The Wellness Check

We had the children's wellness checks today.  I got my son from school early while my husband picked up my daughter a bit before normal dismissal time.  When I got to the office they had already arrived and my daughter was in a cranky mood.   She wasn't thrilled because she'd been taken out of school early—which was a surprise all around.   She hadn't had to ride home in the stifling hot cab.  But who knows the reasons for children's moods—I certainly haven't figured them out as of yet.

The amount of commotion my family made while at the pediatrician's office seemed, well, a lot.   I asked the doctor when she was in the room with us after a while if we were anomalous in our behavior, which seemed all over the place.   She assured us it depended a lot on when in the day the appointment was and how keyed up the children were, if they needed to burn energy, were anxious or, and we had this one as a bonus: if there were siblings in the room together.

Everything went well with lots of questions asked by the doctor to both us and the children.   She checked them out and then the very most important thing that my daughter wouldn't stop asking about was when my son was going to get the flu vaccination?   It was as if we were on a long car ride in which your child repeatedly asks, "are we there yet?" and you keep saying, "not yet, but soon."

My daughter was very excited about her brother getting this flu vaccination.  She didn't know how it was going to be done, guessed it was going to hurt some but not too much.   She wasn't anxious at all about it, she was almost eager to have her brother experience some medical procedure while she had nothing done to her.   So much has happened to her medical-wise that I formulated this theory after her persistent interest.

It was finally time for the vaccination.  My son was completely fine with it beforehand.   We had talked about it hurting just a bit and then being over.  Should he look at or away from the needle?   He decided to look away on advice from his father.  After it happened, which was very quick indeed, my son said, "oh, I've experienced something like this before.  I give it a one out of ten for pain."

The Big Boy Coolness:  My son tries to play it cool a lot of times.   He wants to be cool in the eyes of his friends, peers, relatives and other adults.   But today at the pediatrician he wasn't trying to be cool about the flu shot, he really was laid back about it and not worried at all.  I was very impressed with him.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter and Madison are having a sleepover in "The Secret Hideout" which is a closet in a bedroom upstairs.   I've given them the whole room as well as the bathroom and closet.   They had the dog, but she came downstairs just now, which I'm glad for, because I would miss a night without the dog in the room here with me.

Running Out Of Money

My mother picked my son up after school today to go to the mall.  My children love going to the mall with my mother.   They each do different things with her while there're there.  My daughter is eight, but she still likes to ride the little quarter rides.   They both like to eat with her in the food court and then they each have different things they like to buy.

My daughter typically comes home with a bag of candy from the store where you select candy from rows and rows of bins and pay by weight.  She eats some of the candy there, brings a piece or so home for her brother, father or me and then promptly forgets about it the next day.   She comes back to it later after I've put it in the candy bowl hidden up high, remembering every single piece she bought.

My son likes to buy a Lego set.   Something not too big, although he convinced Mimi to get him a pretty big one one time.   He loves Legos, only lately he's been into different things.  Today he came home with some Pokemon cards.   Tonight he has covered our entire island and the bar with cards in a grid pattern, separated by importance or category or color or something he deemed important.

My mother told me about a conversation she had with him on the way to the mall today.   She picked him up from school and he asked her, "Mimi, what do retired people do when they have no money?"  She wasn't sure where my son was coming from with this question so she said, "There are a lot of things they can do, first of all, they can get a job.  They could also sell some things."  My son was concerned they might sell their red truck.   He was referring to my father's "Lowes Mobile," an old Jeep he's had for a long time.  She told him she didn't think they would sell it.

My son then said, "or they could go bankrupt," referring to what retired people could do when they ran our of money.   My mother didn't know where he heard about bankruptcy but she talked to him about how retired people usually had prepared for retirement with investments or retirement plans from their jobs or the government also had something called Social Security that gave retired people money after many years of paying taxes.  

My mother said she and Gramps had prepared for retirement and would not be going bankrupt and did that help with his question?  That seemed to be what my son was looking for.   I'm glad the youngest generation in our family is thinking about the financial security of his elders.

The Big Boy Update:  After the bankruptcy and retirement conversation in the car with my mother today, my son asked her if she'd heard about the basketball player who had died.   My mother said she did.   She said my son was an interesting conversationalist.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter was up at four-something-AM this morning.   Her brother was up too.  I. have no idea why, but they were making a great racket.   She fell asleep early tonight as a result.  I'm hoping we don't have another super early night/morning for tomorrow.

Some Days

Some days are good days in life.  Some days are bad days.   Some days are busy days and some days are relaxing days.   There are happy days and sad days and painful days and blissful days.   I remember Charlie Brown from when I was a child.   Lucy had figured out in a calendar year of 365 days she could have a certain number of different types of days.   I don't remember what the categories were bot they ranged from mediocre to really angry.

She had three of the worst days available for the year.   Realizing she had three of the worst days available, she decided to have one of them for today.

If I could divide the days of the year into certain types, I'm not sure what the distribution would be.   I hope it would be more good days than bad days.   But like Lucy, I'm going to take one of the negative days right now.   It's just how I feel.

The Big Boy Update:  My son has been doing a lot of drawing lately.  He asked if we wanted BB8 or R2D2   Easy question, I'm droid generation one, I told him, R2d2 for the win.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  For two days my daughter has been engaged completely for the cab ride to and from school with her headphones and Junie B. Jones stories.   I've overheard some of them and I have to admit, they're pretty cute.

The List

I work better with a list.  There has been so much we've needed to get done and it feels like we're getting behind on more and more of late.   Perhaps we're not, but the number of little things, as well as the few big things, seem to keep not getting done.   I suggested to my husband that we create a list, on paper, and leave it out in the kitchen where we both will see it.  We've done this before in various incarnations.   Even though we have lots of things we keep track of via electronic lists, for some reason having the to-do list on paper, in plain sight, works better.

Perhaps we don't like looking at the list.   Maybe it's a constant reminder or irritant, or maybe it's just that little bit of additional motivation it takes to get going on things we've been putting off.  Last night we created the list and put on it things we remembered at the time.   Today, I remembered a lot more things as I worked on some of the existing list items.

For instance, as I took the dog outside and played some coveted fetch time with her I remembered we needed to go through the front yard and remove the debris of all the things she'd chewed up.   The nerf gun ammo from the battles the neighbors had that she happily gnawed into bits and left all over the front yard as well as other things that somehow landed in her area that had been reduced to scrap. Fortunately, the dog doesn't swallow anything, but she does enjoy chewing any and everything plastic or soft.

Oh, and the garage door pad needed the battery replaced.   That was another thing to put on the list.   All-day long I remembered things that needed to be done.   The list got longer, but I got things done and cleared off the list as well.   My husband was away working a lot of the day but he also checked off several things.  

Some of the items are bigger tasks that will take some time to get done, but we've made a start—again—and hopefully will get back to where it doesn't seem like we're so far behind.  Today at least it seems like we got things accomplished.  Two children back in school definitely helps.

The Big Boy Update:  My son spent the afternoon with Morgan.   Tonight, he didn't want to go to bed because he wanted to draw.  Morgan went to design school and is an excellent artist.   She always inspires him when they're together.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter brought me homework from school today.  She had taken her vocabulary words using contractions she was working on in VI and pasted a little piece of paper with each braille word on it in columns on pieces of paper.   I had about thirty words to translate largely using the "of" single-character contraction.   I had fun telling her the translated word and her telling me if I got it correct.

The Science of Liquids

The first thing was my teacher called our partners.  That means that my teacher assigned partners for science.  My partner is Zoė.  My teacher told us what to do.  We had a tray.  In that tray were two cups.  On was filled with water and one was filled with glue.  And also there was two spoons.

Our teacher told us to use one spoon though.  She said we would figure out why.  Next, she handed out that construction paper.  Then we opened both lids of the containers.  I used the spoon to get the water in it.  Then I slowly tipped it over the black construction paper.  It says on top and spread out really far.

Then, Zoė spooned the glue onto a different spot and it didn't spread out.   Afterward, our teacher said to throw away the spoon that we were using.  Next, we observed.  We figured out what was similar.  The things that were similar were: they both were liquids, they both stayed on the paper, they both stayed on top of the paper and didn't absorb into the paper.  The things that were different were: the water spread out and the glue didn't, the glue was sticky and the water was swishy.

And that was my science project on the science of liquids.

(Today's blog post courtesy of my daughter)

The Big Boy Update:  My son got very angry neighbor friends who wanted to use his street hockey set this afternoon.   It was twenty minutes of rage and upsetness that we realized was fueled by lack of food and Adderall waning.  Typically, he'd be interested in playing with the neighbor boys outside.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Today was my daughter's first day back to school after a very long track out that started before Christmas.   We're glad she's back in school.

But I’m Blind!

My daughter had some challenges today.  I was out mid-morning and when I came back I returned to an unhappy child who had done something to lose trampoline privileges.  This didn't seem to be much of an issue at the time, as Madison was over and they were happily playing together...or so I thought.

I overheard several conversations between the two of them in which my daughter was being selfish and unyielding in her demands to have all the preferred things (certain shelf in the secret hideout, pairs of my shoes for them to play dress up in, etc.).  It didn't matter what it was, my daughter wanted it all.   She was lobbying for herself by saying things such as, "but since it's my house, I should get X" or "it was my Christmas present so I should get to have the mini-trampoline and you don't get a turn" for their game of hot lava in the living room.

It went on like this with my daughter being difficult and unreasonable while Madison tried very hard to work with her in the mood she was in.   I give Madison a lot of credit, she didn't show her frustration, but I could tell it was wearing on her.  I intervened several times saying it didn't sound like my daughter was willing to share or work together and that if it were me, I wouldn't want to keep playing with someone who wasn't willing to share.

Things came to a head outside and I heard my daughter telling Madison to go home, that she didn't want her at her house anymore.   I called her in and told her she was grounded and she had to go to her room until I said she could come out and that she needed to think about her behavior.

My daughter called in a near emergency, "Alexa, tell everyone, Dad, I need you to come to my room right now" which broadcasted all over the house.  My husband came upstairs but I told him I had it and he could leave after he admonished my daughter, telling her she was being punished and she knew it and that was in no way a reason to call him away from his work to come to her room.

I came upstairs to put away some things and was told to leave the room that she didn't want me there. Also, when was she going to be able to come out?  I said I was disappointed in how she had been treating Madison.   I suggested she was treating her unkindly because she was mad about not being able to use the trampoline.   I told her it wasn't fair to treat Madison that way, just because she was upset.

Then I told her she could leave the room when her mood had improved.  I also told her she needed to put the blocks back in their bag she and Madison had pulled out earlier in the day.   These are large, cardboard building blocks about the size of an actual brick.   They had put them out earlier in the day in specific sections of the room.  

My daughter complained and said she didn't know where they were.   I told her she could find them.   Then she said something she hasn't said in this way before.   She said, "but I'm blind!"  I responded swiftly, saying, "I have never treated you like you are blind.  I know you are perfectly capable of finding and putting the blocks up.   If you want me to start treating you differently in the future, you can let me know.   But I know you can do this."   Then I tapped the wall or floor indicating where sections of blocks were and put the empty bag in front of her.

She said nothing but a few minutes later called down on Alexa and asked if she could come out.   She had gotten all the blocks put away and was in a better mood.  I know she's trying to accept her blindness.   I hope what I said was a positive thing.   Even with full acceptance of her vision loss, I don't think she wants to be treated differently unless absolutely necessary.

The Big Boy Tiny Girl When Are We Separating Them Question:  At bedtime tonight there was a disagreement on if music was going to be played to go to sleep or not.   These are the kinds of things we're pointing out to them as considerations both they and we should have as we try to decide when to separate them into their own bedrooms.   I don't think they're altogether sure themselves if it's the right time yet.

Some Days I’m Tired

I've always slept well.   I would say I still do, even with children running around the house.   Sometimes though, I wake up in the middle of the night and don't get back to sleep.   This is most likely the fault of my iPad and the Internet and all the interesting things I can do with the combination of both as I lie in my bed.  

It doesn't bother me though as I catch up on sleep when I next get the chance.  Last night I woke up after 3AM and didn't get back to sleep.   I had fallen asleep before 10PM so I'd gotten some hours in, but I was tired after the birthday party mid-day we had gone to.   I fell asleep with children running amok in the house and missed the alarm going off on my phone to wake me in time to get ready for dinner with our friends.   Thankfully my husband woke me up so I could get ready before they arrived to pick us up.

I'm still tired now, after a lengthy dinner on hard, wooden seats—something both my mother and I find uncomfortable.   So I'm cutting this short tonight and heading to bed.

The Big Boy Update:  My son had a full-on game of street hockey going today with some friends.   He's prone to staying inside, preferring something digital over physical.   Now that they've all played together with my son's street hockey set, maybe they'll do so more often.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My children were in the car with my parents going to dinner tonight.   My mother uncharacteristically said something harsh to my father, who had irritated her while she was driving.   My daughter said, "I don't like Mimi because she said mean things to my Grampsie."  Five minutes later she was back to thinking Mimi was the best in the world.   Such is the fast turning tide of emotions in children.

The Thing We Got Right

As parents, it feels like there are always things you got wrong, things you could have done better, or things you bumbled through without a clue what you were doing.   Rarely does parenthood feel like an easy job where all the answers were readily apparent and the decisions you made easily the best ones.

I don't see myself as an overly negative person, although you'd have to ask those who know me best to give you a true perspective.   Nor am I a perfectionist.   I don't expect to have everything perfect, my children's messy clothing and hair I submit as a prime example.   I do, however, like to get things right.   In parenting, it's hard to get things right a lot of the time. You learn this early on with children.   

Perhaps it's not getting it right so much as not getting it wrong.   Children are designed by nature, I think, to test you in the most rigorous of ways.  Once you think you've figured them out and have marshaled up the best answers, solutions, or even arguments, they change the game on you by maturing.   This happens again and again as your little parental educator machines figuratively rub it in your face by making you lose your temper at them, indicating they've won another round in the parents versus children game. 

On balance though, it's a rewarding job, this being a parent thing.   It's fun to watch small versions of you and your spouse grow up and learn to outwit you.   There's a certain pride that comes with knowing your children are smarter than you and you're going to have to step up your game, so they don't run roughshod over you.  

What's frustrating to me isn't so much that my children are learning tactics to get what they want—we figure those out (eventually) and implement countermeasures.  It's the things we should know as parents to make sure our children have the best chance for success in life, both physically and mentally, that it seems like we're failing at.   Maybe failing isn't the right word because I know we're not doing that poorly.   I wish we were doing a better job of things.  There may not be one right answer to everything or a time when action should be taken on something, but I want to get those decisions correct.   

And that's where I'm hardest on myself.    Because it seems like many of those decision points are made too late or the decision isn't the best choice or sometimes made at all.   That being said, I don't know that any parent believes they get everything right all the time.   I just don't like getting it wrong.  

One thing my husband and I have gotten right from the very beginning is supporting the other one when a decision is made.   It doesn't matter what it is, if one of us makes a decision, the other one supports it.  I didn't think about this until recently and then it just seemed natural to me.   If my husband says my son can watch an hour of YouTube and then has to go to bed, that's what's going to happen.   My children don't bother to go to the other parent to get a second opinion because they're the ones who will face the consequences if they "shopped" for a more favorable answer and are caught doing so.   

We'll ask them what the other parent said if it looks like they're doing something they might need permission for and at this point, they might lie, but not often as they're usually found out, which is never good.   I don't think the children are more inclined to ask one of us over the other because we're fairly similar in our decisions and thoughts on things.  

That's not to say my husband and I make the same decisions always, it happens sometimes that one of us will make a decision only to have the child exclaim that, "but dad told me I could..." statement.  Our answers are always something like, "okay, if that's what your father told you..." type of response. If we disagree with the other parent, we talk about it and adjust going forward with a better plan together on how to handle things.   

So even if we're getting things wrong (or not ideally right) at least we're getting them wrong together.  And that's something.   It feels like we're at least getting this one facet of parenting right.

The Big Boy Update:  My son desperately wants to watch YouTube.   He watches videos that aren't bad, but they're not that good either.   They're not educational and typically revolve around video games or movies.   Today, after a week's hiatus during the school days, I made him watch a lecture on black holes before he was granted precious YouTube time.   Tomorrow we will probably be lazy and let him watch some while we try to sleep in before we go to a mid-morning birthday party.   Tonight, he's happy.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter got a package today from Nana and Papa.   They mailed up her Cinderella dress and associated accessories from her special day at Disney.   She put it all on again and my mother and husband put her hair up using the large bun maker.   When my son and I got home from school she looked absolutely lovely.   We're going to take good care of all the items so she can dress up in them again and remember her time at Disney.

The Sauce Collection

After school, my son is hungry.  We had it on good advice from a thirteen-year-old who had been taking Adderall for several years that while at school, she was able to focus, but that her appetite was low.   After school, she found that as the medication waned, she was cranky and hungry.   Eating something helped her normalize for the rest of the day.  

We've found the same to be true for my son, so most days after school, we get him something to eat.   He will eat a large amount at 3:45 and then eat again come dinner time.  One of his favorite meals is Chick-Fil-A.   He likes to have their Polynesian sauce with his chicken.  On a few occasions, they forgot to give us sauce, so now he likes to ask for extra so we can stock up at home.

He's been building up stock for the past several weeks.   He keeps bringing out his "sauce collection" and organizing them into stacks and shapes.   Tonight he told me, "look, Mom, we have five bars of WiFi signal strength."   I didn't know what he meant until he pointed to this:

The Big Boy Update:  My son is very good at making representations of things with the very basic PlusPlus tiles.  This was what he created two nights ago:



On the left is the Kraken coming out of the ocean.   The middle one is a scene from Minecraft with a sword through what I think is one of the ghoul character's heart as he's coming out of the ground.   The right one is a scarecrow on the left and a tree with an eagle.  The scene spells out 'YEET' (my son's favorite word of late.)

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:   My daughter gave her Tigger stuffed animal to me the other day, asking if he could be washed.   She loves Tigger above all other stuffed animals.   She's never asked for anything to be washed before.   The laundry is running right now as I just got enough to fill a load.  My husband came downstairs from putting the children to bed.   He said she asked if Tigger had been washed yet, saying, "I gave him to mom weeks ago...like Monday."

Below Freezing Best Friend

Our dog could definitely be considered our family's best friend.  I think she likes every one of us, possibly being the most sensitive to my daughter's mental state.  She comes any time my daughter is upset and calls to her, letting my daughter cover her with her small, child's body while she wails, getting over whatever physical or mental insult she's sustained.

Both my son and daughter are good about letting the dog outside in the mornings.  Typically this is done by my daughter who gets up before the rest of us.   My husband, son and I are happy sleeping in and have to be roused by alarms to get up on school days.  

Both my son and daughter understand it's not fair to the dog to come into our bedroom in the morning where they are greeted by a happy dog who would like to go outside so she can relieve herself now that parts of the family is awake.   My son wasn't that into helping but we appealed to him, asking if he had to go to the bathroom in the morning, how would he like it if we told him he had to wait another hour or to before he was allowed.

It is common that by the time I'm up, my daughter has let the dog out and then brought her back in again.  This morning I got up to find my youngest child eating a pastry at the bar with her bottle of water beside her, listening to a story on the Amazon Echo beside her seat.

I asked her when she had let the dog out and was startled when she said, "oh, three o'clock, I think?  It was a while ago."   Seeing as it was twenty-four degrees at the time I exclaimed my alarm and worry about the dog and my daughter revised her story to say it was actually around five a.m.   It was after seven at this point which meant the dog had been out in sub-zero temperatures for at least two hours.

I ran outside to check on the dog, who happily greeted me as usual.   I bent down to check her and felt frozen saliva on her beard.   She wasn't upset or cold it would seem and came in as though nothing untoward had happened.  She loves cold weather and doesn't like coming in when it's nice and chilly outside.   It would seem she likes colder weather than we realized.

I still admonished the children to not leave her outside for long if it was near or below freezing.   They know how to ask Alexa for the temperature—they do so regularly to figure out the best clothing to wear for the day.   Yet again, Alexa helps and enables our family (and dog) in ways we never would have anticipated.

The Big Boy Update:  Blake picked my son up today after school and took him rock climbing.   I haven't seen them yet and it's dinner time.  I like that my son's school encourages social experiences after school instead of lots of homework.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  When asked recently if my daughter would want her sight back, she surprisingly said she didn't want to have her sight back.   Then she paused and added, "well, a little."  So she doesn't see her life as having a possibility of vision.  She does value the slight vision she has though.   As I was writing this, my daughter was in the middle of her music lesson.   She was in the basement apparently putting on a play.   She ran upstairs and I helped her find her Elsa dress and then ran back downstairs to keep working on the play.

I’m Bored to Death

I was coming back from taking my son to school this morning when my husband called me, asking when I'd be home.  I was doing a thing I do commonly: sitting in the car in the garage, checking emails on my iPad.   The car seat was warm in the sub-freezing weather, my coffee was in the cup holder in the console and the dog was asleep in the passenger seat.   It's a good place to get things done.

I said I'd be right in and asked what he needed?  He said my daughter was bored and wondered if my mother might be available to spend some time with her today.   I called my mother when we hung up and we made a plan for the day.  She was going to the store to get ingredients to make vegetable soup so the timing was good as my daughter could come over and help her cook it.   We planned to meet her and my father at Whole Foods for lunch and then they'd take her home for an afternoon of cooking and fun with the two of them.

My mother had an appointment mid-afternoon so I sent with my daughter two things: a MadLibs book and a Candyland game modified to be played with chocolate (one of those 5Below buys I couldn't pass up.)  I told them the MadLibs book had been cousin Olivia's when she was young.   While we ate lunch we read through some of the completed MadLibs Olivia completed years ago.

My daughter headed off to my parents.  I'll let her tell you about the soup making in her own words in her section below.   She played Candy Land with my mother.  She was the winner and got to eat the large chocolate coin for the winner but they saved the chocolate playing pieces so we could play here again sometime soon.

My daughter played MadLibs with my father.   She told me Grampsie (what she likes to call him) kept reading the sentences before asking for the words, instead of keeping the story until all the words were filled in.   She said, "he got it though after I reminded him."

Then,  after all that fun, my daughter arrived home.   After a whole afternoon of fun with my parents, not five minutes after she was home she informed her father, "I'm bored to death."   Such is the plight of a child on track out.

The Big Boy Update:  I asked my daughter what to write about for my son's update today.   She told me he did some knitting work.   He brought home a small wall hanging he made in art class using yarn on a small loom.   We have a lot of artwork coming home lately from my son.  He likes doing all sorts of things in art class which is filtering over to home during his spare time.   He is quite creative with the things he comes up with.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  (My daughter's words) I made vegetable soup with Mimi today.  I cut the carrots and celery.  I cooked the beans and I taste-tested everything to make sure they were ready.  Then I tasted the soup.  It was delicious.  And then we lived happily ever after.  One more thing—and we played hide and go seek before we left.   Do you know why we played hide and go seek?  Because it's my favorite game.

The Hair Salon

My daughter and her best friend, Madison, like to do their hair.   They've sequestered various hair tools and accessories in their "secret hideout" otherwise known as the guest room bathroom and closet.  Most of their hair salon involves wetting their hair and brushing it.   Sometimes they put headbands, hair ties or hair clips in their hair.

My daughter loves to make styles up on the dummy head I have (named 'Creepy').   When she does this she pulls out my drawer of hair tools.  I asked her if she'd like some of the items up in their secret hideout for when they played hair salon.   My daughter was definitely interested and asked for a few things she liked but didn't have many of like small hair clips.

This morning I went to the dollar store and got a collection of things for her and Madison to use.   At home, I went through all the hair accessories I'd gotten over the years for her hair that I didn't use, including going to the attic and getting some things I'd retired.  

I set them up with lots of things to try, including foam hair rollers I got from the dollar store.  My daughter found places to store all the items in the drawers in the hideout's bathroom, including a water spray bottle so they could wet their hair without putting their heads in the sink and getting the towels wet in the process of drying their hair.   I'm interested in what they'll come up with next.   I want to teach my daughter some things but she doesn't want to learn something until she's ready.  Right now she's in the, "I already know that" mode, even when she doesn't know what I'm talking about.

The Hide and Go Seek Closet:  As I was taking the hair things up to the secret hideout with my daughter this afternoon, my son followed.   They told me to not enter yet with the understanding they were going to hide in the little closet and I was to find them.   This is not a big closet, you can touch all the sides standing the middle of the roughly square-shaped space.   What there is, that worked to their advantage, was a lot of stuff: blankets, pillows, stuffed animals, toys, etc.   When I came around the corner I couldn't see either of them.   My son was on a shelf up, hidden behind a large, watermelon bean bag.   My daughter was up on the very top shelf, in a ball with her back against two other large stuffed animals.   I didn't see her there at first.  They wanted a second go-round so I went out into the bedroom and counted to twenty.   When I got back my son was under a pile of blankets, giving away his position by his squirming.   My daughter was in a tiny cubby at the top, back corner of the closet.  I told her I was duly impressed and explained to them what the word, "contortionist" meant.

This & That & Other Stuff

Let's see, what's been happening around here lately?  My husband took my son to see Star Wars this afternoon, the children made a glorious mess of the bonus room, which was already in a state with a fort built from the sixty-four large piece fort set Santa brought the children.   They had added appendages on so many times there wasn't much bonus room left that hadn't been "fortified."  It all came crashing down when a group of boys was in there playing midday. 

My husband spent a good bit of time disassembling things before the movie, and I took over to finish the job with my daughter's help while they were at the movie.   My daughter and her best friend, Madison, had piled more things into their secret closet in the guest room, so she and I de-cluttered it to the extent that you could manage to get without climbing over things.

Madison and my daughter had used some of the fort pieces to build a large wall at the edge of the bunk beds, something I was expecting my son to be unhappy about on account of it was change in the room (which he hates).  He didn't like it but refrained from tearing it down upon threat of an unnamed consequence (which is the best kind).

I had a bad day, staying in bed a lot of the day.   I can't decide if I'm just lazy and wanted to have a day off or if it was pain-based.   Sometimes it's hard to tell with me.   I don't like the amount of medication I have to take to control the nerve pain.   I had another injection in my spine a few weeks ago, which stirred things up pain-wise, but we're hopeful it's a good sign that we've found the right spot inflammation-wise and things will ultimately settle down and be better than before the two injections.   For now, I do the best I can, which I beat myself up over because I'm not as active as I think I should be.

I walked the dog the other day and should probably get more exercise than the occasional weekend race.   My husband and I have some goals we'd like to meet for diet, exercise, and weight.   I need to reduce the amount of sugar I'm consuming.   The holiday candy, cookies, and other sweets are largely gone, which should help things.

That's a random summary of things happening here.   The children are off school tomorrow for Martin Luther King day, so they stayed up late tonight.  My daughter was able to stay up and hopefully has been able to shift back her sleep schedule to more normal times instead of falling asleep at five o'clock in the evening and waking up at four a.m.

Family Jewelry Competition:  I challenged the children to a jewelry-making competition tonight with a bead set they got years ago, which has gone unplayed with for a long time.   They enthusiastically created things for well over an hour, asking me to take pictures of their creations for the judging (which never happened) and for putting in my blog post.   Here are some of the things they made in the first round before we decided to try and connect every bead in the set for the longest necklace possible.

Winner of the most color-coordinated necklace

Winner of the gaudiest ring

Winner of the most asymmetrical necklace and largest centerpiece by my daughter

Winner of the non-jewelry category: my son's laser spy bracelet

Not Thirty Seconds...

My husband and daughter are home from their Disney trip with Nana and Papa.   They were scheduled to arrive mid-morning but the plane they were taking from Orlando was stuck up north in bad weather.   They worked on alternate travel options but in the end, they didn't get home until close to six o'clock this evening.

My son, the dog and I got in the car and circled the airport once before they made it curbside for pickup.   My husband said, "how are we going to control the enthusiasm?" referring to the dog, who was about to wag her backside off in the passenger seat.   My husband got in and handed her back to the children in the backseat and the dog began happy pouncing on my daughter throwing in licks wherever she could land on skin.

My daughter was equally happy to see the dog.   We had a happy family reunion for all of about thirty seconds before the bickering started in the back seat—over who got to pet the dog, who is large enough to be attended to by all four arms and both of their bodies.   We tried not to intervene, but it escalated and for the life of me, I couldn't understand how after a week apart, the two of them could be reduced to squabbling so quickly.

We issued multiple rounds of stern words and warnings and they came to some sort of a truce by the time we'd arrived home fifteen minutes later.   It didn't end there, though, with my son being unhappy about my daughter and me singing Frozen songs on account of it was "loud" and he couldn't hear his already loud television in the living room.   He was reminded we had to listen to his television and didn't pitch a fit at him, so he was going to have to deal with some level of competing sound.

It would seem our happy family is back together again.  It wasn't all bad.   We were all happy to see each other and it's nice to have the house filled with our whole family once more.   I think the time apart gave us each a taste of what it's like to be an only child (or the parent of an only child).  I'm an only child myself so the experience I have growing up is that of being the only child in the house with two parents.   I hear from people who grew up with siblings or have multiple children that this is normal.   If with everything we have going on, we're normal, I'll take the bickering.

The Soon To Be Separated Children:  My children have been asking on and off to be separated into their own bedrooms.   We know this is going to happen eventually, but we're not sure when the best time will be yet.   We've been in open discussions with them both individually and together about what it will mean, what furniture they'll have in their rooms, who will move out and where they'll be moving to.   They decided together my daughter will be the one to move out.   My son thinks even though he wanted to move to the bottom bed many times over the past few years that he will stay in the top bunk instead of relocating to the bottom, full-sized bed.  I think he might change his mind later on that though.   I've told them they will have their desks moved into their rooms from the bonus room so when they have work to do, they'll be able to go to their rooms to do so.   This is in preparation for post-primary school years when they'll have more work at home.   My son changed his mind when I told him about the desks tonight (on account of this involves change and he hates change).  He decided he wanted to stay together until he was a teenager, probably until he was fifteen, he said.   He said one more thing, which I think maybe more important for now for my daughter, which is she doesn't like sleeping alone.   Case in point, my daughter went to bed a half-hour ago and messaged down via Alesa asking if someone could come upstairs to the room with her because she was scared.

To Ride Them All

Today was my daughter's last day at Disney.   They (my in-laws, husband, and daughter) decided they were going to try and ride every roller coaster across three parks for their day.   It was a tall order and something only achievable by utilizing the fast passes they had plus the extra one my daughter had because of her disability.

My daughter, my husband told me, appears to be an extreme thrill-seeker.   From a Disney park perspective, this is a good thing because so much of the parks require seeing to enjoy.  Roller coasters are benefited by sight, to be sure, especially all the theme-based decoration and exhibits surrounding each ride, but for the ride itself, it's the motion she likes.  And the faster the motion, the better.

My husband told me they started at Hollywood Studios and rode the Rock 'n' Roll Roller Coaster and then the Slinky Dog Dash.  They headed to the Animal Kingdom and rode Everest next.   They took a break for lunch at the Rainforest Cafe and then were headed to the Magic Kingdom where they had passes for Space Mountain and Thunder Mountain.  Before they left though, they were able to get a second-round in on The Rock 'n' Roll Roller Coaster.  They finished their day off with the Mine Cart ride and the small barnstormer coaster.

They come home in the morning.  My daughter is excited to tell her brother all about what he has to look forward to when he goes to Disney on his school break next month.

The Big Boy Update:  My son had his school Winterfest recital today.   He and his fellow classmates sang and danced to songs in Spanish and English.   They also showed off their creative artwork.   My son had a surprise piece he'd been working on that was entirely of his choosing at free art time.   His art teacher was particularly proud of his African Fish Eagle.   They helped him come up with the best way to design and create it.   Other parents commented on it.   My mother and I, who attended the event, were duly impressed with the eagle and accompanying report:



The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter walked 22,232 steps today at Disney.  My husband checked the history on her watch.   Today is the most steps she's ever done in a single day.   She walked all day long.

Winterfest and the Possible Haircut

Tomorrow my son is participating in Winterfest, his school's holiday recital.   It's been on the last day before the winter break in the past.   I'm rather glad it's moved to this time instead.   He knows his father won't be able to make it since they're at Disney.   I'm supposed to record some of it for them to see.

Today my son went on a field trip to the location for tomorrow's recital.  He's practiced and ready now.   When I picked him up today I was ready to take him to get a hair cut to surprise his father when they got home on Saturday as well as having him look nice for the recital.   He said he didn't want to get his hair cut when I picked him up though.

He has been complaining about his hair length.   Even this morning before going to school he had me try with the brush and some water to get his hair to calm down some.   This is due to the length of his hair.   Cutting it would make a big difference.   We'll see if he changes his mind by dinner time.  Maybe we'll go get food and a haircut yet today.

The Big Boy Update:  My son told me there was a bee around the trampoline yesterday.   Today they came back and told me the same thing.   I went to see and they were correct, a very large bumblebee type of bee was lying on the mat, lethargic but not dead.   I removed it from the area and told them it was good they'd come to get an adult to help.   We would rather an adult be sure things were safe instead of risking them getting stung.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  I think I'm going to have my husband write a detailed blog post here about the trip he and my daughter took to Disney with my in-laws.  Today I'll write about something I wrote down a week or two ago.   My daughter was outside when our next-door neighbor, Bryna, came outside and said in that happy adult talking to a child voice, "when did you get so big?"   My daughter immediately responded with confidence, "like three years ago."

It’s Better In the Back

It would appear we have a thrill seeker in the family.   My daughter is a roller coaster junkie.  Actually, it doesn't have to be a roller coaster—it could be fast,  harrowing, scary, spinny or anything with motion.

My husband and in-laws have created a shared album into which they're uploading pictures from their trip.   After school today, Mimi, my son and I looked at the pictures thus far.   We watched a video of her on the Everest ride, talking about escaping from the yeti.   I asked my husband how he filmed it and hs said, "by holding on very, very tightly to my phone."

My daughter was told by her father and grandparents that if you want to get the best motion from a roller coaster, you want to sit in the last row of seats.  She wasn't sure what they were talking about until she was able to ride in the back row.   As they went over the hill she said, "oh my gosh, this is better!"

My daughter had a meeting with Tigger.  She happened to have her small Tigger stuffed animal which has been number one with her for a long time now.   Tigger was very happy about meeting his smaller self.  

The Big Boy Update:  My son and I went to the Gregg Museum with my mother after school.   We saw some 3D printed based on DNA samples from cigarette butts picked up on the street.  The donors of the DNA will never be known, nor will the estimate of face shape be proven accurate or inaccurate.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter decided to get done up as Cinderella last night for a special dinner in Cinderella's castle.   My mother-in-law wanted to show me how cute my daughter was in her large dress so she Facetimed me.   I was in the tub.   We tried to make sure we didn't shock anyone on Mainstreet Disney by me

A Park With Mimi

Last night while I was at a board meeting my mother came over to stay with my son.  As I was leaving I went over multiple things about screen time.   Things like how he had only thirty minutes remaining and that if he tried to negotiate or throw a tantrum (he was gearing up for the tantrum route) that the screen time he would have would be less.  

I hated to leave my son is an angry state as I left not a moment later to attend my meeting.   What I didn't expect was to come home to some creative teamwork they had done together.  My son has been working with PlusPlus interlocking pieces for four years now.   It's interesting what he can create from the very basic shape.

Mimi started it, she said, making a rather basic bench.   My son decided they should make a park   He took over at this point and created the swings (which really swing), slide, fancy park bench (Victorian era my mother suggested), pond and rainbow.  



The Big Boy Update:  My son needs to learn his math facts more solidly.   Math facts vary depending on the curriculum but in general, it refers to rote memory of addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division for numbers up through ten or twelve.   My son is on his iPad trying to get as many math facts as possible so he can have some free

The Cinderella Princess Chronicles:  My daughter is dressed up like Cinderella currently at a dinner in Cinderella's castle.   She has had a wonderful time so far, only I can't write about it becuase I'm not there.   I'm going to let me husband take over and write this blog for a day so he can hit all the high points.   Suffice it to say, she is having a very special time at Disney/

Half of Us

Your sense of "home" changes to accommodate your situation.   For me, home went from living with my parents to living in a dorm to living on my own with roommates.   Later, I bought a house and my sense of home changed to be "my home," which was an exciting thing—to own my own townhome.   Granted, there was a hefty mortgage associated with it, but it was my home nonetheless.

Years later I got married and my mental picture of home became one that included my husband.   And then sometime later again I added two children to the picture.  My home is now "our home" and is invaded by children daily, visited by family and friends from time to time and is just about the homiest place I can imagine, which is a good thing, because we're not planning on going anywhere any time soon. 

When only part of our family is here, things seem quiet.   Quieter than expected.   If you'd have told me ten years ago I would be fine with eight young children rampaging through the house on a daily basis, I wouldn't have been able to imagine it.   Which is why even though I have a child with me now, the absence of my husband and daughter makes the house seem unnaturally quiet. 

My husband called me this morning and said things were already going really well at Disney with my daughter.   This is good, they had planned out what they thought would be a fun trip for her.

The Big Boy Update:  My son has been pestering me to play Cat Quest 2 for some time now.   I have promised him when this blog post is complete, I will play alongside him on my iPad and see if I can catch up with him.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter was saying, "The Magical Kingdom" instead of, "The Magic Kingdom" yesterday.  My husband told her the correct name but she said, "I don't care, I'm still going to call it The Magical Kingdom.   When they walked through the gates this morning she called out, "Yay, we're in The Magical Kingdom"

Lottery Lesson

My daughter and husband left this afternoon to meet Nana and Papa in Orlando to spend five days at Disney.   More on that when I hear more.   For now, they've arrived with their luggage (which was in question upon departure). They were picked up by Nana and Papa to head to their hotel.   On the way home my son and I got into a conversation about, "winning a million dollars".

I can't remember how the conversation got started but as we were going to get Qdoba for dinner right beside a gas station, I decided to give him a lesson about lotteries and winning percentages.   For the majority of the ride, we talked about how the large lotteries incremented in value each week there was no winner—even though millions of people bought tickets.

How could it be that no one won, week after week, when so many people bought tickets?  I told him we'd get a lottery ticket, which cost only a dollar for a single entry.  I told him we had to get all six numbers correct to win the big prize.   Only these numbers weren't from one to ten, they were from one to seventy.   We talked about how, if he picked a single number, and I tried to guess it, how often I might guess it correctly on the first try?

Then, supposing I got that first number correct, I had to guess his second number—and get it right on the first try.   That had to happen six times in a row, with no second guesses, no mistakes.   The idea was one thing and I think he understood to some degree.   I gave him a different statistic, telling him if we bought five lottery tickets every week, we'd win the lottery once every one hundred twenty thousand years.  It's just that improbable.

And that's why it takes so many people, so many tickets, for someone to win.  So why buy a ticket then, I asked him?   Different people buy tickets for different reasons, I said.   It could be for fun or hope.   For whatever reason, lots of tickets are sold and winners win huge sums of money.  I said his father liked to buy a ticket when the winning amount got to be really high and that when he was older he could choose if he wanted to buy tickets himself.

My son said if our ticket won, it was his money since he picked the numbers.   I was buying the ticket with my money, I said, and he wasn't legally old enough to buy a ticket, but if we won, the money would be the family's money and to be sure, he would benefit from it.   Only, it wasn't as much money as it seemed, I said

I talked to him about how the stated amount was a multi-year payout total, but if the winner wanted the money all at once, the amount was about half.   And then I said there was another large portion that went to the government for taxes.   But in the end, it was still a lot of money.

When I got the ticket, I also got several $1 scratch-off cards.  I gave him a coin and went in to get our dinner while he and the dog waited in the car and he worked on the tickets.   When we arrived home, we looked at the cards, and he saw how the largest payouts were much smaller than the big lottery one, and I explained how that meant there was a greater chance to win $10,000 on a scratch-off card.   I told him there was a chance we would win a few dollars, but it was quite probable we would win nothing.

In the end, we won nothing.   He asked if it was a waste of money?   I said if we needed that money for other things, it would be important to decide if we would take the chance on a lottery ticket where we could easily lose our money versus paying a bill or buying food.   In our case today, did he have fun, I asked?  He said he, did and I said then it was worth it so he could learn how lottery tickets worked.

He knows when the drawing is for the large lottery later this week.   I told him we'd look online to see if we won anything but to not get his hopes up too much, this was already multiple weeks in with no winner yet and regardless, our chances to win were very, very slim indeed.

The Big Boy Update:  My son wanted to watch something on television just before bed tonight.   I told him if he got ready for bed early and was willing to help me with the laundry while he watched, I was in agreement.  He agreed, got ready quickly, picked a show and started in on the laundry.  I was surprised how quickly he was turning clothes inside out and sorting them.  Just a few months ago he protested it was too difficult and acted as though he couldn't possibly figure out how to turn anything right side out.   Tonight, he worked swiftly and silently while he watched television.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter held on tightly to the dog before we drove off to take her to the airport.   She was in the back seat, her body draped over the dog in what looks like a stranglehold that the dog doesn't seem to mind in the slightest.   She said, "Matisse, I'm going to miss you so much."  She gave the dog another hug at the airport before getting out.   She didn't seem to be as torn up about leaving her brother me.   There is no love like the love of a dog.

The Ice Canoe

My cousin and I ran a 5K today.   It was in a park with a natural, wide path through a wooded area that is laid out specifically for walking, running, and on some weekends, races.  Both she and I had run in separate races at this location, so we knew the course well.

The race was well run, the weather was almost seventy degrees (in January!), and aside from being quite windy, it was a perfect day for a race.   My cousin and I used the time to chat and catch up.   I'm reasonably sure she and I would never run out of things to talk about.   We finished the race, picked up our medal and race mug, and headed home.

While we were gone, Uncle Dale had helped my children build a fort in the bonus room.  There was a watchtower with a cross boy (Nerf) ready to fend off intruders.   Blankets, furniture, and other items had been added to fortify the fort.   It's a masterpiece of work.   I suspect it will remain standing for some time.

After showering, my cousin and I took my daughter to 5 Below so she could select some items for her Christmas present.   My daughter loves this store.   She and Aunt Rebecca walked around with Aunt Rebecca describing the merchandise on the shelves, letting my daughter feel them.   They discussed what she might want to put back and what would be a good use of her money.

There was a lot of Frozen II merchandise.   I picked up a plush Olaf and let my daughter feel him, pointing out the sticks for arms and on his head, his carrot nose, and the general shape of his snowman body.  I told her how Anna had taken those items as well as the coal (rocks?) that made up his buttons and put them in her bag when he evaporated at one point in the movie and how later when he came back, she still had them to put back on his body.

These kinds of opportunities I don't get very often where I can let her feel the exact shape of something she knows about but can't see.   She was able to see when the first Frozen movie came out, and I believe she has a memory of Olaf, but it was an excellent chance to show her his shape again.

On the next shelf, there was a toy with Anna in the ice canoe Elsa created at one point in the movie that she used to send Anna and Olaf to safety.   It was a specific shape and not something that I could easily describe in words.   I brought it over to my daughter and let her feel its shape, reminding her where it was in the movie.

We see so much.   A picture truly is worth a thousand words.   The inverse is it takes a thousand words to fully describe something.  As a result, very few things are fully described to my daughter.   She gets a picture, "in her mind's eye," as she says.   Mostly, those pictures are largely incomplete or inaccurate.   It was nice to be able to let her feel the shape of a few things from the movie she sings the songs from constantly.

The Big Boy Update: My son came and told me the other day" something made me sad today. Madison came back and now they don't want to play with me."   He and the two girls don't get on well much together because my son wants to direct the play in a way they don't enjoy.   He does so with a forcefulness that usually causes conflict ending with them not wanting to play with him.   We've been trying to give him guidance on how to do cooperative play.   This morning he did a good job and he, my daughter and Madison got along for a good while playing together.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter came inside crying bitterly this afternoon.   I came to see what had happened.   She had remembered our dog, Lucy, who died some years ago while we were driving home from vacation.   Lucy didn't interact with the children much, mostly eating food they dropped to her.   My daughter suddenly missed her, saying she loved her more than Matisse and she never wanted to leave here (where we live) and move away from where Lucy was buried in the back yard.   Her big emotions passed in a few minutes but only after I told her Lucy would always be in our yard and she could always come to see her, even if she grew up, moved away, got married and had her own children.

5K, No Dog

My cousin, Rebecca, and I are running in a 5K race tomorrow.   I won't be racing.   I have never once raced.   I've shot for completing instead of racing.   I don't race to beat my best time.   I just run to have fun.

Tomorrow's race will be raising money for the local SPCA.   If you'd like to run with your dog, you can.   My dog might want to run, but since I don't run with her (or run in general) she isn't prepared to do any length of running.   So instead, I'm running with Rebecca.

Or, rather, I should say I'm running with her.   She asked me if I'd like to run with her.   She's coming from out of town for the race.   She and Dale arrived earlier today and while the two ladies went to get our race packets, we left Uncle Dale jumping on the trampoline with my daughter, son and next-door neighbor, Madison.

The weather is going to be very warm for January and the race doesn't start until eleven o'clock.   That's my kind of January race.

The Big Boy Tiny Girl Sleep Situation:  My son could easily stay up past midnight suffering no ill-effects in the morning.   My daughter can't manage to stay awake until bedtime.   This morning she was up before five AM after falling asleep early.   She had woken my son up and made him mad because she was reading aloud in the closet, where he had decided to sleep in his sleeping bag.   The two of them came downstairs to wake us up to settle the fight they were in that had gotten physical.   Rarely does my husband yell but this morning he had had enough.   We tried to keep my daughter awake tonight past seven o'clock but she fell asleep on the ottoman in the living room with things happening all around her.   Eventually, after failing to wake her up, my husband changed her into pajamas in the living room and then took her up to bed.  

Kevo

I name things.   Or rather I like to name things.   I like a name that has some creativity, shows you thought about the thing, isn't something overused or worn out and has some personal meaning.  I spent a lot of time thinking about names for our children.   I had even kept a list of potential baby names for the twenty years prior to when I actually became pregnant because I knew picking names for my children would be the biggest naming event of my life.

I'm one of those people that sits at the login screen on a game and tries name after name until I get something that's not already taken that doesn't have 37 or 21 added to the end.   My husband knows this and therefore lets me name things around the house when a unique identifier needs to be selected.

I've named all of our network servers and WiFi access points.   The computer-related things like this are really his domain,  but he knows I'll be unhappy in the bringing it up way too many times over the life of the thing if I dislike the name he picked, so he lets me make the decision.

Sometimes I name things that don't necessarily need a name.  We could have called our iRobot Roomba that was my Christmas present by either of those two names but I told the children and him I'd named him Kevo.   I'm not sure what gender most people perceive their Roomba's to be, but mine seems male.

No one asked why I choose the name or if it meant anything.  It wasn't until a few days ago that we had friends over and one of them asked.  Kevo is Greek for vacuum.   And it sounded nice.   And male.  I talk to Kevo a lot.   I like to tell him he's doing a good job.

Today as he came out of our closet and didn't sound well.   I went over and picked him up.   I wasn't sure what was supposed to happen but he calmed down when I flipped him over.  There was a large ball of hair from the hairstyling dummy that my daughter had probably let fall to the floor in the living room on Kevo's little sweeper arm.   But the best part was the other thing he picked up on his cleaning route:

The Big Boy Update:   My son played street hockey today with the other boys on the street.   This is a good thing.   He doesn't interact with them in group outdoor sports that often.   Hopefully, he'll want to do more now that they've found something in common across the group to play.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter, mother and I went to see Frozen II this afternoon.   I haven't been to a movie with my mother for a long, long time.   I enjoyed seeing the movie again with the two of them.

Hair Styling

I don't remember as a child having very long hair.  From pictures, I know it was shoulder-length for much of my primary school years and was put up on the front sides to get it out of my face with those figure eight elastic bands that sported a plastic marble on either end.   Other than that, I don't think my mother or I did much with my hair.

I do have memories of tangled hair as I got older, with the responsibility on me to brush it out.   I must have avoided this task for enough time that it was an endeavor to get them out when I did get around to brushing.   In this way, my daughter is a lot like I was: her hair tangles easily without regular brushing, and she has zero interest in brushing her hair.

When I got older, I wanted to have long hair.  I don't remember my mother ever requiring me to have short or long hair, so the choice must have been mine on length.   My hair was thick, frizzy, and curly and was something I never liked.  From time to time, I would get frustrated enough with it and cut it shorter.  On one occasion in seventh grade, I  cut it very shor.  I was mortified the next day when people at school mistook me for a boy.   Since that incident, I've never had short hair again.

What I wanted was long, long hair.  There was the frustration of the frizzy, curly mass of hair that never looked good long, no matter what I did to it.   I tried straightening it, which worked, pulling out the curl, but left all the frizz.   That was another experiment I never repeated.   Relatively recently, the evolution of keratin treatment finally gave me the type of hair I could manage at longer lengths.  It smoothed my hair, also removing the curls.  Flat iron technology also advanced, giving me the ability to dry my hair and add smooth curls back to enough degree that I've been able to have long, stylable hair.

For my daughter, I wanted her to have long hair as well, although other than adding hair products before drying her hair, her hair is all-natural.   She and I have long hair now.   I've been interested in doing various styles to her hair, including intricate braids or other ways of styling it to get her out of her face.   Except my daughter doesn't want me to style her hair.

I got a hair styling dummy on Amazon for the shockingly low price of $17.99 including shipping to practice on since my daughter wasn't interested in me honing my skills on her head.   I've watched a good number of videos on different styles, and now and then, my daughter will let me do something simple on her, but not often.

Then, a week or so ago, she and Madison got interested in doing each other's hair.  This week while she's been home without her brother who is now back in school, she asked if she could do styles on the hair dummy.   I set her up with the dummy head on a tripod and brought the spray bottle of water and hair accessories out for her to work with.   She's been showing me her styles (very minimal, including mostly twisting hair and clipping it up on the top of the dummy's head).

Today, my daughter unexpectedly asked me if I could style her hair.   She asked me if I knew "Dragon Braid," which I think she made up, but I knew it was actually a thing.   While I worked on her hair, she styled the dummy's head.   I think she likes her hair being done in a special way.   Maybe now she'll let me do her hair more often.

The Big Boy Math Question:  Interrupting the conversation at a table of ten at dinner over the holidays my son asked, "when was the last time you divided by thirty?"

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter has a lot of work to do over the holidays.   She's getting close to finishing reading her big book now.  What she hasn't been doing is writing journal entries every day.   She's starting to catch up, but she has a lot of writing to do each day.  Fortunately, that's easy for her.  Today, she went through a whole package or review material for The Braille Challenge, which is coming up next month.   The good news is she sort of likes doing the work.

Solved!

I've been a bit obsessed with the Rubiks Cube my daughter got from her uncles this Christmas.   So much so that I ordered a competition cube for me as well as the lubrication oil of a very specific viscosity needed to lubricate said competition cube.

The new cube arrived and it moved much more freely than my daughter's tactile cube, which is saying a lot, because her cube moves quite well.   When I got the lubricant I took the cube apart completely, including the screws and washers and followed an exhaustive list of spots needing lubrication before reassembling the cube.

The next thing I had to do was tension the cube appropriately.   This is to taste, but considering I have no experience in speed solving (or really solving at all) I was at a bit of a loss for a while, tightening here and there until I got a feel for what was too loose and what was just right.   I think I have it about right now.

I've been taking both my cube and my daughter's cube in my purse all over the place for when I have a spare moment.   I learned the basic algorithms for solving the cube.   The "beginner" ones that go in a certain order without taking into account any specifics of the scramble.   There are lots of shortcuts, requiring memorizing lots of additional algorithms.

I watched one video that said, "you should be able to solve the cube in under a minute-and-a-half before starting to learn these moves."   Well heck, I'd only solved it a handful of times without messing up at some point, having to backtrack and redo steps before successfully returning the cube to its original state.   I'd never timed myself.   I'm not sure I was solving the cube in under ten minutes.

But I understand more now why he might say that.   The more solves I do, the better an understanding I'm getting of how the pieces move relative to how you're rotating parts of the cube.   Even so, when I look at the long list of shortcut algorithms and try to match them to the various scenarios I encounter in my scrambles, well, I mostly go back to the basic method.

I've had lots of people interested when they see me working on the Rubiks Cube.   I've had both cubes at two parties and adults see them and light up, recounting stories from when they were younger.   People love the tactile cube that's my daughter's.   I've shown people tips and they've tried to remember how they solved the cube from years past—some successful and some not.

Today, my husband took one of the cubes and started moving it around.   He asked what the process was and I took him through the first part before he had to take a phone call.   Later, we came back and I helped him solve it for the first time.   Tonight, I showed him again and he successfully solved it two more times.   I know him, he memorizes things quickly.   He's very good with anything physical. Right now, my best time is 2:17 to solve the cube, and that was with a lucky scramble that saved me several steps.   I'm betting by next week he'll be killing my best times.

The Big Boy Update:  My son came downstairs saying he'd had a nightmare—about seven minutes after he went to bed.  This is his typical nightmare of the "I can't get to sleep and want to spend time with you" sort.   Tonight he got on the bed, asked my husband and me to move over so he could fit in between us, and watched me teaching his father how to solve the Rubiks Cube.   He took over mine and worked on the first layer with my help until we sent him back to bed.   It would be fun if he got interested in solving the entire cube.   For now, he's more interested in moving the pieces around to see what he can figure out.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  After a doctor's appointment yesterday, my daughter wanted to know if she could go spend a little of her money at a store.   I agreed and we talked about how much money she might want to spend and if she wanted to buy things for her, the dog or her friends.   She ended up getting several things, one of which was from a selection of $5 perfumes.   She smelled over twenty testers until she finally settled on "Mysterious Beach."   Then this morning one of those moments happen when you're a parent of a blind child.   Sometimes your child will say something to you that shows just how much they don't know that we take for granted.   She came to me and asked if she could have a small paintbrush.  I asked her what she needed it for.   She told me it was for the fingernail polish she'd selected the day before—polish that she'll never see the color of.   She didn't even know there was a brush included in the tops of all bottles.   She was happy when I told her about it and interested when I showed her how it worked.   There was no way other than to let her feel the stalk and brush, getting polish all over her fingers.   But now she knows.

Master Carpet

We've had the hardwood floors in our master bedroom for almost a month now.   I am very pleased we decided to have them put in.   The transition from the hallway into the bedroom had to be redone so the threshold had continuous wood planks coming in at the different lengths, standard to hardwood floor installations.

Martin, who did our original floors and updated our master last month, did such a good job you can't tell where the old boards end and the new ones begin.  You can't tell any difference from the floors in the other areas to the new floors in the master bedroom.   It's beautiful and I love it.

There is a different feeling in the room now.   It feels cooler and yet warmer at the same time.   We have a natural finish, meaning there is no color added to the floors in the polyurethane.  It has a warm, dark honey look and feels welcoming while at the same time having an air of organized cleanliness.

I made some changes in the room that have been long overdue.   Since moving here when my son was one week old, we've had a laundry basket at the side of the long dresser.  This was ideal initially as we had the changing station for my son and then my daughter on that dresser.   We'd pull off the soiled onesie and drop it straight into the basket without ever having to take our hand off the squirming child.  

But that was some years ago and it was high time for the laundry basket to move into the closet.   My children resisted the change with loud complaints.   At the end of each day, they change into pajamas, which we keep in a drawer in our bedroom.  It was easy for them to put their day clothes into the basket in our room but an unreasonable request (so they claimed) to have to walk to the closet instead—even though they were getting in the tub just adjacent to the closet.

I held firm and told them I realized it was wholly unreasonable for us to ask them to take the extra ten steps to the new location, but sadly (for them), the basket wasn't coming back.   They adjusted.   It took all of three days and the complaints stopped.  

The other update was a stylish trash can.   A friend mentioned the utilitarian black plastic trash can and how it didn't seem fitting in our bedroom.   But it was large and, well, I didn't really have any other comment about it because when we moved in it was available and I'd just stuck it there, not thinking much about style, only functionality.  

It was a good point though, so I ordered brushed stainless steel fashionable trash can that had a good bit less in the way storage but sported a higher degree of style.  I see it as I sit here in my "office" while I type these blog posts, read my daughter's braille homework and check email.  I like it.

There have been multiple discussions about what carpet to add to the room. Where the carpet would be, what size and if there would be more than one carpet such as one on either side of the bed.   In the absence of any clear decision, we have gone with hardwood only in the room.   And it's turned out that's what we like.   Which makes things easy.   I like no carpet.  Hardwoods coupled with the Roomba that was my Christmas present and love the clean feeling smooth hardwoods under my feet.

As we thought about the carpet I remembered my parent's house as a child.   At one point (I believe, I was young) they decided to remove the carpet from their bedroom and redo the hardwoods underneath.   When they had them refinished they decided to get an oriental rug to put in the room.   I was a bit baffled because the rug was about the size of the room, leaving only the edges of the hardwoods visible.   The room looked lovely, but as a child, I didn't understand why they did all that work only to have almost the same result end the end.   Today, as an adult, I can understand.

They Were So Sorry For Me:  I made a mistake today.   I knew my schedule for the day in the morning but I forgot mid-day as we talked about going to see Frozen II again as a family.   We were all excited until I suddenly realized I had a steroid injection in my spine right slam in the middle of the movie.   I was very disappointed.   It was the last day of the holiday break for my son and the last day we could go to the movie together.   My husband had even bought me a ticket.   I was disappointed.   My children both told me more than once they were so sorry I couldn't go.   They wished I could go and were sad I wasn't going to be able to join them.   They were very sweet about it.

Pavlovian Response

My son was wanting to earn some screen time this afternoon and the dog was wanting to burn some energy.   I could tell, because every time I went outside to see if she wanted to come in, she would grab the long stick I'd gotten for her earlier in the day from the far back yard and get in the play crouch.

I offered a trade to my son: play fetch with the dog for screen time.   He wasn't sure but decided to try it.   I put the dog's training collar on and met him outside.   I took the dog off her runner chain and got a tennis ball.   My daughter joined us with her fuzzy crocks from Nana and heavy winter coat and pulled the hood up, putting her hair in more disarray than it already was.

I told them both, very firmly, that no matter how much the dog might want them to throw the stick, they must never, ever do so.   I explained that she anticipated where they might throw and that she could easily get hit in the face by a rapidly moving and spinning stick.   They could play tug with the stick all they wanted with her, however.

I demonstrated to my son how to throw the ball and then call the dog back.   With me, since I've been doing this for a while, she fetches the ball, comes towards me and drops it in front of me for the next throw.   This is something that has to be learned though.   By default, they want you to grab for the ball and then wrestle to gain control of it.   If you can get the ball, that is.   There is a lot of keep-a-way behavior as well.   You have to teach the dog that the only way you're going to interact with the ball and throw it again is if they drop it in front of you.

At this point, Matisse comes to me and drops the ball.   But that's with me.   I wanted to have my son elicit the same behavior with her.   My son had an idea which I loved: he got his tennis racket and was hitting the ball with it for longer distance.   He and I worked for a bit and made progress on her coming to him and dropping the ball.   We still have work to do though.

I used the training collar twice, hoping it would give her clarity on coming to him instead of me after getting the ball.   It turned out just having him say, "come!" in a firm voice was a better way to give her guidance.

While I was out there I noticed the collar was in a strange state.   I had the controller with me and when the dog came inside after playing with my son I called her to me and took off the collar.  I was sitting on the bed with the manual, trying to figure out how I'd gotten it into a different mode.   I pressed the soft, rubber button with the collar sitting on my lap.   When that didn't work I changed to another setting and pressed the button again.

Suddenly the dog was beside me on the bed.  When I pressed the button again she was almost on top of me, leaning into me.   Then I realized, she could hear the very light sound of the button being pushed.   There was no vibration happening on the collar as it was set to zero.   She was trying to comply though, even without the collar on or any command being given.   After a third time and another setting test, I gave up and turned the unit off because even though she didn't have the collar on, she thought what I was doing was meant for her.

The Big Boy Update:  My son said he was working on an art project that was a surprise for us.   A bit later he came downstairs with the bottom of a small paper cup taped over his eye—with a pencil extending directly from the center.   He had mock impaled himself.  We took a picture of it it looked so realistic.   Then we told him to walk carefully with it on until he got to his desk to take it off.   I have no idea where he got the idea.   Can I use the, "he's a boy" excuse this time?   He was so pleased with his creativity.

The TIny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter wanted to play fetch this afternoon too.   I had her throw the ball a time or two but explained this was something I'd asked her brother to do and it wasn't her turn.  I said I would show her how to play fetch with Matisse tomorrow, but that her brother had the job for now and she would have to wait.   She got very upset, went inside crying and when I came in said, "leave me alone, I don't want to talk to anyone."  She disappeared into her room to listen to an audiobook.   I'm going to try and teache her tomorrow.   Sometimes it's hard to wait your turn.

Pull My Finger

My husband and I went to a White Elephant/Dirty Santy/Post Holiday party tonight.   We've been in years past and it's nice to see some of the friends we only see once per year or so at this gathering.  The party was in January but held the same function as if it had been before Christmas with the added advantage of being able to regift something you got that you didn't want or need.

The guidelines for the gifts are very flexible as over the years different themes and gift types have appeared.   It's a friendly bunch that attends and no one ever leaves angry because they didn't get a particular item.

This year the first gift was a game for children four years and older, called "Pull My Finger".   It featured a monkey with his butt sticking out.  You spun and pulled the monkey's finger however many times the spinner indicated.   At some point, the monkey would have had his finger pulled too many times and then would release all the air added into his butt (which had inflated every time his finger was pulled) making a farting noise.

Clearly, this was the present I needed to win to take home to my children.  As it turned out, I was second to last, executed a steal and the game is sitting on the bookshelf for the morning.   My husband wasn't so sure it was the best choice.   I stand firm in my decision, we'll see if the children share my enthusiasm tomorrow.

The Big Boy Update:  My son and I made candles the other day.   I got candle making supplies for Christmas and have been looking forward to making them but have been otherwise occupied with getting the house in order again and other events, visitors, and other distractions until the other day.  He and I had a very easy time melting some of the wax in a double boiler, adding scents, preparing wicks and then pouring the melted wax.  He had an idea to add needles from the Christmas tree into the one we added wintergreen and peppermint oils to.   It looked very nice when it had hardened.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter doesn't like for things to end or die.  At the Santa Claus event at our clubhouse, Mrs. Claus had made her a Rudolph balloon.   I told her it wouldn't last forever, but when it eventually deflated she was beside herself.   She held onto the little limp balloon and said, "Even when you die, you won’t be gone because you'll be in my heart. Don’t worry Rudolph, you’ll be back to normal soon. I love you. Mrs. Claus will bring you back to life next year."

Mini Tramp

We swapped presents tonight with Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Margaret.   They arrived with a huge present they later revealed was for my daughter.   She was so excited.   My son got some gaming money for Fortnite, which he is already planning on how to spend.   The present for my daughter turned out to be what she had wanted Santa to bring her early last month—a mini-trampoline.

It was an advanced model that didn't need to be put together, only snapped open and popped into place.   We put a standing handle on it which let them hold on and jump at the same time.   And yes, we have a big trampoline outside, but the mini one serves a whole different need.   My daughter was doing flips with the handle and jumping in-between.  My son was doing high bounces with it with his lightsabers, also from Uncle Jonathan and Aunt Margaret.  

It was a good night.   I ate too much.   They brought us a panoply of food from P. F. Chang's.   I ate it all.   We had a good time catching up.   I was glad for a break from the cleaning and organizing and putting up holiday items.   I'd been working for six hours straight when they arrived.   I'm now going to bed and expect to fall straight to sleep.

The Big Boy Update:  My son was so excited about the Fortnite in-game currency he got as a present.   He really wanted to play with Uncle Jonathan and offered to give him some when he played with him next.  His other gift was a day of gaming together.   When he got that present, he said it was the best present he could have gotten.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Would it surprise any adult out there to know my daughter was almost more excited with the large box the trampoline came in than the trampoline itself?  She carried it up and down the stairs and spent time inside it, being sent as a package and hidden/found.   So very typical of children and boxes.

After Three Days

My daughter had a rough day the other day and had a total of four consequences as a result.   Tomorrow my daughter will be able to jump on the trampoline if no one else is around.   The following day she will be invited back to jump whenever, provided the does her final portion of her consequence—writing apology letters.

For three days my daughter insisted she wasn't going to write the notes—ever.   Also, she also held firmly to the position she hadn't done anything wrong or had lied.   In addition, she had been maligned by everyone else and ganged up on.    She was accepting zero responsibility for her actions, even though others had admitted they had done things too.   She said she didn't do any of the things they were saying she did.

Today we had a few ups and downs.   At one point I got fed up with her behavior and said I was done for the day and I didn't want to have anything to do with her and her lousy attitude.  And I meant it.  I tried to avoid her for the next several hours.   I think something got through to her at that point.   It had been days of her trying things, things she knew we weren't going to put up with.   Things would escalate and then we would try calm, reasonable, praising behavior and she'd figuratively spit in our faces.   This morning I'd had enough.  I was done trying for a while.

Something must have clicked.   I don't know if it was the culmination of things or the last straw but about an hour later she had hurt herself and I responded minimally, making sure this bump or bruise wasn't bad and then I ignored her.   As she walked out of the room she said, "I think I'm going to write my apology notes now."

And so she did.  It didn't take her long, she's a fast typist.  Just as I could write this blog post far more quickly than I could longhand, she can get her thoughts down as fast as she can type—and her mind moves quickly.  Not ten minutes later she was downstairs with five notes written.  

I had expected her to write, "Dear X, I'm sorry." and expect that to be enough, only she knew that wouldn't do.   What I didn't expect was her to write notes that clearly demonstrated she knew exactly what she'd done and what was expected from an apology.   Her notes were nice too, touching even.

Everyone was touched by her notes she hand-delivered.   All is forgiven and even Benji made sure my daughter wasn't afraid of him, "punching her in the face" when we went to deliver the notes to him and his children, Claire and Jay.











The Big Boy Special Dinner Meal:  My son wanted to make a special dinner for us with his father.   They planned the meal, made a shopping list, did the shopping and made both the meal and the dessert working together.   My son has been watching cooking recipes on the Alexa Show in the kitchen and has been wanting to do more cooking after the recent day he and the other upperclassmen cooked for his class.   Tonight they made Spicy Thai Basil Chicken.  I came home to my son fiercely chopping chicken up with a cleaver, and brownies with pretzels in and on top of them with a homemade caramel sauce drizzled over the top.   We all loved both and have asked for a remake of the main dish tomorrow, it was so good.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter saw Dhruti this evening.  I told her the story about the trampoline incident before my daughter came in.   She said she'd been thinking about all the things my daughter misses, not only in non-verbal queues, but many other things we take for granted because we're sighted.   She thinks her anxiety may be in part from the general lack of information she has to understand everything surrounding her.   She's going to try and work with her on some ways we can help her in this area.   In the meantime, back home tonight, my daughter, instead of being angry and cross, rude and mean when something accidental happened, she said, "you didn't mean to step on my foot, Mom" plus several other things.   She and I had a very nice conversation in which I got the feeling she almost doesn't think we're all out to get her.   I hope it lasts.  We're all on her side.   She and I had some special conversations tonight while I did her hair.   I really hope whatever happened to change her attitude today is real—and that she continues to feel the same way about things.