difficulty getting them to do in the first place. Sometimes, this tactic is a long term win for a short term lose.
I’ve had an angry child who didn’t want to go to school and after being unceremoniously removed from the car on the side of the road, wanted nothing more in the world than to go to school. Children are smart, but they don’t get some of the more involved schemes we use to get desirable behaviors.
Friday night both children were tired after a long day at school, the pool and then playing with their friends. My daughter didn’t want to brush her teeth (or do anything else for that matter) and decided to be uncooperative on every level possible. I was hurting her she said, this being one of her favorite complaints when she’s tired, cranky or just wants to get her way. She didn’t know how to brush her teeth, she needed my help to do it, I was hurting her by helping her, she wanted to spit at the mirror, you get the idea.
I decided to make a point of her not getting to brush her teeth—something she very much insists on doing every night as well as insisting on flossing her teeth. I picked her up and said in that case, she didn’t get to brush her teeth and she could go straight to bed. The operative word in that last sentence was “get” to brush her teeth instead of “have” to brush her teeth and she realized it immediately.
She was crazy upset. She kicked and screamed, she said her mouth hadn’t been rinsed. I had put her into the bed and told her if she wanted to rise her mouth she could get up and get some water from the sink in her bedroom. She was livid. She screamed some more. She didn’t want to rinse, she wanted to brush her teeth. I told her she could brush her teeth tomorrow. She wailed. She cried for daddy. She went on and on, inconsolable because she wasn’t being allowed to do the very thing I tried seven different ways to get her to do only moments before.
She finally settled down and cried herself to sleep, still muttering about brushing her teeth and the total injustice of it all. The next day she didn’t complain or protest when it was time to brush teeth.
The Big Boy Update: During the above tooth brushing incident, my son was great. He got into his bed without complaints. However, he didn’t like how things were going down with his sister and me on the bunk below so he calmly informed me, “Mommy, you’re not getting any presents for Christmas.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: During my daughter’s wailing about not being allowed to brush her teeth she tried many tactics to get me to reverse my decision and let her have a second (fifth?) chance to brush her teeth. My favorite was, “the only thing that cheers me up is brushing my teeth.”
Rock Tumbler Update: Today was the end of the second week of tumbling. We’re in the pre-polishing phase now for another week. Our two-thirds full tumbler is now about one-third full, but the rocks don’t look too bad. They’re wet and look shinier than they would dry, but here’s what we have as of today:
I’ve had an angry child who didn’t want to go to school and after being unceremoniously removed from the car on the side of the road, wanted nothing more in the world than to go to school. Children are smart, but they don’t get some of the more involved schemes we use to get desirable behaviors.
Friday night both children were tired after a long day at school, the pool and then playing with their friends. My daughter didn’t want to brush her teeth (or do anything else for that matter) and decided to be uncooperative on every level possible. I was hurting her she said, this being one of her favorite complaints when she’s tired, cranky or just wants to get her way. She didn’t know how to brush her teeth, she needed my help to do it, I was hurting her by helping her, she wanted to spit at the mirror, you get the idea.
I decided to make a point of her not getting to brush her teeth—something she very much insists on doing every night as well as insisting on flossing her teeth. I picked her up and said in that case, she didn’t get to brush her teeth and she could go straight to bed. The operative word in that last sentence was “get” to brush her teeth instead of “have” to brush her teeth and she realized it immediately.
She was crazy upset. She kicked and screamed, she said her mouth hadn’t been rinsed. I had put her into the bed and told her if she wanted to rise her mouth she could get up and get some water from the sink in her bedroom. She was livid. She screamed some more. She didn’t want to rinse, she wanted to brush her teeth. I told her she could brush her teeth tomorrow. She wailed. She cried for daddy. She went on and on, inconsolable because she wasn’t being allowed to do the very thing I tried seven different ways to get her to do only moments before.
She finally settled down and cried herself to sleep, still muttering about brushing her teeth and the total injustice of it all. The next day she didn’t complain or protest when it was time to brush teeth.
The Big Boy Update: During the above tooth brushing incident, my son was great. He got into his bed without complaints. However, he didn’t like how things were going down with his sister and me on the bunk below so he calmly informed me, “Mommy, you’re not getting any presents for Christmas.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: During my daughter’s wailing about not being allowed to brush her teeth she tried many tactics to get me to reverse my decision and let her have a second (fifth?) chance to brush her teeth. My favorite was, “the only thing that cheers me up is brushing my teeth.”
Rock Tumbler Update: Today was the end of the second week of tumbling. We’re in the pre-polishing phase now for another week. Our two-thirds full tumbler is now about one-third full, but the rocks don’t look too bad. They’re wet and look shinier than they would dry, but here’s what we have as of today:
Saturday, May 28, 2016
The Cloth Confusion
I experienced something today that happens from time to time. It’s not a good or a bad thing, it’s more about preference and the “what you know is what you like” mentality. It has to do with white cloths.
At our house we use twelve-inch square white hand cloths for many purposes. They’re cleaning cloths, drying cloths, dusting cloths and napkins to name a few that come to mind. In almost all cases, when many people reach for a paper towel, napkin or other disposable item, we use white cloths. We wash them and use them again and again. It’s the most ubiquitous tool in our house, used by parents and children alike.
Today we were at the house (and pool) of close friends for a cookout and pool party. As is common with parties, much of it happens in the kitchen. I had brought a cheese plate that needed setting up and some watermelon. There were finger foods and drinks to be served. My children wanted food, more food, and then even more food.
Throughout the afternoon I would need to wipe my hands, mouth, clean up something, clean up a very messy post-cupcake child’s face, or dry something. In each of these situations I wanted to have a good, sturdy cloth with lots of absorption power to get the job done and then stick around with me because I was surely going to need to use it again in sheer moments.
The only option I had at their house was paper towels. Paper towels work well, it just wasn’t what I was used to. One paper towel would likely do the job, even when wet, but it felt weak and flimsy and it’s absorption powers were questionable in my mind. Did I need two paper towels? I didn’t know because I truthfully don’t use them very often. I think we change paper towel rolls out in our house about once a month.
I also don’t know when to throw the paper towel away. Sure, you’re using it for a meal and when you’re done eating out it goes, but what if you just dried your hands on it after washing them? Is it good to then clean the counter top with after lunch? Do you always throw them away after a single use? Where do you store them if you’re still in the “usable window” of a particular towel?
All those questions I know the answers to with white cloths and how we use them in our house. Sometimes, when we go on trips, I bring along a few cloths of my own so I can have them for me or for the children in the case of a red sauce pasta dinner because that is a two cloth minimum meal for them—I can’t imagine how many napkins or paper towels they’d need to make it through the meal.
The Big Boy Update: I asked my son if he wanted to help me with laundry folding this morning. I offered a quarter for the assistance. He argued about how many quarters he should get with numbers ranging as high as twenty. Finally he said, “I’ll do it for a dime”, in a tone that told me that was the last compromise he intended to make. I chuckled and told him he’d convinced me and I would be glad to pay him a dime for his help. He folded a very tidy stack of white cloths.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has been less interested in using her iPad on the stand that lets her lie on her back to watch it. She prefers to sit or lie on her stomach and look at it that way. Tonight she asked if she could not use that iPad stand anymore. Hopefully something is improving visually that makes her prefer to watch in other ways.
At our house we use twelve-inch square white hand cloths for many purposes. They’re cleaning cloths, drying cloths, dusting cloths and napkins to name a few that come to mind. In almost all cases, when many people reach for a paper towel, napkin or other disposable item, we use white cloths. We wash them and use them again and again. It’s the most ubiquitous tool in our house, used by parents and children alike.
Today we were at the house (and pool) of close friends for a cookout and pool party. As is common with parties, much of it happens in the kitchen. I had brought a cheese plate that needed setting up and some watermelon. There were finger foods and drinks to be served. My children wanted food, more food, and then even more food.
Throughout the afternoon I would need to wipe my hands, mouth, clean up something, clean up a very messy post-cupcake child’s face, or dry something. In each of these situations I wanted to have a good, sturdy cloth with lots of absorption power to get the job done and then stick around with me because I was surely going to need to use it again in sheer moments.
The only option I had at their house was paper towels. Paper towels work well, it just wasn’t what I was used to. One paper towel would likely do the job, even when wet, but it felt weak and flimsy and it’s absorption powers were questionable in my mind. Did I need two paper towels? I didn’t know because I truthfully don’t use them very often. I think we change paper towel rolls out in our house about once a month.
I also don’t know when to throw the paper towel away. Sure, you’re using it for a meal and when you’re done eating out it goes, but what if you just dried your hands on it after washing them? Is it good to then clean the counter top with after lunch? Do you always throw them away after a single use? Where do you store them if you’re still in the “usable window” of a particular towel?
All those questions I know the answers to with white cloths and how we use them in our house. Sometimes, when we go on trips, I bring along a few cloths of my own so I can have them for me or for the children in the case of a red sauce pasta dinner because that is a two cloth minimum meal for them—I can’t imagine how many napkins or paper towels they’d need to make it through the meal.
The Big Boy Update: I asked my son if he wanted to help me with laundry folding this morning. I offered a quarter for the assistance. He argued about how many quarters he should get with numbers ranging as high as twenty. Finally he said, “I’ll do it for a dime”, in a tone that told me that was the last compromise he intended to make. I chuckled and told him he’d convinced me and I would be glad to pay him a dime for his help. He folded a very tidy stack of white cloths.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has been less interested in using her iPad on the stand that lets her lie on her back to watch it. She prefers to sit or lie on her stomach and look at it that way. Tonight she asked if she could not use that iPad stand anymore. Hopefully something is improving visually that makes her prefer to watch in other ways.
Friday, May 27, 2016
Six Months
My dog, Lucy, is about twelve-and-a-half years old. She’s a long-haired chihuahua who has never been high-strung like some small dogs are. She gets edgy around small children because their quick movements frighten her, but overall she’s friendly, liking people and other dogs alike.
When she was a puppy we discovered her patellas dislocated more so than not so she had two patella attachment surgeries, resulting in pins and a future of arthritis when she became older. She’s been in good health otherwise aside from a tick incident when she ran into a next of nymphs and had over eight-hundred baby ticks on her a few years ago.
About two years back her veterinarian did bloodworm and some x-rays on her to see how her knees were doing. At that time he discovered she had an enlarged heart. We’ve been treating it with medication and she’s been doing fairly well.
Recently my husband and I’ve noticed she’s been sometimes lethargic, sometimes breathing heavier and coughing. We took her in today to make sure her arthritis wasn’t getting worse and to have her checked into overall.
I got a call from her doctor mid-day saying he’d like to do another x-ray to see if her heart had grown larger because from what they could tell, her knees looked about the same. The harder breathing and coughing were more likely related to the heart size. I told him to go ahead and he said he’d follow up in a few hours.
He called back and said her heart was larger, but that was something that happens over time with the condition. He said he wanted to put her on a diuretic medication to reduce some of the surrounding fluid, which was connected to her coughing and would help reduce the pressure of her heart on her trachea so she could breathe easier and wouldn’t need to cough.
When my husband picked her up he talked to the doctor who told him the Vetmedin medication we’d had her on for the last two years was a marvel in that dogs with this condition historically weren’t able to survive long. Unfortunately, when your heart continues to grow while on the medication, it’s a sign the heart is moving into heart failure in the relatively near future. He said Lucy more than likely has six months longer before her heart can’t sustain her body any more.
Next week after the diuretic course is complete our veterinarian will reassess and see what additional medications to put her on. Then, we’ll monitor her and make sure she’s happy, well-loved and comfortable, understanding she isn’t going to be with us that much longer.
The Big Boy Update: My mother sang songs to the children over the phone last night as they were in their beds. My son told her, “Mimi, I want to marry you.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My son loves Legos. I discovered the other day that his sister does as well. I got a grocery store and ice cream shop set for young children to do with my daughter. She was very interested, did a lot of the pieces herself and helped me when she got tired of trying to visually align things. She could find the pieces by color and shape and enjoyed the whole project. When we were done with it she played with it for a whole day before an “invisible friend” broke it all apart and mom, do you think we could put it together again? She had just as much fun the second time putting it together.
When she was a puppy we discovered her patellas dislocated more so than not so she had two patella attachment surgeries, resulting in pins and a future of arthritis when she became older. She’s been in good health otherwise aside from a tick incident when she ran into a next of nymphs and had over eight-hundred baby ticks on her a few years ago.
About two years back her veterinarian did bloodworm and some x-rays on her to see how her knees were doing. At that time he discovered she had an enlarged heart. We’ve been treating it with medication and she’s been doing fairly well.
Recently my husband and I’ve noticed she’s been sometimes lethargic, sometimes breathing heavier and coughing. We took her in today to make sure her arthritis wasn’t getting worse and to have her checked into overall.
I got a call from her doctor mid-day saying he’d like to do another x-ray to see if her heart had grown larger because from what they could tell, her knees looked about the same. The harder breathing and coughing were more likely related to the heart size. I told him to go ahead and he said he’d follow up in a few hours.
He called back and said her heart was larger, but that was something that happens over time with the condition. He said he wanted to put her on a diuretic medication to reduce some of the surrounding fluid, which was connected to her coughing and would help reduce the pressure of her heart on her trachea so she could breathe easier and wouldn’t need to cough.
When my husband picked her up he talked to the doctor who told him the Vetmedin medication we’d had her on for the last two years was a marvel in that dogs with this condition historically weren’t able to survive long. Unfortunately, when your heart continues to grow while on the medication, it’s a sign the heart is moving into heart failure in the relatively near future. He said Lucy more than likely has six months longer before her heart can’t sustain her body any more.
Next week after the diuretic course is complete our veterinarian will reassess and see what additional medications to put her on. Then, we’ll monitor her and make sure she’s happy, well-loved and comfortable, understanding she isn’t going to be with us that much longer.
The Big Boy Update: My mother sang songs to the children over the phone last night as they were in their beds. My son told her, “Mimi, I want to marry you.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My son loves Legos. I discovered the other day that his sister does as well. I got a grocery store and ice cream shop set for young children to do with my daughter. She was very interested, did a lot of the pieces herself and helped me when she got tired of trying to visually align things. She could find the pieces by color and shape and enjoyed the whole project. When we were done with it she played with it for a whole day before an “invisible friend” broke it all apart and mom, do you think we could put it together again? She had just as much fun the second time putting it together.
Thursday, May 26, 2016
The Continents Song
My children like to select a song to play when we’re going places in the car. Commonly it’s one they’ve heard before and want to hear again. This is made much easier now via on-demand radio such as Pandora. The one that comes with our cars is Slacker Radio but it works the same way. I press down the voice command button and say, “play <insert name of song/artist/album>”. I’m prompted with suggestions based on my search phrase and select the song we want to hear from the list.
Any time you select music in this way the following songs are ones that would match the same musical category in one way or another. This is how we stumbled onto my daughter’s new favorite song, “Japanese Banana” by Alvin and the Chipmunks.
Sometimes one of the children will ask for a song I’ve never heard of before. They don’t know the artist and they may not even know the name of the song, only the key line in the chorus. It doesn’t hurt to ask and see what Slacker can find though so recently we have two new favorites, “Shake Shake Maracas” and “The Continents Song”—the latter being a guess on my part because the only lyrics my daughter was singing to me were continent names.
Sure enough, there’s “The Continents Song” which my daughter recognized immediately. This evening after swim practice my children asked for that song and as it played my daughter said, “Asia is my favorite continent.” My son had his own opinion and followed up with, “I like Europe the best.”
After the song finished a new song I’d never heard, by the same artist, began to play: “The States Song”. This was a fast-paced version of the fifty states in alphabetical order. My children didn’t have one favorite state though because as the song progressed they each would cry out, “California, I love California” or “Florida is my favorite because that’s where Nana and Papa live”. There were other states that got on their top list—about as many as they could shout out given the pace the singer was moving at.
The Big Boy Update: At dinner tonight my son voiced his displeasure by saying to my husband, “my ketchup’s warm and not hot. I’m upset.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Yesterday morning my daughter wanted to have yogurt for breakfast. She can get it out of the refrigerator herself, but as we were running low and the few that were left were at the back of the shelf, she needed assistance. She asked us what flavors were available. My husband and I started saying outrageous options like, “mongoose flavor” and “pine tree flavor.” She wasn’t interested until we got to “orangutan flavor” to which she replied, “ooo, orangutan?” in a tone that clearly said she’d made her selection.
Any time you select music in this way the following songs are ones that would match the same musical category in one way or another. This is how we stumbled onto my daughter’s new favorite song, “Japanese Banana” by Alvin and the Chipmunks.
Sometimes one of the children will ask for a song I’ve never heard of before. They don’t know the artist and they may not even know the name of the song, only the key line in the chorus. It doesn’t hurt to ask and see what Slacker can find though so recently we have two new favorites, “Shake Shake Maracas” and “The Continents Song”—the latter being a guess on my part because the only lyrics my daughter was singing to me were continent names.
Sure enough, there’s “The Continents Song” which my daughter recognized immediately. This evening after swim practice my children asked for that song and as it played my daughter said, “Asia is my favorite continent.” My son had his own opinion and followed up with, “I like Europe the best.”
After the song finished a new song I’d never heard, by the same artist, began to play: “The States Song”. This was a fast-paced version of the fifty states in alphabetical order. My children didn’t have one favorite state though because as the song progressed they each would cry out, “California, I love California” or “Florida is my favorite because that’s where Nana and Papa live”. There were other states that got on their top list—about as many as they could shout out given the pace the singer was moving at.
The Big Boy Update: At dinner tonight my son voiced his displeasure by saying to my husband, “my ketchup’s warm and not hot. I’m upset.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Yesterday morning my daughter wanted to have yogurt for breakfast. She can get it out of the refrigerator herself, but as we were running low and the few that were left were at the back of the shelf, she needed assistance. She asked us what flavors were available. My husband and I started saying outrageous options like, “mongoose flavor” and “pine tree flavor.” She wasn’t interested until we got to “orangutan flavor” to which she replied, “ooo, orangutan?” in a tone that clearly said she’d made her selection.
Wednesday, May 25, 2016
Cool Toys
As adults I think we’re still into toys. The toys become more expensive or more advanced, but they’re toys nonetheless. Neighbor has a new television? Let’s go have a look. A friend installed a pool table in their bonus room and wants to invite you over for a game? Definitely! A colleague got the latest in running shoes you haven’t seen on the market yet? Bring them in to work so I can see. The new, the upgraded, the latest and the fun—it’s what adult toys are made of.
Tonight we had some good friends over for dinner. My husband made Indian butter chicken from a new recipe he found. I had two-and-a-half bowls it was so delicious. Then, we got into toys. We talked about the latest things we’d been reading about, seen or had bought. My husband took them downstairs to show them the Oculus Rift virtual reality headset and software he’d recently gotten. This is a very, very impressively cool toy. Everyone who’s seen it has been more than impressed with the realism and the feeling of being in the scene, even though some of the scenes are cartoon graphics. The fight or flight and vertigo messages your brain sends to you, even though you know darned well you’re standing on carpet in a safe room speaks for the technology itself.
We talked about the camera at our front door and how easily and quickly it reports video to our phones when someone is at the door—so quickly, you can call to your child to tell them which friend is there so they can run to greet them.
Then, we played with some gallium, an element that is a liquid metal at eighty degrees and a solid at room temperature. It’s non-toxic unlike mercury and it melts in your hand. We didn’t quite know what to do with it other than watch it change states, but it was fun to see a metal behave in such an uncommon manner.
I think all adults like toys just as much as kids do.
The Big Boy Update: My son has a new favorite cereal—it’s called, “five cereals at once”. One day a while back he told me he wanted “every cereal mixed up” and after deciding five was enough for one bowl I told him he had five different kinds. He’s decided he likes cereal mixed now and has been requesting it frequently for breakfast. He doesn’t pick the cereals so we get to put in the ones we prefer for him while adding some that look more interesting to his pallet on top. Everyone wins.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter wanted to talk to Brek, who was visiting for dinner tonight. She couldn’t remember her name and didn’t know where to find her so she came over and whispered to me, “where’s that lady who’s in our house that doesn’t live here?”
Tonight we had some good friends over for dinner. My husband made Indian butter chicken from a new recipe he found. I had two-and-a-half bowls it was so delicious. Then, we got into toys. We talked about the latest things we’d been reading about, seen or had bought. My husband took them downstairs to show them the Oculus Rift virtual reality headset and software he’d recently gotten. This is a very, very impressively cool toy. Everyone who’s seen it has been more than impressed with the realism and the feeling of being in the scene, even though some of the scenes are cartoon graphics. The fight or flight and vertigo messages your brain sends to you, even though you know darned well you’re standing on carpet in a safe room speaks for the technology itself.
We talked about the camera at our front door and how easily and quickly it reports video to our phones when someone is at the door—so quickly, you can call to your child to tell them which friend is there so they can run to greet them.
Then, we played with some gallium, an element that is a liquid metal at eighty degrees and a solid at room temperature. It’s non-toxic unlike mercury and it melts in your hand. We didn’t quite know what to do with it other than watch it change states, but it was fun to see a metal behave in such an uncommon manner.
I think all adults like toys just as much as kids do.
The Big Boy Update: My son has a new favorite cereal—it’s called, “five cereals at once”. One day a while back he told me he wanted “every cereal mixed up” and after deciding five was enough for one bowl I told him he had five different kinds. He’s decided he likes cereal mixed now and has been requesting it frequently for breakfast. He doesn’t pick the cereals so we get to put in the ones we prefer for him while adding some that look more interesting to his pallet on top. Everyone wins.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter wanted to talk to Brek, who was visiting for dinner tonight. She couldn’t remember her name and didn’t know where to find her so she came over and whispered to me, “where’s that lady who’s in our house that doesn’t live here?”
Tuesday, May 24, 2016
The Bathroom HB2 Discussion
I was eating dinner with my four-year-old and five-year-old tonight at a restaurant while my husband was out at a work dinner. I could tell from the way my son was grabbing his crotch and my daughter was sitting crooked that they both needed to go to the bathroom. They both, of course, were adamant they didn’t need to go. That’s all right, I told them, if you do need to go, you know where the restrooms are.
We’d been to this restaurant many times and I had full confidence they could make it there and back without help—even my visually impaired child. I had low confidence in them washing their hands after they went, but that’s why I carry hand sanitizer with me.
I told them a few minutes later after additional body language tells how I would be glad to go with either or both of them, should they decide, on the off chance, they did in fact need to go to the bathroom. This second comment sparked and entire conversation between my children about who could go into which bathroom.
There were questions about how it was okay for my son to go into the bathroom with me and my daughter to go in with my husband, but mom, could you explain how old we can be and still do that? There wanted to know about boys and girls going into the other bathroom and which bathrooms dad and I could or couldn’t go into.
I explained things to them in a way they would understand and it all made sense to them. I didn’t get into the North Carolina HB2 debate (uproar?) but it was certainly going through my mind as I talked to my children about how we should each go to the bathroom that makes the most sense.
The Big Boy Update: My son was in a foul mood before dinner, which I guessed was mostly due to hunger. As he was finishing his meal tonight at Sweet Tomatoes his mood had completely changed as he looked up from his bowl and thoughtfully said, “I enjoy eating here.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: On the way home from dinner a song came on that none of us had heard before. My daughter announced she knew who sang the song. My son asked who it was and she replied, “his name is ‘Digger.’” My son asked how she knew that to which she replied, “because I can read.”
We’d been to this restaurant many times and I had full confidence they could make it there and back without help—even my visually impaired child. I had low confidence in them washing their hands after they went, but that’s why I carry hand sanitizer with me.
I told them a few minutes later after additional body language tells how I would be glad to go with either or both of them, should they decide, on the off chance, they did in fact need to go to the bathroom. This second comment sparked and entire conversation between my children about who could go into which bathroom.
There were questions about how it was okay for my son to go into the bathroom with me and my daughter to go in with my husband, but mom, could you explain how old we can be and still do that? There wanted to know about boys and girls going into the other bathroom and which bathrooms dad and I could or couldn’t go into.
I explained things to them in a way they would understand and it all made sense to them. I didn’t get into the North Carolina HB2 debate (uproar?) but it was certainly going through my mind as I talked to my children about how we should each go to the bathroom that makes the most sense.
The Big Boy Update: My son was in a foul mood before dinner, which I guessed was mostly due to hunger. As he was finishing his meal tonight at Sweet Tomatoes his mood had completely changed as he looked up from his bowl and thoughtfully said, “I enjoy eating here.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: On the way home from dinner a song came on that none of us had heard before. My daughter announced she knew who sang the song. My son asked who it was and she replied, “his name is ‘Digger.’” My son asked how she knew that to which she replied, “because I can read.”
Monday, May 23, 2016
The Ever Branching Story
People like to tell stories. Or at least people who like to talk and share things do. I like to talk and share things and I do like to tell a good story. My story telling has evolved over the years, hopefully for the better. When I was younger, my stories could take far, far to long to finish. On recent reflection I realize several things have changed over my story telling years.
The first thing I didn’t do well was with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the absolute truth. Explaining exactly which toe on which foot was stubbed and on which tile in the bathroom and the specifics of the lighting at the time just doesn’t make for an interesting tale. I didn’t do well at differentiating between unimportant (read “uninteresting”) details and those that made the overall story interesting. Today, I like to make a good story march and like nothing more than a quick summary of the situation so I can get to the funny, interesting, painful or important part.
Secondly, I had a branching problem. I mentioned I like to tell stories, but back “in the day” I would sidetrack on branch stories dragging out the main story to unreasonable (and boring) lengths. I was told I always circled back to the originating story, but that didn’t make it more enjoyable to the listener.
Third, I liked to tell the exact story as it truly happened. In good story telling, you don’t have to tell things exactly the way they happened. That’s not the same thing as lying, it’s just emphasizing the good parts and not worrying too much about the accuracy of the details. Were I in court testifying, it would be different but for the purposes of conveying something interesting enough to take up someone’s time expecting them to listen, sometimes being one-hundred percent accurate can lead to a less interesting story. Not exaggeration, I dislike exaggeration for the sake of making a boring story interesting, more leaving out the boring parts.
With my daughter’s eyes, I’ve found I can do a pretty succinct elevator speech when necessary. I can tell an update fairly quickly to friends who haven’t heard the latest and I can start from the beginning and get to now with reasonable word count to someone who hasn’t heard.
It’s more about economy of story telling with an emphasis on making things compelling and interesting to me. For those of you who’ve known me for a long time, hopefully I’m getting better as a story teller as I grow older.
The Big Boy Update: We decided to help my son focus on things other than weapons and fighting today. That makes it sound like he has an issue, but his therapist said that no, he needs that physical outlet and as long as he’s doing so in a safe way that his peers are okay with, we need to give him that opportunity. We’re working on other things to help him on the focusing side as well such as putting a puzzle together with his father tonight.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My son found my daughter’s balloon from the other day behind something in the bathroom. When he gave it to her she was initially sad because it wasn’t floating anymore. We explained how helium balloons only floated for a short while. A few minutes later she was holding the end of the string with the balloon dangling below and said, “hey daddy, it’s flying upside down!”
The first thing I didn’t do well was with the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the absolute truth. Explaining exactly which toe on which foot was stubbed and on which tile in the bathroom and the specifics of the lighting at the time just doesn’t make for an interesting tale. I didn’t do well at differentiating between unimportant (read “uninteresting”) details and those that made the overall story interesting. Today, I like to make a good story march and like nothing more than a quick summary of the situation so I can get to the funny, interesting, painful or important part.
Secondly, I had a branching problem. I mentioned I like to tell stories, but back “in the day” I would sidetrack on branch stories dragging out the main story to unreasonable (and boring) lengths. I was told I always circled back to the originating story, but that didn’t make it more enjoyable to the listener.
Third, I liked to tell the exact story as it truly happened. In good story telling, you don’t have to tell things exactly the way they happened. That’s not the same thing as lying, it’s just emphasizing the good parts and not worrying too much about the accuracy of the details. Were I in court testifying, it would be different but for the purposes of conveying something interesting enough to take up someone’s time expecting them to listen, sometimes being one-hundred percent accurate can lead to a less interesting story. Not exaggeration, I dislike exaggeration for the sake of making a boring story interesting, more leaving out the boring parts.
With my daughter’s eyes, I’ve found I can do a pretty succinct elevator speech when necessary. I can tell an update fairly quickly to friends who haven’t heard the latest and I can start from the beginning and get to now with reasonable word count to someone who hasn’t heard.
It’s more about economy of story telling with an emphasis on making things compelling and interesting to me. For those of you who’ve known me for a long time, hopefully I’m getting better as a story teller as I grow older.
The Big Boy Update: We decided to help my son focus on things other than weapons and fighting today. That makes it sound like he has an issue, but his therapist said that no, he needs that physical outlet and as long as he’s doing so in a safe way that his peers are okay with, we need to give him that opportunity. We’re working on other things to help him on the focusing side as well such as putting a puzzle together with his father tonight.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My son found my daughter’s balloon from the other day behind something in the bathroom. When he gave it to her she was initially sad because it wasn’t floating anymore. We explained how helium balloons only floated for a short while. A few minutes later she was holding the end of the string with the balloon dangling below and said, “hey daddy, it’s flying upside down!”
Sunday, May 22, 2016
Rolling the Mats
My children have done something at school since they were first starting to walk. They think everyone does this and it’s just a part of daily life—they roll their mats. Mats in their school world mean multiple things. It represents your work area on the floor, your place at snack or a meal or a space within which to do work.
If a child wants to do a particular activity (“work”) at school they select a mat from a bin (they’re all the same) and then they roll it out onto an open area of the floor. These mats are place mats in cream or other base colors and aren’t meant to do more than mark off an area of space. The size of the place mat is reasonable for the work the child will be doing. The space marked by the mat lets other children know the boundaries of the work so they can respect others work area around them.
When the children eat a meal they get a rolled up place mat and place it on their table area. When they’re done doing any work or eating, they roll up the mat and place it back in the bin of rolled mats. For larger work or work for multiple children, there are larger mats that can be used.
So my daughter, in her fourth year of school now, has a lot of experience rolling mats. Tonight when we were drying her hair she looked at my small container of white cloths on the bathroom counter and told me, “mom, these need to be rolled.” She rolled them all for me, stood them up into the container and let me know that her way was better now.
The Big Boy Update: My son likes swords and anything he can swing around. Is it a boy thing or influence from media? I swear, he was able to turn a stick into a weapon three years ago before he had any idea about ninjas or power rangers. His neighbor friends that are boys seem to feel the same way about “weapons”. I am monitoring the situation as a parent though…
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: We went to a movie today and my daughter watched some of it but wasn’t interested in watching a lot of the movie. I had to take her out when we got close to the end. She did know there were birds and seemed to pay attention for a while. Was it an inability to see or is it attention span and interest level? It’s too easy to say it’s visual issues, we’re not completely sure what’s all in play though.
If a child wants to do a particular activity (“work”) at school they select a mat from a bin (they’re all the same) and then they roll it out onto an open area of the floor. These mats are place mats in cream or other base colors and aren’t meant to do more than mark off an area of space. The size of the place mat is reasonable for the work the child will be doing. The space marked by the mat lets other children know the boundaries of the work so they can respect others work area around them.
When the children eat a meal they get a rolled up place mat and place it on their table area. When they’re done doing any work or eating, they roll up the mat and place it back in the bin of rolled mats. For larger work or work for multiple children, there are larger mats that can be used.
So my daughter, in her fourth year of school now, has a lot of experience rolling mats. Tonight when we were drying her hair she looked at my small container of white cloths on the bathroom counter and told me, “mom, these need to be rolled.” She rolled them all for me, stood them up into the container and let me know that her way was better now.
The Big Boy Update: My son likes swords and anything he can swing around. Is it a boy thing or influence from media? I swear, he was able to turn a stick into a weapon three years ago before he had any idea about ninjas or power rangers. His neighbor friends that are boys seem to feel the same way about “weapons”. I am monitoring the situation as a parent though…
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: We went to a movie today and my daughter watched some of it but wasn’t interested in watching a lot of the movie. I had to take her out when we got close to the end. She did know there were birds and seemed to pay attention for a while. Was it an inability to see or is it attention span and interest level? It’s too easy to say it’s visual issues, we’re not completely sure what’s all in play though.
Saturday, May 21, 2016
Passed
I’m in the car on the way home from participating in the Pinehurst Triathlon. I passed, I finished, I made it. I had a good time too. Let me start of by saying we had it made as far as pre-race accommodations, during race support and post-race amenities. This is all because of my in-laws.
They live on the Pinehurst lake and we were quite close to the race start. We arrived last night to be greeted by a pasta feast made by my mother-in-law. I had two-and-a-half plates, some ice cream and two of the cookies she made. It was a great pre-race meal.
This morning my husband dropped us off early so we could set up our bikes and all related gear for our transitions from swim to bike to run. We got our ankle timing tags and then and the headed to the sandy beachhead area of the lake to start the race.
Due to lake temperatures the swim was wetsuit legal. Folks, I’ve swam in the lake before and being able to wear a wet suit made a huge difference. It gives you buoyancy so all you need to do is focus on moving forward in the right direction. The lake conditions were calm, making it an enjoyable swim for me.
My in-laws, husband and children were in their boat on the lake cheering me on when I passed the second leg marker. I got back after being passed by people in my wave as well as people in the two waves after me. I was passed a lot in the water. I had thought I was a slow swimmer and now it’s confirmed, based on how many times I was passed.
Exiting the water I went to my bike, removed the wet suit, put on my biking shoes, helmet, gloves and other things to start the thirty mile bike segment. As I made the second turn on my bike away from the lake I realized I had forgotten both my phone and watch. They were my tool to see how for I had gone, what my biking pace was, etc. Oh well, I’ll get them when I get back for the run portion.
But the lack of phone and watch was interesting: there were no distance markers and only one water station the entire thirty mile run. I had no idea or sense of how far I’d biked. There were a lot of tall hills on the second half of the race and yet again, I was passed by many people.
I had two people comment on my bike, which is new and I love. One was a sheriff directing traffic at an intersection. He told me my seat had dropped down. He was right, I wasn’t able to fully straighten my legs when I was pedaling. I stopped and adjusted the seat and had an easier time of things afterwards. The other person said, “props to you for doing this on that bike.” I could tell he meant it as a compliment. I had noticed the wheels on my bike were quite wide in comparison the the “road bikes” passing me with very thin wheels.
I talked to Matt after the race and he said I was at a significant disadvantage with my bike for both speed and energy needed to move it forward. I didn’t mind the bike, in fact I like my new bike, but it was obvious from watching the people pass me again and again that my bike wasn’t like theirs and I wasn’t able to match their speeds, even on my fastest gears. I didn’t mind though, I wasn’t trying to beat any time or person, I just wanted to finish.
When I got back from the bike section I was greeted by my husband, daughter and Matt, who didn’t do the run section because of and injury. I changed shoes, got my watch and phone this time and started the run portion. I wasn’t overly tired at this point but it turned out my calves were very, very tired and unhappy about the motion change from biking to running.
It wasn’t a problem though because by now I had my own personal support crew with my husband, Matt and my daughter following my crawling slow run pace in the golf cart. They handed me water, brought me a banana, and my daughter ran along with me several times. There was a seventy-seven year old lady in front of me (yes, I was going that slow) that asked for some food as well and my guys headed off to get her something.
My calves got over the cramping with lots of water and some nutrients in my and the run turned into just a run after doing a lot of other exercise. I was tired so I sang songs from Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music because I needed to get my mind off the distance and time left to go.
About a mile from the end I passed my in-laws house where my husband, children, the dog and Matt were out, cheering me on. As I ran on to the finish line my husband and mother-in-law passed me in the golf cart so I could get a ride home afterwards.
The title of this post is “Passed” because I was passed again and again. I think from what the support truck said that drove by towards the end that I was the fifth to the last person in the entire race to cross the finish line.
I told you I was slow. But I don’t care about being last or near last—I had a great time. Thanks to my in-laws for all their support this weekend.
The Big Boy Update: My son put cars and toys in Nana’s little man made stream. He is very good with creative play in situations like this. I hear he lost one car to the lake the stream flows into.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter came to see me at the race today and decided to do some of the run portion with me—in her flip flops. She ran a good distance several times and then rode home in the golf cart to wait and cheer me on as I passed the house before the finish line.
Fitness Update: I did my first olympic distance triathlon in Pinehurst today. I’m not sure I’ll do another one, but I enjoyed this one.
They live on the Pinehurst lake and we were quite close to the race start. We arrived last night to be greeted by a pasta feast made by my mother-in-law. I had two-and-a-half plates, some ice cream and two of the cookies she made. It was a great pre-race meal.
This morning my husband dropped us off early so we could set up our bikes and all related gear for our transitions from swim to bike to run. We got our ankle timing tags and then and the headed to the sandy beachhead area of the lake to start the race.
Due to lake temperatures the swim was wetsuit legal. Folks, I’ve swam in the lake before and being able to wear a wet suit made a huge difference. It gives you buoyancy so all you need to do is focus on moving forward in the right direction. The lake conditions were calm, making it an enjoyable swim for me.
My in-laws, husband and children were in their boat on the lake cheering me on when I passed the second leg marker. I got back after being passed by people in my wave as well as people in the two waves after me. I was passed a lot in the water. I had thought I was a slow swimmer and now it’s confirmed, based on how many times I was passed.
Exiting the water I went to my bike, removed the wet suit, put on my biking shoes, helmet, gloves and other things to start the thirty mile bike segment. As I made the second turn on my bike away from the lake I realized I had forgotten both my phone and watch. They were my tool to see how for I had gone, what my biking pace was, etc. Oh well, I’ll get them when I get back for the run portion.
But the lack of phone and watch was interesting: there were no distance markers and only one water station the entire thirty mile run. I had no idea or sense of how far I’d biked. There were a lot of tall hills on the second half of the race and yet again, I was passed by many people.
I had two people comment on my bike, which is new and I love. One was a sheriff directing traffic at an intersection. He told me my seat had dropped down. He was right, I wasn’t able to fully straighten my legs when I was pedaling. I stopped and adjusted the seat and had an easier time of things afterwards. The other person said, “props to you for doing this on that bike.” I could tell he meant it as a compliment. I had noticed the wheels on my bike were quite wide in comparison the the “road bikes” passing me with very thin wheels.
I talked to Matt after the race and he said I was at a significant disadvantage with my bike for both speed and energy needed to move it forward. I didn’t mind the bike, in fact I like my new bike, but it was obvious from watching the people pass me again and again that my bike wasn’t like theirs and I wasn’t able to match their speeds, even on my fastest gears. I didn’t mind though, I wasn’t trying to beat any time or person, I just wanted to finish.
When I got back from the bike section I was greeted by my husband, daughter and Matt, who didn’t do the run section because of and injury. I changed shoes, got my watch and phone this time and started the run portion. I wasn’t overly tired at this point but it turned out my calves were very, very tired and unhappy about the motion change from biking to running.
It wasn’t a problem though because by now I had my own personal support crew with my husband, Matt and my daughter following my crawling slow run pace in the golf cart. They handed me water, brought me a banana, and my daughter ran along with me several times. There was a seventy-seven year old lady in front of me (yes, I was going that slow) that asked for some food as well and my guys headed off to get her something.
My calves got over the cramping with lots of water and some nutrients in my and the run turned into just a run after doing a lot of other exercise. I was tired so I sang songs from Mary Poppins and The Sound of Music because I needed to get my mind off the distance and time left to go.
About a mile from the end I passed my in-laws house where my husband, children, the dog and Matt were out, cheering me on. As I ran on to the finish line my husband and mother-in-law passed me in the golf cart so I could get a ride home afterwards.
The title of this post is “Passed” because I was passed again and again. I think from what the support truck said that drove by towards the end that I was the fifth to the last person in the entire race to cross the finish line.
I told you I was slow. But I don’t care about being last or near last—I had a great time. Thanks to my in-laws for all their support this weekend.
The Big Boy Update: My son put cars and toys in Nana’s little man made stream. He is very good with creative play in situations like this. I hear he lost one car to the lake the stream flows into.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter came to see me at the race today and decided to do some of the run portion with me—in her flip flops. She ran a good distance several times and then rode home in the golf cart to wait and cheer me on as I passed the house before the finish line.
Fitness Update: I did my first olympic distance triathlon in Pinehurst today. I’m not sure I’ll do another one, but I enjoyed this one.
Friday, May 20, 2016
Triathlon Travels
We’re departing shortly to drive to Pinehurst, NC, where my in-laws live. There is a triathlon there tomorrow that features the water portion of the race on the lake where they live. They’ll be out on the lake tomorrow in their boat waving the swimmers along as we do a three-legged out, over, back in swim around part of the lake.
After 1500 meters swimming, we’ll depart on our bikes for a fifty kilometer ride around the town. I haven’t looked at the course much (I rarely do) because there are always plenty of people in front of me which makes following easy.
We return to the marina area of the lake at the end of the bike ride, change shoes into running shoes and do a ten kilometer run. We’re suppose to do all this in four hours or less. I’ve mentioned before that I’m a completer, not a racer. I’m going to need the entire four hours, especially with the prediction of rain most of the morning.
My mother-in-law is preparing a pasta meal for us upon our arrival. I’m looking forward to doing the race with my best friend’s husband whom my son calls “G Money” even though his name is Matt.
The Big Boy Update: In the car yesterday morning my son said, “I want to learn how to surf on a surfboard. And then I want to learn to rid on a skate board. And then I want to ride on dad’s motorcycle…I’m going to be in a triathlon.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter had a packed schedule for a four-year-old yesterday. She had a full day of school including a visit from Raffaella, her Vision Impairment teacher. She went from school immediately to the science museum and had an Orientation and Mobility lesson with Jane. She and dad came home, she ate pizza quickly and then her music therapist arrived for a late evening lesson we had to squeeze in before Chelsea went on her honeymoon for two weeks. She was tired, but she made it through the whole day and still didn’t want to go to bed at bed time—imagine that.
After 1500 meters swimming, we’ll depart on our bikes for a fifty kilometer ride around the town. I haven’t looked at the course much (I rarely do) because there are always plenty of people in front of me which makes following easy.
We return to the marina area of the lake at the end of the bike ride, change shoes into running shoes and do a ten kilometer run. We’re suppose to do all this in four hours or less. I’ve mentioned before that I’m a completer, not a racer. I’m going to need the entire four hours, especially with the prediction of rain most of the morning.
My mother-in-law is preparing a pasta meal for us upon our arrival. I’m looking forward to doing the race with my best friend’s husband whom my son calls “G Money” even though his name is Matt.
The Big Boy Update: In the car yesterday morning my son said, “I want to learn how to surf on a surfboard. And then I want to learn to rid on a skate board. And then I want to ride on dad’s motorcycle…I’m going to be in a triathlon.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter had a packed schedule for a four-year-old yesterday. She had a full day of school including a visit from Raffaella, her Vision Impairment teacher. She went from school immediately to the science museum and had an Orientation and Mobility lesson with Jane. She and dad came home, she ate pizza quickly and then her music therapist arrived for a late evening lesson we had to squeeze in before Chelsea went on her honeymoon for two weeks. She was tired, but she made it through the whole day and still didn’t want to go to bed at bed time—imagine that.
Thursday, May 19, 2016
Where’s My Phone?
Do you ever wonder if you left your phone? You get in your car, drive away, get about three blocks down the road—enough distance to not really want to turn around—and think, “did I forget my phone?” In my mind this question is followed up with the following questions, “do I really need it? I can’t manage without it…wait, could I just text on my iPad instead?” These questions are, of course, silly because I’m only about two-and-a-half minutes away from the house, adding a full five minutes delay in my overall trip if I were to turn around right then to grab the phone.
While I ponder the need to time ratio of turning back to get the phone, other thoughts go through my head, “where did I leave it? Did I take it off the cradle this morning or has it been there all along? When was the last time I used it?” About this time I decide to look for the phone in the usual locations. These, in order of popularity include: my side pants pocket, the outside pocket of my purse, in my bra.
Yeah, I know, that’s not cool, right? You shouldn’t be storing your phone in your boobs, seriously, haven’t you heard that’s going to kill you? Only by pretty much everyone who thinks that just because it’s in your boobs, you’re destined to get cancer and die, but in your pocket your leg muscles shield you from dangerous rays. Anyway, I’m on a soapbox about irrational panic based on a ranking of body parts and their vulnerability.
Good grief, that was a serious tangent and one I apparently have strong feelings about. Let’s get back to the point, which was where was my phone and did I leave it at home. It’s about this time —real elapsed time 1.2 seconds later—that I realize I have only one thing I need to do and the searching will be over. It’s the one thing I should have done the instant I had the question about the location of my phone—I should look at my watch.
The watch knows if it’s near the phone—which is it’s tether to the Internet and other communication and functions. If it can’t find the phone in Bluetooth proximity you get a little symbol letting you know, prominently on the face of the watch. It’s okay, it just isn’t operating at it’s full, informational potential.
It’s been a year with my Apple Watch and I still haven’t remembered yet to look at the watch first before doing a mental and physical search for the phone. Maybe next year I’ll have retrained myself.
The Big Boy Update: My son was talking about something with his sister. She made some comment (which I didn’t hear) to which my son responded with a heavy sigh, “Reese, you just don’t understand about life.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: This morning in the car my daughter and son were asking for songs. It was my daughter’s turn to pick next and she told me she wanted the cannonball song. I asked her to tell me about the song and she said, “ugh, you don’t even know. Sigh.” My son jumped in at this point and calmly said, “she means Wrecking Ball.” Oh, Miley Cyrus’s Wrecking Ball…okay, coming up next, I told her.
While I ponder the need to time ratio of turning back to get the phone, other thoughts go through my head, “where did I leave it? Did I take it off the cradle this morning or has it been there all along? When was the last time I used it?” About this time I decide to look for the phone in the usual locations. These, in order of popularity include: my side pants pocket, the outside pocket of my purse, in my bra.
Yeah, I know, that’s not cool, right? You shouldn’t be storing your phone in your boobs, seriously, haven’t you heard that’s going to kill you? Only by pretty much everyone who thinks that just because it’s in your boobs, you’re destined to get cancer and die, but in your pocket your leg muscles shield you from dangerous rays. Anyway, I’m on a soapbox about irrational panic based on a ranking of body parts and their vulnerability.
Good grief, that was a serious tangent and one I apparently have strong feelings about. Let’s get back to the point, which was where was my phone and did I leave it at home. It’s about this time —real elapsed time 1.2 seconds later—that I realize I have only one thing I need to do and the searching will be over. It’s the one thing I should have done the instant I had the question about the location of my phone—I should look at my watch.
The watch knows if it’s near the phone—which is it’s tether to the Internet and other communication and functions. If it can’t find the phone in Bluetooth proximity you get a little symbol letting you know, prominently on the face of the watch. It’s okay, it just isn’t operating at it’s full, informational potential.
It’s been a year with my Apple Watch and I still haven’t remembered yet to look at the watch first before doing a mental and physical search for the phone. Maybe next year I’ll have retrained myself.
The Big Boy Update: My son was talking about something with his sister. She made some comment (which I didn’t hear) to which my son responded with a heavy sigh, “Reese, you just don’t understand about life.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: This morning in the car my daughter and son were asking for songs. It was my daughter’s turn to pick next and she told me she wanted the cannonball song. I asked her to tell me about the song and she said, “ugh, you don’t even know. Sigh.” My son jumped in at this point and calmly said, “she means Wrecking Ball.” Oh, Miley Cyrus’s Wrecking Ball…okay, coming up next, I told her.
Wednesday, May 18, 2016
Beauty Parlor Pink Medicine
My daughter has an antibiotic she’s been taking for several weeks now. This is the one her dermatologist decided to go with for twenty-eight days to see how it would affect the lumps on her bottom. So far, so good—there are no new bumps and the existing ones have diminished in size or possibly disappeared. I say possibly on that last part because getting my daughter to sit still to mark and count the bumps was an exercise we decided to avoid, given everything she’s having to deal with, medically speaking.
Back to the medicine though, which is a pink liquid that needs to be taken twice a day. In the past, these medicines delivered in the form of pink liquids have been met with cries of, “it’s yucky!” I would smell them and would get the scent of cherries or strawberry or even watermelon one time I think. They smelled fine, but regardless of smell, taste or mental stance against it, she wasn’t always eager to take her medicine.
This stuff, however, she loves. My husband got it originally and I don’t know if he had a choice in flavor or if it just came as is, but I want to find out and then request it for future medications. I thought I’d be able to tell what scent/flavor it was by smelling it like I had the other medicines. When I smelled this one though I got an entirely different scent than I expected. Yes, there was something fruity there, but it was nonspecific and I couldn’t place it. What I did get was an overwhelming sense of the beauty parlors my mother had her hair done in when I was a child.
Strange, no? Medicine for a child that tastes like the chemical smell at a beauty parlor from forty years ago? You would think that wouldn’t be a particularly popular flavor. I thought something was amiss, but the next day I got the same reminiscent smell from my childhood with visions of ladies in rollers with their heads under the dryers looking at magazines.
I don’t know what the chemical, mineral or compound connection is, but through the powers of our amazing nose and brain, my mind is remembering something out of time through the medium of smell.
The Big Boy Update: My son and daughter weren’t agreeing on something this morning—I forget what about. My son was trying not to get in trouble by saying something mean, but he did need to express how he felt so he settled on this sentence: “I don’t like my sister ‘cause she’s solid.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter started screaming, “HELP!” this evening from the swing set in the back yard. I looked out and saw she had managed to get herself stuck in the middle of one of the trapeze rings. They’re adult-sized rings I adapted to fit where a swing would go. She’s a small little girl, but I didn’t think she could get her head, shoulders and torso through the ring. On second thought, it could have been feet, legs and hips—that makes more sense. Regardless of how, she was stuck and her jacket was preventing her from getting out as it bunched up. I ran down to her cries of, “get me out of here!” and easily pulled her upwards. She was quite cross…for about thirty seconds…and then went back to playing.
The Tumbler Update: We opened the tumbler today to see how it was going. Folks, it looked good! The rocks were smoothing out and we could even see some nice striations and colors in a few of them. We put the lid back on and restarted it. On Sunday tumble phase one is complete. I am kicking myself for not taking a pre-tumble picture of our craggy lot of rocks.
Back to the medicine though, which is a pink liquid that needs to be taken twice a day. In the past, these medicines delivered in the form of pink liquids have been met with cries of, “it’s yucky!” I would smell them and would get the scent of cherries or strawberry or even watermelon one time I think. They smelled fine, but regardless of smell, taste or mental stance against it, she wasn’t always eager to take her medicine.
This stuff, however, she loves. My husband got it originally and I don’t know if he had a choice in flavor or if it just came as is, but I want to find out and then request it for future medications. I thought I’d be able to tell what scent/flavor it was by smelling it like I had the other medicines. When I smelled this one though I got an entirely different scent than I expected. Yes, there was something fruity there, but it was nonspecific and I couldn’t place it. What I did get was an overwhelming sense of the beauty parlors my mother had her hair done in when I was a child.
Strange, no? Medicine for a child that tastes like the chemical smell at a beauty parlor from forty years ago? You would think that wouldn’t be a particularly popular flavor. I thought something was amiss, but the next day I got the same reminiscent smell from my childhood with visions of ladies in rollers with their heads under the dryers looking at magazines.
I don’t know what the chemical, mineral or compound connection is, but through the powers of our amazing nose and brain, my mind is remembering something out of time through the medium of smell.
The Big Boy Update: My son and daughter weren’t agreeing on something this morning—I forget what about. My son was trying not to get in trouble by saying something mean, but he did need to express how he felt so he settled on this sentence: “I don’t like my sister ‘cause she’s solid.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter started screaming, “HELP!” this evening from the swing set in the back yard. I looked out and saw she had managed to get herself stuck in the middle of one of the trapeze rings. They’re adult-sized rings I adapted to fit where a swing would go. She’s a small little girl, but I didn’t think she could get her head, shoulders and torso through the ring. On second thought, it could have been feet, legs and hips—that makes more sense. Regardless of how, she was stuck and her jacket was preventing her from getting out as it bunched up. I ran down to her cries of, “get me out of here!” and easily pulled her upwards. She was quite cross…for about thirty seconds…and then went back to playing.
The Tumbler Update: We opened the tumbler today to see how it was going. Folks, it looked good! The rocks were smoothing out and we could even see some nice striations and colors in a few of them. We put the lid back on and restarted it. On Sunday tumble phase one is complete. I am kicking myself for not taking a pre-tumble picture of our craggy lot of rocks.
Tuesday, May 17, 2016
Friday the Thirteenth
How is it that Friday the thirteenth’s keep sneaking up on me? It’s got some sort of stealth calendar moves going on because invariably on the night before, or even the day of I’ll make a connection that it’s both a Friday and the thirteenth of the month. This discovery is typically followed by some comment I make out loud, even if no one is in hearing range on the subject.
I don’t like or dislike Friday the thirteenth. If it weren’t for there being a cultural emphasis on that particular day it could be Wednesday the twenty-seventh or Saturday the nineteenth and it would happen every so often and we’d notice it and think, “would you look at that, I didn’t know we had a Monday the thirtieth this month.”
I know why I never know about it in advance. When I look at my calendar, I’m looking for one thing—the thing I opened up the calendar to find. It’s a lot like going to the grocery store to buy Tabasco sauce, looking all over until you find it on the aisle and then a friend asking you if they had the special barbecue sauce that day. Heck, I wouldn’t know because I was focused in on the Tabasco sauce and all else in my field of vision was categorized in my brain as, “not Tabasco sauce”.
Anyway, it was a nice Friday the thirteenth last week. I look forward to being surprised the next time Friday the thirteenth rolls around.
The Big Boy Update: Did I mention the eggs? I can’t remember so if I wrote about this yesterday, I’ll try to make it more interesting today. My son was initially allergic to egg whites. The bad, hive-type allergic followed by eczema outbreaks three-days after ingesting the eggs. Then he wasn’t allergic to them anymore, thanks to a more-developed immune system. And then my son decided he loved scrambled eggs. Just loved them. Ate six one day I think. Now? He hates them. Doesn’t want anything to do with them. I’m thinking this is a phase, he does this with lots of foods.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter fell, cutting her lip with her teeth last week. Her lip is doing its best to heal in a decidedly difficult area. Tonight she had a hard time with dinner because it was stinging (vinegar salad dressing) or too hot (butter chicken Indian dad made) or yucky (non-specified reason). She ate leftover Mexican from the night before while my husband and I ate the remainder of the Indian, glad to have an additional share.
Rock Tumbler Tales: I’m directly below the porch in the basement and I can vaguely hear the rock tumbler working. It’s very quiet upstairs, with the only way I know it’s still working is if I look out the window beside it. Two days down. Will we have only mud when we open it up to check in a few days? Did we select real rocks or did we add in blobs of well-packed mud? I’ll let you know soon. Keep your expectations low, I know mine are.
I don’t like or dislike Friday the thirteenth. If it weren’t for there being a cultural emphasis on that particular day it could be Wednesday the twenty-seventh or Saturday the nineteenth and it would happen every so often and we’d notice it and think, “would you look at that, I didn’t know we had a Monday the thirtieth this month.”
I know why I never know about it in advance. When I look at my calendar, I’m looking for one thing—the thing I opened up the calendar to find. It’s a lot like going to the grocery store to buy Tabasco sauce, looking all over until you find it on the aisle and then a friend asking you if they had the special barbecue sauce that day. Heck, I wouldn’t know because I was focused in on the Tabasco sauce and all else in my field of vision was categorized in my brain as, “not Tabasco sauce”.
Anyway, it was a nice Friday the thirteenth last week. I look forward to being surprised the next time Friday the thirteenth rolls around.
The Big Boy Update: Did I mention the eggs? I can’t remember so if I wrote about this yesterday, I’ll try to make it more interesting today. My son was initially allergic to egg whites. The bad, hive-type allergic followed by eczema outbreaks three-days after ingesting the eggs. Then he wasn’t allergic to them anymore, thanks to a more-developed immune system. And then my son decided he loved scrambled eggs. Just loved them. Ate six one day I think. Now? He hates them. Doesn’t want anything to do with them. I’m thinking this is a phase, he does this with lots of foods.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter fell, cutting her lip with her teeth last week. Her lip is doing its best to heal in a decidedly difficult area. Tonight she had a hard time with dinner because it was stinging (vinegar salad dressing) or too hot (butter chicken Indian dad made) or yucky (non-specified reason). She ate leftover Mexican from the night before while my husband and I ate the remainder of the Indian, glad to have an additional share.
Rock Tumbler Tales: I’m directly below the porch in the basement and I can vaguely hear the rock tumbler working. It’s very quiet upstairs, with the only way I know it’s still working is if I look out the window beside it. Two days down. Will we have only mud when we open it up to check in a few days? Did we select real rocks or did we add in blobs of well-packed mud? I’ll let you know soon. Keep your expectations low, I know mine are.
Monday, May 16, 2016
She’s In a Better Place
This post is about my dog, Lucy, who’s not dead—she’s just in a better place. She’s visiting Nana. Our whole family loves Lucy, but since we’ve had two children she just doesn’t get the attention she used to. It’s not that we don’t want to spend time doing things with her, it’s mostly that children take up huge tracts of time out of your day and what’s left over is mostly of the kind, “mom would just like to sit down for a bit.”
There are conflicts that need help in being resolved, laundry that needs doing, fun projects, dishes, more conflicts that need help in being resolved, injuries that need tending to, responses to, “mommy!” that need answering, baths that need giving and countless other things that make children both a delight and an exhausting venture all at the same time.
At the end of the night I come downstairs to write this blog post and usually the dog follows me. Frequently she pulls off her little bed this old, bedraggled porcupine hand puppet that has always been her favorite toy. You need to put your hand into it, get on the floor and make it come alive for her and she tries to catch it. She’s old and has arthritis so the playing phase doesn’t take that much time to make her happy, but sadly, I don’t play the porcupine game with her as much as my conscience tells me I should.
Insert Nana into the picture and my dog has the life I want her to have. Nana takes her for walks, makes her special treats, pets her through entire television shows, drives her around in her car, takes her to Lowes and basically enriches her life. Here’s a picture from Nana today with the caption, “convertible dog”.
Do we miss our dog? Absolutely. I miss her company. I miss her doing her bow to me when I come home. We (as in my husband and I) also miss her hoover capabilities. I’ve said it before but it bears mentioning again—my children are a crumby mess with food. With the dog around, not a crumb needs to be swept or vacuumed up.
She’ll come home in another week, but I’m in no rush because I know any time Lucy is with Nana, she’s a happy, well-loved dog.
The Big Boy Update: My son didn’t want to hear the book his sister selected the other night at bedtime. He was having none of it. He told me, “fine, I’ll just read my catalog.” And he did. He loves catalogs of toys. He looked at page after page until it was time to turn out the lights. He wanted to take the catalog to bed even.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I was talking to my daughter about clothes and somehow my mother came up. My mom likes to wear a shirt with stars on the front sometimes when she comes over. My children have liked talking to Mimi about her stars for a long time. When I mentioned the star shirt to my daughter she said, “no she doesn’t wear that one anymore, she wears the one with all the colors in the mountains.” My mother had been wearing a shirt just like my daughter described. Some of her vision is truthfully terrible—she regularly can’t fine the utensils in front of her while she’s eating—but if you help her look at something, she does understand what she’s seeing.
Tumbler Update: Twenty-four hours after plugging it in and it’s still rotating. It’s an old machine that hasn’t been run in a long time. Twenty-seven more days to go.
There are conflicts that need help in being resolved, laundry that needs doing, fun projects, dishes, more conflicts that need help in being resolved, injuries that need tending to, responses to, “mommy!” that need answering, baths that need giving and countless other things that make children both a delight and an exhausting venture all at the same time.
At the end of the night I come downstairs to write this blog post and usually the dog follows me. Frequently she pulls off her little bed this old, bedraggled porcupine hand puppet that has always been her favorite toy. You need to put your hand into it, get on the floor and make it come alive for her and she tries to catch it. She’s old and has arthritis so the playing phase doesn’t take that much time to make her happy, but sadly, I don’t play the porcupine game with her as much as my conscience tells me I should.
Insert Nana into the picture and my dog has the life I want her to have. Nana takes her for walks, makes her special treats, pets her through entire television shows, drives her around in her car, takes her to Lowes and basically enriches her life. Here’s a picture from Nana today with the caption, “convertible dog”.
Do we miss our dog? Absolutely. I miss her company. I miss her doing her bow to me when I come home. We (as in my husband and I) also miss her hoover capabilities. I’ve said it before but it bears mentioning again—my children are a crumby mess with food. With the dog around, not a crumb needs to be swept or vacuumed up.
She’ll come home in another week, but I’m in no rush because I know any time Lucy is with Nana, she’s a happy, well-loved dog.
The Big Boy Update: My son didn’t want to hear the book his sister selected the other night at bedtime. He was having none of it. He told me, “fine, I’ll just read my catalog.” And he did. He loves catalogs of toys. He looked at page after page until it was time to turn out the lights. He wanted to take the catalog to bed even.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I was talking to my daughter about clothes and somehow my mother came up. My mom likes to wear a shirt with stars on the front sometimes when she comes over. My children have liked talking to Mimi about her stars for a long time. When I mentioned the star shirt to my daughter she said, “no she doesn’t wear that one anymore, she wears the one with all the colors in the mountains.” My mother had been wearing a shirt just like my daughter described. Some of her vision is truthfully terrible—she regularly can’t fine the utensils in front of her while she’s eating—but if you help her look at something, she does understand what she’s seeing.
Tumbler Update: Twenty-four hours after plugging it in and it’s still rotating. It’s an old machine that hasn’t been run in a long time. Twenty-seven more days to go.
Sunday, May 15, 2016
All The Things I Don’t Know About Rocks
On second thought, that title might be a little too ambitious for a single blog post. Maybe, “Rock Tumbling and My Ignorance—Chapter 1”. Let me explain…
Some years ago I asked my father if he had a rock tumbler I could borrow. I don’t remember what he said at the time, but knowing him it was probably something like, “let me look, I think I have a few.” He did have some and he brought over one I could use for general purpose rock tumbling.
Getting started straight away I put the tumbler in the craft room and then took further steps some months later as I moved it to the attic. There it’s sat, looking at me at the top of the stairs every time I ventured into the attic, silently saying, “you asked for me.”
But today was the day, friends. As I prepared to use the tumbler I found out how very little I knew about rocks and tumbling. In preparation, I had ordered a set of four tumbling grits, from coarse to polishing. With the tumbler in the attic and the four stages of polishing grit all I needed were some enthusiastic children to collect rocks and I was set.
My neighbor’s daughter, Keira, who is nine, was the biggest advocate of the project and the most help. She suggested we collect rocks from the creek below our house and after lunch my two children, my next-door-neighbors and their two children, and Keira headed down the treacherous slope in the far back of our yard heading towards the creek.
The creek was wet, my left rain boot had a large tear in it, the boys wanted to throw sticks and rocks and mostly other things occurred instead of rock collecting for a while. Keira and I stayed on task, collecting what we thought were more than we could fit into the tumbler so we could winnow down the list of candidates when we got back up the hill.
When we got home we discovered we didn’t have enough rocks to fill the tumbler to the needed two-thirds full for maximum tumble performance…so I grabbed some random, non-ideal rocks from the yard itself.
Rocks were washed, cleaned, scrubbed, washed some more and then even some more by Keira who wanted to make sure we didn’t tumble dirty rocks. I prepared the tumbler and re-read the instructions from online.
I need to rewind a bit to this morning because it wasn’t until then that Keira and I looked up how to do this whole tumbling thing. I knew you put rocks and grit in, tumbled for a while, put in a finer grit, tumbled for a while, repeating until the rocks were shiny. This was when we learned all about what we didn’t know.
First of all, each tumbling stage (there are four) takes SEVEN DAYS. Yes, that is correct, you leave the tumbler on for a week, running constantly, and then you see what you have. Three more times you do this which would take the entire month of February on a non-leap year (or any other twenty-eight days). It’s not until the end that you find out if you really like what you selected. I am all about now, instant gratification, not waiting. I’m impatient. This is going to feel like forever.
Secondly, I needed to know the size of the tumbler. I had to put the right amount of grit based on size, but my older tumbler had zero information on it. I made an educated guess based on several factors and added a pinch more for good measure.
The next thing we didn’t know was something termed, “garbage in, garbage out” which described non-ideal rocks for tumbling. Jagged, concave, irregular or soft rocks weren’t going to make pretty tumbled stones. Also, they would make the process more challenging because those stones could damage the others and reduce the effectiveness of the polishing substances. Guess what kinds of stones are available in our creek? If you guessed “garbage rocks” you won seven points.
I’m not sure if we have pretty rocks. Some are very dark, some are definitely white quarts and some are I have no idea at all. There may be a future update on this longer-than-expected project in the near future—unless it’s an embarrassing craft failure. My expectations are low though, knowing these are kids and kids love anything they help make.
The Big Boy Update: My husband and daughter were playing tic-tac-toe at dinner out tonight. My son said, “dad, you’re pretending you’re not that good at the game and letting her win.” About three minutes later he turned to me and said, “mom, can you play tic-tac-toe with me and pretend you’re not very good?” I didn’t need to try though—he decided he got two moves for every one of mine and won with ease.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter is particular about clothes. In one way she has very specific opinions and that’s if the article of clothing is “cold”. This is not what you might think—it’s if she feels it’s cold to the touch. Some of the softest cottons she won’t put on because they’re initially cold to the touch when you pull them out of the drawer. I spent one morning handing her all sorts of warm things to wear and had many items rejected because they were “cold”. This isn’t all the time, it’s only on mornings when she’s cold to begin. Because it’s gotten warmer now the complaints of cold clothes are much less frequent.
Some years ago I asked my father if he had a rock tumbler I could borrow. I don’t remember what he said at the time, but knowing him it was probably something like, “let me look, I think I have a few.” He did have some and he brought over one I could use for general purpose rock tumbling.
Getting started straight away I put the tumbler in the craft room and then took further steps some months later as I moved it to the attic. There it’s sat, looking at me at the top of the stairs every time I ventured into the attic, silently saying, “you asked for me.”
But today was the day, friends. As I prepared to use the tumbler I found out how very little I knew about rocks and tumbling. In preparation, I had ordered a set of four tumbling grits, from coarse to polishing. With the tumbler in the attic and the four stages of polishing grit all I needed were some enthusiastic children to collect rocks and I was set.
My neighbor’s daughter, Keira, who is nine, was the biggest advocate of the project and the most help. She suggested we collect rocks from the creek below our house and after lunch my two children, my next-door-neighbors and their two children, and Keira headed down the treacherous slope in the far back of our yard heading towards the creek.
The creek was wet, my left rain boot had a large tear in it, the boys wanted to throw sticks and rocks and mostly other things occurred instead of rock collecting for a while. Keira and I stayed on task, collecting what we thought were more than we could fit into the tumbler so we could winnow down the list of candidates when we got back up the hill.
When we got home we discovered we didn’t have enough rocks to fill the tumbler to the needed two-thirds full for maximum tumble performance…so I grabbed some random, non-ideal rocks from the yard itself.
Rocks were washed, cleaned, scrubbed, washed some more and then even some more by Keira who wanted to make sure we didn’t tumble dirty rocks. I prepared the tumbler and re-read the instructions from online.
I need to rewind a bit to this morning because it wasn’t until then that Keira and I looked up how to do this whole tumbling thing. I knew you put rocks and grit in, tumbled for a while, put in a finer grit, tumbled for a while, repeating until the rocks were shiny. This was when we learned all about what we didn’t know.
First of all, each tumbling stage (there are four) takes SEVEN DAYS. Yes, that is correct, you leave the tumbler on for a week, running constantly, and then you see what you have. Three more times you do this which would take the entire month of February on a non-leap year (or any other twenty-eight days). It’s not until the end that you find out if you really like what you selected. I am all about now, instant gratification, not waiting. I’m impatient. This is going to feel like forever.
Secondly, I needed to know the size of the tumbler. I had to put the right amount of grit based on size, but my older tumbler had zero information on it. I made an educated guess based on several factors and added a pinch more for good measure.
The next thing we didn’t know was something termed, “garbage in, garbage out” which described non-ideal rocks for tumbling. Jagged, concave, irregular or soft rocks weren’t going to make pretty tumbled stones. Also, they would make the process more challenging because those stones could damage the others and reduce the effectiveness of the polishing substances. Guess what kinds of stones are available in our creek? If you guessed “garbage rocks” you won seven points.
I’m not sure if we have pretty rocks. Some are very dark, some are definitely white quarts and some are I have no idea at all. There may be a future update on this longer-than-expected project in the near future—unless it’s an embarrassing craft failure. My expectations are low though, knowing these are kids and kids love anything they help make.
The Big Boy Update: My husband and daughter were playing tic-tac-toe at dinner out tonight. My son said, “dad, you’re pretending you’re not that good at the game and letting her win.” About three minutes later he turned to me and said, “mom, can you play tic-tac-toe with me and pretend you’re not very good?” I didn’t need to try though—he decided he got two moves for every one of mine and won with ease.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter is particular about clothes. In one way she has very specific opinions and that’s if the article of clothing is “cold”. This is not what you might think—it’s if she feels it’s cold to the touch. Some of the softest cottons she won’t put on because they’re initially cold to the touch when you pull them out of the drawer. I spent one morning handing her all sorts of warm things to wear and had many items rejected because they were “cold”. This isn’t all the time, it’s only on mornings when she’s cold to begin. Because it’s gotten warmer now the complaints of cold clothes are much less frequent.
Saturday, May 14, 2016
The Wish List
My son’s understanding of “wish list” is not exactly accurate. The thing about a wish list from a parent’s perspective is you can take that very excited, “Mom, I really, really want this thing!” energy and redirect it to the wish list. This pretty much works anywhere. You can be in the toy store and have no arguments, whining or tantrums simply because you say, “that does look great, do you want to put it on your wish list?”
My son is always glad to put something on his list. He forgets it exists for periods of time and then other times, like this week, I’ve had to tell him he can only add three things a day to his list.
I inadvertently added complications to how my son understood the world of wish list by telling him I had ordered him something from China that I found on a web site. No where in this did I say ‘wish list’ but there was ordering from online and it was coming for him and I wouldn’t tell him what it was and somehow things got confused in his mind.
This past week he’s asked me when the thing I ordered for him was going to arrive, and then would follow it with, “when are my wish list things coming?” Following those comments were explanations about how wish lists were things we liked that our friends or family might buy for us on our birthdays or for Christmas. I explained that the act of adding an item to his wish list did not kick off a purchase and mail process, resulting in the item being delivered by Amazon two days later. He didn’t get it.
He did understand though that he needed someone to buy the item off his wish list for it to make it to him. It was about this time (at 7:25AM yesterday) that he asked if he could call Mimi (AKA “purchasing target”). I told him she was sleeping but he could call her later.
This afternoon, after being cut off from adding more things to his wish list, he asked me if he could call Mimi. I said, “you’re not going to ask her to buy you your wish list things, are you?” He said slowly and carefully, “no, I just wanted to tell her I love her.” Okay, I think, knowing full well his explanation was a cover for his true intentions.
We called Mimi and when she answered, he did tell her first thing he loved her. Then, without any transition, he launched into, “Mimi, would you but me <first item> from my wish list?” This was followed up with an explantation and then the request for the next item on his wish list. Mimi didn’t laugh at all and only asked him to have me let her know how to find the item so she knew exactly what he meant.
When my mother and I talked, we both laughed at the clever and yet obvious plan he had to try and get a new toy.
The Big Boy Update: I ordered my son a light up Spider Man mask, thinking he would like it since he’s wearing out his halloween costumes wearing them so much around the house. When the package arrived in the mail today I was happy to show my son. He looked at it and said, “I’m kind of phased out of that…but that’s okay.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter really likes “Soil Sauce”. What, you’ve never heard of the stuff? It’s fantastic. Most of us call it “Soy Sauce” though. Still, good eating.
My son is always glad to put something on his list. He forgets it exists for periods of time and then other times, like this week, I’ve had to tell him he can only add three things a day to his list.
I inadvertently added complications to how my son understood the world of wish list by telling him I had ordered him something from China that I found on a web site. No where in this did I say ‘wish list’ but there was ordering from online and it was coming for him and I wouldn’t tell him what it was and somehow things got confused in his mind.
This past week he’s asked me when the thing I ordered for him was going to arrive, and then would follow it with, “when are my wish list things coming?” Following those comments were explanations about how wish lists were things we liked that our friends or family might buy for us on our birthdays or for Christmas. I explained that the act of adding an item to his wish list did not kick off a purchase and mail process, resulting in the item being delivered by Amazon two days later. He didn’t get it.
He did understand though that he needed someone to buy the item off his wish list for it to make it to him. It was about this time (at 7:25AM yesterday) that he asked if he could call Mimi (AKA “purchasing target”). I told him she was sleeping but he could call her later.
This afternoon, after being cut off from adding more things to his wish list, he asked me if he could call Mimi. I said, “you’re not going to ask her to buy you your wish list things, are you?” He said slowly and carefully, “no, I just wanted to tell her I love her.” Okay, I think, knowing full well his explanation was a cover for his true intentions.
We called Mimi and when she answered, he did tell her first thing he loved her. Then, without any transition, he launched into, “Mimi, would you but me <first item> from my wish list?” This was followed up with an explantation and then the request for the next item on his wish list. Mimi didn’t laugh at all and only asked him to have me let her know how to find the item so she knew exactly what he meant.
When my mother and I talked, we both laughed at the clever and yet obvious plan he had to try and get a new toy.
The Big Boy Update: I ordered my son a light up Spider Man mask, thinking he would like it since he’s wearing out his halloween costumes wearing them so much around the house. When the package arrived in the mail today I was happy to show my son. He looked at it and said, “I’m kind of phased out of that…but that’s okay.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter really likes “Soil Sauce”. What, you’ve never heard of the stuff? It’s fantastic. Most of us call it “Soy Sauce” though. Still, good eating.
Friday, May 13, 2016
Hanger Art - Artist, Unknown
My children play in different parts of the house. Some of the areas are adult areas, meaning mostly that there aren’t toys in all corners of the house. The children have a cabinet of their kitchen things in the kitchen, another cabinet in the great room that’s the big catch all for stuff that gets left around, a closet in the basement, their bedroom and the bonus room.
We added another area, a closet in the guest room, after my daughter and her neighbor friend started to like to hide from the boys and play “baby” or “family” without being threatened by the superheroes, swords and bad guys the boys seem to thrive upon playing.
From time to time the closet gets a lot of play and then it’s forgotten for weeks. One of the things the two girls like to do is get inside this small closet and climb up onto the shelves, which are at right angles and fairly easy to do. I’m going to stop here and say a silent “thank you” again to our trim carpenter, Wayne, who made our house rock solid in all things wood-based, giving me high confidence the girls are in less danger climbing on the shelves than they would be from anything they might conjure up doing on the play set in the back yard.
Yesterday evening during bath time I was doing my typical sweep of the house to make sure they put everything up after play (frequent) and cleaning up where they didn’t (mostly). When I opened the closet door I found this piece of artwork that just made me laugh. I’m not sure how they were able to lean over, stand tall or reach around to get this built, but I was impressed.
What was more impressive was how darned long it too me to untangle the hangers from each other.
The Big Boy Update: Today was Bring Your Parents to School day. My son showed us some of the work he’s been doing at school. Below is something called the Decanomial Cube he showed us. Every piece from the 1x1 red square up to the 10x10 gold one he placed on the mat. There is a lot going on beyond just placing pieces of cardboard in a pattern which is carried through the math curriculum in his class as well as into the elementary years later. He was fast at it and was able to visually pick out the next width pieces very quickly and place them using his fine motor skills quite accurately.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: At Bring Your Parents to School day today my daughter showed my husband and me some of her favorite works. Some of them she had to work harder on than others because of her visual impairment. They have button, zipper and buckle frames that you use to practice things like unbuttoning and then buttoning back. At one point she was working on getting one button redone using only her hands without engaging her eyes. When my husband said she was working very hard on it she replied, “well, actually I’m using The Force”.
Non-Fitness Update: My Apple Watch went haywire yesterday, counting active calories at a frightening rate—for no reason. I hadn’t entered into “exercise mode” (which you need to do to burn significant calories) but they were ticking up as if I was running a marathon all day long. At the end of the day it told me I had burned more calories than I’d ever done before at something like 3500+ calories. This morning it was still out of whack so I implemented a maneuver I like to call the, “Reboot and Clean With Alcohol Until Things Settle Back Down.” The move worked and now it’s back to reporting my slack days normally.
We added another area, a closet in the guest room, after my daughter and her neighbor friend started to like to hide from the boys and play “baby” or “family” without being threatened by the superheroes, swords and bad guys the boys seem to thrive upon playing.
From time to time the closet gets a lot of play and then it’s forgotten for weeks. One of the things the two girls like to do is get inside this small closet and climb up onto the shelves, which are at right angles and fairly easy to do. I’m going to stop here and say a silent “thank you” again to our trim carpenter, Wayne, who made our house rock solid in all things wood-based, giving me high confidence the girls are in less danger climbing on the shelves than they would be from anything they might conjure up doing on the play set in the back yard.
Yesterday evening during bath time I was doing my typical sweep of the house to make sure they put everything up after play (frequent) and cleaning up where they didn’t (mostly). When I opened the closet door I found this piece of artwork that just made me laugh. I’m not sure how they were able to lean over, stand tall or reach around to get this built, but I was impressed.
What was more impressive was how darned long it too me to untangle the hangers from each other.
The Big Boy Update: Today was Bring Your Parents to School day. My son showed us some of the work he’s been doing at school. Below is something called the Decanomial Cube he showed us. Every piece from the 1x1 red square up to the 10x10 gold one he placed on the mat. There is a lot going on beyond just placing pieces of cardboard in a pattern which is carried through the math curriculum in his class as well as into the elementary years later. He was fast at it and was able to visually pick out the next width pieces very quickly and place them using his fine motor skills quite accurately.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: At Bring Your Parents to School day today my daughter showed my husband and me some of her favorite works. Some of them she had to work harder on than others because of her visual impairment. They have button, zipper and buckle frames that you use to practice things like unbuttoning and then buttoning back. At one point she was working on getting one button redone using only her hands without engaging her eyes. When my husband said she was working very hard on it she replied, “well, actually I’m using The Force”.
Non-Fitness Update: My Apple Watch went haywire yesterday, counting active calories at a frightening rate—for no reason. I hadn’t entered into “exercise mode” (which you need to do to burn significant calories) but they were ticking up as if I was running a marathon all day long. At the end of the day it told me I had burned more calories than I’d ever done before at something like 3500+ calories. This morning it was still out of whack so I implemented a maneuver I like to call the, “Reboot and Clean With Alcohol Until Things Settle Back Down.” The move worked and now it’s back to reporting my slack days normally.
Thursday, May 12, 2016
FOTM
Flavor Of The Month…that is an accurate description of how my children change their current preferences for the latest in marketing/children’s shows/toys/friends. They’re young and things change quickly. As a parent it’s sometimes hard to keep up.
It was the anything ball-like for my son when he was very young. You would have thought he would grow up being a professional, yet short, basketball player from the sheer force of will he put into loving what was, at that time, a massive ball he could barely hold in his little arms.
Next he moved into heavy construction machines, fascinated at every single vehicle he saw—snd there were a lot considering our entire neighborhood was under construction. Then it was trains followed next by Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. At that point his sister was old enough to jump into the preference game and they moved into other shows like Sesame Street and Yo Gabba Gabba—the latter being a phase I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive Uncle Jonathan for introducing.
By then my children were old enough to express preferences for what they wanted to watch/have as toys as Paw Patrol came around. Paw Patrol is still one of my daughter’s favorites with her loving all her “pups” and playing with them frequently. My son moved on to more typically male interests after Uncle Jonathan (yet again) said, “hey, there’s this new young children’s version of Transformers.
It was a good show—it had good moral lessons and the transformers were all “good guys”—and my son still loves anything that transforms. But wait, what are those Legos over there? Those look fun. And mom, do you mean to tell me there are television shows, video games and even a MOVIE about Legos? Say it isn’t so—sign me up for my next obsession.
Then it was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and My Little Pony. I know, you’re thinking those shows were decades ago, right? Never let it be said a good reboot couldn’t revitalize a franchise and rake in hoards of money through merchandising.
My son is still fascinated by Legos, Transformers, Ninja Turtles and, on occasion, My Little Pony, but the newest FOTM is Power Rangers for both children. My daughter mostly goes along with his preferences because when he likes something, he really likes it.
There are multiple new Power Ranger shows, each with their own theme and toys—toys which are used, as you would buy them yourself, in the show so you as the child have the “real thing”. My son knows he has a ‘wish list’ and has been asking me to look up specific things, browsing costumes and toys on the internet and then asking me if I can add them to his list for his birthday (in December) which I am glad to do.
By December, I wonder what the FOTM will be then?
The Big Boy Update: My son went with his class yesterday to visit the camp site he’ll be staying at for the camp out his class is doing at the end of the school year in June. He told me this morning it was the first time he’d ever ridden on a bus. He didn’t even have to sit in a car seat either because the bus was safe, he said.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My son and daughter were having a conversation in the car this morning. It was one of those times I couldn’t get to a stop light fast enough to write down what they said. This was my daughter’s response at one point as they discussed how boys and girls were different: " My butt’s in the back, my vagina’s in the front. Boys have tentacles that we can’t hit...cause it hurts."
It was the anything ball-like for my son when he was very young. You would have thought he would grow up being a professional, yet short, basketball player from the sheer force of will he put into loving what was, at that time, a massive ball he could barely hold in his little arms.
Next he moved into heavy construction machines, fascinated at every single vehicle he saw—snd there were a lot considering our entire neighborhood was under construction. Then it was trains followed next by Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. At that point his sister was old enough to jump into the preference game and they moved into other shows like Sesame Street and Yo Gabba Gabba—the latter being a phase I’m not sure I’ll ever forgive Uncle Jonathan for introducing.
By then my children were old enough to express preferences for what they wanted to watch/have as toys as Paw Patrol came around. Paw Patrol is still one of my daughter’s favorites with her loving all her “pups” and playing with them frequently. My son moved on to more typically male interests after Uncle Jonathan (yet again) said, “hey, there’s this new young children’s version of Transformers.
It was a good show—it had good moral lessons and the transformers were all “good guys”—and my son still loves anything that transforms. But wait, what are those Legos over there? Those look fun. And mom, do you mean to tell me there are television shows, video games and even a MOVIE about Legos? Say it isn’t so—sign me up for my next obsession.
Then it was the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and My Little Pony. I know, you’re thinking those shows were decades ago, right? Never let it be said a good reboot couldn’t revitalize a franchise and rake in hoards of money through merchandising.
My son is still fascinated by Legos, Transformers, Ninja Turtles and, on occasion, My Little Pony, but the newest FOTM is Power Rangers for both children. My daughter mostly goes along with his preferences because when he likes something, he really likes it.
There are multiple new Power Ranger shows, each with their own theme and toys—toys which are used, as you would buy them yourself, in the show so you as the child have the “real thing”. My son knows he has a ‘wish list’ and has been asking me to look up specific things, browsing costumes and toys on the internet and then asking me if I can add them to his list for his birthday (in December) which I am glad to do.
By December, I wonder what the FOTM will be then?
The Big Boy Update: My son went with his class yesterday to visit the camp site he’ll be staying at for the camp out his class is doing at the end of the school year in June. He told me this morning it was the first time he’d ever ridden on a bus. He didn’t even have to sit in a car seat either because the bus was safe, he said.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My son and daughter were having a conversation in the car this morning. It was one of those times I couldn’t get to a stop light fast enough to write down what they said. This was my daughter’s response at one point as they discussed how boys and girls were different: " My butt’s in the back, my vagina’s in the front. Boys have tentacles that we can’t hit...cause it hurts."
Wednesday, May 11, 2016
So, Is It Working?
This post is about my daughter’s right eye. The left eye, to immediately digress, has been improving slightly on its own. We got lenses and she is wearing them all the time. She does seem to be seeing better—when we compare it to what she could see/do in January when things were their worst. But we’ve also seen her build skills through working with her Visual Impairment, Orientation and Mobility, Play Therapy and Music Therapy teachers. She’s also had a lot of time to build skills based on her experiences.
So slow improvement over time with a possible jump in vision based on the corrective lenses. But how about that right eye? There is really no knowing what she can see out of it until we force her to exclusively use it. Quick summary of the eye: the retina detached, the eye lost dramatic pressure and was inflamed. The inflammation resolved over time and the pressure was returned via artificial substances added to her eye. Her retina has now reattached, but she lost her natural lens as a necessary step in the surgeries.
Retina reattached, check. Pressure back to normal, check. Inflammation gone, check. Missing lens corrected with glasses, check. That’s it, right, now she can see again? We’re not sure, because there’s one factor we can’t observe via medical tools and that’s how well the retina is functioning. Did the rods and cones regenerate over the past five months? Is the retina sending light signals to the brain? If those signals are getting there, is her brain paying attention and can it interpret them?
Today I asked her if we could patch her left eye for five minutes, and when she said, “for candy?” I said, “absolutely!” She told me at that point she could only see colors with her right eye. As soon as I had it patched, she was basically blind. She wasn’t as scared as she has been before, but she was not able to find anything. I can give you about twelve examples of things that happened over the next five minutes that showed she really was not seeing much of anything out of her right eye but I’ll suffice with just one and ask you to trust me on the rest: our neighbor’s black dog was two feet in front of her sitting on the light-colored sidewalk. I told my daughter to walk straight forward to find Luna and yet she still wasn’t able to navigate there or find the dog without help.
These weren’t the results I was hoping to have when we patched her left eye for the first time. (This was a test, we will probably do more formal patching going forward.) Multiple things might be in play here. First, her right eye lens prescription took into account the heavy substance functioning as an internal lens in her eye. But it’s only in that positions when she’s lying down, so her prescription may well be off for now until the PFO is removed in a few months. Second, her brain may be getting correct vision signals but is just ignoring them (this is called amblyopia). If that’s the case, patching will help over time, but based on today, it’s going to be quite the trial for her as well as us initially. Third, she’s almost completely blind in the right eye and it’s permanent.
I’m not hoping for option number three. I hope to report better news next time, but this blog journalist tries to write about the good as well as the bad and some days folks, it’s just not good news. But she’s happy. She’s always happy. And that is a goodness.
The Big Boy Update: Today in the car on the way to school my son said, “I want to go to the past.” Okay, I didn’t expect that kind of insight from a five-year-old. I asked him how he planned to get to the past to which he replied, “in a time machine”. Little sponges, these children are. I don’t know where he heard about it, but my son is now planning on building a time machine.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got a trophy today at gymnastics. She hasn’t been going for long to the class for visually impaired children, but seeing how it’s the end of the season we were there for trophy day. She stood on the first place block and smiled while she was presented with her trophy. She really likes gymnastics. She’s also quite good at it.
So slow improvement over time with a possible jump in vision based on the corrective lenses. But how about that right eye? There is really no knowing what she can see out of it until we force her to exclusively use it. Quick summary of the eye: the retina detached, the eye lost dramatic pressure and was inflamed. The inflammation resolved over time and the pressure was returned via artificial substances added to her eye. Her retina has now reattached, but she lost her natural lens as a necessary step in the surgeries.
Retina reattached, check. Pressure back to normal, check. Inflammation gone, check. Missing lens corrected with glasses, check. That’s it, right, now she can see again? We’re not sure, because there’s one factor we can’t observe via medical tools and that’s how well the retina is functioning. Did the rods and cones regenerate over the past five months? Is the retina sending light signals to the brain? If those signals are getting there, is her brain paying attention and can it interpret them?
Today I asked her if we could patch her left eye for five minutes, and when she said, “for candy?” I said, “absolutely!” She told me at that point she could only see colors with her right eye. As soon as I had it patched, she was basically blind. She wasn’t as scared as she has been before, but she was not able to find anything. I can give you about twelve examples of things that happened over the next five minutes that showed she really was not seeing much of anything out of her right eye but I’ll suffice with just one and ask you to trust me on the rest: our neighbor’s black dog was two feet in front of her sitting on the light-colored sidewalk. I told my daughter to walk straight forward to find Luna and yet she still wasn’t able to navigate there or find the dog without help.
These weren’t the results I was hoping to have when we patched her left eye for the first time. (This was a test, we will probably do more formal patching going forward.) Multiple things might be in play here. First, her right eye lens prescription took into account the heavy substance functioning as an internal lens in her eye. But it’s only in that positions when she’s lying down, so her prescription may well be off for now until the PFO is removed in a few months. Second, her brain may be getting correct vision signals but is just ignoring them (this is called amblyopia). If that’s the case, patching will help over time, but based on today, it’s going to be quite the trial for her as well as us initially. Third, she’s almost completely blind in the right eye and it’s permanent.
I’m not hoping for option number three. I hope to report better news next time, but this blog journalist tries to write about the good as well as the bad and some days folks, it’s just not good news. But she’s happy. She’s always happy. And that is a goodness.
The Big Boy Update: Today in the car on the way to school my son said, “I want to go to the past.” Okay, I didn’t expect that kind of insight from a five-year-old. I asked him how he planned to get to the past to which he replied, “in a time machine”. Little sponges, these children are. I don’t know where he heard about it, but my son is now planning on building a time machine.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got a trophy today at gymnastics. She hasn’t been going for long to the class for visually impaired children, but seeing how it’s the end of the season we were there for trophy day. She stood on the first place block and smiled while she was presented with her trophy. She really likes gymnastics. She’s also quite good at it.
Tuesday, May 10, 2016
Armpit Hair
I know, you weren’t expecting a post about armpit hair, were you? Six months ago and I wouldn’t have even considered a post about such a topic. The thing is, it’s not what you might think. This is about a different kind of armpit hair.
I’ve been growing my hair out for what seems like far too long. I plan on cutting it off…at some point. Just not yet. Having short hair is easier than long hair because short hair doesn’t take so darned long. My hair grows very slowly, so the hair at the bottom of the longest strands is now three-years-old. That’s a lot of washes, hair ties, drying, product spraying, flat ironing, sun damage, color and keratin treatment. But for now it’s getting longer, slowly, and I deal with the extra time and management it takes to keep up long hair.
There are things that happen when your hair gets long. Things you notice at first as a novelty and then later don’t notice then because your hair just always does that. For instance, when I put my hair in a pony tail and braid it to go running, it’s sort of a bulky mass that swings back and forth. The first time it hit my shoulders when I was running was the strangest thing. Every plod it would swish back and forth. Then, I started to sweat and it wasn’t a swish so much as a wet brush type of action.
That’s not about armpits though, so let’s get to the good (or gory) stuff. Did you know that long hair of a certain length gets stuck in your armpits? Yah, it’s true. I mean it’s not all up in your arm pit, maybe it’s more like the crook of your arm, only when your arm is closed by your side.
It’s not stuck so much as in the way and you have to put your hair elsewhere. Think about when you pull your pants up in the bathroom. Your shirt will get in the way if you don’t move it first. It’s a lot like that. It’s also something I never would have thought was a side-effect of having long hair.
The Big Boy Update: My son got in the car today telling me he had some requests. First, he wanted a silver shirt. It needed to be long sleeved. Then, he wanted some black long pants. They needed to have two pockets. And finally, he wanted his hair cut, “like this” (gesticulations occur in the back seat that I cannot watch without endangering our lives). I have him describe what I can only imagine to be a cross of a mohawk and a bowl cut. I told him I would try to look for those things in the future. Then I asked the key question I knew would shed some light on his requests: “who was wearing that outfit?” “Oh”, he told me, “it’s Power Rangers Megaforce’s Orion. Only the costume when he’s in human form. That’s the one I want.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter likes to order things in a rainbow color scheme. Yesterday she had some tracing cards and colored pencils. I came back a little while later to find her too busy putting the tracing cards in order and the matching pencils beside them. It was a spread of product worthy of a television commercial it looked appealing when she was finished.
Fitness Stuff: I biked sixteen miles with my husband today. I have new pedals and shoes that do this mating clipping thing that locks me into the pedal. Sounds strange, but you can pedal on the down stroke, pull backwards, pull upwards and drag over for a full circle of muscle-based movement potential. So they’re great, but you have to get out of them so you can get off the bike. I only fell once today, going too slow and turning to see if my husband was behind me. It’s a strange sensation realizing you’re going to fall on the ground because when you tried to move your foot in one direction it couldn’t because it was tethered and then it’s too late to stop the fall. I was fine, small scratch was all. Still, good lesson learned—when in doubt, go ahead and clip out.
I’ve been growing my hair out for what seems like far too long. I plan on cutting it off…at some point. Just not yet. Having short hair is easier than long hair because short hair doesn’t take so darned long. My hair grows very slowly, so the hair at the bottom of the longest strands is now three-years-old. That’s a lot of washes, hair ties, drying, product spraying, flat ironing, sun damage, color and keratin treatment. But for now it’s getting longer, slowly, and I deal with the extra time and management it takes to keep up long hair.
There are things that happen when your hair gets long. Things you notice at first as a novelty and then later don’t notice then because your hair just always does that. For instance, when I put my hair in a pony tail and braid it to go running, it’s sort of a bulky mass that swings back and forth. The first time it hit my shoulders when I was running was the strangest thing. Every plod it would swish back and forth. Then, I started to sweat and it wasn’t a swish so much as a wet brush type of action.
That’s not about armpits though, so let’s get to the good (or gory) stuff. Did you know that long hair of a certain length gets stuck in your armpits? Yah, it’s true. I mean it’s not all up in your arm pit, maybe it’s more like the crook of your arm, only when your arm is closed by your side.
It’s not stuck so much as in the way and you have to put your hair elsewhere. Think about when you pull your pants up in the bathroom. Your shirt will get in the way if you don’t move it first. It’s a lot like that. It’s also something I never would have thought was a side-effect of having long hair.
The Big Boy Update: My son got in the car today telling me he had some requests. First, he wanted a silver shirt. It needed to be long sleeved. Then, he wanted some black long pants. They needed to have two pockets. And finally, he wanted his hair cut, “like this” (gesticulations occur in the back seat that I cannot watch without endangering our lives). I have him describe what I can only imagine to be a cross of a mohawk and a bowl cut. I told him I would try to look for those things in the future. Then I asked the key question I knew would shed some light on his requests: “who was wearing that outfit?” “Oh”, he told me, “it’s Power Rangers Megaforce’s Orion. Only the costume when he’s in human form. That’s the one I want.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter likes to order things in a rainbow color scheme. Yesterday she had some tracing cards and colored pencils. I came back a little while later to find her too busy putting the tracing cards in order and the matching pencils beside them. It was a spread of product worthy of a television commercial it looked appealing when she was finished.
Fitness Stuff: I biked sixteen miles with my husband today. I have new pedals and shoes that do this mating clipping thing that locks me into the pedal. Sounds strange, but you can pedal on the down stroke, pull backwards, pull upwards and drag over for a full circle of muscle-based movement potential. So they’re great, but you have to get out of them so you can get off the bike. I only fell once today, going too slow and turning to see if my husband was behind me. It’s a strange sensation realizing you’re going to fall on the ground because when you tried to move your foot in one direction it couldn’t because it was tethered and then it’s too late to stop the fall. I was fine, small scratch was all. Still, good lesson learned—when in doubt, go ahead and clip out.
Monday, May 9, 2016
Stupid Potholder Loom
Do you remember making potholders for your parents when you were young? There’s a 9x9” square frame with teeth all around it. You take loops of fabric and wrap them across each of the vertical hooks and then weave the horizontal loops through, making a nice checkerboard pattern. Then you unhook the loops, feeding one into the next around the perimeter until you’re back at your starting point and tie a knot to complete the project. Fun, right?
I was substituting today and when the main teacher asked me if I’d like to help out one of the children who was having trouble engaging in anything at that point I told her I’d be glad to. I showed her what to do and she helped me. She wasn’t sure about the whole project and the interleaving of the horizontal loops was confusing to her so I did most of the work with her helping by holding things and handing them to me.
I was looking forward to seeing the final product come together when we realized there were some teeth missing where we needed to hook the last few loops. We tried with some tape (which didn’t work) and then triple hooked on the closest hooks so we could get started disconnecting the potholder/napkin/coaster thing.
There was some conferencing that happened between the main teacher and me because we knew you did one thing into the next, but how exactly was it we did that step? She and I both had memories of doing this as a child but that was quite a long time ago. We did figure it out though and I started moving around the frame while the child looked on and watched expectantly.
As I progressed slowly she told me it didn’t look square any more. It was also smaller. Oh, and she said she was bored now. I suggested she get some snack because right about that point things went all to hell with the last leg of the hooks coming off, leaving me an unravelling craft piece to finish.
I didn’t swear (out loud). Some time later with cramping hand muscles complaining loudly, I managed to finish the blasted thing. I thought I had re-woven everything correctly but I missed a few spots on one side, which irritated me. I handed it to her and asked her if she liked it and did she think her parents would like it—expecting her to refuse this piece of hard work she was about to get full credit for. But she did like it and she was happily putting it in her bag to take home as her farther arrived at pickup.
I’m not sure why I remember it being such a fun thing when I was a child. Maybe the loom I used then had different hooks that held on better—or maybe I had a teacher, like me, who helped do the tough parts.
Anyway, don’t ask me to help you make a pot holder. I’m done.
The Big Boy Update: My son can eat the heck out of a fast food kids meal. He loves them, especially after Tae Kwon Do. He will eat all the nuggets, fries and drink and then finish by licking the sauce out of the sauce cup. If only they made broccoli kids meals.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter went to Tae Kwon Do with my son tonight. She has her new glasses and we wanted to see if she could see what was happening. The last time she went, it was an exercise in frustration and disappointment for her and we didn’t want to put her through that again until we thought she was ready. She stood by another student and copied her because she wasn’t able to see what the master was doing clearly at the front of the room. She did stay close to the other girl, but she had a good time and was reasonably successful. My husband said she realistically did only about 15% of the moves correctly—but he also said she hadn’t been in the class since November and the other children are much more advanced at this point. So was she able to see more and just not able to follow the fast-paced flow of a class full of students who have already been taught the moves more slowly and had more practice? When she got home I asked her what her favorite move was and she showed me the Warrior Left and Warrior Right poses. I don’t think we’ll put her in class for now, but it’s at least good to see she’s able to do a bit more than she was able to see/do two months ago.
I was substituting today and when the main teacher asked me if I’d like to help out one of the children who was having trouble engaging in anything at that point I told her I’d be glad to. I showed her what to do and she helped me. She wasn’t sure about the whole project and the interleaving of the horizontal loops was confusing to her so I did most of the work with her helping by holding things and handing them to me.
I was looking forward to seeing the final product come together when we realized there were some teeth missing where we needed to hook the last few loops. We tried with some tape (which didn’t work) and then triple hooked on the closest hooks so we could get started disconnecting the potholder/napkin/coaster thing.
There was some conferencing that happened between the main teacher and me because we knew you did one thing into the next, but how exactly was it we did that step? She and I both had memories of doing this as a child but that was quite a long time ago. We did figure it out though and I started moving around the frame while the child looked on and watched expectantly.
As I progressed slowly she told me it didn’t look square any more. It was also smaller. Oh, and she said she was bored now. I suggested she get some snack because right about that point things went all to hell with the last leg of the hooks coming off, leaving me an unravelling craft piece to finish.
I didn’t swear (out loud). Some time later with cramping hand muscles complaining loudly, I managed to finish the blasted thing. I thought I had re-woven everything correctly but I missed a few spots on one side, which irritated me. I handed it to her and asked her if she liked it and did she think her parents would like it—expecting her to refuse this piece of hard work she was about to get full credit for. But she did like it and she was happily putting it in her bag to take home as her farther arrived at pickup.
I’m not sure why I remember it being such a fun thing when I was a child. Maybe the loom I used then had different hooks that held on better—or maybe I had a teacher, like me, who helped do the tough parts.
Anyway, don’t ask me to help you make a pot holder. I’m done.
The Big Boy Update: My son can eat the heck out of a fast food kids meal. He loves them, especially after Tae Kwon Do. He will eat all the nuggets, fries and drink and then finish by licking the sauce out of the sauce cup. If only they made broccoli kids meals.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter went to Tae Kwon Do with my son tonight. She has her new glasses and we wanted to see if she could see what was happening. The last time she went, it was an exercise in frustration and disappointment for her and we didn’t want to put her through that again until we thought she was ready. She stood by another student and copied her because she wasn’t able to see what the master was doing clearly at the front of the room. She did stay close to the other girl, but she had a good time and was reasonably successful. My husband said she realistically did only about 15% of the moves correctly—but he also said she hadn’t been in the class since November and the other children are much more advanced at this point. So was she able to see more and just not able to follow the fast-paced flow of a class full of students who have already been taught the moves more slowly and had more practice? When she got home I asked her what her favorite move was and she showed me the Warrior Left and Warrior Right poses. I don’t think we’ll put her in class for now, but it’s at least good to see she’s able to do a bit more than she was able to see/do two months ago.
Sunday, May 8, 2016
HMD
This has absolutely nothing to do with Mother’s Day but I thought about it this morning seeing as it was Mother’s Day. During the construction of our home we prepared and listed our existing home. The day we listed it on the marked our real estate agent brought over a lock box to put on the front door to hold a key for house showings.
She told us there was a three-letter combination for the lock box and if we ever needed to get into it the code was ‘HMD'. She said she liked to come up with a way to remember the codes for her lock boxes and this particular was “Happy Mother’s Day”.
That was six years ago. I’m not sure we ever needed to get to the key, but for some reason I think of our agent and her HMD mnemonic every year about this time.
As for Mother’s Day today, we had a sitter so my husband and I could go out to lunch. Then my best friend and I ran ten miles and were crushed by the early May heat. After that I went to a girls dinner with some fellow moms.
Thanks to my husband who did most of the work with the children while I did my Mother’s Day things. Oh, and thanks to my children who had a busy day playing with their friends outside most of the day.
The Big Boy Update: My son came to find me this morning and told me they had found a dead bug. I said sometimes bugs get inside and eventually die. About five minutes later my son and daughter came back, looking very pleased with themselves. They had gotten a ziplock bag, collected the “bug” and brought it to show me. Folks, this was no “bug”, it was a very large bumblebee, replete with a very large stinger. I told them about the stinger and said I was glad they had been careful, also did either of them want to take it to school to show their friends tomorrow?
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Tonight my daughter was in the kitchen, looking towards the television in the living room. When asked if she could see it she said she could, only we had to curb our excitement because a few minutes later she said, “I think I need to get my chair” and then proceeded to pull the stool a few feet away from the television. It’s just so hard to tell what’s going on with her vision sometimes.
Fitness Update: I ran ten miles today and felt drained (literally) because I was sweating profusely from the heat. I drank a lot of water and ate a large dinner to make up for the burned calories.
She told us there was a three-letter combination for the lock box and if we ever needed to get into it the code was ‘HMD'. She said she liked to come up with a way to remember the codes for her lock boxes and this particular was “Happy Mother’s Day”.
That was six years ago. I’m not sure we ever needed to get to the key, but for some reason I think of our agent and her HMD mnemonic every year about this time.
As for Mother’s Day today, we had a sitter so my husband and I could go out to lunch. Then my best friend and I ran ten miles and were crushed by the early May heat. After that I went to a girls dinner with some fellow moms.
Thanks to my husband who did most of the work with the children while I did my Mother’s Day things. Oh, and thanks to my children who had a busy day playing with their friends outside most of the day.
The Big Boy Update: My son came to find me this morning and told me they had found a dead bug. I said sometimes bugs get inside and eventually die. About five minutes later my son and daughter came back, looking very pleased with themselves. They had gotten a ziplock bag, collected the “bug” and brought it to show me. Folks, this was no “bug”, it was a very large bumblebee, replete with a very large stinger. I told them about the stinger and said I was glad they had been careful, also did either of them want to take it to school to show their friends tomorrow?
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Tonight my daughter was in the kitchen, looking towards the television in the living room. When asked if she could see it she said she could, only we had to curb our excitement because a few minutes later she said, “I think I need to get my chair” and then proceeded to pull the stool a few feet away from the television. It’s just so hard to tell what’s going on with her vision sometimes.
Fitness Update: I ran ten miles today and felt drained (literally) because I was sweating profusely from the heat. I drank a lot of water and ate a large dinner to make up for the burned calories.
Saturday, May 7, 2016
New Wheels
I got a new bike today. I’ve had a bicycle for about three years and decided I’d better get an upgrade. The one I purchased at the time was an entry-level bike at an entry-level price because I didn’t know how much I would like or want to ride. Until that time I hadn’t biked since I was a child.
It turned out I liked to bike and my husband and I liked to bike our children around on the backs of our bicycles when the weather was nice. The gear changing was okay, but the overall gearing was set up for general riding and I’ve started riding more. Specifically, I’m riding thirty or more miles at a time and a small advantage in gear ratios makes a significant difference over a long ride.
The bicycle I got wasn’t much more expensive than my original cycle but it’s more suited to how I’ve been riding. I also decided to get clip-in shoes and petals—which sounded very high-end pro-cyclist when I first saw them. The thing about the clip-in shoes is how you can pedal differently. With sneakers alone, you’re pushing down at one point in each revolution. With clip-ins, you’re pedaling down, pulling back, dragging up and lifting over each stroke. It makes for more efficient muscle use and can reduce fatigue over long rides.
Two weeks to go before the triathlon. I’m going to do a bike/run segment next week and see how it goes with the new cycle.
The Big Boy Update: My son was playing with something yesterday and was excited about it. I heard him exclaim, “it’s off the hook!”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My son was playing Sonic the Hedgehog video game from our decades old Sega Genesis machine. At the start, the SEGA logo is displayed and a two-note rendition of the word “Sega” is sung. Every time this happened my daughter would sing along saying, “Make Up”.
Fitness Update: That new bike I just wrote about from above? Well, I’ve already had an accident on it. I got on it in the driveway to demonstrate to my husband how the clip in shoes work and due to lack of experience I didn’t get the shoe rotated out of the clip as I stopped, falling sideways off and landing straight on my pelvis. It looked bad. It felt bad—but it was a good spot in which to land given all the other options. I’ve taken some NSAIDs and hopefully I’ll just feel a little bruised in the morning.
It turned out I liked to bike and my husband and I liked to bike our children around on the backs of our bicycles when the weather was nice. The gear changing was okay, but the overall gearing was set up for general riding and I’ve started riding more. Specifically, I’m riding thirty or more miles at a time and a small advantage in gear ratios makes a significant difference over a long ride.
The bicycle I got wasn’t much more expensive than my original cycle but it’s more suited to how I’ve been riding. I also decided to get clip-in shoes and petals—which sounded very high-end pro-cyclist when I first saw them. The thing about the clip-in shoes is how you can pedal differently. With sneakers alone, you’re pushing down at one point in each revolution. With clip-ins, you’re pedaling down, pulling back, dragging up and lifting over each stroke. It makes for more efficient muscle use and can reduce fatigue over long rides.
Two weeks to go before the triathlon. I’m going to do a bike/run segment next week and see how it goes with the new cycle.
The Big Boy Update: My son was playing with something yesterday and was excited about it. I heard him exclaim, “it’s off the hook!”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My son was playing Sonic the Hedgehog video game from our decades old Sega Genesis machine. At the start, the SEGA logo is displayed and a two-note rendition of the word “Sega” is sung. Every time this happened my daughter would sing along saying, “Make Up”.
Fitness Update: That new bike I just wrote about from above? Well, I’ve already had an accident on it. I got on it in the driveway to demonstrate to my husband how the clip in shoes work and due to lack of experience I didn’t get the shoe rotated out of the clip as I stopped, falling sideways off and landing straight on my pelvis. It looked bad. It felt bad—but it was a good spot in which to land given all the other options. I’ve taken some NSAIDs and hopefully I’ll just feel a little bruised in the morning.
Friday, May 6, 2016
Breakfast For Dinner
My husband and I thought it would be fun to have breakfast for dinner with the children one night as something they’d never done. Weekday mornings are time-constrained and we don’t have a sit-down meal as a family but instead have the children sit at the counter to eat their meals. Weekend mornings we commonly let everyone get up and get their own breakfast with help from us where needed. We sometimes have family breakfast, but it’s not often.
Today was a teacher workday so last night was the start of our weekend and looked like a good day with my husband’s work schedule for our breakfast for dinner evening. Each child had their own after school activity but we told them what we were planning for the evening. They were excited about pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs for dinner.
My husband made the meal with help from both children. We ate everything he’d prepared and would have all gone for more pancakes if there were any more available. My son told Uncle Jonathan today that he had two breakfasts yesterday, one in the morning and one at night. I think we’re going to have to do breakfast for dinner again sometime soon.
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Uncle Jonathan Update: We haven’t had as much opportunity to see Uncle Jonathan as we used to when he lived closer so we all were excited to have him over for dinner tonight. He talked with my son about Power Rangers and my daughter couldn’t get enough of him lifting her up and over his head. As we sat down to dinner my son said, “It’s good to have dinner with Jon because he’s my first best friend.” Not to be outdone, my daughter said, “he’s my best friend that picks me up in the air.”
Today was a teacher workday so last night was the start of our weekend and looked like a good day with my husband’s work schedule for our breakfast for dinner evening. Each child had their own after school activity but we told them what we were planning for the evening. They were excited about pancakes, bacon and scrambled eggs for dinner.
My husband made the meal with help from both children. We ate everything he’d prepared and would have all gone for more pancakes if there were any more available. My son told Uncle Jonathan today that he had two breakfasts yesterday, one in the morning and one at night. I think we’re going to have to do breakfast for dinner again sometime soon.
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Uncle Jonathan Update: We haven’t had as much opportunity to see Uncle Jonathan as we used to when he lived closer so we all were excited to have him over for dinner tonight. He talked with my son about Power Rangers and my daughter couldn’t get enough of him lifting her up and over his head. As we sat down to dinner my son said, “It’s good to have dinner with Jon because he’s my first best friend.” Not to be outdone, my daughter said, “he’s my best friend that picks me up in the air.”
Thursday, May 5, 2016
Okay?
What’s in a word? We’ve starting taking my son to see the same play therapist we’re taking my daughter to. We realized he was likely affected by his sister’s eye situation, but we weren’t sure what was a result of seeing his sister get “special attention” with the doctors, what was his personality, and what was basic boy versus girl behavior.
We had a meeting with his teachers at school in which they talked to us about some observations they had had behaviorally where my son couldn’t keep his hands off other children and had some challenges focusing while in the classroom. I’m ever so glad we have Dhruti, our children’s therapist, because in just two meetings we have vastly more information than we did before and we have a greater understanding of what’s going on in his mind.
The first meeting was with my son and me only, in which we did specific tasks (games in bags with instructions I read out to him). The session was recorded and my son thought the entire hour was good fun. Later in the week my husband and I met with Dhruti to review the videoed session and get her advice and plans on how to proceed.
The first thing she said was that what’s going on is age-based and correctable—and quickly so. She said with a combination of giving him some skills as well as some ways we could change things we were doing we would see quick and dramatic results. He doesn’t have development issues, although there are some things he’s having challenges with because of how he’s managing his world right now but they should correct themselves as we move forward.
This is good news. We’re looking forward to a plan for us and some specialized “lessons”, as they call it in Montessori school. She told us that the majority of the time my son is living in a chaotic mind. He’s not being defiant (behavior we thought we were getting all the time) but trying to put together things happening in a very crowded brain. She said he’s lacking some skills in compartmentalization and as such, everything is always up in the air and he’s just overloaded with processing everything.
For example, having a calendar on the refrigerator in which we can cross off the days until an event (could be the weekend or vacation or party) will help relieve him from having to keep it on his mind. He’s running his life without the proper skills to mentally say, “I don’t have to worry about that now” or “that’s finished and I don’t have to think about it any more.” I don’t have a lot of additional examples, but with I’m sure I’ll have more soon as we move further into his therapy.
Dhruti said my son has very low self-esteem as well. There was a bit at the beginning of the recorded session in which we were supposed to play with two stuffed animals. My son selected the frog and the play between my dog and his frog went from friendly to aggressive fairly quickly. Then, my son said something interesting, he said, “my frog hates himself.” Wow. I’m not a trained therapist, but I knew that was something important.
Dhruti showed us example after example on the tape where my son made a choice and then changed to another option immediately afterwards. For example, I’d say, “where do you want the pretend grocery store to be on the table?” He pointed to one of the corners so I moved the dog to the corner and then my son said, “no, it’s going to be in the middle.” That doesn’t sound important at all to me; children change their minds all the time—but it was. He’s struggling internally with chaos and he’s trying to control the world around him to try and lessen the chaos.
Choices are important, but a child shouldn’t be asked to manage a family or all the decisions in a day—it’s too much on them. They’re not equipped. I mentioned in a post a day or two ago that children are literal creatures. The most important and immediate change she told my husband and me to implement was how we were handling things with both words and expectations with him. Instead of giving him more choices to try and help with his need to have control, we should be giving him less. Yes, let him pick milk or orange juice, but calmly state other things like, “we’re eating dinner at the table tonight; your seat is here.”
I didn’t think that would work, but it did. He didn’t balk at some decisions being made for him in a non-authorative way. The next part was the most interesting to me. Dhruti said, “when you make a decision for him such as, ‘let’s move on to the next activity’ in the video, you’re actually saying, ‘let’s move on to the next activity, okay?’" There is a huge difference in the two sentences in for my son. The first is a statement, the second is a question, and a question that ends with a request for my son to evaluate the situation and make a decision.”
As an adult, that added, “okay” at the end is commonly understood to be, “do you hear what I’m saying” or “let me know if you disagree with this plan.” To him, it means he has to think about what’s happening and make the decision himself.
Dhruti said from my son’s side, she was going to give him some tools/skills to help compartmentalize things so he could put them out of his mind and focus on what he’s currently doing, lowering his frustration and stress. Today, I picked him up from school and asked him what work he did during class. He told me after lunch (for two hours) he did nothing but stand around and lie on the floor. He’s stuck in chaos and isn’t able to move forward because he’s still processing what’s been happening.
I’m looking forward to the next few months for my son. I think Dhruti is going to be a great help to both him and our family.
The Big Boy Update: My son has been mad about the Power Rangers lately. There are a few different shows, but he knows which one he wants to watch. I thought these were old shows but they’re new and they are build around merchandising products—featured in the show by the characters and could you please put them on my wish list mom. As I sat holding my son’s hand to watch an episode before bed last night my son told me all the names of the characters as the theme song began and they were each introduced. He would shout out, “Black Power Ranger”, “Green Power Ranger”, etc. The last character came on and he paused for a second and said, “Whatever Power Ranger”. I thought he had forgotten what color that girl was, but no, she wasn’t in the show at all. If I figure out what color the “Whatever Power Ranger” is, I’ll let you know.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I asked my daughter on the way home from school today about her orientation and mobility session with Jane at the museum (an off-site trip they had scheduled for the two of them.) She told me about butterflies, animals, trees and other things that you have to be able to see to know are there. I asked her if she had been able to see things more easily with her new lenses to which she impatiently replied, “remember, I told you a long time ago [yesterday], a lot lot lot lot better.” I’m anxiously awaiting an email from her O&M teacher to get her opinion on how the day went now.
We had a meeting with his teachers at school in which they talked to us about some observations they had had behaviorally where my son couldn’t keep his hands off other children and had some challenges focusing while in the classroom. I’m ever so glad we have Dhruti, our children’s therapist, because in just two meetings we have vastly more information than we did before and we have a greater understanding of what’s going on in his mind.
The first meeting was with my son and me only, in which we did specific tasks (games in bags with instructions I read out to him). The session was recorded and my son thought the entire hour was good fun. Later in the week my husband and I met with Dhruti to review the videoed session and get her advice and plans on how to proceed.
The first thing she said was that what’s going on is age-based and correctable—and quickly so. She said with a combination of giving him some skills as well as some ways we could change things we were doing we would see quick and dramatic results. He doesn’t have development issues, although there are some things he’s having challenges with because of how he’s managing his world right now but they should correct themselves as we move forward.
This is good news. We’re looking forward to a plan for us and some specialized “lessons”, as they call it in Montessori school. She told us that the majority of the time my son is living in a chaotic mind. He’s not being defiant (behavior we thought we were getting all the time) but trying to put together things happening in a very crowded brain. She said he’s lacking some skills in compartmentalization and as such, everything is always up in the air and he’s just overloaded with processing everything.
For example, having a calendar on the refrigerator in which we can cross off the days until an event (could be the weekend or vacation or party) will help relieve him from having to keep it on his mind. He’s running his life without the proper skills to mentally say, “I don’t have to worry about that now” or “that’s finished and I don’t have to think about it any more.” I don’t have a lot of additional examples, but with I’m sure I’ll have more soon as we move further into his therapy.
Dhruti said my son has very low self-esteem as well. There was a bit at the beginning of the recorded session in which we were supposed to play with two stuffed animals. My son selected the frog and the play between my dog and his frog went from friendly to aggressive fairly quickly. Then, my son said something interesting, he said, “my frog hates himself.” Wow. I’m not a trained therapist, but I knew that was something important.
Dhruti showed us example after example on the tape where my son made a choice and then changed to another option immediately afterwards. For example, I’d say, “where do you want the pretend grocery store to be on the table?” He pointed to one of the corners so I moved the dog to the corner and then my son said, “no, it’s going to be in the middle.” That doesn’t sound important at all to me; children change their minds all the time—but it was. He’s struggling internally with chaos and he’s trying to control the world around him to try and lessen the chaos.
Choices are important, but a child shouldn’t be asked to manage a family or all the decisions in a day—it’s too much on them. They’re not equipped. I mentioned in a post a day or two ago that children are literal creatures. The most important and immediate change she told my husband and me to implement was how we were handling things with both words and expectations with him. Instead of giving him more choices to try and help with his need to have control, we should be giving him less. Yes, let him pick milk or orange juice, but calmly state other things like, “we’re eating dinner at the table tonight; your seat is here.”
I didn’t think that would work, but it did. He didn’t balk at some decisions being made for him in a non-authorative way. The next part was the most interesting to me. Dhruti said, “when you make a decision for him such as, ‘let’s move on to the next activity’ in the video, you’re actually saying, ‘let’s move on to the next activity, okay?’" There is a huge difference in the two sentences in for my son. The first is a statement, the second is a question, and a question that ends with a request for my son to evaluate the situation and make a decision.”
As an adult, that added, “okay” at the end is commonly understood to be, “do you hear what I’m saying” or “let me know if you disagree with this plan.” To him, it means he has to think about what’s happening and make the decision himself.
Dhruti said from my son’s side, she was going to give him some tools/skills to help compartmentalize things so he could put them out of his mind and focus on what he’s currently doing, lowering his frustration and stress. Today, I picked him up from school and asked him what work he did during class. He told me after lunch (for two hours) he did nothing but stand around and lie on the floor. He’s stuck in chaos and isn’t able to move forward because he’s still processing what’s been happening.
I’m looking forward to the next few months for my son. I think Dhruti is going to be a great help to both him and our family.
The Big Boy Update: My son has been mad about the Power Rangers lately. There are a few different shows, but he knows which one he wants to watch. I thought these were old shows but they’re new and they are build around merchandising products—featured in the show by the characters and could you please put them on my wish list mom. As I sat holding my son’s hand to watch an episode before bed last night my son told me all the names of the characters as the theme song began and they were each introduced. He would shout out, “Black Power Ranger”, “Green Power Ranger”, etc. The last character came on and he paused for a second and said, “Whatever Power Ranger”. I thought he had forgotten what color that girl was, but no, she wasn’t in the show at all. If I figure out what color the “Whatever Power Ranger” is, I’ll let you know.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I asked my daughter on the way home from school today about her orientation and mobility session with Jane at the museum (an off-site trip they had scheduled for the two of them.) She told me about butterflies, animals, trees and other things that you have to be able to see to know are there. I asked her if she had been able to see things more easily with her new lenses to which she impatiently replied, “remember, I told you a long time ago [yesterday], a lot lot lot lot better.” I’m anxiously awaiting an email from her O&M teacher to get her opinion on how the day went now.
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