I like every season. It seems to have taken a while but I think Fall may actually be here to stay. I’ve been happy about it because that means I can wear some of the fall clothes I have, including a few new things. There’s nothing like bringing in a new season with a new outfit to wear. But the change in temperature and amount of garments worn to match, tends to give me fits for the beginning of the season.
I’m commonly cold, so I wear warm clothes. I go outside and it’s cold which is fine because I’m dressed for the temperature. But I’m not accustomed to the colder temperature so I get cold. Then I get in the car or go inside a building and the heat is on and I get overly hot because I’m now overdressed. Leather boots and socks are great in cold weather but are stifling indoors. It just feels like a temperature roller coaster to my body for the first month or so into fall.
The one fall day I hope will be mild—warm even—is Halloween. There’s nothing like planning for weeks in advance with a costume, only to find out you’re over or underdressed for the weather on All Hallows Eve. This year though we had very warm weather, which worked out kindly for my children since they were in costumes that would have made both them and the adults cranky had the temperature been twenty degrees cooler.
My daughter was Wonder Woman, a very popular costume this year due to the recent release of the Wonder Woman movie. My son, for reasons I’m not sure, wanted to be the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. Specifically he wanted to be an inflatable version of the character. My husband found the costume and Nana, through some tedious and complex sewing, shortened the legs so he could walk without falling down.
My daughter looked stylish and skimpily clad in her red, blue and gold Wonder Woman costume replete with patent red leather knee-high boots. Though she wisely decided her new teal fleece would be a good addition to her outfit considering it was getting a little chilly after dark.
Nana went off with my daughter while Papa went with my son. I’m not sure who my husband went with but he came back and then went out again later. I think they got separated and everyone was busy talking to neighbors. I was in an all-black dress and flowing cape, handing out “Love Potion No. 10” (there being inherent problems with the No. 9 version it turned out). Our friends came over for the third year running so their daughter could go trick-or-treating while they handed out our candy and I made sure no adult went thirsty.
My son got back first and was carefully sorting his candy, removing any with peanuts but telling Papa that almonds were okay. My daughter wasn’t anywhere to be found so my husband went to find them in the car since the streets had mostly cleared. Nana said they were heading home but my daughter kept saying, “just one more house”. Lastly, Dylan made it in and checked the amount of candy she’d collected in her backpack, declaring this year the biggest haul yet at 12.8lbs.
Candy was eaten, bedtimes were missed. Anyone want to guess how cranky the children will be in the morning? It’s only one night of the year—a night I remember more than almost any other from my childhood—so I guess it’s worth it.
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Big Number Conversation: This morning we heard the children talking to Alexa up in their bedroom. I was asking them what they wanted for breakfast, calling up to them from the kitchen. After they responded I heard them talking to Alexa. I asked what they were talking about. As my daughter rounded the stairs into the dining room she said, “we’re talking about really big numbers with Alexa.” They were doing math problems, asking Alexa things like what a million times a million was. I started listening in and heard my son say, “wow, that’s a really big number.”
Tuesday, October 31, 2017
Monday, October 30, 2017
Anxiety
I was watching a television series today titled, “Brain Games”. The series through example and explanation tells you how your brain works and why. I’m not really sure if I’m more interested in the how or the why part, but both sides are fairly fascinating.
There are a lot of “play along at home” games to see if you get caught like the majority of the population. In a lot of cases you want to get caught, meaning miss something or be scared by something—because that means your brain is working as it should be.
The episode I was watching today was on fear, which was singular as tomorrow is Halloween. There were multiple ways our brain works to help us determine what should be something to be afraid of. This is a good thing because you want to run away from that snake or dodge off the side of the road from the oncoming car or not drink the strange liquid from the creepy man if it will save your life.
So from the perspective of the show, fear was a good thing, a skill our brain acquires from use and experience. So what about anxiety? Anxiety feels awful and sometimes seems like you can’t escape it. The show defined anxiety as: “a condition where your brain can’t determine weather a situation is a threat or not.”
That’s about the best definition of anxiety that I’ve ever heard, and sums up exactly how I feel when I’m suffering from it. Anxiety is no fun.
The Big Boy Update: My husband and son were working on carving a Creeper pumpkin (character from Minecraft). My husband is pretty good at anything involving fine motor skills and can carve a killer pumpkin. I heard my son say from the kitchen, “dad, are you an artist?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter was just in from school this afternoon when she asked me, “mom, what does ‘speech’ mean?” I explained it meant that you had something to say to people. She said, “in that case, I have prepared a speech: ’I’m hungry.’”
There are a lot of “play along at home” games to see if you get caught like the majority of the population. In a lot of cases you want to get caught, meaning miss something or be scared by something—because that means your brain is working as it should be.
The episode I was watching today was on fear, which was singular as tomorrow is Halloween. There were multiple ways our brain works to help us determine what should be something to be afraid of. This is a good thing because you want to run away from that snake or dodge off the side of the road from the oncoming car or not drink the strange liquid from the creepy man if it will save your life.
So from the perspective of the show, fear was a good thing, a skill our brain acquires from use and experience. So what about anxiety? Anxiety feels awful and sometimes seems like you can’t escape it. The show defined anxiety as: “a condition where your brain can’t determine weather a situation is a threat or not.”
That’s about the best definition of anxiety that I’ve ever heard, and sums up exactly how I feel when I’m suffering from it. Anxiety is no fun.
The Big Boy Update: My husband and son were working on carving a Creeper pumpkin (character from Minecraft). My husband is pretty good at anything involving fine motor skills and can carve a killer pumpkin. I heard my son say from the kitchen, “dad, are you an artist?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter was just in from school this afternoon when she asked me, “mom, what does ‘speech’ mean?” I explained it meant that you had something to say to people. She said, “in that case, I have prepared a speech: ’I’m hungry.’”
Sunday, October 29, 2017
The Pink Shoes
I really don’t know name brands for most things. Maybe I’m not an official girl, I don’t know if that’s a thing, but sometimes I feel like I’ve missed out on something I’m suppose to know about or care about.
I was at a donor recognition event last night and there was a mother in front of me listening to our head of school make her speech. She was wearing a little black dress that looked very nice on her tall, slender frame. I looked down and she had on these killer pink high heels with rhinestone straps around her foot and ankle. The outfit was basically the shoes, because once you’d seen them that was the only thing you could look at.
I went up to her after the presentation and told her, “okay, you won the shoe competition tonight, hands down.” She genuinely said thank you and that her husband had bought them. Impressive, a man who buys his wife shoes, I thought. I don’t think my husband would have the interest or inclination to buy me shoes, which is fine by me. Her husband followed up, saying, “her family owns a jewelry store, so I had to come up with a different angle on presents.”
Later that night as I was about to leave I was saying my goodbyes and mentioned again that it was a good thing her feet hadn’t gotten tired and she’d taken off the shoes because I might just have walked out with them. Then one of the teachers spoke up, saying, “my husband noticed how much I liked them and asked me if I wanted a pair for Christmas.” She said she had told him what brand they were and that they were rather out of their price range.
How could she tell from just looking at the shoe on someone? Were these famous shoes that I had no clue about? I don’t even remember the brand name, but it wasn’t one I was familiar with. If this was an isolated event I’d write it off as coincidence but it happens a few times a year, typically with some kind of fashion thing.
Maybe I’m just unfashionable? Actually, I think I’m okay with that.
The Big Boy Update: In the car on the way home from an event yesterday having nothing to do with buckets, my son told us, “buckets are everything. You can use them to carry things. You can use them to climb things. And if there are a bunch of zombies following you, the water’s got you covered.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter said, “gimme some skin. (That means high-five).”
Taper: We ran a half marathon distance of 13.1 miles today. We were in the neighborhood and kept getting interrupted by neighbors but we didn’t want to go into the park because it had rained and was muddy. It was nice to see the neighbors though.
I was at a donor recognition event last night and there was a mother in front of me listening to our head of school make her speech. She was wearing a little black dress that looked very nice on her tall, slender frame. I looked down and she had on these killer pink high heels with rhinestone straps around her foot and ankle. The outfit was basically the shoes, because once you’d seen them that was the only thing you could look at.
I went up to her after the presentation and told her, “okay, you won the shoe competition tonight, hands down.” She genuinely said thank you and that her husband had bought them. Impressive, a man who buys his wife shoes, I thought. I don’t think my husband would have the interest or inclination to buy me shoes, which is fine by me. Her husband followed up, saying, “her family owns a jewelry store, so I had to come up with a different angle on presents.”
Later that night as I was about to leave I was saying my goodbyes and mentioned again that it was a good thing her feet hadn’t gotten tired and she’d taken off the shoes because I might just have walked out with them. Then one of the teachers spoke up, saying, “my husband noticed how much I liked them and asked me if I wanted a pair for Christmas.” She said she had told him what brand they were and that they were rather out of their price range.
How could she tell from just looking at the shoe on someone? Were these famous shoes that I had no clue about? I don’t even remember the brand name, but it wasn’t one I was familiar with. If this was an isolated event I’d write it off as coincidence but it happens a few times a year, typically with some kind of fashion thing.
Maybe I’m just unfashionable? Actually, I think I’m okay with that.
The Big Boy Update: In the car on the way home from an event yesterday having nothing to do with buckets, my son told us, “buckets are everything. You can use them to carry things. You can use them to climb things. And if there are a bunch of zombies following you, the water’s got you covered.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter said, “gimme some skin. (That means high-five).”
Taper: We ran a half marathon distance of 13.1 miles today. We were in the neighborhood and kept getting interrupted by neighbors but we didn’t want to go into the park because it had rained and was muddy. It was nice to see the neighbors though.
Saturday, October 28, 2017
Pumpkins and Prizes
There was an event today called, “Pumpkins and Prizes” hosted at the state school for the blind. My daughter’s VI teachers let us know about it and we just need to say RSVP to attend. Sighted siblings welcome as well. My daughter remembers this event from two years ago. She played in the darkened, “light box” room and was able to see things placed on what looked like an overhead projector type of box and made a pumpkin face on a clear sheet of plastic.
She did other events including painting a pumpkin, decorating a cupcake and not eating the pizza because she was full of cupcake. This year’s event was similar, including pumpkin decorating, cupcake and the not wanting to eat pizza due to the aforementioned cupcake.
My son had a good time as well. He made a nice pumpkin with some skull stickers and drawing work. He also balked at the pizza because there was only cheese and he preferred pepperoni. There was a play doh table that captured my son’s attention for a good while due to all the tools they had available.
The event wasn’t a huge one; it filled up a portion of the moderately-sized cafeteria. There were people at tables representing a company or a charity organization for something related to blindness. We were pleased to run into my daughter’s classmate, Aditi, and her parents. They happily hugged each other and were inseparable for the rest of the time. Inseparable being my daughter asking where Aditi was and us sending her in the right direction as Aditi as more vision and was moving around a lot.
The piñata was whacked, my children had candy being contained by making a basket of their shirt bottom and holding it with their two hands while my husband went to the car to get a bag. We were close to leaving when we heard my daughter’s name being called.
She had won the door prize and her friend Aditi had won second place. It was a nice door prize too, especially considering we came free to the event and everything was donated or done by volunteers. The basket contained a speaking digital watch—which my daughter now has on. It was far too big for her wrist but another hole further up the band wasn’t too much of a problem to add on. There were chocolates and there was also an Amazon Alexa Dot.
I’ve talked about Alexa a lot here. We use it to play music, add things to the shopping list, answer questions, find out the weather, send voice messages to other Alexa users and make phone calls to other Alexa users. Oh, and to tell jokes. My daughter uses Alexa to do every single one of those things. The children have asked for one in their room and now they have one—with rules, lest it be removed. Rules like volume, not using it after bedtime, not calling anyone without confirming timing is okay with us.
But there’s another feature we haven’t used before but plan to now. You can “drop in” on another Echo device. For instance we have the kitchen, master bedroom and now my children’s room. We can say, “Alexa, drop in on the children’s room” and it will open what’s like an intercom line between the two devices. We can tell them it’s time to get up. We can tell them we’re hearing them still talking and it’s after bedtime.
So we’ll see how it goes. It was a great event and we’re very grateful for the prizes and fun for the day.
The Big Boy Update: My son asked, “why does Star Wars have to be so violent? Couldn’t it be Star Peace?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has gotten back interested in the tricycle again. She’s way too big for it but she really likes it inside the house. This afternoon she rode it into the master bedroom and then had to work to get it over the carpet to the bathroom where I heard her say to herself, “I’m going to hear what it sounds like in the bathroom.” Apparently she’d been listening to how the wheels sounded on different surfaces.
She did other events including painting a pumpkin, decorating a cupcake and not eating the pizza because she was full of cupcake. This year’s event was similar, including pumpkin decorating, cupcake and the not wanting to eat pizza due to the aforementioned cupcake.
My son had a good time as well. He made a nice pumpkin with some skull stickers and drawing work. He also balked at the pizza because there was only cheese and he preferred pepperoni. There was a play doh table that captured my son’s attention for a good while due to all the tools they had available.
The event wasn’t a huge one; it filled up a portion of the moderately-sized cafeteria. There were people at tables representing a company or a charity organization for something related to blindness. We were pleased to run into my daughter’s classmate, Aditi, and her parents. They happily hugged each other and were inseparable for the rest of the time. Inseparable being my daughter asking where Aditi was and us sending her in the right direction as Aditi as more vision and was moving around a lot.
The piñata was whacked, my children had candy being contained by making a basket of their shirt bottom and holding it with their two hands while my husband went to the car to get a bag. We were close to leaving when we heard my daughter’s name being called.
She had won the door prize and her friend Aditi had won second place. It was a nice door prize too, especially considering we came free to the event and everything was donated or done by volunteers. The basket contained a speaking digital watch—which my daughter now has on. It was far too big for her wrist but another hole further up the band wasn’t too much of a problem to add on. There were chocolates and there was also an Amazon Alexa Dot.
I’ve talked about Alexa a lot here. We use it to play music, add things to the shopping list, answer questions, find out the weather, send voice messages to other Alexa users and make phone calls to other Alexa users. Oh, and to tell jokes. My daughter uses Alexa to do every single one of those things. The children have asked for one in their room and now they have one—with rules, lest it be removed. Rules like volume, not using it after bedtime, not calling anyone without confirming timing is okay with us.
But there’s another feature we haven’t used before but plan to now. You can “drop in” on another Echo device. For instance we have the kitchen, master bedroom and now my children’s room. We can say, “Alexa, drop in on the children’s room” and it will open what’s like an intercom line between the two devices. We can tell them it’s time to get up. We can tell them we’re hearing them still talking and it’s after bedtime.
So we’ll see how it goes. It was a great event and we’re very grateful for the prizes and fun for the day.
The Big Boy Update: My son asked, “why does Star Wars have to be so violent? Couldn’t it be Star Peace?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has gotten back interested in the tricycle again. She’s way too big for it but she really likes it inside the house. This afternoon she rode it into the master bedroom and then had to work to get it over the carpet to the bathroom where I heard her say to herself, “I’m going to hear what it sounds like in the bathroom.” Apparently she’d been listening to how the wheels sounded on different surfaces.
Friday, October 27, 2017
The Eventually Club
Children are rarely in a hurry—unless they are. When you most need them to be in a hurry is the time they’re guaranteed to mosey, dither, dawdle and delay. From talking to other parents we’re not alone in this, it seems to be a skill children level up quickly and master from a young age.
This morning my son and I were in the drop-off line at school. We arrive, I open the door and all my son has to do is unbuckle, grab his backpack and exit the car. Simple. And yet daily this seems to be a task my son needs to be asked to perform instead of it happening as a matter of routine. He wants to play a game where he pretends he’s asleep, or he hides in the third row of the car, or he wants to tell me something “important” or he just delays. Today I told the teacher calmly waiting for him to get out of the car, “we’re members of ’The Eventually Club’”. And eventually, just as promised, my son got out of the car to head in to class.
We’ve instituted a new system of stamps for behaviors in the last few days. Things my children like to do aren’t necessarily a given any more—they have to earn the privilege by completing tasks, mostly in a timely manner without complaining or whining.
The things we’re asking them to do aren’t hard; they’re mostly things we want them to take initiative to do or do with us only asking one time. Or do without whining and complaining. It’s set up so they can succeed and easily get stamps on their chart on the refrigerator such as: washing your hands after going to the bathroom, brushing your teeth without being reminded, getting dressed and ready for bed without being asked, cleaning up your dishes from a meal, getting shoes and socks on before school, playing outside for an hour or more, etc. It’s rigged so they can win and more importantly so we can win too because they’re doing the jobs willingly, without being asked or nagged.
We’ve been working on the reward system with things such as time on the iPad or television. Doing an experiment with a parent, picking the restaurant for the next time we go out to dinner, having a treat at a time you normally wouldn’t get one or going shopping at the dollar store. Each of these items has a weight in stamps they can spend (i.e. cross out) on their chart. So far no one has been willing to spend stars yet, but it’s Friday and they’ve got the weekend to figure out what they want to do with their stamp currency.
The Big Boy Update: My son loved Parkour at first but now that he’s in the second level class he hates it. It’s a different kind of class and he finds it boring. Today when I reminded him about class after school he was bitterly angry, telling me, “I’m not going to go. This is your punishment, losing the money you spent.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter just came in the door from school. She came in and said to me, “can you please stop making me walk? I’ve been walking all day long at school.”
This morning my son and I were in the drop-off line at school. We arrive, I open the door and all my son has to do is unbuckle, grab his backpack and exit the car. Simple. And yet daily this seems to be a task my son needs to be asked to perform instead of it happening as a matter of routine. He wants to play a game where he pretends he’s asleep, or he hides in the third row of the car, or he wants to tell me something “important” or he just delays. Today I told the teacher calmly waiting for him to get out of the car, “we’re members of ’The Eventually Club’”. And eventually, just as promised, my son got out of the car to head in to class.
We’ve instituted a new system of stamps for behaviors in the last few days. Things my children like to do aren’t necessarily a given any more—they have to earn the privilege by completing tasks, mostly in a timely manner without complaining or whining.
The things we’re asking them to do aren’t hard; they’re mostly things we want them to take initiative to do or do with us only asking one time. Or do without whining and complaining. It’s set up so they can succeed and easily get stamps on their chart on the refrigerator such as: washing your hands after going to the bathroom, brushing your teeth without being reminded, getting dressed and ready for bed without being asked, cleaning up your dishes from a meal, getting shoes and socks on before school, playing outside for an hour or more, etc. It’s rigged so they can win and more importantly so we can win too because they’re doing the jobs willingly, without being asked or nagged.
We’ve been working on the reward system with things such as time on the iPad or television. Doing an experiment with a parent, picking the restaurant for the next time we go out to dinner, having a treat at a time you normally wouldn’t get one or going shopping at the dollar store. Each of these items has a weight in stamps they can spend (i.e. cross out) on their chart. So far no one has been willing to spend stars yet, but it’s Friday and they’ve got the weekend to figure out what they want to do with their stamp currency.
The Big Boy Update: My son loved Parkour at first but now that he’s in the second level class he hates it. It’s a different kind of class and he finds it boring. Today when I reminded him about class after school he was bitterly angry, telling me, “I’m not going to go. This is your punishment, losing the money you spent.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter just came in the door from school. She came in and said to me, “can you please stop making me walk? I’ve been walking all day long at school.”
Thursday, October 26, 2017
How Many Days Until Halloween?
My children are getting excited about Halloween. They’re asking Alexa how many days until Halloween. My daughter has a Wonder Woman costume which will be lovely if the weather is warm and terrible if not. My son has an inflatable Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man costume that is currently being altered for his height by Nana. My husband is going to be a gladiator and I have a very boring all black gypsy costume.
For me it isn’t about the costume though, it’s about the drink. The adult drink. For a number of years I’ve been handing out adult drinks while the children are given candy. So far I’ve never gotten those two treats confused and broken any laws in the process.
The drink isn’t usually the important point, that meaning the content of the drink. It’s more about the scenario or the patter around the drink. Last year I had a cure for the Zika virus, renamed the Freaka Virus. I had a single white contact that was more disturbing than the remainder of the costume I had.
This year I have some donated vials from a neighbor in the pharmaceutical industry that are going to work nicely for whatever I put in them (as yet to be determined). The drink this year is Love Potion Number Ten, there being inherent problems with the number nine version—or so the story will go.
It’s more about talking to the parents and coming up with variants of the story so I can hand out as many drinks as possible. I think I got close to 150 last year. I suppose I’d better get to the store to get some alcohol soon as Halloween is only days away.
The Big Boy Update: My son was talking to me about elements today on the ride to school. I asked him if he knew what Oxygen was and he told me, “it’s one of the ten most abundant elements on earth”. Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Then he asked me about molecules and I told him about the water molecule and how he could impress dad after school if he asked him if he could have H2O with dinner.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got in trouble the other night for whining and balking at doing her homework—so I told her fine, she didn’t get to do it then. You know what happens next, right? She has a fit about doing the homework. She goes on and on even after I took her up to bed. At one point I asked her if she’d had eye drops done and she tried a last tactic, saying, “if you let me do my homework, I’ll tell you if Daddy did the eyedrops.”
For me it isn’t about the costume though, it’s about the drink. The adult drink. For a number of years I’ve been handing out adult drinks while the children are given candy. So far I’ve never gotten those two treats confused and broken any laws in the process.
The drink isn’t usually the important point, that meaning the content of the drink. It’s more about the scenario or the patter around the drink. Last year I had a cure for the Zika virus, renamed the Freaka Virus. I had a single white contact that was more disturbing than the remainder of the costume I had.
This year I have some donated vials from a neighbor in the pharmaceutical industry that are going to work nicely for whatever I put in them (as yet to be determined). The drink this year is Love Potion Number Ten, there being inherent problems with the number nine version—or so the story will go.
It’s more about talking to the parents and coming up with variants of the story so I can hand out as many drinks as possible. I think I got close to 150 last year. I suppose I’d better get to the store to get some alcohol soon as Halloween is only days away.
The Big Boy Update: My son was talking to me about elements today on the ride to school. I asked him if he knew what Oxygen was and he told me, “it’s one of the ten most abundant elements on earth”. Okay, I wasn’t expecting that. Then he asked me about molecules and I told him about the water molecule and how he could impress dad after school if he asked him if he could have H2O with dinner.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got in trouble the other night for whining and balking at doing her homework—so I told her fine, she didn’t get to do it then. You know what happens next, right? She has a fit about doing the homework. She goes on and on even after I took her up to bed. At one point I asked her if she’d had eye drops done and she tried a last tactic, saying, “if you let me do my homework, I’ll tell you if Daddy did the eyedrops.”
Wednesday, October 25, 2017
Sounding It Out
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Learning How To Read Status:
Both of my children are working on reading this year. My son is doing it in the traditional way using the Roman or Latin alphabet in print. In other words, my son reads with his eyes. My daughter uses the same alphabet from a letter standpoint but has the letters translated into braille format and has to feel them with her fingers to read.
Both children are doing well. My son is reading words in the beginner books primarily as sight words, adding new words each book and sounding out words as necessary. My daughter is mostly working on words letter by letter, sounding them each out as she spells them because you can’t grasp a whole word at once when you’re only feeling one letter at a time.
My daughter is really doing well though. She’s got the letters down and even knows some contracted words or shorcuts, or ‘secret codes’ for common words using only one braille cell in place of the whole word. She’s also getting good at sounding out words.
Here are two pages she did tonight. She read all the letters, sounding out the words as she went along, asking if there were any silent letters in the words. Sometime I helped her with specific pronunciation of a character that has more than one sound depending on context.
Both of my children are working on reading this year. My son is doing it in the traditional way using the Roman or Latin alphabet in print. In other words, my son reads with his eyes. My daughter uses the same alphabet from a letter standpoint but has the letters translated into braille format and has to feel them with her fingers to read.
Both children are doing well. My son is reading words in the beginner books primarily as sight words, adding new words each book and sounding out words as necessary. My daughter is mostly working on words letter by letter, sounding them each out as she spells them because you can’t grasp a whole word at once when you’re only feeling one letter at a time.
My daughter is really doing well though. She’s got the letters down and even knows some contracted words or shorcuts, or ‘secret codes’ for common words using only one braille cell in place of the whole word. She’s also getting good at sounding out words.
Here are two pages she did tonight. She read all the letters, sounding out the words as she went along, asking if there were any silent letters in the words. Sometime I helped her with specific pronunciation of a character that has more than one sound depending on context.
She sounded out ‘dinosaur’ and ’envelope’ and figured out the words herself. I didn’t expect her to be able to do long words at this point in learning braille. She’s also getting faster and faster. We were going to do one page tonight but she happily did five pages while her brother read two books.
Tuesday, October 24, 2017
Bending Over
Something has gone wrong in my back. I’ve heard of people saying they can’t bend over but it’s never happened to me before. Technically I can bend over, it’s just so tight and painful that I don’t want to.
My chiropractor did what he could but he sent me (as in highly recommended that I go) to get a massage. My normal guy, Gregory, was booked so I asked for Antoine. I’d heard he was even more aggressive with deep tissue massages—and I needed aggressive.
I had a list of muscle groups to ask him to work on from the chiropractor and work on them he did. I wasn’t sure if I could make it through some of the work he was doing but I had resolved not to ask him to back off. It was a very painful hour, but it helped.
Antoine told me some things I could to exercise-wise to help and I plan on doing them—as soon as I can bend over again. Tomorrow hopefully this muscle spasm/inflammation spike will be better. For now I’m going to just let that piece of trash or toy on the floor lie until I’m better able to get to it.
The Big Boy Update: My son is going to be rich apparently. He told me, “I know a way to get a lot of money. You take a dollar and put it on a string. Then you light the string and then it explodes and dollars bills come out everywhere.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got warned three times again tonight and lost the relative privilege of doing her homework. She was doing the it’s not fair bit because she wanted to do homework with my husband and not me because she had me last night. She was still screaming in her bed when I came downstairs to write this about how she wanted to do her homework. Telling her we could do it in the morning did not help, she said she’d forget. I assured her I would remember for her but she doesn’t think I’m trustworthy.
My chiropractor did what he could but he sent me (as in highly recommended that I go) to get a massage. My normal guy, Gregory, was booked so I asked for Antoine. I’d heard he was even more aggressive with deep tissue massages—and I needed aggressive.
I had a list of muscle groups to ask him to work on from the chiropractor and work on them he did. I wasn’t sure if I could make it through some of the work he was doing but I had resolved not to ask him to back off. It was a very painful hour, but it helped.
Antoine told me some things I could to exercise-wise to help and I plan on doing them—as soon as I can bend over again. Tomorrow hopefully this muscle spasm/inflammation spike will be better. For now I’m going to just let that piece of trash or toy on the floor lie until I’m better able to get to it.
The Big Boy Update: My son is going to be rich apparently. He told me, “I know a way to get a lot of money. You take a dollar and put it on a string. Then you light the string and then it explodes and dollars bills come out everywhere.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got warned three times again tonight and lost the relative privilege of doing her homework. She was doing the it’s not fair bit because she wanted to do homework with my husband and not me because she had me last night. She was still screaming in her bed when I came downstairs to write this about how she wanted to do her homework. Telling her we could do it in the morning did not help, she said she’d forget. I assured her I would remember for her but she doesn’t think I’m trustworthy.
Monday, October 23, 2017
How Do You Clear Your Mind?
My son wasn’t able to settle in tonight after going to bed so I sat in the room with the children because when they’re not ready to sleep sometimes they feed off each other’s energy and don’t get to sleep for some time.
I’d read It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and Room On The Broom and we were having some very windy fall weather so I thought they would drift off to sleep easily. My son wasn’t able to get settled and did this thing he does where he thumps his feet on the wall. For a long time I didn’t know what the sound was exactly because I can hear it from downstairs but he wasn’t doing it when I was in the room.
He said to me quietly that he’d seen something that was scary today. He was getting lunch with dad and there was an old lady with a large and apparently black bump on her head. I don’t know what exactly it was she had going on, but it wasn’t bandaged. He didn’t like the look of it at all and he was thinking about it. I told him she might have had her head get hit by something and she was healing and that older people sometimes took a longer time to heal. I told my son she probably didn’t like the way it looked either.
My son was quiet for a bit and then he said, “how do you clear your mind?” He wanted to know how he could stop thinking about everything so he could fall asleep. I said it was a very good question and different people had different ways of clearing their mind to fall asleep.
I told him maybe he could think about a big dump truck that could come and take all the bad or sad or scary thoughts and take them away. He asked if it could be good thoughts too? I said it was up to him. I said after the dump truck was gone maybe the only thing that was left was a soft, fluffy pillow and a warm blanket on a comfortable mattress.
I don’t know if it worked because I left the room shortly after that. I know it’s tough to have a thought in your head you can’t get rid of that keeps you awake and won’t let your mind rest.
The Big Boy Update: My son asked me tonight after we’d turned the lights off to go to bed, “what are eyes made of?” (He had a spot that was bothering him just inside the bridge of his nose where some skin was scraped.) I tried to come up with words he could understand and told him that eyes were made of cells and fluids and tissue. He sat up in bed and said, “wait, our eyes are made out of toilet paper?!”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has worn the skin off her fingers. They’re peeling and she’s not happy about it. This is from climbing the door frames of course. I told her she needs to stop and take a break tonight as I was clipping some of the excess skin. She said in a sad voice, “but I don’t even know I’m doing it.” I think it’s true, it’s just an integral part of everything she does around the house now. We might need an intervention but I really don’t know how to block off all the door frames in the house or the rest of us won’t be able to get around.
I’d read It’s The Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown and Room On The Broom and we were having some very windy fall weather so I thought they would drift off to sleep easily. My son wasn’t able to get settled and did this thing he does where he thumps his feet on the wall. For a long time I didn’t know what the sound was exactly because I can hear it from downstairs but he wasn’t doing it when I was in the room.
He said to me quietly that he’d seen something that was scary today. He was getting lunch with dad and there was an old lady with a large and apparently black bump on her head. I don’t know what exactly it was she had going on, but it wasn’t bandaged. He didn’t like the look of it at all and he was thinking about it. I told him she might have had her head get hit by something and she was healing and that older people sometimes took a longer time to heal. I told my son she probably didn’t like the way it looked either.
My son was quiet for a bit and then he said, “how do you clear your mind?” He wanted to know how he could stop thinking about everything so he could fall asleep. I said it was a very good question and different people had different ways of clearing their mind to fall asleep.
I told him maybe he could think about a big dump truck that could come and take all the bad or sad or scary thoughts and take them away. He asked if it could be good thoughts too? I said it was up to him. I said after the dump truck was gone maybe the only thing that was left was a soft, fluffy pillow and a warm blanket on a comfortable mattress.
I don’t know if it worked because I left the room shortly after that. I know it’s tough to have a thought in your head you can’t get rid of that keeps you awake and won’t let your mind rest.
The Big Boy Update: My son asked me tonight after we’d turned the lights off to go to bed, “what are eyes made of?” (He had a spot that was bothering him just inside the bridge of his nose where some skin was scraped.) I tried to come up with words he could understand and told him that eyes were made of cells and fluids and tissue. He sat up in bed and said, “wait, our eyes are made out of toilet paper?!”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has worn the skin off her fingers. They’re peeling and she’s not happy about it. This is from climbing the door frames of course. I told her she needs to stop and take a break tonight as I was clipping some of the excess skin. She said in a sad voice, “but I don’t even know I’m doing it.” I think it’s true, it’s just an integral part of everything she does around the house now. We might need an intervention but I really don’t know how to block off all the door frames in the house or the rest of us won’t be able to get around.
Sunday, October 22, 2017
Parking Spaces
We went to the state fair again today with my in-laws. They came into town last night in order for us to be able to go early in the morning when the gates opened, thus avoiding the crowds. We did get there early and had minimal delays due to people asking questions about what kind of car we had that had doors that opened upwards instead of in the typical fashion.
We group won a stuffed panda thanks to my husband who shot the water into the target hole faster and more accurately than the other competitors. We ate the largest biscuits I remember ever having seen and had some of the mini donuts we like to get each and every time we visit the fair.
My children rode some of the rides they liked from their earlier visits and added to them with new ones before it got too busy. My daughter had a very difficult day with the, “it’s not fair” and “but I didn’t get to” or “but I wanted to” comments. This is in significant part related to her vision but is also based on where she is developmentally. That and the combination of parenting responses we’re giving her (faulty at best) isn’t helping. So she got in trouble several times and my husband’s and my tempers were strained and subsequently lost.
As I was taking my daughter to the bathroom during a break she stopped me and wanted to show me something on the concrete. She’s able and enjoys following painted lines but this was something new. She said, “that’s a ’T’ and that…is a ‘3’. What does that mean?” She was correct in what she saw and I told her it was a number of a parking space.
For the rest of the time we were there she was looking for these same types of markings. Number letter combinations that looked like this:
She had a hard time with the number ‘1’ at first because it had an addition on the top and a line at the bottom she wasn’t familiar with. My mother-in-law said she noticed it was easier for my daughter to see in shade versus when sunlight was on the markings. So not only can she write the digits zero through nine, she can recognize them, provided they’re large enough.
We left the fair by taking the sky car (horizontal ski lift) across the fairgrounds back to the entrance. Every year my children talk about going to the fair multiple times during the following twelve months and always look forward to the week when the fair finally arrives.
The Big Boy Update: My son asked Nana to buy him something as we were leaving the fair today. I knew he had wanted it because he’d been asking about it for the last two trips there. He and Nana got the item and they got it at a dollar off because Nana was out of cash. She told him, “okay, but this is the last of my money.” My son wasn’t overly fooled though as he said, “you mean the last of your money you brought with you today”.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I made a mistake today and told my daughter the ferris wheel was ahead. She said she wanted to do that for her last ride. We get on and I realized it was the carousel, not the ferris wheel (terminology mistake on my part). She complained bitterly and loudly for two-thirds of the ride and my attempts to a) console her, b) commiserate with her, c) apologize to her, d) distract her and e) ignore her all didn’t work. So I went with f) snap at her. I was upset because a mother and her daughter were beside us and my child was ruining their ride because she wasn’t having the exact right kind of fun she happened to think she should be having at that very moment and it just wasn’t fair. What I didn’t know was if that one ride was the only one that mother could afford for her child and they’d looked forward to it for weeks. I unceremoniously pulled my daughter off the ride and forced her to walk quickly to a bench by our final stop, the Sky Car. I told her if she didn’t shape up and start being grateful she was going to have to walk the entire way back to the car…and it was a loooong way. I know there are other things in play going on in her mind. I know this because she is normally a very grateful and happy little girl. We’re working on figuring it out. I hope for her we can figure it out soon because I hate to see her upset so often for such little things.
We group won a stuffed panda thanks to my husband who shot the water into the target hole faster and more accurately than the other competitors. We ate the largest biscuits I remember ever having seen and had some of the mini donuts we like to get each and every time we visit the fair.
My children rode some of the rides they liked from their earlier visits and added to them with new ones before it got too busy. My daughter had a very difficult day with the, “it’s not fair” and “but I didn’t get to” or “but I wanted to” comments. This is in significant part related to her vision but is also based on where she is developmentally. That and the combination of parenting responses we’re giving her (faulty at best) isn’t helping. So she got in trouble several times and my husband’s and my tempers were strained and subsequently lost.
As I was taking my daughter to the bathroom during a break she stopped me and wanted to show me something on the concrete. She’s able and enjoys following painted lines but this was something new. She said, “that’s a ’T’ and that…is a ‘3’. What does that mean?” She was correct in what she saw and I told her it was a number of a parking space.
For the rest of the time we were there she was looking for these same types of markings. Number letter combinations that looked like this:
She had a hard time with the number ‘1’ at first because it had an addition on the top and a line at the bottom she wasn’t familiar with. My mother-in-law said she noticed it was easier for my daughter to see in shade versus when sunlight was on the markings. So not only can she write the digits zero through nine, she can recognize them, provided they’re large enough.
We left the fair by taking the sky car (horizontal ski lift) across the fairgrounds back to the entrance. Every year my children talk about going to the fair multiple times during the following twelve months and always look forward to the week when the fair finally arrives.
The Big Boy Update: My son asked Nana to buy him something as we were leaving the fair today. I knew he had wanted it because he’d been asking about it for the last two trips there. He and Nana got the item and they got it at a dollar off because Nana was out of cash. She told him, “okay, but this is the last of my money.” My son wasn’t overly fooled though as he said, “you mean the last of your money you brought with you today”.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I made a mistake today and told my daughter the ferris wheel was ahead. She said she wanted to do that for her last ride. We get on and I realized it was the carousel, not the ferris wheel (terminology mistake on my part). She complained bitterly and loudly for two-thirds of the ride and my attempts to a) console her, b) commiserate with her, c) apologize to her, d) distract her and e) ignore her all didn’t work. So I went with f) snap at her. I was upset because a mother and her daughter were beside us and my child was ruining their ride because she wasn’t having the exact right kind of fun she happened to think she should be having at that very moment and it just wasn’t fair. What I didn’t know was if that one ride was the only one that mother could afford for her child and they’d looked forward to it for weeks. I unceremoniously pulled my daughter off the ride and forced her to walk quickly to a bench by our final stop, the Sky Car. I told her if she didn’t shape up and start being grateful she was going to have to walk the entire way back to the car…and it was a loooong way. I know there are other things in play going on in her mind. I know this because she is normally a very grateful and happy little girl. We’re working on figuring it out. I hope for her we can figure it out soon because I hate to see her upset so often for such little things.
Saturday, October 21, 2017
I Like Invisible
I have a tidy problem. I think I’ve probably started a whole collection of blog posts over the years with that first sentence, mostly because it’s true. I like things to be put back up once they’re done being used. This is a disfunction of mine my husband deals with well. Sometimes I don’t know how he puts up with me though.
For example, the other day he cleaned the car in preparation for an electric car event he was going to. He got out the bucket, cloths and the washing mitt. Later that night I was in the laundry room when he walked in. I asked him what his plans were for the bucket (in the sink) and the washing mitt (hanging on top of the faucet). He told me they were drying, which was true, they weren’t completely dry.
I said to him, “can’t it dry in the garage where it usually goes?” He looked at me and said, “you like invisible, don’t you?” I had to agree, I like invisible, or at least having things put up and out of the way so it’s as invisible as can be managed.
The Big Boy Update: We were talking about things people were experts in the other day. My son must have been listening to what we were saying because he chimed in saying, “I’m an expert at YouTube watching”.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter’s vision fluctuates it would seem. Some days are better than others. At the fair last week she was able to see, even pointing it out without us telling her about it, a large balloon flying high above a vendor’s food booth. It was so far away we were very surprised she saw it. Then yesterday she was having a hard time seeing things all around. Today, she could discern colors better than she has in a while. I wish she could tell us how her vision changes.
Long Run: We ran twenty-four miles today in preparation for our upcoming marathon. We had some interruptions, causing us to run exceptionally slowly for overall time although our pace wasn’t that bad when we were running. One more long run, hopefully next weekend and then we’ll be ready hopefully for the marathon on November 9th.
For example, the other day he cleaned the car in preparation for an electric car event he was going to. He got out the bucket, cloths and the washing mitt. Later that night I was in the laundry room when he walked in. I asked him what his plans were for the bucket (in the sink) and the washing mitt (hanging on top of the faucet). He told me they were drying, which was true, they weren’t completely dry.
I said to him, “can’t it dry in the garage where it usually goes?” He looked at me and said, “you like invisible, don’t you?” I had to agree, I like invisible, or at least having things put up and out of the way so it’s as invisible as can be managed.
The Big Boy Update: We were talking about things people were experts in the other day. My son must have been listening to what we were saying because he chimed in saying, “I’m an expert at YouTube watching”.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter’s vision fluctuates it would seem. Some days are better than others. At the fair last week she was able to see, even pointing it out without us telling her about it, a large balloon flying high above a vendor’s food booth. It was so far away we were very surprised she saw it. Then yesterday she was having a hard time seeing things all around. Today, she could discern colors better than she has in a while. I wish she could tell us how her vision changes.
Long Run: We ran twenty-four miles today in preparation for our upcoming marathon. We had some interruptions, causing us to run exceptionally slowly for overall time although our pace wasn’t that bad when we were running. One more long run, hopefully next weekend and then we’ll be ready hopefully for the marathon on November 9th.
Friday, October 20, 2017
Lost Underpants
This afternoon my best friend called me and said she and two of her girls were going to one of the indoor trampoline places and did I want to go with our children? Of course we wanted to go, it’s a huge place with trampolines, an obstacle course, big swings that drop into foam pits and dodge ball courts. We got dressed from our morning cold weather clothes into shorts and met at her house a half-hour later, ready to go.
My children both loved the time. I spent a good bit with my daughter who needed a lot more management than my son. The floor and surrounding areas were lower contrast than she can see, but she liked it all, especially the silk climbing ropes and the high-wire swing. The swing she could hold on to with what looked like barely her fingertips far longer than people expected. I had to explain about the hanging on our door frames and her having a huge amount of strength in her fingers as a result. Fingers that are peeling from all the climbing in fact.
I taught my best friend some trampoline moves and helped my son with the same. They both had a hard time with confidence jumping and falling back squarely on their backs, mostly landing on their bottoms instead. My daughter tried very hard to do the same thing but she wasn’t able to follow me visually so I tried to show her physically what I was doing. She has more skill, but wasn’t able to put my words and demonstrations on her to the best of use.
No one really wanted to leave when our hour was up as the lights flashed and the announcement was made, but we had to get to dinner. My daughter was cross because I didn’t get to help her with one last swing, that being because I’d lost my cell phone in the foam pit after doing a complicated Cirque move with the silks one of the children had shown me. My watch pinged the phone and I was able to locate it quickly in the pit but time was still up.
As we were walking across the edge of the trampoline field to the exit I looked down and noticed a pair of lace underwear on the floor. Folks, if you know me, you know I’m not shy. So I held them up with people all around me and said aloud, “someone lost their underwear, would you look at that”. As I walked over to two young men who worked there I held them up more prominently and said, “I think someone lost their underwear, I’m not sure how you lose underwear on a trampoline, but I would have liked to see it.” The two guys looked at each other and were trying not to laugh.
They took the underwear to the front desk and all the staff there didn’t know what to do with them, saying they’d never had lost underwear before and didn’t know what to do with them. During this entire time my daughter asked me again and again if the underwear were mine. I kept telling her I wasn’t wearing underwear on account of the pants being exercise pants that didn’t require underwear. She wasn’t getting it so I kept explaining how I couldn’t have lost underwear because I didn’t have any. This got to be fairly funny as it went on, even after we’d gathered our things and gotten our shoes on.
I don’t know who’s lace underwear they were, but I don’t know if the person would have claimed them after all the comments being made about them from everyone around us.
The Big Boy Update: My son was working diligently on writing out the credits for our sitter, Morgan’s film so she could add them, in his handwriting, to the production. His sister was complaining because she wanted to be involved and saying something about it not being fair. She was bothering him so much that she got sent to her room. As my husband took her upstairs my son kept writing and without looking up said aloud, “this is so much better without Reese.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got some cotton candy at the fair the other day. She was busy making a sticky mess of both herself and the bag but not caring because she was having such a good time eating it when she told me, “every time I eat it it’s magic”. I didn’t understand what she meant until she explained that it just disappeared when she put it in her mouth. I told her that was one of the most magical parts about cotton candy.
My children both loved the time. I spent a good bit with my daughter who needed a lot more management than my son. The floor and surrounding areas were lower contrast than she can see, but she liked it all, especially the silk climbing ropes and the high-wire swing. The swing she could hold on to with what looked like barely her fingertips far longer than people expected. I had to explain about the hanging on our door frames and her having a huge amount of strength in her fingers as a result. Fingers that are peeling from all the climbing in fact.
I taught my best friend some trampoline moves and helped my son with the same. They both had a hard time with confidence jumping and falling back squarely on their backs, mostly landing on their bottoms instead. My daughter tried very hard to do the same thing but she wasn’t able to follow me visually so I tried to show her physically what I was doing. She has more skill, but wasn’t able to put my words and demonstrations on her to the best of use.
No one really wanted to leave when our hour was up as the lights flashed and the announcement was made, but we had to get to dinner. My daughter was cross because I didn’t get to help her with one last swing, that being because I’d lost my cell phone in the foam pit after doing a complicated Cirque move with the silks one of the children had shown me. My watch pinged the phone and I was able to locate it quickly in the pit but time was still up.
As we were walking across the edge of the trampoline field to the exit I looked down and noticed a pair of lace underwear on the floor. Folks, if you know me, you know I’m not shy. So I held them up with people all around me and said aloud, “someone lost their underwear, would you look at that”. As I walked over to two young men who worked there I held them up more prominently and said, “I think someone lost their underwear, I’m not sure how you lose underwear on a trampoline, but I would have liked to see it.” The two guys looked at each other and were trying not to laugh.
They took the underwear to the front desk and all the staff there didn’t know what to do with them, saying they’d never had lost underwear before and didn’t know what to do with them. During this entire time my daughter asked me again and again if the underwear were mine. I kept telling her I wasn’t wearing underwear on account of the pants being exercise pants that didn’t require underwear. She wasn’t getting it so I kept explaining how I couldn’t have lost underwear because I didn’t have any. This got to be fairly funny as it went on, even after we’d gathered our things and gotten our shoes on.
I don’t know who’s lace underwear they were, but I don’t know if the person would have claimed them after all the comments being made about them from everyone around us.
The Big Boy Update: My son was working diligently on writing out the credits for our sitter, Morgan’s film so she could add them, in his handwriting, to the production. His sister was complaining because she wanted to be involved and saying something about it not being fair. She was bothering him so much that she got sent to her room. As my husband took her upstairs my son kept writing and without looking up said aloud, “this is so much better without Reese.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got some cotton candy at the fair the other day. She was busy making a sticky mess of both herself and the bag but not caring because she was having such a good time eating it when she told me, “every time I eat it it’s magic”. I didn’t understand what she meant until she explained that it just disappeared when she put it in her mouth. I told her that was one of the most magical parts about cotton candy.
Thursday, October 19, 2017
Baby Deers and Bandaids
We went to the fair again today with my neighbor and her two children. My son and daughter were both excited to spend some time with their close friends going on rides and eating fair food. We arrived early and beat a lot of the crowds. The children went on the big slide gliding down on a burlap sack many times before we convinced them to move to something else.
It was a sunny day and the temperature, while initially chilly, had warmed up and the weather was quiet clement. I was thinking about how lovely the sunny day had turned out when suddenly I realized I hadn’t put sunscreen on my head scar. The one where I bashed my head open with a glass during our annual trip to New Jersey.
Crap. Drat. This isn’t good. The fresh scar was about the same color as my skin, in part because I’d been keeping the sun’s rays blocked from hitting it. A fresh scar will turn red with sun exposure. I’d been diligent in protecting the scar but this morning I’d forgotten sun screen.
I asked our friend if she had any sunscreen in her backpack or even a bandaid but she had nothing. So I went on a hunt for help. The information booth was close to us and the man there pointed to a second booth, saying they could help me there with any medical needs.
The second booth wasn’t really set up to be a true first aid I could tell because there was an older man dressed in what looked like a highway patrol uniform who greeted from the small, round booth. Did he have a bandaid, I asked? He looked at me slowly and pulled something out of his breast pocket, looked at it and then pulled out a second thing.
The second thing turned out to be a very, very tiny first aid kit. Without a word he extracted and handed me a bandaid. Then he asked me if I was okay. So I had to explain about the scar and the sunscreen. I told him all about the baby deer I had saved from the barbed wire, only to be kicked in the face by a hoof. Then I said, “do you have some scissors?”
I wasn’t particularly hopeful because this little booth didn’t look all that well-equipped. The main first aid station is significant and extensive, but it was a quarter mile away and I didn’t feel like walking that far.
But this man with his slow manner reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. While he did this I told him that baby deer story was complete fiction and the real truth was completely due to my clumsiness. Now that he understood that I wanted a small section of the sticky part of the bandaid to cover the scar to block the sun’s rays, he had a plan with the bandaid and his pocket knife.
I was to hold the bandaid on either side and he was going to slice down and cut me off a small section. I held and he cut. And then I put the small bit onto my scar with him making sure I had it positioned right. He took the rest of the bandaid and put it back into his tiny first aid kit and I thanked him. He didn’t have a lot to say but his booth had everything I needed.
The Big Boy Update: My son rode on a ride that spun around today at the fair. When he got off I asked him if the ride was fun. He told me, “I’m fine but a little bit of fainting”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: As we were leaving the fair today my daughter saw several new cars being showcased from local dealerships. I have no idea what prompted it but she told me, “it would be nice if we could win a new car for Nana for Christmas.” I told her that would definitely be nice. As we got home, literally one hour later, we got a text from Papa showing Nana standing beside a new car—a car we didn’t even know she was planning on getting. I guess my daughter will have to come up with another Christmas present for Nana now.
It was a sunny day and the temperature, while initially chilly, had warmed up and the weather was quiet clement. I was thinking about how lovely the sunny day had turned out when suddenly I realized I hadn’t put sunscreen on my head scar. The one where I bashed my head open with a glass during our annual trip to New Jersey.
Crap. Drat. This isn’t good. The fresh scar was about the same color as my skin, in part because I’d been keeping the sun’s rays blocked from hitting it. A fresh scar will turn red with sun exposure. I’d been diligent in protecting the scar but this morning I’d forgotten sun screen.
I asked our friend if she had any sunscreen in her backpack or even a bandaid but she had nothing. So I went on a hunt for help. The information booth was close to us and the man there pointed to a second booth, saying they could help me there with any medical needs.
The second booth wasn’t really set up to be a true first aid I could tell because there was an older man dressed in what looked like a highway patrol uniform who greeted from the small, round booth. Did he have a bandaid, I asked? He looked at me slowly and pulled something out of his breast pocket, looked at it and then pulled out a second thing.
The second thing turned out to be a very, very tiny first aid kit. Without a word he extracted and handed me a bandaid. Then he asked me if I was okay. So I had to explain about the scar and the sunscreen. I told him all about the baby deer I had saved from the barbed wire, only to be kicked in the face by a hoof. Then I said, “do you have some scissors?”
I wasn’t particularly hopeful because this little booth didn’t look all that well-equipped. The main first aid station is significant and extensive, but it was a quarter mile away and I didn’t feel like walking that far.
But this man with his slow manner reached into his pocket and pulled out a pocket knife. While he did this I told him that baby deer story was complete fiction and the real truth was completely due to my clumsiness. Now that he understood that I wanted a small section of the sticky part of the bandaid to cover the scar to block the sun’s rays, he had a plan with the bandaid and his pocket knife.
I was to hold the bandaid on either side and he was going to slice down and cut me off a small section. I held and he cut. And then I put the small bit onto my scar with him making sure I had it positioned right. He took the rest of the bandaid and put it back into his tiny first aid kit and I thanked him. He didn’t have a lot to say but his booth had everything I needed.
The Big Boy Update: My son rode on a ride that spun around today at the fair. When he got off I asked him if the ride was fun. He told me, “I’m fine but a little bit of fainting”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: As we were leaving the fair today my daughter saw several new cars being showcased from local dealerships. I have no idea what prompted it but she told me, “it would be nice if we could win a new car for Nana for Christmas.” I told her that would definitely be nice. As we got home, literally one hour later, we got a text from Papa showing Nana standing beside a new car—a car we didn’t even know she was planning on getting. I guess my daughter will have to come up with another Christmas present for Nana now.
Wednesday, October 18, 2017
I Can’t Find It
Most of the time I don’t get overly bothered by what my daughter has to do to go through her life unsighted. Sometimes things get to me though. Let me preface this story by saying first that this particular incident wasn’t an isolated situation involving only her and her lack of vision. Her brother had a hand in the matter, that being mostly one of irritation and aggravation.
I missed what started it but it was probably the two of them hurrying to get dressed to get downstairs for breakfast. This is interesting in and of itself because most days we’re trying to get them to hurry up and come down and they’re busy dawdling or delaying. Whatever happened caused my son though to arrive downstairs first, leaving my daughter to find her clothes and make it down second.
She’s typically down before him, climbing the door frames and waking us up. Yesterday she was not only second, she was last by a long shot. I don’t know what happened because I was one flight below, getting ready in the bathroom. What I did hear though, over and over, was her crying and saying, “I can’t find it. I can’t find it.”
I never found out what “it” was. It might have been a piece of clothing or more likely one of her stuffed animals. But it bothered me. She couldn’t find it and she was trying—only she couldn't see to locate it. We’ve been told the best thing based on her temperament is to let her work things like this out for herself. I also know a lot of this particular situation was more insult or anger rather than frustration or despair.
But it still bothered me to hear her so upset.
The Big Boy Update: My son was asked to help out a friend of our sitter, Morgan, with her video project by doing the voice work for a young boy talking to his grandpa (whom he looks up to) about why he drinks coffee in the morning. My son was very excited to do the voiceover work. He knows that his sister had done the voice acting for Morgan’s film this semester already. I got the script today and we say down to record tonight. My son took the job very seriously, and even read through the lines himself, practicing his reading. He’s looking forward to seeing the finished film and listening to his voice animated as a little boy named Greg.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter knows we have unlock codes on our phones and iPads. Her brother asked for a code for his iPad a while back. At first I wasn’t sure she could see the outline of the numbers on the black background but she can get them in relation to each other. When I came home from class tonight she proudly told me dad had set up a code she picked. She told me what the code was and how it was smilier, but different than mine. She even brought her iPad out to give me a demonstration of how she can unlock it now.
I missed what started it but it was probably the two of them hurrying to get dressed to get downstairs for breakfast. This is interesting in and of itself because most days we’re trying to get them to hurry up and come down and they’re busy dawdling or delaying. Whatever happened caused my son though to arrive downstairs first, leaving my daughter to find her clothes and make it down second.
She’s typically down before him, climbing the door frames and waking us up. Yesterday she was not only second, she was last by a long shot. I don’t know what happened because I was one flight below, getting ready in the bathroom. What I did hear though, over and over, was her crying and saying, “I can’t find it. I can’t find it.”
I never found out what “it” was. It might have been a piece of clothing or more likely one of her stuffed animals. But it bothered me. She couldn’t find it and she was trying—only she couldn't see to locate it. We’ve been told the best thing based on her temperament is to let her work things like this out for herself. I also know a lot of this particular situation was more insult or anger rather than frustration or despair.
But it still bothered me to hear her so upset.
The Big Boy Update: My son was asked to help out a friend of our sitter, Morgan, with her video project by doing the voice work for a young boy talking to his grandpa (whom he looks up to) about why he drinks coffee in the morning. My son was very excited to do the voiceover work. He knows that his sister had done the voice acting for Morgan’s film this semester already. I got the script today and we say down to record tonight. My son took the job very seriously, and even read through the lines himself, practicing his reading. He’s looking forward to seeing the finished film and listening to his voice animated as a little boy named Greg.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter knows we have unlock codes on our phones and iPads. Her brother asked for a code for his iPad a while back. At first I wasn’t sure she could see the outline of the numbers on the black background but she can get them in relation to each other. When I came home from class tonight she proudly told me dad had set up a code she picked. She told me what the code was and how it was smilier, but different than mine. She even brought her iPad out to give me a demonstration of how she can unlock it now.
Tuesday, October 17, 2017
A Solid Ten
We went to the fair yesterday with the children, Uncle Jonathan and Richard, one of my closest childhood friends, who was in town visiting while his mother had knee replacement surgery. Richard hadn’t been to the fair since he was a child and mostly had memories of looking at antiques with his parents.
With that as his only memory of the fair we swore not to look at a single antique—and we met that challenge. There was a side challenge of who could eat the most or at least most varied food and I think we all won on that front because we tried bites of everyone else’s choices.
The children were all about the rides and the cotton candy and we had both. The rides were upgraded in simplicity this year with an armband that let you ride for the full day at one price. We met and exceeded the price point easily with the low-traffic night and the exuberance of the children. I met and exceeded my calorie count for the day with the food, but that was my plan all along.
The children didn’t flag in energy and didn’t complain once. My son did cartwheels and spins for at least a third of the time and my daughter found something we didn’t expect—a green inflatable monkey. The very same monkey from two years ago at Myrtle Beach. She held on to that monkey and talked to it and had it squeak to us and was so happy to have “Monkey Version 2.0” in her life.
We had fun with Richard and I hope he had a fun time with us. It’s hard not to have a good time at the fair. As I was driving home I heard my son rating Richard in the back of the car, saying he’d give him, “a solid seven”. Richard got in on the game and for the remainder of the ride home people and things were given a “solid” something or other. Richard had us all laughing.
This morning our children were not having this whole bit about Richard having to leave. He is expected to return both soon and regularly with my children telling him they’d see him at Halloween, my daughter’s birthday, thanksgiving, my son’s birthday and Christmas.
Pretty much no one wanted Richard to leave. To our family, he’s a solid ten.
The Big Boy Update: My son is getting better at reading and sight words. We’re catching him up from being behind due to multiple things last year, several of them not his fault. I think he’s enjoying being able to read a whole book.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter told us tonight, “back in the old days when I couldn’t climb, you had to walk through the doorways and it was boring. I wanted to make it so you could go under my tunnels“
With that as his only memory of the fair we swore not to look at a single antique—and we met that challenge. There was a side challenge of who could eat the most or at least most varied food and I think we all won on that front because we tried bites of everyone else’s choices.
The children were all about the rides and the cotton candy and we had both. The rides were upgraded in simplicity this year with an armband that let you ride for the full day at one price. We met and exceeded the price point easily with the low-traffic night and the exuberance of the children. I met and exceeded my calorie count for the day with the food, but that was my plan all along.
The children didn’t flag in energy and didn’t complain once. My son did cartwheels and spins for at least a third of the time and my daughter found something we didn’t expect—a green inflatable monkey. The very same monkey from two years ago at Myrtle Beach. She held on to that monkey and talked to it and had it squeak to us and was so happy to have “Monkey Version 2.0” in her life.
We had fun with Richard and I hope he had a fun time with us. It’s hard not to have a good time at the fair. As I was driving home I heard my son rating Richard in the back of the car, saying he’d give him, “a solid seven”. Richard got in on the game and for the remainder of the ride home people and things were given a “solid” something or other. Richard had us all laughing.
This morning our children were not having this whole bit about Richard having to leave. He is expected to return both soon and regularly with my children telling him they’d see him at Halloween, my daughter’s birthday, thanksgiving, my son’s birthday and Christmas.
Pretty much no one wanted Richard to leave. To our family, he’s a solid ten.
The Big Boy Update: My son is getting better at reading and sight words. We’re catching him up from being behind due to multiple things last year, several of them not his fault. I think he’s enjoying being able to read a whole book.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter told us tonight, “back in the old days when I couldn’t climb, you had to walk through the doorways and it was boring. I wanted to make it so you could go under my tunnels“
Monday, October 16, 2017
But What About FaceTime
My daughter loves to call people on the Amazon Alexa. This morning she had her headphones on. Sometimes I hear her talk to her iPad saying, “Siri, how many days until November 11th?” November 11th is her birthday, a day she’s looking forward to as she’ll be the same age as her brother—six.
She asks Siri all sorts of little things like what the weather is going to be like and what time it is. Today she asked Siri to call her father. I told her she couldn’t make phone calls on her iPad, that she needed to do so on Alexa. And then she said, “but what about FaceTime?
We don’t FaceTime much and I think my daughter has only done so on a few occasions, but she was correct, she could FaceTime anyone with an Apple device so I took her iPad and enabled it. Then we took some time adding in people she might want to FaceTime, starting with her father and me. Next she wanted to call Papa and spent a bit of time talking to both Nana and Papa. She wanted to call Mimi and we’ve planned to do so later today or tomorrow.
When she was on the phone with my husband she was looking at his face, merely inches from her nose as she kept the iPad close to her. She said, “why are you blinking your eyes?” Then she said, “why are you opening your mouth?” Next she decided to play with his face, saying she was tickling his nose and ears. She was seeing something. I don’t know with what clarity, but she knows where the parts of the face are located and she could see them moving.
She can find icons on her iPad but she has to work hard to hit them in the right place to open the app, so I know she doesn’t have clear vision, but it’s something. And now she has the ability to call people visually on the iPad as well as verbally on the Amazon Alexa. So watch out folks, you might be getting a call soon from her.
The Big Boy Update: This morning in the car a song came on about free fall. I asked my son if he knew what free fall was and he told me he didn’t. I explained what it meant to go into orbit and that the astronauts were in free fall in the space station around our planet. We talked about how hard it was to get into orbit because of gravity. I told him, “gravity is one of the strongest forces in our universe” to which he said, “no mom, gravity is one of the weak forces”. My son just owned me on the subject of the fundamental forces of the universe. I had to agree with him that gravity was considered one of the weak forces—and yet, look at how strong it is. Could he imagine jumping into orbit? He agreed with me and said he wanted to see some YouTube videos of astronauts free falling when he got home from school.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter climbs the door frames with such frequency now that she causes her fingers to bleed. She’ll come over and ask if they’re bleeding when she feels the skin getting weak. It’s hard to stop her from climbing because she doesn’t even realize she’s suppose to be stopping when she’s got compromised fingers. Today she’s already been banned from more climbing and has asked more than once if her fingers have healed enough for her to climb again and wouldn’t bandaids help?
She asks Siri all sorts of little things like what the weather is going to be like and what time it is. Today she asked Siri to call her father. I told her she couldn’t make phone calls on her iPad, that she needed to do so on Alexa. And then she said, “but what about FaceTime?
We don’t FaceTime much and I think my daughter has only done so on a few occasions, but she was correct, she could FaceTime anyone with an Apple device so I took her iPad and enabled it. Then we took some time adding in people she might want to FaceTime, starting with her father and me. Next she wanted to call Papa and spent a bit of time talking to both Nana and Papa. She wanted to call Mimi and we’ve planned to do so later today or tomorrow.
When she was on the phone with my husband she was looking at his face, merely inches from her nose as she kept the iPad close to her. She said, “why are you blinking your eyes?” Then she said, “why are you opening your mouth?” Next she decided to play with his face, saying she was tickling his nose and ears. She was seeing something. I don’t know with what clarity, but she knows where the parts of the face are located and she could see them moving.
She can find icons on her iPad but she has to work hard to hit them in the right place to open the app, so I know she doesn’t have clear vision, but it’s something. And now she has the ability to call people visually on the iPad as well as verbally on the Amazon Alexa. So watch out folks, you might be getting a call soon from her.
The Big Boy Update: This morning in the car a song came on about free fall. I asked my son if he knew what free fall was and he told me he didn’t. I explained what it meant to go into orbit and that the astronauts were in free fall in the space station around our planet. We talked about how hard it was to get into orbit because of gravity. I told him, “gravity is one of the strongest forces in our universe” to which he said, “no mom, gravity is one of the weak forces”. My son just owned me on the subject of the fundamental forces of the universe. I had to agree with him that gravity was considered one of the weak forces—and yet, look at how strong it is. Could he imagine jumping into orbit? He agreed with me and said he wanted to see some YouTube videos of astronauts free falling when he got home from school.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter climbs the door frames with such frequency now that she causes her fingers to bleed. She’ll come over and ask if they’re bleeding when she feels the skin getting weak. It’s hard to stop her from climbing because she doesn’t even realize she’s suppose to be stopping when she’s got compromised fingers. Today she’s already been banned from more climbing and has asked more than once if her fingers have healed enough for her to climb again and wouldn’t bandaids help?
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Basket Beer
We had guests tonight. My mother’s best friend, JoAnn, and one of our long-time friends came to town because JoAnn is having knee replacement surgery tomorrow. JoAnn offered to get Chinese food for us so we could have dinner at home and do some catching up.
She and Carolyn arrived shortly before their son, one of my childhood best friends, made it to town so he could be with his mother for the surgery. Dinner arrived via delivery and we all sat down to a cacophony of conversation that can only happen when friends get together and children are added into the mix.
My children can be rambunctious but tonight they were on their best manners, raising their hands to have a turn to talk and not yelling, whining or quarreling. Richard brought some fresh cherry tomatoes from their garden and a bowl of them was passed around with my daughter eating the lion’s share of them.
Ice cream sandwiches were had by the children and those that were children at heart and then Aunt Jo left to get some sleep before her surgery tomorrow. My daughter and son very much like their adopted aunt and were sad to see her go. They also love Richard. My daughter gave him a nickname tonight because he brought a basket of tomatoes and drank beer with dinner. She loves making up nicknames for people and insisted his name was, “Richard Basket Beer” as she prepared for bed and brushed her teeth.
I think Richard is checking on her in her bed because she didn’t want to go to sleep without saying goodnight. We’re all hopeful for the best possible outcome with JoAnn’s surgery tomorrow. She’s been in a lot of pain and the knee replacement surgery is coming none too soon.
The Big Boy Update: My son wanted to know what would happen if the sun went away. I talked to him about the earth’s rotation and how the sun would come back around. No, that’s not what he meant, he told me; he meant if the sun completely went away. He suggested batteries and flash lights and I explained how that wouldn’t last that long and it would get cold. He suggested we turn up the heat and I said that we wouldn’t be able to keep the heat on without the sun’s energy to keep the earth warm on a daily basis. There wasn’t a satisfactory ending to the conversation but I tried to help him understand; I remembered wondering the same thing when I was a child.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter was eating lunch and asked, “does this meat come from chickens or cows?” My husband told her she was eating chicken. She said, “but I thought chickens came from cows?” My husband explained saying, “chickens come from chickens”. She then asked, “does this mean I’m eating the body of a chicken?” Yes, my husband told her. “Yuck” she said, and then continued to eat.
Gigi’s Declaration: My best friend’s daughter had a saying that made me laugh so much I had to write it down. She’s two days younger than my daughter and has been potty trained for several years now. But she isn’t completely trained she said as she told her mother after a particularly gassy day, “I’m potty trained, I’m not fart trained”.
She and Carolyn arrived shortly before their son, one of my childhood best friends, made it to town so he could be with his mother for the surgery. Dinner arrived via delivery and we all sat down to a cacophony of conversation that can only happen when friends get together and children are added into the mix.
My children can be rambunctious but tonight they were on their best manners, raising their hands to have a turn to talk and not yelling, whining or quarreling. Richard brought some fresh cherry tomatoes from their garden and a bowl of them was passed around with my daughter eating the lion’s share of them.
Ice cream sandwiches were had by the children and those that were children at heart and then Aunt Jo left to get some sleep before her surgery tomorrow. My daughter and son very much like their adopted aunt and were sad to see her go. They also love Richard. My daughter gave him a nickname tonight because he brought a basket of tomatoes and drank beer with dinner. She loves making up nicknames for people and insisted his name was, “Richard Basket Beer” as she prepared for bed and brushed her teeth.
I think Richard is checking on her in her bed because she didn’t want to go to sleep without saying goodnight. We’re all hopeful for the best possible outcome with JoAnn’s surgery tomorrow. She’s been in a lot of pain and the knee replacement surgery is coming none too soon.
The Big Boy Update: My son wanted to know what would happen if the sun went away. I talked to him about the earth’s rotation and how the sun would come back around. No, that’s not what he meant, he told me; he meant if the sun completely went away. He suggested batteries and flash lights and I explained how that wouldn’t last that long and it would get cold. He suggested we turn up the heat and I said that we wouldn’t be able to keep the heat on without the sun’s energy to keep the earth warm on a daily basis. There wasn’t a satisfactory ending to the conversation but I tried to help him understand; I remembered wondering the same thing when I was a child.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter was eating lunch and asked, “does this meat come from chickens or cows?” My husband told her she was eating chicken. She said, “but I thought chickens came from cows?” My husband explained saying, “chickens come from chickens”. She then asked, “does this mean I’m eating the body of a chicken?” Yes, my husband told her. “Yuck” she said, and then continued to eat.
Gigi’s Declaration: My best friend’s daughter had a saying that made me laugh so much I had to write it down. She’s two days younger than my daughter and has been potty trained for several years now. But she isn’t completely trained she said as she told her mother after a particularly gassy day, “I’m potty trained, I’m not fart trained”.
Saturday, October 14, 2017
VI Dinner
My husband and I went to dinner tonight with one of my daughter’s visual impairment teachers. We miss her, as she is no longer working with my daughter since kindergarten started. Raffaella asked to have a lunch with my daughter over the summer and at that time we also met Raffaella’s daughter, Lauren, who is also visually impaired.
Lauren is a sophomore at one of the local universities. She uses a cane and while she can read braille, she mostly uses technology to increase the size of the print and/or has things read to her with some VI software. Lauren is a computer science major and she and I have a lot of things in common we’ve found out. Tonight she sat for the children while her parents went out to dinner with us.
We had a lovely dinner getting to know Raffaella’s husband and catching up with her. We ended up talking a lot about Lauren’s experiences as a child growing up blind and what we might have to expect in the years to come. I don’t think it was any of our intentions to talk so much about blindness and the ramifications it has as a sensory impairment on a human being, but it was the thing we most had in common. And as parents, we can’t help but talk about our children.
My husband and I learned a lot. While there will be challenges, there is also comfort in knowing the hurdles are surmountable. It’s a comfort hearing about their daughter and the struggles she’s met and excelled beyond. She’s a perfectionist and is unsatisfied with anything but an A grade in anything. She’s in school but is also employed and does significant volunteer work on the side. She also has a boyfriend now (something her mother is still getting used to while being happy for her daughter at the same time).
When we returned home we heard laughter from upstairs. Lauren had fed them and cleaned up the dishes. She’d shown my daughter her speed reader program and talked to her about how she could possibly do things more easily on her iPad with some additional tools. My daughter didn’t want Lauren to leave, asking her if she could come back tomorrow. Lauren said she’d get me her schedule for November and we’re definitely looking forward to having her back.
The Big Boy Update: My son was drawing tonight and informed me, “I always put dynamite in my pictures.” It’s true, he likes to put a small diagram of at least one bundle of dynamite in pretty much anything he draws.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: We got a light pad for my daughter to draw on. It’s flat like an iPad but a bit bigger. You take a piece of paper and place it on top and you can either trace things or draw on it. Tonight my daughter said she wanted to do some drawing. I got out the pencils but she said she wanted a black sharpie—because she couldn’t see the pencil marks. She drew better than she normally does this way, probably because she can see what she’s drawn and can draw other things without drawing back on top of her existing work.
Not As Far As Planned: We ran 11.5 miles today. We were hoping for longer but time ran short on us. We’ll have to get in a 22 or 24 mile run soon because our marathon is less than a month away.
Lauren is a sophomore at one of the local universities. She uses a cane and while she can read braille, she mostly uses technology to increase the size of the print and/or has things read to her with some VI software. Lauren is a computer science major and she and I have a lot of things in common we’ve found out. Tonight she sat for the children while her parents went out to dinner with us.
We had a lovely dinner getting to know Raffaella’s husband and catching up with her. We ended up talking a lot about Lauren’s experiences as a child growing up blind and what we might have to expect in the years to come. I don’t think it was any of our intentions to talk so much about blindness and the ramifications it has as a sensory impairment on a human being, but it was the thing we most had in common. And as parents, we can’t help but talk about our children.
My husband and I learned a lot. While there will be challenges, there is also comfort in knowing the hurdles are surmountable. It’s a comfort hearing about their daughter and the struggles she’s met and excelled beyond. She’s a perfectionist and is unsatisfied with anything but an A grade in anything. She’s in school but is also employed and does significant volunteer work on the side. She also has a boyfriend now (something her mother is still getting used to while being happy for her daughter at the same time).
When we returned home we heard laughter from upstairs. Lauren had fed them and cleaned up the dishes. She’d shown my daughter her speed reader program and talked to her about how she could possibly do things more easily on her iPad with some additional tools. My daughter didn’t want Lauren to leave, asking her if she could come back tomorrow. Lauren said she’d get me her schedule for November and we’re definitely looking forward to having her back.
The Big Boy Update: My son was drawing tonight and informed me, “I always put dynamite in my pictures.” It’s true, he likes to put a small diagram of at least one bundle of dynamite in pretty much anything he draws.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: We got a light pad for my daughter to draw on. It’s flat like an iPad but a bit bigger. You take a piece of paper and place it on top and you can either trace things or draw on it. Tonight my daughter said she wanted to do some drawing. I got out the pencils but she said she wanted a black sharpie—because she couldn’t see the pencil marks. She drew better than she normally does this way, probably because she can see what she’s drawn and can draw other things without drawing back on top of her existing work.
Not As Far As Planned: We ran 11.5 miles today. We were hoping for longer but time ran short on us. We’ll have to get in a 22 or 24 mile run soon because our marathon is less than a month away.
Friday, October 13, 2017
All Day
There are two types of children in this house. We have the “all day” sort who could happily play on his iPad all day and is in fact unhappy when he’s told he has to take a break and do something in, “the real world”.
My daughter on the other hand is less-interested in the iPad. I think there’s a strong correlation to the lack of vision because while she likes playing apps, there’s a significant amount of frustration because she can’t see what the app wants her to do. She’s reasonably understanding about things, but she needs a lot of help from adults or friends to figure out how an app works. Once she knows the general process of a particular game she can repeat it, but it’s hard to have fun doing the same things again and again and new games tend to be more frustration than they’re worth many days.
She’ll also watch shows, but her ability to watch shows is far shorter than her brother’s is. She’ll do a few shows and then want to do something that involves a live person that talks back and interacts with her and helps her through the things she can’t see.
And as a result of this we have two common sayings in the house that come from my children. I’ll let you guess which words come from which child. One says, “it has not been all day!” while the other one says, “but I did that all day already”.
The Big Boy Update: I was given some very bad news from my son yesterday. He’s had a girlfriend for over a year-and-a-half now—this girlfriend being the actual college-aged girlfriend of his cousin, Kyle. He doesn’t get to see Madison very often and I’m guessing the long-distanced nature of the relationship finally wore on him because he informed me, “I have a new girlfriend now. I’m leaving Madison for her. I’ll tell you her name later.” I texted Madison and Kyle because I thought they should know.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I told my daughter she could go to see if Rayan and Keira were available to play this afternoon. They live two houses over. My daughter told me. “I just get lost cause I don’t see the house. I don’t run anymore”. As I encouraged her to try again I tried to keep my voice from cracking because she said it so calmly, with an air of acceptance that it made me sad but proud of her at the same time.
My daughter on the other hand is less-interested in the iPad. I think there’s a strong correlation to the lack of vision because while she likes playing apps, there’s a significant amount of frustration because she can’t see what the app wants her to do. She’s reasonably understanding about things, but she needs a lot of help from adults or friends to figure out how an app works. Once she knows the general process of a particular game she can repeat it, but it’s hard to have fun doing the same things again and again and new games tend to be more frustration than they’re worth many days.
She’ll also watch shows, but her ability to watch shows is far shorter than her brother’s is. She’ll do a few shows and then want to do something that involves a live person that talks back and interacts with her and helps her through the things she can’t see.
And as a result of this we have two common sayings in the house that come from my children. I’ll let you guess which words come from which child. One says, “it has not been all day!” while the other one says, “but I did that all day already”.
The Big Boy Update: I was given some very bad news from my son yesterday. He’s had a girlfriend for over a year-and-a-half now—this girlfriend being the actual college-aged girlfriend of his cousin, Kyle. He doesn’t get to see Madison very often and I’m guessing the long-distanced nature of the relationship finally wore on him because he informed me, “I have a new girlfriend now. I’m leaving Madison for her. I’ll tell you her name later.” I texted Madison and Kyle because I thought they should know.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I told my daughter she could go to see if Rayan and Keira were available to play this afternoon. They live two houses over. My daughter told me. “I just get lost cause I don’t see the house. I don’t run anymore”. As I encouraged her to try again I tried to keep my voice from cracking because she said it so calmly, with an air of acceptance that it made me sad but proud of her at the same time.
Thursday, October 12, 2017
Movie Help
Our children’s favorite sitter is working on a film for one of her classes at school this semester. She asked my daughter if she would be willing to voice the little girl in the short clip. I don’t think my daughter really understood what Morgan was asking her to do but she happily agreed and a week later Morgan’s brother, Tristan, came over with a short script and recorded while my daughter repeated lines back to him.
As the semester has progressed, Morgan has updated us on the film and we’ve been able to watch it evolve from sketched stills with the audio track from my daughter to iterations of graphics as she’s finished them. It’s interesting to see the progression given how little I know, bordering on none, about filmmaking and graphic art.
And while my daughter can’t see the film, she’s asked enough questions about what’s happening and can describe what’s about to come next. She’s also done some re-recording of the lines because she was a little hard to understand in parts.
I’ve been trying to get her to laugh for the end of the film with little luck but today I took her to the chiropractor and she wanted to play the shark game where I try to get her, but only when she puts a foot on the floor off the adjustment table. She laughs the entire time we play this game so I got a good thirty seconds that might be useable and sent it to Morgan.
Morgan also asked if the children would like to help with the title and credits. She’d send what they needed to write out and she’d use their handwriting (immature an inaccurate, just right as the film’s only character is a little girl). My son was pretty excited by the prospect because this would put him in the film as well.
Today my daughter worked very hard on writing the letters, “Puddle Jumper” for the title. She’s lost a lot of ability to write with the vision loss but she does do well with practice. My son got home and started working on the other credits, but not at first. He insisted on writing the title to the Word document, which was long and wasn’t part of the credits. He got tired and decided to do more tomorrow.
But tonight before bed both children wanted to write a little more. So now I have something to send to Morgan. Tomorrow they both want to work on writing the credits for her movie some more.
The Big Boy Update: My son was trying to focus on writing out the credit lines for Morgan’s movie today but was having a difficult time. He asked me, “is there a machine that can clean your mind?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter lives a good portion of her day climbing and hanging from our door frames. This morning she said, “this door is bleeding.” I came to see what she was talking about to find she’d discovered a piece of painters tape at the top of the arch that hadn’t been pulled off. When I told her what it was and that she could help by removing it she let me know about other places where tape was left on other doors. She went to one and immediately pulled off a small bit of tape.
As the semester has progressed, Morgan has updated us on the film and we’ve been able to watch it evolve from sketched stills with the audio track from my daughter to iterations of graphics as she’s finished them. It’s interesting to see the progression given how little I know, bordering on none, about filmmaking and graphic art.
And while my daughter can’t see the film, she’s asked enough questions about what’s happening and can describe what’s about to come next. She’s also done some re-recording of the lines because she was a little hard to understand in parts.
I’ve been trying to get her to laugh for the end of the film with little luck but today I took her to the chiropractor and she wanted to play the shark game where I try to get her, but only when she puts a foot on the floor off the adjustment table. She laughs the entire time we play this game so I got a good thirty seconds that might be useable and sent it to Morgan.
Morgan also asked if the children would like to help with the title and credits. She’d send what they needed to write out and she’d use their handwriting (immature an inaccurate, just right as the film’s only character is a little girl). My son was pretty excited by the prospect because this would put him in the film as well.
Today my daughter worked very hard on writing the letters, “Puddle Jumper” for the title. She’s lost a lot of ability to write with the vision loss but she does do well with practice. My son got home and started working on the other credits, but not at first. He insisted on writing the title to the Word document, which was long and wasn’t part of the credits. He got tired and decided to do more tomorrow.
But tonight before bed both children wanted to write a little more. So now I have something to send to Morgan. Tomorrow they both want to work on writing the credits for her movie some more.
The Big Boy Update: My son was trying to focus on writing out the credit lines for Morgan’s movie today but was having a difficult time. He asked me, “is there a machine that can clean your mind?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter lives a good portion of her day climbing and hanging from our door frames. This morning she said, “this door is bleeding.” I came to see what she was talking about to find she’d discovered a piece of painters tape at the top of the arch that hadn’t been pulled off. When I told her what it was and that she could help by removing it she let me know about other places where tape was left on other doors. She went to one and immediately pulled off a small bit of tape.
Wednesday, October 11, 2017
Privacy
My children are at different stages of privacy at their current ages. Up until recently neither of them particularly cared if they were clothed or naked and if anyone saw them. My son’s started to have opinions about who and when people can see him naked.
He’s inconsistent about it, forgetting a lot of the time that he’s gotten body conscious and running pell mell into the bedroom to jump up and down on the bed while he does power ranger poses watching himself in the mirror, unconcerned about his naked body. Other times he yells, “privacy!” and tries to hide behind a bed or chair to change or get dressed.
On the trip home from Myrtle Beach we had to get the children into pajamas and he nearly had a fit that the car door was open and two men twenty parking spots away who were smoking were looking through my husband’s body as he blocked the door. How my son got his clothes on while he tried to hide on the floor is beyond me, but he managed it eventually.
My daughter on the other hand hasn’t gotten to the naked privacy stage yet. This evening she wanted to wash off the chalk on the driveway. After some time with a hose she had cleaned off the chalk and thoroughly wet herself entire body in the process. I had a towel at the front door. While she got undressed just inside the door I asked if the water had been turned off to the hose.
She said no, so I went out to roll up the hose and turn off the water at the valve. I turned around to see her completely naked behind me with her towel stretched out in cape fashion. She asked me if I needed help and dropped the towel so she could assist.
I’m wondering if my daughter will start to care about who “sees” her naked. She can’t see other people naked, will she care if they see her?
The Big Boy Update: This weekend I saw my son dash into the bedroom with his headphones on. He’d seen my husband’s noise-cancelling headphones on the bed which he only uses when we’re out of town. Apparently my son had an idea because he grabbed his sister’s headphones, his father’s headphones and ran out of the room with all three, saying, “I’m going to make a super headphones!”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter gave Uncle Jonathan one of her hair ties a while back. Uncle Jonathan told me today he wore her hair tie in the Chicago marathon. I didn’t realize this but he told me, “That hair tie has now run Rock N Roll Raleigh, NY, and Chicago. Hopefully in April Boston. It will have been on all 3 U.S. majors!” Wow. Seriously, wow. I don’t think my daughter is old enough to appreciate how cool her hair tie has now become, thanks to her favorite Uncle Jonathan.
He’s inconsistent about it, forgetting a lot of the time that he’s gotten body conscious and running pell mell into the bedroom to jump up and down on the bed while he does power ranger poses watching himself in the mirror, unconcerned about his naked body. Other times he yells, “privacy!” and tries to hide behind a bed or chair to change or get dressed.
On the trip home from Myrtle Beach we had to get the children into pajamas and he nearly had a fit that the car door was open and two men twenty parking spots away who were smoking were looking through my husband’s body as he blocked the door. How my son got his clothes on while he tried to hide on the floor is beyond me, but he managed it eventually.
My daughter on the other hand hasn’t gotten to the naked privacy stage yet. This evening she wanted to wash off the chalk on the driveway. After some time with a hose she had cleaned off the chalk and thoroughly wet herself entire body in the process. I had a towel at the front door. While she got undressed just inside the door I asked if the water had been turned off to the hose.
She said no, so I went out to roll up the hose and turn off the water at the valve. I turned around to see her completely naked behind me with her towel stretched out in cape fashion. She asked me if I needed help and dropped the towel so she could assist.
I’m wondering if my daughter will start to care about who “sees” her naked. She can’t see other people naked, will she care if they see her?
The Big Boy Update: This weekend I saw my son dash into the bedroom with his headphones on. He’d seen my husband’s noise-cancelling headphones on the bed which he only uses when we’re out of town. Apparently my son had an idea because he grabbed his sister’s headphones, his father’s headphones and ran out of the room with all three, saying, “I’m going to make a super headphones!”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter gave Uncle Jonathan one of her hair ties a while back. Uncle Jonathan told me today he wore her hair tie in the Chicago marathon. I didn’t realize this but he told me, “That hair tie has now run Rock N Roll Raleigh, NY, and Chicago. Hopefully in April Boston. It will have been on all 3 U.S. majors!” Wow. Seriously, wow. I don’t think my daughter is old enough to appreciate how cool her hair tie has now become, thanks to her favorite Uncle Jonathan.
Tuesday, October 10, 2017
Migraine
I wish I understood why I get migraines. Sometimes I can figure out why because there’s a big looming pointy object of stress that must be colored glaring red or something because of the discomfort it causes me. Then at other times I get a headache and look all around and see nothing but serene horizon in all directions and wonder if something is hiding.
Regardless the reason, I have a headache tonight. Today my neck hurt a lot and my arm was going numb. Maybe it was related, I’m not sure.
At any rate, I’m going to bed now and hopefully tomorrow I will be chipper and will have forgotten all about the discomfort of yesterday.
The Big Boy Update: My son was being assisted by Nana and Papa and my husband in building a model car the other day while we were on vacation. There was one part that was apparently tricky because the adults were discussing it. My son settled the matter by saying to Nana, “let a professional do it.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My husband told the children on the wet playground, “okay guys, you’ve got ten minutes.” Immediately my daughter slipped and got her pants wet. She very crossly said in a whiny voice, “that’s why I don’t like it when you give me ten minutes!”
Regardless the reason, I have a headache tonight. Today my neck hurt a lot and my arm was going numb. Maybe it was related, I’m not sure.
At any rate, I’m going to bed now and hopefully tomorrow I will be chipper and will have forgotten all about the discomfort of yesterday.
The Big Boy Update: My son was being assisted by Nana and Papa and my husband in building a model car the other day while we were on vacation. There was one part that was apparently tricky because the adults were discussing it. My son settled the matter by saying to Nana, “let a professional do it.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My husband told the children on the wet playground, “okay guys, you’ve got ten minutes.” Immediately my daughter slipped and got her pants wet. She very crossly said in a whiny voice, “that’s why I don’t like it when you give me ten minutes!”
Monday, October 9, 2017
Infinity
My children are still interested in counting. Counting as it relates to adding or subtracting numbers, comparing numbers, counting by two’s or other increments or just plain counting in and of itself. My daughter likes to write the numbers one through one hundred, if possible, before her van gets to the house in the morning before school using sidewalk chalk we leave at the front door. She also likes to see how quickly she can count to one hundred as well, rattling off the numbers in a blur of syllables.
One of the popular questions my children like to ask is what number is biggest. For a while my son’s answer to this question was, “a google trillion”. Then they learned about infinity. They ask the question every child asks, which is, “what’s larger than infinity?” Infinity plus one isn’t bigger, we tell them, or infinity plus infinity. It’s confounding to a child to not have an answer they can comprehend but unfortunately the truth sometimes isn’t easy to understand.
There aren’t a lot of very young memories we retain from our very young childhood as adults but I remember learning counting and being very pleased with myself when I could count fairly high. My mother was supportive of my reciting number after number to her, hoping for her praise (which she always gave) and then going again, this time for an even higher count than the time before.
I remember the novelty wearing off one day when I realized I’d mastered the whole concept of adding one to the prior number because I knew with certainty what the next number would be. The mystery was gone, I could do it, I could count to one thousand (I think I did), one million (I definitely didn’t) and even to infinity (which I most certainly didn’t). The mystery was gone and I’d conquered numbers, or at least I had until I got into multiplication and division in a few years time.
My daughter is on the cusp of getting that very concept right now. She’s still interested in counting but I can see it getting easier and easier for her each time. Soon enough she’ll be asking for my help with differential equations and I’ll have to explain how I don’t remember and isn’t it great that she’s so much smarter than I ever was.
The Big Boy Update: I decided tonight that my son is unequivocally going to be a gamer. He was in the car and we were on the way home from Myrtle beach. He was doing some game or another on his iPad when he commented out loud, “wow, so much lag”.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: At dinner tonight on the way home from Myrtle Beach we were eating dinner when my daughter called out to me saying, “Nana”. I said I was mom and not Nana. She talked to herself in such a quiet voice that only my husband heard but she said, “I’m sorry, I mean Mommy; I’ve been with Nana all day.” Then she tried again, this time saying out loud, “Mommy?”
One of the popular questions my children like to ask is what number is biggest. For a while my son’s answer to this question was, “a google trillion”. Then they learned about infinity. They ask the question every child asks, which is, “what’s larger than infinity?” Infinity plus one isn’t bigger, we tell them, or infinity plus infinity. It’s confounding to a child to not have an answer they can comprehend but unfortunately the truth sometimes isn’t easy to understand.
There aren’t a lot of very young memories we retain from our very young childhood as adults but I remember learning counting and being very pleased with myself when I could count fairly high. My mother was supportive of my reciting number after number to her, hoping for her praise (which she always gave) and then going again, this time for an even higher count than the time before.
I remember the novelty wearing off one day when I realized I’d mastered the whole concept of adding one to the prior number because I knew with certainty what the next number would be. The mystery was gone, I could do it, I could count to one thousand (I think I did), one million (I definitely didn’t) and even to infinity (which I most certainly didn’t). The mystery was gone and I’d conquered numbers, or at least I had until I got into multiplication and division in a few years time.
My daughter is on the cusp of getting that very concept right now. She’s still interested in counting but I can see it getting easier and easier for her each time. Soon enough she’ll be asking for my help with differential equations and I’ll have to explain how I don’t remember and isn’t it great that she’s so much smarter than I ever was.
The Big Boy Update: I decided tonight that my son is unequivocally going to be a gamer. He was in the car and we were on the way home from Myrtle beach. He was doing some game or another on his iPad when he commented out loud, “wow, so much lag”.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: At dinner tonight on the way home from Myrtle Beach we were eating dinner when my daughter called out to me saying, “Nana”. I said I was mom and not Nana. She talked to herself in such a quiet voice that only my husband heard but she said, “I’m sorry, I mean Mommy; I’ve been with Nana all day.” Then she tried again, this time saying out loud, “Mommy?”
Sunday, October 8, 2017
About Today
I don’t typically do the, “this is what happened today” kind of posts. I try to pick one thing and write about it in detail but today was fun and there were some great comments by the children, plus we’re on vacation so here goes.
This morning I got to sleep late (thanks Nana and Papa) and woke up to the enticing smell that is cooked bacon. I came out into the living room to find my children raring to go do something outside of the condo. They’d been to my in-law’s timeshare before and they had a list of things they wanted to do for the day. They’d had a tea party and breakfast already, the tea party having involved their stuffed animals, Nana’s “Flower Sitter” character and the tea set my husband had as a child—all things Nana had brought on the trip at their request.
We got ready in stops and starts, with a lot of the stops being due to my children not wanting to get dressed, having my daughter stop climbing the door frames and getting both of them to brush their teeth. The adults were finishing getting ready which involved a lot of discussion when my daughter had about had it with us dallying. She let us know this by saying, “can we go now? This is all not important.”
We went down to the play structure and could have easily lost them in the castle for a few hours but we were able to pull them away from this:
by telling them there were activities at the children’s center. My daughter made a frog stuffed animal following the Build-a-Bear process of stuffing the body with lots of stuffing, placing a small heart inside and then closing it up. The stuffing landed squarely on my shoulders due to the infernal difficulty of getting the stuffing all the way into the limbs of the frog she selected. But it was done eventually and she has been playing with the frog all day when we’ve been back in the room and the door frames haven’t been calling to her too strongly.
My son put together a model race car. That job it turned out needed not one adult’s assistance, but three, occupying my husband, grandpa and Nana to get the job done. My son raced the car around the race track outside the play room area and is now back in our room, but he has plans for it when we return home I hear.
We went next to a shopping/amusement area and spent the next several hours in an upside-down house doing all kinds of interesting things. Interesting if you’re sighted. Loud and scary if you’re blind. My daughter did the best she could, avoiding loud things (mostly everything) and being cautious of things I think she would have liked but wasn’t sure about because we couldn’t adequately explain them to her.
Some things she did like were included the large keyboard you played with your feet (or ran back and forth on it), the simulation roller coaster (she laughed and screamed the whole time) and the overhead suspension course we all went on. For the suspension course we all got strapped into harnesses and went above the attractions and went from platform to platform on walkways, bridges, planks and ropes. She couldn’t see well, but she trusted she was harnessed in and had liked it until we said it was time to go.
We went very early to a buffet seafood dinner and all overate. My son overate on crab legs and shrimp and then was quite cross at us because we said he couldn’t take the crab shells home with him on account of they’d smell terrible in the morning. My daughter wasn’t sure her Shirley Temple really had a cherry in it and the rest of us declared that two plates full of dessert might have been in excess but it was worth it.
The rest of my family is now either at the treehouse in the dark or swimming in the lazy pool, I’m not sure which, I was on the phone with my mother and missed where they were off to when they left. Just as well because I’m here and they’re there and I’m getting in the tub as soon as I finish this post. Vacation day one was a success I think all around.
The Big Boy Update: At dinner tonight my son informed Papa, “you know, I was five when I first started thinking.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: We have a handicapped placard for our cars now but haven’t used it until today. We arrived at the very busy parking lot to go to the amusement area in heavy rain mid-day and decided it would be safer to park closer to the entrance. My daughter does listen, but sometimes we think it may be a good thing to have.
This morning I got to sleep late (thanks Nana and Papa) and woke up to the enticing smell that is cooked bacon. I came out into the living room to find my children raring to go do something outside of the condo. They’d been to my in-law’s timeshare before and they had a list of things they wanted to do for the day. They’d had a tea party and breakfast already, the tea party having involved their stuffed animals, Nana’s “Flower Sitter” character and the tea set my husband had as a child—all things Nana had brought on the trip at their request.
We got ready in stops and starts, with a lot of the stops being due to my children not wanting to get dressed, having my daughter stop climbing the door frames and getting both of them to brush their teeth. The adults were finishing getting ready which involved a lot of discussion when my daughter had about had it with us dallying. She let us know this by saying, “can we go now? This is all not important.”
We went down to the play structure and could have easily lost them in the castle for a few hours but we were able to pull them away from this:
by telling them there were activities at the children’s center. My daughter made a frog stuffed animal following the Build-a-Bear process of stuffing the body with lots of stuffing, placing a small heart inside and then closing it up. The stuffing landed squarely on my shoulders due to the infernal difficulty of getting the stuffing all the way into the limbs of the frog she selected. But it was done eventually and she has been playing with the frog all day when we’ve been back in the room and the door frames haven’t been calling to her too strongly.
My son put together a model race car. That job it turned out needed not one adult’s assistance, but three, occupying my husband, grandpa and Nana to get the job done. My son raced the car around the race track outside the play room area and is now back in our room, but he has plans for it when we return home I hear.
We went next to a shopping/amusement area and spent the next several hours in an upside-down house doing all kinds of interesting things. Interesting if you’re sighted. Loud and scary if you’re blind. My daughter did the best she could, avoiding loud things (mostly everything) and being cautious of things I think she would have liked but wasn’t sure about because we couldn’t adequately explain them to her.
Some things she did like were included the large keyboard you played with your feet (or ran back and forth on it), the simulation roller coaster (she laughed and screamed the whole time) and the overhead suspension course we all went on. For the suspension course we all got strapped into harnesses and went above the attractions and went from platform to platform on walkways, bridges, planks and ropes. She couldn’t see well, but she trusted she was harnessed in and had liked it until we said it was time to go.
We went very early to a buffet seafood dinner and all overate. My son overate on crab legs and shrimp and then was quite cross at us because we said he couldn’t take the crab shells home with him on account of they’d smell terrible in the morning. My daughter wasn’t sure her Shirley Temple really had a cherry in it and the rest of us declared that two plates full of dessert might have been in excess but it was worth it.
The rest of my family is now either at the treehouse in the dark or swimming in the lazy pool, I’m not sure which, I was on the phone with my mother and missed where they were off to when they left. Just as well because I’m here and they’re there and I’m getting in the tub as soon as I finish this post. Vacation day one was a success I think all around.
The Big Boy Update: At dinner tonight my son informed Papa, “you know, I was five when I first started thinking.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: We have a handicapped placard for our cars now but haven’t used it until today. We arrived at the very busy parking lot to go to the amusement area in heavy rain mid-day and decided it would be safer to park closer to the entrance. My daughter does listen, but sometimes we think it may be a good thing to have.
Saturday, October 7, 2017
Myrtle Beach
We’re on the way to visit my in-laws at Myrtle Beach today. They have a time share there they’ve been going to for many years. They’ve asked us to join them in the past and my children have good memories of the time we spent with them there.
I have specific memories of the last time we went, which was two years ago, mostly because it was right after my daughter lost her vision. But let me digress for a minute and talk about my travel packing lists…
This might sound like way too much organization but I need to compartmentalize things so I don’t have so much floating around in my head. I think I thought for years that I had a bad memory for certain things, and perhaps I do, but I think now after working with our play therapist that it’s a way of reducing clutter in my mind. I write things down so I don’t have to keep them in my mind—and because I know it’s documented somewhere I don’t have to worry about it.
My son was having anxiety—a larger and more complex situation—Dhruti had said and because he had so much going on in his mind he didn’t know how to organize it and that was giving him stress, something a five-year-old shouldn’t have. She said if we helped him by writing things down like dates on a calendar, he would know he could find the information when he needed to and it would be one less thing on his mind. And it worked. That, among other things helped my son a lot.
Back to the travel packing lists though, this is something I’ve done for years. It’s a list of all the things we need to bring on any given trip as well as things we need to do beforehand like run the dishwasher, find someone to get the mail and put the bread in the refrigerator. There are other things on the list that we might forget, like bringing bathing suits, which we’ve forgotten before. It includes things specific to the trip based on the location we’re traveling to such as bedding when we go to New Jersey to visit my brother– and sister–in-law.
When we go on a new trip I take create a new travel packing list, copying the list from the last trip or more commonly by copying the list from the last trip to that location. I have a folder of all the lists for all our trips from the last several years. It’s interesting to look back and see how much we had to take for trips when my children we younger and needed things like a crib, pacifiers, bottles, diapers, etc. These days the list is a lot shorter. Soon enough the children will be responsible for completely packing themselves—which will be nice.
Back on topic to the trip to Myrtle Beach for this weekend though, it’s been two years since we last went. Two years ago was only months after my daughter had had an infection in her eyes, causing catastrophic damage she would never recover from. We didn’t know what she could see and she had been in surgery every two weeks to monitor and manage her detached retinas. We didn’t know how to handle a blind child and we were all depressed at the unknown future of her vision.
I remember some things specifically from the trip. One was of going up in a large ferris wheel. I was hoping my daughter would be able to see something, anything, as we got up high. I was so sad to realize she couldn’t even tell which direction the ocean was and that large building rooftops were not discernible to her.
I also remember one thing that still makes me smile. We were walking down the boardwalk and a lady had an inflated green monkey. She asked if my daughter would like it because she had won it and wanted to share it with someone who would like to have it. My daughter did want the monkey. It squeaked when she squeezed it and she played with it all weekend.
We still have that monkey. It lived in the children’s bedroom for a long, long time but eventually was relegated to the storage room beyond their closet. We pulled it out a few times and he was played with again (he never got named). Then he got a hole. The deflated monkey got put in a box of toys because I couldn’t bear to throw it away. Just two days ago my daughter found the green monkey and I tried to re inflate it, only to find out the hole was significant. I didn’t have time to find and patch the hole so I put it away for later.
Maybe this trip we’ll get another green monkey.
The Big Boy Update: My daughter wants to play with my son in the car right now. He isn’t interested. She has been persistent but it’s not working as my son just said to her, “I’ve had enough of you.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I took my daughter rock climbing the other day for the first time. She was hesitant at first but once she got the hang of it she was quite good. There were challenges mostly because she couldn’t see where the handholds were but she didn’t give up. By the time we’d been there for an hour she had decided she liked it, saying, “I love to climb. This is even better than a water slide.”
I have specific memories of the last time we went, which was two years ago, mostly because it was right after my daughter lost her vision. But let me digress for a minute and talk about my travel packing lists…
This might sound like way too much organization but I need to compartmentalize things so I don’t have so much floating around in my head. I think I thought for years that I had a bad memory for certain things, and perhaps I do, but I think now after working with our play therapist that it’s a way of reducing clutter in my mind. I write things down so I don’t have to keep them in my mind—and because I know it’s documented somewhere I don’t have to worry about it.
My son was having anxiety—a larger and more complex situation—Dhruti had said and because he had so much going on in his mind he didn’t know how to organize it and that was giving him stress, something a five-year-old shouldn’t have. She said if we helped him by writing things down like dates on a calendar, he would know he could find the information when he needed to and it would be one less thing on his mind. And it worked. That, among other things helped my son a lot.
Back to the travel packing lists though, this is something I’ve done for years. It’s a list of all the things we need to bring on any given trip as well as things we need to do beforehand like run the dishwasher, find someone to get the mail and put the bread in the refrigerator. There are other things on the list that we might forget, like bringing bathing suits, which we’ve forgotten before. It includes things specific to the trip based on the location we’re traveling to such as bedding when we go to New Jersey to visit my brother– and sister–in-law.
When we go on a new trip I take create a new travel packing list, copying the list from the last trip or more commonly by copying the list from the last trip to that location. I have a folder of all the lists for all our trips from the last several years. It’s interesting to look back and see how much we had to take for trips when my children we younger and needed things like a crib, pacifiers, bottles, diapers, etc. These days the list is a lot shorter. Soon enough the children will be responsible for completely packing themselves—which will be nice.
Back on topic to the trip to Myrtle Beach for this weekend though, it’s been two years since we last went. Two years ago was only months after my daughter had had an infection in her eyes, causing catastrophic damage she would never recover from. We didn’t know what she could see and she had been in surgery every two weeks to monitor and manage her detached retinas. We didn’t know how to handle a blind child and we were all depressed at the unknown future of her vision.
I remember some things specifically from the trip. One was of going up in a large ferris wheel. I was hoping my daughter would be able to see something, anything, as we got up high. I was so sad to realize she couldn’t even tell which direction the ocean was and that large building rooftops were not discernible to her.
I also remember one thing that still makes me smile. We were walking down the boardwalk and a lady had an inflated green monkey. She asked if my daughter would like it because she had won it and wanted to share it with someone who would like to have it. My daughter did want the monkey. It squeaked when she squeezed it and she played with it all weekend.
We still have that monkey. It lived in the children’s bedroom for a long, long time but eventually was relegated to the storage room beyond their closet. We pulled it out a few times and he was played with again (he never got named). Then he got a hole. The deflated monkey got put in a box of toys because I couldn’t bear to throw it away. Just two days ago my daughter found the green monkey and I tried to re inflate it, only to find out the hole was significant. I didn’t have time to find and patch the hole so I put it away for later.
Maybe this trip we’ll get another green monkey.
The Big Boy Update: My daughter wants to play with my son in the car right now. He isn’t interested. She has been persistent but it’s not working as my son just said to her, “I’ve had enough of you.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I took my daughter rock climbing the other day for the first time. She was hesitant at first but once she got the hang of it she was quite good. There were challenges mostly because she couldn’t see where the handholds were but she didn’t give up. By the time we’d been there for an hour she had decided she liked it, saying, “I love to climb. This is even better than a water slide.”
Friday, October 6, 2017
Bring Your Parent’s To School
We went to my son’s school this evening to spend time with him in the classroom. He’s been preparing for us to visit and see what work he’s been doing all week. We didn’t know what work he was going to show us and he didn’t want to tell us so we waited until tonight to find out.
He had some things laid out on the table and when we sat down he opened up what was a book that turned into a poster-sized sheet about the sun and planets. He’d been working on this for some time, drawing a picture of each of the planets and then writing about each of them. He read back to us the information on each planet. It was some of the more complex writing and drawing work I’ve seen him do.
Next he wanted to do some math work and added four digit numbers together. This was called, “The Exchange Game” with the part of the game being to know when you need to exchange ten of one order of magnitude for the next level up. For example, he was laying out the units portion of the problem and was looking at the numbers. He said, “there might not be an exchange here” but then as he realized the two digits were six and eight he updated his statement with, “oh wait, six plus eight, there’s definitely gonna be an exchange.”
As he was laying out all the chips for the exchange game he was running out of table room so he rearranged them, saying, “it’s easier to count by two’s”. He did the remainder of the problem by twos.
After math he did some reading work with the result of the reading to circle a picture of the answer. But my son didn’t want to circle it, it wanted to minutely and accurately trace it. That level of detail took up the last five minutes of our time but he was very happy with his tracing. Coincidentally we got a light tray today. I’m going to see what he thinks about it tomorrow.
The Big Boy Update: My son said in the car today, “I feel a little tired of being a kid.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter explained to me the other night when she wanted the laser light off in their bedroom we’d put up for Halloween that she wasn’t liking the light on because it was too bright (it was green and I was surprised she saw it). She told us, “when I sleep, my eyes are open most of the time.”
He had some things laid out on the table and when we sat down he opened up what was a book that turned into a poster-sized sheet about the sun and planets. He’d been working on this for some time, drawing a picture of each of the planets and then writing about each of them. He read back to us the information on each planet. It was some of the more complex writing and drawing work I’ve seen him do.
Next he wanted to do some math work and added four digit numbers together. This was called, “The Exchange Game” with the part of the game being to know when you need to exchange ten of one order of magnitude for the next level up. For example, he was laying out the units portion of the problem and was looking at the numbers. He said, “there might not be an exchange here” but then as he realized the two digits were six and eight he updated his statement with, “oh wait, six plus eight, there’s definitely gonna be an exchange.”
As he was laying out all the chips for the exchange game he was running out of table room so he rearranged them, saying, “it’s easier to count by two’s”. He did the remainder of the problem by twos.
After math he did some reading work with the result of the reading to circle a picture of the answer. But my son didn’t want to circle it, it wanted to minutely and accurately trace it. That level of detail took up the last five minutes of our time but he was very happy with his tracing. Coincidentally we got a light tray today. I’m going to see what he thinks about it tomorrow.
The Big Boy Update: My son said in the car today, “I feel a little tired of being a kid.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter explained to me the other night when she wanted the laser light off in their bedroom we’d put up for Halloween that she wasn’t liking the light on because it was too bright (it was green and I was surprised she saw it). She told us, “when I sleep, my eyes are open most of the time.”
Thursday, October 5, 2017
Speed Stacks
My son came downstairs with some cups that were part of a big color and shape sorting work we’ve had around for a number of years. Typically the piles of rubber bears, llamas, goats and other sundry animals get disbursed around the room by one child and then another child, possibly a neighbor, comes in and decides it would be fun to sort them into the color-matching cups included with the set.
This time though my son had an idea with the cups. He was stacking them upside down into a pyramid. My husband and I looked at each other because he and I were remembering Speed Stacks, the competitive cup stacking sport for children. If you’ve never heard of it look at the video on their main site here: http://www.speedstacks.com And yes, those videos aren’t being sped up, the participants are really that fast.
My husband and I had fun with the Speed Stacks not that long ago. On second thought, it was before the children were born. I swear time speeds up as you get older. But muscle memory still serves because as soon as we had the mat out and the cups in front of us we remembered most of the sets.
I was hoping my son would be interested in it but I missed something as I was thinking about which child might find it fun. My son had triggered the idea but my daughter was the one who was interested. It was tactile and physical and she could do it without having to see. She loved putting her hands on either side of the timer, releasing her hands to start the clock, stacking a set of three cups, collapsing them back into a single stack and then putting both hands back on the pads to stop the timer.
She did this again and again this afternoon. I taught her how to do two stacks of three and we were getting into three stacks of three when I asked her if she wanted to do one stack of six. She was getting the motions down fairly well when my son finally came over and acted interested.
The part she liked the best was the competitive aspect though. She liked trying to best her own time. She asked all about the buttons on the pad and understood that after she’d stopped the timer she could either reset the timer and go again or store the time if it was a particularly memorable one (she liked most of hers).
The only thing she couldn’t do was see the time on the timer. She’d ask me to come over and tell her what her time was. The made getting anything done by me rather challenging because most of her times were less than thirty seconds.
We’ll see who has more perseverance (or interest) and who will get the fastest score. Okay, on that second question I already know the answer in advance: dad will.
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Christmas Conversation: This morning my son told my husband there were three colors of Christmas: white, for snow; green, for the trees; and red, for love. My daughter chimed in, “and yellow, for the star on the tree”.
This time though my son had an idea with the cups. He was stacking them upside down into a pyramid. My husband and I looked at each other because he and I were remembering Speed Stacks, the competitive cup stacking sport for children. If you’ve never heard of it look at the video on their main site here: http://www.speedstacks.com And yes, those videos aren’t being sped up, the participants are really that fast.
My husband and I had fun with the Speed Stacks not that long ago. On second thought, it was before the children were born. I swear time speeds up as you get older. But muscle memory still serves because as soon as we had the mat out and the cups in front of us we remembered most of the sets.
I was hoping my son would be interested in it but I missed something as I was thinking about which child might find it fun. My son had triggered the idea but my daughter was the one who was interested. It was tactile and physical and she could do it without having to see. She loved putting her hands on either side of the timer, releasing her hands to start the clock, stacking a set of three cups, collapsing them back into a single stack and then putting both hands back on the pads to stop the timer.
She did this again and again this afternoon. I taught her how to do two stacks of three and we were getting into three stacks of three when I asked her if she wanted to do one stack of six. She was getting the motions down fairly well when my son finally came over and acted interested.
The part she liked the best was the competitive aspect though. She liked trying to best her own time. She asked all about the buttons on the pad and understood that after she’d stopped the timer she could either reset the timer and go again or store the time if it was a particularly memorable one (she liked most of hers).
The only thing she couldn’t do was see the time on the timer. She’d ask me to come over and tell her what her time was. The made getting anything done by me rather challenging because most of her times were less than thirty seconds.
We’ll see who has more perseverance (or interest) and who will get the fastest score. Okay, on that second question I already know the answer in advance: dad will.
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Christmas Conversation: This morning my son told my husband there were three colors of Christmas: white, for snow; green, for the trees; and red, for love. My daughter chimed in, “and yellow, for the star on the tree”.
Wednesday, October 4, 2017
The Broken Cabinet Door
I have a bit of an OCD thing going. I think I got it from my mother but that might not be completely true. My mother likes things just so, but that’s not to say my father is a mess. He’s organized in his own way. My father likes to collect things and my mother likes to organize things. I got the combination of liking stuff that’s also well-organized.
But this post isn’t about collecting, it’s about things being in the “proper” place. And by proper or “right” place I mean the place I think it should be. The blinds all have to have the same relative angle. The counters need to be cleared of clutter and let’s not even get started on what my expectations are for a tidy pantry. Just take it on authority that I have a bit of an obsessive nature about me when it comes to things being in their proper place.
In 1994 I was ending my employment with IBM and had another job that was starting shortly afterwards. Instead of starting immediately though I scheduled a four week break between jobs with the plan to go to Manhattan and stay with a friend for a month and see the city.
I had a great time. He lived on Central Park West in a 200 square foot condo and I slept on his couch which at the time was comfortable. Thinking about living on a couch for a month at this point in my life with my cranky neck and spine makes me recoil in fear, but back then I was in a different place and it didn’t bother me one bit.
His parents were very gracious and lived a few blocks down the street in what I would call an opulent home for Manhattan. They had had a designer come in and decorate the place completely. The style was both modern and eclectic with flairs of colorful artwork and antlers thrown in for good measure. I spent a lot of time in the evenings at his parents house.
One day I came over and went into the den and noticed one of the doors to their custom made cabinetry had been left fully extended on its rollers. So I rolled it shut, that being how it was suppose to be when not in use.
Not five minutes later my friend’s father came in and was quite upset, wanting to know who in hell had closed that cabinet door? Oh dear. I said I had. He was immediately back to polite, realizing I didn’t know what I’d done. They’d had a repair man there for several hours trying to fix the tracking mechanism and had done some gluing that needed to dry and no one was suppose to touch it overnight while it dried.
I felt awful. But they were very nice about it, saying I didn’t know. My OCD got me in trouble that day. Thankfully they weren’t upset about it. Since that time I try to never let my need for order interfere when I’m in someone else’s home. Until now. But I handle it differently.
If I see drawers left open I ask if we can close them because I have a child that may or may not see them and drawers and cabinets are at the worst height to damage the face, body or possibly even the eyes of my low-vision daughter.
I hadn’t thought of that day until recently when I was in a friend’s house and had to ask about the drawers their children had left open as they slowly, and with multiple reminders to stay on task, put up the dishes.
The Big Boy Update: My son said to my husband today, “I feel bad for that grandpa sitting on the bench.” My husband asked why and was told, “because he’s old and getting weak and is going to die soon”. I’m not sure where he got this idea but my husband told him not to despair by saying, “you never know, he might live for another twenty years. Some people live to 110”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter helped me pick out some clothes for her and her brother at the used clothing store today. She said she wanted all green shirts so we looked at what they had available. She also said she wanted stripes. Tall order but I found one green shirt with rows of frill across the chest. She felt it and said, “look, the stripes are tactile!” Can you tell one of the words that’s important for blind people she hears all the time at school?
But this post isn’t about collecting, it’s about things being in the “proper” place. And by proper or “right” place I mean the place I think it should be. The blinds all have to have the same relative angle. The counters need to be cleared of clutter and let’s not even get started on what my expectations are for a tidy pantry. Just take it on authority that I have a bit of an obsessive nature about me when it comes to things being in their proper place.
In 1994 I was ending my employment with IBM and had another job that was starting shortly afterwards. Instead of starting immediately though I scheduled a four week break between jobs with the plan to go to Manhattan and stay with a friend for a month and see the city.
I had a great time. He lived on Central Park West in a 200 square foot condo and I slept on his couch which at the time was comfortable. Thinking about living on a couch for a month at this point in my life with my cranky neck and spine makes me recoil in fear, but back then I was in a different place and it didn’t bother me one bit.
His parents were very gracious and lived a few blocks down the street in what I would call an opulent home for Manhattan. They had had a designer come in and decorate the place completely. The style was both modern and eclectic with flairs of colorful artwork and antlers thrown in for good measure. I spent a lot of time in the evenings at his parents house.
One day I came over and went into the den and noticed one of the doors to their custom made cabinetry had been left fully extended on its rollers. So I rolled it shut, that being how it was suppose to be when not in use.
Not five minutes later my friend’s father came in and was quite upset, wanting to know who in hell had closed that cabinet door? Oh dear. I said I had. He was immediately back to polite, realizing I didn’t know what I’d done. They’d had a repair man there for several hours trying to fix the tracking mechanism and had done some gluing that needed to dry and no one was suppose to touch it overnight while it dried.
I felt awful. But they were very nice about it, saying I didn’t know. My OCD got me in trouble that day. Thankfully they weren’t upset about it. Since that time I try to never let my need for order interfere when I’m in someone else’s home. Until now. But I handle it differently.
If I see drawers left open I ask if we can close them because I have a child that may or may not see them and drawers and cabinets are at the worst height to damage the face, body or possibly even the eyes of my low-vision daughter.
I hadn’t thought of that day until recently when I was in a friend’s house and had to ask about the drawers their children had left open as they slowly, and with multiple reminders to stay on task, put up the dishes.
The Big Boy Update: My son said to my husband today, “I feel bad for that grandpa sitting on the bench.” My husband asked why and was told, “because he’s old and getting weak and is going to die soon”. I’m not sure where he got this idea but my husband told him not to despair by saying, “you never know, he might live for another twenty years. Some people live to 110”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter helped me pick out some clothes for her and her brother at the used clothing store today. She said she wanted all green shirts so we looked at what they had available. She also said she wanted stripes. Tall order but I found one green shirt with rows of frill across the chest. She felt it and said, “look, the stripes are tactile!” Can you tell one of the words that’s important for blind people she hears all the time at school?
Tuesday, October 3, 2017
We Kind of Look Like Losers
My son has decided we need to put up some Halloween decorations. He’s liked Halloween since he figured out there was candy but as he’s gotten older he’s gotten more into the costumes and recently into the decorations.
Last year he wanted to help decorate for Halloween. This year he asked me before October even began if we could put some decorations out. I told him after school we’d get some things down from the attic and every day we’d add a little bit more to our decorations.
We have a lot of things in the Halloween section of our attic because friends of ours took their house on the road in a forty-five foot rig and had to abandon most of their belongings so they could wedge into a much smaller living space. We were the recipients of the Halloween collection.
So each year we figure out what and where to put things and I’d told my son we’d get started soon. Yesterday on the way home from school I think my son had had enough because he was looking around at the neighbor’s houses, many of whom are already fully decked out for the season of horror and sugar and told me, “we kind of look like losers”.
And we can’t have that. So we got some boxes down and my son ran around and randomly placed things in locations that made no sense, but made him happy nonetheless. I sent him outside with a step ladder and some ghosts to hang from the tree in the front yard and he got the neighbor’s children involved.
I came up from downstairs to hear my son explaining to the other children about this one tree ghost (a piece of white plastic with newspaper inside it, tied at the bottom to look like a ghost) that this ghost was special. He tied the ghost to a lamp in the living room and proclaimed, “this is the Greeting Ghost”.
Tomorrow he wants to put out more decorations. I think he is more enthusiastic about Halloween than any other holiday.
The Big Boy Update: My son had some stomach cramps earlier today. He had been sitting on the toilet in our powder room for a while. I came in and asked him what he was thinking about. He pointed directly in front of him and said, “I was distracted by that”. I told him that piece of artwork was named, “Spooner” after Gramps and it was created by one of our friends. I told him that to create it she had taken all the fun things gramps had given her and made them into a colorful, three-dimensional piece of art. And get this—she hadn’t thought the piece of art was cool, I told my son. He asked me about the different keys and transistors and knobs and buttons and things I don’t even know how to describe and wanted to know where Gramps found them. I told him I didn’t know but weren’t we glad our friend Beth had made them into this piece of art? He agreed. He and I decided “Spooner” is definitely cool.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Sometimes we get excited when my daughter can see things. We learn not to get too excited though because sometimes it’s via other senses and not sight that she knows something, but I’ll remain hopeful and keep an open mind that some of it could be visual. We were pulling into the driveway yesterday when my daughter asked, “why aren’t there berries on the bushes anymore?” There are two large bushes on either side of the driveway that are at times laden down with red berries. Did she see the lack of red? She was correct, there were no berries.
Three Walking Miles: not much exercise but the weather was clement and the conversation was good, as always.
Last year he wanted to help decorate for Halloween. This year he asked me before October even began if we could put some decorations out. I told him after school we’d get some things down from the attic and every day we’d add a little bit more to our decorations.
We have a lot of things in the Halloween section of our attic because friends of ours took their house on the road in a forty-five foot rig and had to abandon most of their belongings so they could wedge into a much smaller living space. We were the recipients of the Halloween collection.
So each year we figure out what and where to put things and I’d told my son we’d get started soon. Yesterday on the way home from school I think my son had had enough because he was looking around at the neighbor’s houses, many of whom are already fully decked out for the season of horror and sugar and told me, “we kind of look like losers”.
And we can’t have that. So we got some boxes down and my son ran around and randomly placed things in locations that made no sense, but made him happy nonetheless. I sent him outside with a step ladder and some ghosts to hang from the tree in the front yard and he got the neighbor’s children involved.
I came up from downstairs to hear my son explaining to the other children about this one tree ghost (a piece of white plastic with newspaper inside it, tied at the bottom to look like a ghost) that this ghost was special. He tied the ghost to a lamp in the living room and proclaimed, “this is the Greeting Ghost”.
Tomorrow he wants to put out more decorations. I think he is more enthusiastic about Halloween than any other holiday.
The Big Boy Update: My son had some stomach cramps earlier today. He had been sitting on the toilet in our powder room for a while. I came in and asked him what he was thinking about. He pointed directly in front of him and said, “I was distracted by that”. I told him that piece of artwork was named, “Spooner” after Gramps and it was created by one of our friends. I told him that to create it she had taken all the fun things gramps had given her and made them into a colorful, three-dimensional piece of art. And get this—she hadn’t thought the piece of art was cool, I told my son. He asked me about the different keys and transistors and knobs and buttons and things I don’t even know how to describe and wanted to know where Gramps found them. I told him I didn’t know but weren’t we glad our friend Beth had made them into this piece of art? He agreed. He and I decided “Spooner” is definitely cool.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Sometimes we get excited when my daughter can see things. We learn not to get too excited though because sometimes it’s via other senses and not sight that she knows something, but I’ll remain hopeful and keep an open mind that some of it could be visual. We were pulling into the driveway yesterday when my daughter asked, “why aren’t there berries on the bushes anymore?” There are two large bushes on either side of the driveway that are at times laden down with red berries. Did she see the lack of red? She was correct, there were no berries.
Three Walking Miles: not much exercise but the weather was clement and the conversation was good, as always.
Monday, October 2, 2017
The Screw
I ran some errands this morning while my husband worked at home and answered my tracked-out daughter’s seven-hundred questions about everything and anything. I returned to the house just in time for my husband to put his golf clubs in the car to head out to a charity golf tournament.
I thought he’d gone but my daughter came into the kitchen from the garage and told me I had to come out to hear the noise. The noise was a good catch by my husband who heard the hissing of the passenger rear tire in my car deflating via the impaling of a large screw in our nearly new tire.
Quick, grab my daughter, explain there was an emergency she didn’t understand that was time-sensitive and head to the tire store to get the tire plugged before it went completely flat as we were already down to 27 psi and it was dropping fast. Seriously, had my husband not heard the hissing we would have had a whole other problem on our hands as there's no spare tire in the car and I would have had to re-inflate the tire most likely leaving my son stranded at school until I got everything sorted in the garage.
But never fear, I was on the way to the tire store. Was my husband sure I should go to that particular store, I asked? Last time they said it was, “better” to get a new tire. And I didn’t like that answer. No no, my husband assured me, the only thing they could possibly have any concern about was the foam layer in the tire—but don’t mention it unless they bring it up.
So of course they bring it up. It’s not a safety thing. It’s not a re-inflation thing. It’s a noise reduction thing. All you have to do is cut out the insulation around the screw/nail and patch as normal. I’d been on the phone with Tesla service on the ride there and they’d said that’s all you needed to do. But did the tire place balk? Oh yeah. Wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t let me take the risk of it being a wee bit more noisy as the tire went around and around. Wasn’t sure it it was safe.
My daughter is now scared because I used the word, “emergency” to get her moving at the house and I now can’t dissuade her that it’s all going to be okay. This isn’t made any better because I’ve been agitated. And then I lose my temper. I’ve been back on the phone with Tesla, on speaker phone with the service center folks telling the tire place it’s fine, just patch it. But they don’t feel comfortable.
I don’t like losing my temper but at this point I had my husband on speaker phone now and the guy is saying their other store won’t do it either. He’s calling headquarters or something, I don’t know. I’m using all manner of foul words as I describe this to my husband on speaker phone. My daughter is still worried but I’ve given her my iPad and she’s repairing cars on some children’s app and seems okay.
Then things sort of changed, which was interesting. This man, whom I’d just yelled at, telling him how frustrated I was at their store, was contacting Michelin to get see if they could more information and possibly do the patch. Had the tire company said it was okay, then they’d do it. In the meantime, while I stand around texting my husband looking for alternate tire locations, this guy is calling their competitors, asking if they would do the repair. He called five places and the fifth one said that sure, they do those types of tires, no problem. I call this store myself to see if they could, “sure, no problem” do it right now on account of my tire was losing about one psi every two minutes. “yeah, come on over” they say, “we can do it right now”.
I told the guy who I’d yelled at that I was very sorry. He said don’t worry about it. I said, no, I was sorry that I had lost my temper and it wasn’t his fault and that even though I was rude, he had tried to help me, even calling his competitors. He then said, “here’s the thing—no one wants ever to come to the tire store. So I get it all day long and I don’t take it personally.” Yeah, well I did, because I wasn’t polite to him. I gave him a tip he didn’t initially want to take but I told him I insisted. He was a young guy but he made an impression on me.
So now we’re back to the leaking tire problem. I drove those four miles down the same main road to this other tire place and they pulled the car in, told me to come back in an hour (my daughter and I went to lunch) and that—get this—it was all free. Hold on? I didn’t buy the tires from them. That’s okay, company policy. They hope we’ll choose to buy tires from them in the future. Compelling practice if you ask me.
The two people who helped me told me they didn’t understand why other companies had trouble with the tires, it was just a sound dampening layer. I said I didn’t know but I was going to do one thing and that was to call the Tesla service center and let them know about this place three miles from them that knew how to handle their car’s tires.
So where did that screw come from? I went to four locations and only one of them had any construction around it. My chiropractor’s office is virtually surrounded in construction and has been for several months so I have my suspicions. Here’s the screw and the nice company who fixes punctured tires for free.
The Big Boy Update: My son was working on his reading yesterday and complained bitterly, “I hate print. I want to say to all the writers in the world who write books: please use cursive.” Montessori schools teach cursive writing and it would seem he prefers it.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter asked Alexa to play, “Call Me Maybe” today. I asked her where she’d heard that song as it was popular too far back and I don’t remember it playing when I’ve been around. She didn’t recall she said, she did say, “I’m good at remembering things”.
I thought he’d gone but my daughter came into the kitchen from the garage and told me I had to come out to hear the noise. The noise was a good catch by my husband who heard the hissing of the passenger rear tire in my car deflating via the impaling of a large screw in our nearly new tire.
Quick, grab my daughter, explain there was an emergency she didn’t understand that was time-sensitive and head to the tire store to get the tire plugged before it went completely flat as we were already down to 27 psi and it was dropping fast. Seriously, had my husband not heard the hissing we would have had a whole other problem on our hands as there's no spare tire in the car and I would have had to re-inflate the tire most likely leaving my son stranded at school until I got everything sorted in the garage.
But never fear, I was on the way to the tire store. Was my husband sure I should go to that particular store, I asked? Last time they said it was, “better” to get a new tire. And I didn’t like that answer. No no, my husband assured me, the only thing they could possibly have any concern about was the foam layer in the tire—but don’t mention it unless they bring it up.
So of course they bring it up. It’s not a safety thing. It’s not a re-inflation thing. It’s a noise reduction thing. All you have to do is cut out the insulation around the screw/nail and patch as normal. I’d been on the phone with Tesla service on the ride there and they’d said that’s all you needed to do. But did the tire place balk? Oh yeah. Wouldn’t do it. Wouldn’t let me take the risk of it being a wee bit more noisy as the tire went around and around. Wasn’t sure it it was safe.
My daughter is now scared because I used the word, “emergency” to get her moving at the house and I now can’t dissuade her that it’s all going to be okay. This isn’t made any better because I’ve been agitated. And then I lose my temper. I’ve been back on the phone with Tesla, on speaker phone with the service center folks telling the tire place it’s fine, just patch it. But they don’t feel comfortable.
I don’t like losing my temper but at this point I had my husband on speaker phone now and the guy is saying their other store won’t do it either. He’s calling headquarters or something, I don’t know. I’m using all manner of foul words as I describe this to my husband on speaker phone. My daughter is still worried but I’ve given her my iPad and she’s repairing cars on some children’s app and seems okay.
Then things sort of changed, which was interesting. This man, whom I’d just yelled at, telling him how frustrated I was at their store, was contacting Michelin to get see if they could more information and possibly do the patch. Had the tire company said it was okay, then they’d do it. In the meantime, while I stand around texting my husband looking for alternate tire locations, this guy is calling their competitors, asking if they would do the repair. He called five places and the fifth one said that sure, they do those types of tires, no problem. I call this store myself to see if they could, “sure, no problem” do it right now on account of my tire was losing about one psi every two minutes. “yeah, come on over” they say, “we can do it right now”.
I told the guy who I’d yelled at that I was very sorry. He said don’t worry about it. I said, no, I was sorry that I had lost my temper and it wasn’t his fault and that even though I was rude, he had tried to help me, even calling his competitors. He then said, “here’s the thing—no one wants ever to come to the tire store. So I get it all day long and I don’t take it personally.” Yeah, well I did, because I wasn’t polite to him. I gave him a tip he didn’t initially want to take but I told him I insisted. He was a young guy but he made an impression on me.
So now we’re back to the leaking tire problem. I drove those four miles down the same main road to this other tire place and they pulled the car in, told me to come back in an hour (my daughter and I went to lunch) and that—get this—it was all free. Hold on? I didn’t buy the tires from them. That’s okay, company policy. They hope we’ll choose to buy tires from them in the future. Compelling practice if you ask me.
The two people who helped me told me they didn’t understand why other companies had trouble with the tires, it was just a sound dampening layer. I said I didn’t know but I was going to do one thing and that was to call the Tesla service center and let them know about this place three miles from them that knew how to handle their car’s tires.
So where did that screw come from? I went to four locations and only one of them had any construction around it. My chiropractor’s office is virtually surrounded in construction and has been for several months so I have my suspicions. Here’s the screw and the nice company who fixes punctured tires for free.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter asked Alexa to play, “Call Me Maybe” today. I asked her where she’d heard that song as it was popular too far back and I don’t remember it playing when I’ve been around. She didn’t recall she said, she did say, “I’m good at remembering things”.