There are some things in our lives we would be crippled without. For example, without our vehicles, how would we get to all the things we normally do that are further away than walking distance? Without certain things, our lives would have to go through a significant adjustment to a new way of doing things.
The smart phone is one of those things in my life and this morning I had another reminder of that. I got in the car to take my son to school. On the way there I went through the Starbucks drive through to get some coffee. I do this regularly enough that my children know exactly where we are when I pull in—even though they've never had coffee themselves.
As I got in the drive-thru line I suddenly thought, "did I forget my phone?" This might be an unusual question at that point, but I pay for my Starbucks coffee via an app on my phone. As I looked into my purse for the phone I realized I had already interacted with the phone multiple times since I'd gotten in the car but since it was such an assumed constant companion, I hadn't noticed.
When we got in the car and backed out of the driveway I had heard the phone bing the sound that indicated the house alarm system had been successfully armed. When we got to the first stop light my son asked for a song he likes right now and I selected the bluetooth audio option in the car to play music from my phone.
Next, my son said something funny or maybe I had a thought or memory and I wanted to take a note about it so I'd remember to write about it when I sat down tonight to do this blog entry. I pulled out my phone and added an entry to my blog topics list (at a stoplight of course—there are a lot on our ride to school.)
While I had the phone up, I checked my email to see if the solicitation I might be doing later was confirmed. Then I turned into Starbucks, music blaring out of the stereo, playing from my phone via bluetooth. Then I wondered if I had brought my phone with me.
The Big Boy Update: My husband took my daughter to get her stitches removed this morning and I took my son to school. We, for the first time, needed to put a car seat in the Tesla. My son was excited about going for a ride in, "the awesome car" he told me. As we drove out of the neighborhood he agreed, it was a very quiet ride. Then he said, "I usually throw up in this car."
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter had her stitches out this morning. They used a topical numbing on her chin and she didn't budge for the ninety seconds it took to get the stitches clipped and out. We were proud of her bravery. She's been enjoying drawing scribbles on pieces of paper lately She draws something, hands it to you and tells you it's an <insert word she made up>. On our car ride today she made me the following drawings: Neeker-chopper-bai, Cheops, Chicka chooka tickka tooka, Thithoo and Chingatoo.
Friday, October 3, 2014
Thursday, October 2, 2014
Closet Climbing
My husband and I were busily working at our computers this afternoon, trying to get in a little work while the children ran around in the basement playing unsupervised. Usually when this happens, we have to take it in turn to get up, find out what they're doing and redirect them to something safer or a more preferable activity.
They got into the lower cabinet and dumped all the pillows and blankets, climbed in and played some sort of hiding and rescuing game for a bit. Next, we heard them in the bathroom, playing in the walk-in shower with the fun rock pebble floor.
After that I could tell they were in the basement bedroom doing something that was making noise. From the sound, I thought they were in the closet with the metal coat hangers. When I went to investigate, they had taken the hangers all down and were in the process of climbing up the cubbies to get to the very top shelf in the closet.
I was, truthfully, proud of them. Dangerous? Sure, it could be, but the floor is carpeted they've been climbing the various shelves and ledges in our master closet for a while, they just couldn't get to a higher level because there were things on those shelves. The closet in the basement is empty.
They didn't make it to the very top, but when they do, I'm not worried. Our trim carpenter put in some very sturdy materials in our house. If I could fit up there, I'd feel confident it would hold even my weight.
The Big Boy Update: My daughter was kicking the back of the chair on the way to school this morning. It was making a rhythmic "thump thump thump". My son looked over to me said, "Is that deadmau5 music Reese is making?" As I listened to her kicking, I had to agree with him, it did sound a lot like a low bass beat.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter sings this "da da da" type of song a lot. It's mostly syllables of sound that repeat across a measure or two. Her brother started to sing along with her the other day but she interrupted him and said, "No, that's mine and Jacob's song!"
They got into the lower cabinet and dumped all the pillows and blankets, climbed in and played some sort of hiding and rescuing game for a bit. Next, we heard them in the bathroom, playing in the walk-in shower with the fun rock pebble floor.
After that I could tell they were in the basement bedroom doing something that was making noise. From the sound, I thought they were in the closet with the metal coat hangers. When I went to investigate, they had taken the hangers all down and were in the process of climbing up the cubbies to get to the very top shelf in the closet.
I was, truthfully, proud of them. Dangerous? Sure, it could be, but the floor is carpeted they've been climbing the various shelves and ledges in our master closet for a while, they just couldn't get to a higher level because there were things on those shelves. The closet in the basement is empty.
They didn't make it to the very top, but when they do, I'm not worried. Our trim carpenter put in some very sturdy materials in our house. If I could fit up there, I'd feel confident it would hold even my weight.
The Big Boy Update: My daughter was kicking the back of the chair on the way to school this morning. It was making a rhythmic "thump thump thump". My son looked over to me said, "Is that deadmau5 music Reese is making?" As I listened to her kicking, I had to agree with him, it did sound a lot like a low bass beat.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter sings this "da da da" type of song a lot. It's mostly syllables of sound that repeat across a measure or two. Her brother started to sing along with her the other day but she interrupted him and said, "No, that's mine and Jacob's song!"
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
Dutch Oven
Have you ever had to pick a password for something and had a hard time coming up with an easily memorable choice? With the prevalence of passwords these days, it's continually challenging to come up with something new, different, secure and yet memorable. But it hasn't always been so.
Many years ago I was playing a video game regularly with some friends. My best work friend and I were avid players when we were done working for the day and on weekends. This particular game (Diablo) worked by having one person create a game and the other person or people joining the game you created. You could password protect the game so that random people didn't just jump in. We decided to use "dutchoven" for our password anytime either one of us created a game.
It worked well. It was the password we always used. It was easily memorable and it made me think of people wearing wooden clogs milling doing things with some large oven structure. I didn't know what a dutch oven was, but I had all sorts of images of something big and impressive.
Then one day, years later after I was done playing that game, I discovered I'd had a dutch oven sitting in my cabinet in the kitchen all that time. It's just a large pot. Talk about ruining my mental image.
I still use "dutchoven" today for various non-critical passwordy things and it never fails to remind me of those video game days years ago.
The Big Boy Update: My son came home today with an Incident Report. Another child was waving a stick around on the playground (which is not allowed) and hit my son in the lip. The incident report is required for any injury to the head. When my husband and I read it it made it laugh because it said, "Treatment: ice pack (reluctantly received)". I can picture him far more interested in getting back to the playground than holding an ice pack to his lip.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter was seen by a plastic surgeon today to confirm we're doing the proper things for her chin to recover with minimal scaring. The surgeon was a delight and she liked him a lot. She may well like him less when he removes her stitches on Friday morning. He said she's doing very well and gave us some pointers on what to do to facilitate her healing.
Fitness Update: We went in to the gym early this morning because my neighbor had an early meeting. My alarm went off at 4:45. Uncle Jonathan made it to my house at 4:55 from the next town over to go to the gym. He is harder core than I am, no question about it.
Many years ago I was playing a video game regularly with some friends. My best work friend and I were avid players when we were done working for the day and on weekends. This particular game (Diablo) worked by having one person create a game and the other person or people joining the game you created. You could password protect the game so that random people didn't just jump in. We decided to use "dutchoven" for our password anytime either one of us created a game.
It worked well. It was the password we always used. It was easily memorable and it made me think of people wearing wooden clogs milling doing things with some large oven structure. I didn't know what a dutch oven was, but I had all sorts of images of something big and impressive.
Then one day, years later after I was done playing that game, I discovered I'd had a dutch oven sitting in my cabinet in the kitchen all that time. It's just a large pot. Talk about ruining my mental image.
I still use "dutchoven" today for various non-critical passwordy things and it never fails to remind me of those video game days years ago.
The Big Boy Update: My son came home today with an Incident Report. Another child was waving a stick around on the playground (which is not allowed) and hit my son in the lip. The incident report is required for any injury to the head. When my husband and I read it it made it laugh because it said, "Treatment: ice pack (reluctantly received)". I can picture him far more interested in getting back to the playground than holding an ice pack to his lip.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter was seen by a plastic surgeon today to confirm we're doing the proper things for her chin to recover with minimal scaring. The surgeon was a delight and she liked him a lot. She may well like him less when he removes her stitches on Friday morning. He said she's doing very well and gave us some pointers on what to do to facilitate her healing.
Fitness Update: We went in to the gym early this morning because my neighbor had an early meeting. My alarm went off at 4:45. Uncle Jonathan made it to my house at 4:55 from the next town over to go to the gym. He is harder core than I am, no question about it.
Tuesday, September 30, 2014
Fixed Things
Remember the keyboard from September 24th that stopped typing an uppercase U? Remember how I thought it was solved? I was wrong. Today, I spent some time on the phone not once, not twice, but three times with Apple Support. They were great. We all hoped it was a software problem and there were many things that pointed to it likely being that.
It turned out to be a hardware issue though, so this evening I abandoned my husband with the children, leaving him to wash them without getting my daughter's chin wet. I went off to the Apple store with my keyboard in hand and forty-three minutes later I was home with a new keyboard.
It was a frustrating several days, but the service and people I worked with were great. I am so terribly thrilled that when I type tonight, "The Big Boy Update" it will actually be an update an not a pdate.
On the whole front of fixed things, I have had a year-long problem with our dryer. I can't remember if I wrote about it here because the number of mental cycles I spent frustrated over the whole situation has the memories blurring together. Suffice it to say we had a dryer with chronic issues that was at first under warranty and later not, but in either case was challenging to find repair people to work on it because it was an unpopular model.
After getting frustrated enough that I took the dryer apart one day myself and discovered plastic parts wearing on each other (thus causing the loud, grinding noise that was driving me mad) I made a desperate call to the manufacturer to see if I could personally order the part for the third replacement. I explained the situation and was suddenly sent up to a manger—without even asking—and that's when the entire situation started to get better.
This manager, Matt, was so helpful. He coordinated a repairperson and told me history behind the dryer model, saying it had been made by a secondary company and that the in-service date on the one we got was three years after the product had been manufactured. He understood why it was hard to find people to repair it—because it was poorly made.
We tried a repair and that lasted a short while. Then, almost four years after we bought the dryer, he said he would refund the full amount and have someone come and pick up the unit to get it out of circulation. I tell you, I almost cried right there on the phone with the relief of having the unit gone.
My husband and I did research and Consumer Reports was consulted. Yesterday we had delivered a new washer and dryer and I am thrilled. When the dryer runs now, I don't even know it's on. It is a delight. The washer and dryer take less time to run their cycles and, well, I could gush some more, but know that I am thrilled to be doing laundry now.
The Big Boy Update: My son must be playing I Spy at school because he said in the car the other day, "I spy with my little eye, something that starts with 'Sssss'" They're working on letter sounds at schools. We were in the car and he told us he was spying a "Sign".
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter's chin is weeping less, but still looks terrible from the abrasion on top of the cut. We're taking her in to see a plastic surgeon tomorrow (something we planned from the start) to make sure the healing is going as expected.
It turned out to be a hardware issue though, so this evening I abandoned my husband with the children, leaving him to wash them without getting my daughter's chin wet. I went off to the Apple store with my keyboard in hand and forty-three minutes later I was home with a new keyboard.
It was a frustrating several days, but the service and people I worked with were great. I am so terribly thrilled that when I type tonight, "The Big Boy Update" it will actually be an update an not a pdate.
On the whole front of fixed things, I have had a year-long problem with our dryer. I can't remember if I wrote about it here because the number of mental cycles I spent frustrated over the whole situation has the memories blurring together. Suffice it to say we had a dryer with chronic issues that was at first under warranty and later not, but in either case was challenging to find repair people to work on it because it was an unpopular model.
After getting frustrated enough that I took the dryer apart one day myself and discovered plastic parts wearing on each other (thus causing the loud, grinding noise that was driving me mad) I made a desperate call to the manufacturer to see if I could personally order the part for the third replacement. I explained the situation and was suddenly sent up to a manger—without even asking—and that's when the entire situation started to get better.
This manager, Matt, was so helpful. He coordinated a repairperson and told me history behind the dryer model, saying it had been made by a secondary company and that the in-service date on the one we got was three years after the product had been manufactured. He understood why it was hard to find people to repair it—because it was poorly made.
We tried a repair and that lasted a short while. Then, almost four years after we bought the dryer, he said he would refund the full amount and have someone come and pick up the unit to get it out of circulation. I tell you, I almost cried right there on the phone with the relief of having the unit gone.
My husband and I did research and Consumer Reports was consulted. Yesterday we had delivered a new washer and dryer and I am thrilled. When the dryer runs now, I don't even know it's on. It is a delight. The washer and dryer take less time to run their cycles and, well, I could gush some more, but know that I am thrilled to be doing laundry now.
The Big Boy Update: My son must be playing I Spy at school because he said in the car the other day, "I spy with my little eye, something that starts with 'Sssss'" They're working on letter sounds at schools. We were in the car and he told us he was spying a "Sign".
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter's chin is weeping less, but still looks terrible from the abrasion on top of the cut. We're taking her in to see a plastic surgeon tomorrow (something we planned from the start) to make sure the healing is going as expected.
Monday, September 29, 2014
Chin Stitches
We got my daughter a balance bike on Friday. We left later that day to go to the beach with friends. When we returned, she wanted to go riding. We put her helmet on and she and I went on an errand to deliver a book to friends some houses over.
On the way back, she got out of control going too fast. I had told her to slow down, but she wasn't paying attention. She fell over and our friends, Robbie and Elise, helped her get up. I thought she had learned her lesson.
Not ten minutes later she was back on the bike, going down the hill to our cul-de-sac. She slowed down and we looked away. Then, she made a mistake. This is a mistake we've been afraid of for some time that we all figured was going to happen to one or more children eventually. She went into the driveway of our neighbors at the bottom of the street. Their driveway is steep. No, it's not steep, it's a cliff. It's a fun looking cliff to a child who doesn't know how to control their speed on a new balance bike (or other wheel-based conveyance). It's fun looking to a young person who has not much experience in pain and no idea of their own mortality. In other words, all the children on our street.
She wiped out. We didn't see it, but it must have been bad. My son told us, looking rather ashen, that she had fallen. We could hear the screams. My husband got her up and said "we have a stitches situation". We walked back to the house, fairly calm, because that helmet we make her wear, saved her from far worse injury.
I called my sitter and asked if she was available right now. She said she'd come right over. She was at the house in I think three minutes (she lives literally around the corner). We daubed off her chin and got her in the car. I called our friends and asked where to go, because we don't have much experience in the whole trauma area. He suggested a children's emergency room at one of the hospitals.
We arrived and checked in. My daughter was in fine spirits the entire time, including dancing around on the floor of the waiting room to an interactive video game that's projected on the floor. When we were called back, the doctor looked at her and gave us a rundown of what she was planning on doing. I contacted our friends (both doctors) again and asked what they recommended. I was so touched by their concern. The husband made several calls to his associates, confirming which suture type would be better. We got some advice and when our doctor came back, I made a request to change her treatment plan.
The request was to change the external sutures to ones that were not rapid absorbing. Those are helpful in that you don't have to do a follow-up appointment to have the sutures removed. However, they have a higher inflammatory response than the alternative, Prolene option. We told her follow-up would not be a problem and we'd prefer the non-dissolving sutures for the external stitches (she needed both internal and external stitches).
They gave my daughter IN Versaid, a mild sedative, injected nasally, and then she put in the stitches. The sedative didn't work as well as would be ideal. While my daughter wasn't in any real pain, she was aware there was tugging and pulling on her chin and we had to hold her hands and neck still so the doctor could stitch her up. She wasn't in real distress, just reacting to the situation by wiggling and not being still.
When the stitches were in, we took her home. The Versaid made her very friendly, but in a slow-reaction kind of way. She waved at people and answered questions, but only after thinking about it for a while. She couldn't walk well when we got her home and she tried to tell her very asleep brother about getting stitches while lying on her mattress. She fell asleep shortly and had a good night's rest.
She was three-hours short on sleep, but seemed ready to go to school this morning. Tomorrow I'm scheduling an appointment with a plastic surgeon to confirm we're doing the right things to ensure her healing will be optimal for minimal scaring.
She still doesn't seem upset at all by the entire ordeal. She wants to see the chin when we change the bandage and she likes to look at pictures of her chin on the phone. I hope it's due to her personality, which I think is a lot of it, but also how we dealt with the situation, making it something that was important, but not terrible or awful.
We talked to her about how her brother had gone to the hospital before to have a abscess fixed by a doctor and now she was going to get stitches. She was interested in both the hospital, the help the doctor was going to give her and the doctor herself. While we were in the waiting room, I told her what was going to happen. She looked at me and said, "I want to be a doctor." Perhaps someday she will.
The Big Boy Update: My son impressed me all weekend at the beach. He was the only boy, with five girls surrounding him at the beach house. He got along with them all, didn't complain and was very friendly to everyone. I missed several picture opportunities, but the one I remember the most is my son sitting at the edge of the top bunk, between Juliette and Ellie, watching some show on the Disney Channel that was targeted at eight-year-olds. He was entranced and very happy to be hanging out with the older girls.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Today my daughter's chin is weeping and oozing from the large chin wound she got yesterday (see above). The scrape on top of the scrape on top of the laceration on her chin needs to air out, dry and scab over. We let her watch some television for a while in the hopes that the inflammation would reduce and we could put some gauze back over it.
The Broken Keyboard Situation: Remember that capital "U" problem? It's not a fluke, it's the keyboard. I'm going to have to take it in for replacement it appears. I have to keep my laptop open on the left of my desk for those situations in which I need to type a capital U. As it turns out, I rarely type that particular keystroke. But when I need to, it's nice to have the keystroke combination work.
On the way back, she got out of control going too fast. I had told her to slow down, but she wasn't paying attention. She fell over and our friends, Robbie and Elise, helped her get up. I thought she had learned her lesson.
Not ten minutes later she was back on the bike, going down the hill to our cul-de-sac. She slowed down and we looked away. Then, she made a mistake. This is a mistake we've been afraid of for some time that we all figured was going to happen to one or more children eventually. She went into the driveway of our neighbors at the bottom of the street. Their driveway is steep. No, it's not steep, it's a cliff. It's a fun looking cliff to a child who doesn't know how to control their speed on a new balance bike (or other wheel-based conveyance). It's fun looking to a young person who has not much experience in pain and no idea of their own mortality. In other words, all the children on our street.
She wiped out. We didn't see it, but it must have been bad. My son told us, looking rather ashen, that she had fallen. We could hear the screams. My husband got her up and said "we have a stitches situation". We walked back to the house, fairly calm, because that helmet we make her wear, saved her from far worse injury.
I called my sitter and asked if she was available right now. She said she'd come right over. She was at the house in I think three minutes (she lives literally around the corner). We daubed off her chin and got her in the car. I called our friends and asked where to go, because we don't have much experience in the whole trauma area. He suggested a children's emergency room at one of the hospitals.
We arrived and checked in. My daughter was in fine spirits the entire time, including dancing around on the floor of the waiting room to an interactive video game that's projected on the floor. When we were called back, the doctor looked at her and gave us a rundown of what she was planning on doing. I contacted our friends (both doctors) again and asked what they recommended. I was so touched by their concern. The husband made several calls to his associates, confirming which suture type would be better. We got some advice and when our doctor came back, I made a request to change her treatment plan.
The request was to change the external sutures to ones that were not rapid absorbing. Those are helpful in that you don't have to do a follow-up appointment to have the sutures removed. However, they have a higher inflammatory response than the alternative, Prolene option. We told her follow-up would not be a problem and we'd prefer the non-dissolving sutures for the external stitches (she needed both internal and external stitches).
They gave my daughter IN Versaid, a mild sedative, injected nasally, and then she put in the stitches. The sedative didn't work as well as would be ideal. While my daughter wasn't in any real pain, she was aware there was tugging and pulling on her chin and we had to hold her hands and neck still so the doctor could stitch her up. She wasn't in real distress, just reacting to the situation by wiggling and not being still.
When the stitches were in, we took her home. The Versaid made her very friendly, but in a slow-reaction kind of way. She waved at people and answered questions, but only after thinking about it for a while. She couldn't walk well when we got her home and she tried to tell her very asleep brother about getting stitches while lying on her mattress. She fell asleep shortly and had a good night's rest.
She was three-hours short on sleep, but seemed ready to go to school this morning. Tomorrow I'm scheduling an appointment with a plastic surgeon to confirm we're doing the right things to ensure her healing will be optimal for minimal scaring.
She still doesn't seem upset at all by the entire ordeal. She wants to see the chin when we change the bandage and she likes to look at pictures of her chin on the phone. I hope it's due to her personality, which I think is a lot of it, but also how we dealt with the situation, making it something that was important, but not terrible or awful.
We talked to her about how her brother had gone to the hospital before to have a abscess fixed by a doctor and now she was going to get stitches. She was interested in both the hospital, the help the doctor was going to give her and the doctor herself. While we were in the waiting room, I told her what was going to happen. She looked at me and said, "I want to be a doctor." Perhaps someday she will.
The Big Boy Update: My son impressed me all weekend at the beach. He was the only boy, with five girls surrounding him at the beach house. He got along with them all, didn't complain and was very friendly to everyone. I missed several picture opportunities, but the one I remember the most is my son sitting at the edge of the top bunk, between Juliette and Ellie, watching some show on the Disney Channel that was targeted at eight-year-olds. He was entranced and very happy to be hanging out with the older girls.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: Today my daughter's chin is weeping and oozing from the large chin wound she got yesterday (see above). The scrape on top of the scrape on top of the laceration on her chin needs to air out, dry and scab over. We let her watch some television for a while in the hopes that the inflammation would reduce and we could put some gauze back over it.
The Broken Keyboard Situation: Remember that capital "U" problem? It's not a fluke, it's the keyboard. I'm going to have to take it in for replacement it appears. I have to keep my laptop open on the left of my desk for those situations in which I need to type a capital U. As it turns out, I rarely type that particular keystroke. But when I need to, it's nice to have the keystroke combination work.
Sunday, September 28, 2014
The Wet Sand Memory
We were out at the beach this morning playing in the sand and surf. My daughter brought the bucket and spade and came over to me, asking if I could help her build a sand castle. I told her we couldn't build a sand castle at this location, because it was dry and wouldn't hold together. I suggested we go down near the water where the wet sand was and I'd help her build something fun.
Telling her about the need for wet sand reminded me of something from my childhood, a memory that I've thought about so many times I was sure I'd written about it here, but after searching, I don't think I actually have. This memory is from many years ago when I was at an age that playing in sand boxes was still something fun and exciting.
I don't remember where it was, but we went to visit a magician friend of my father's. He had a daughter that was close i age to me. After introducing us, the four parents went off to do adult things and their daughter and I headed went off to play. We went up to her attic, I think it was, which had been converted into a playroom. There were toys after toys after toys in that room. I was overwhelmed with the number of toys she had piled all over this room.
She took me over to a kitchen play set after a few minutes. I remember discovering her play refrigerator dispensed pretend ice cubes. I had never seen anything like this before and I remember thinking she was so lucky, because I didn't know anyone who had a refrigerator that had real, plastic, pretend ice cubes that shot out of the ice dispenser on the door. At that time, our refrigerator at home only had ice trays, so this was truly the height of luxury in my mind.
Later that day we went out to her back yard. It was wooded and had lots of interesting foliage. It also had a big sandbox filled with sand. I loved sand boxes and this one was filled with beach sand, which was light and fine and so much fun to play with. As we played, I noticed there was an area of the sand that was getting wet. Then I noticed that area was getting bigger. Then I realized it was because she was going to the bathroom right where she was sitting.
She told me, "the wet sand is mine" and I told her that was all right with me.
After that weekend I didm't see her again (I have no idea what her name was) for a long time. It was some years later when I was in my early teens that she attended the annual International Brotherhood of Magician's conference. My parents and her parents were excited to have us meet again. I remember we ran into each other in the elevator and I didn't recognize her at all. From her clothes and attitude I got the distinct impression she liked bad boys and hung out with the smokers during lunch at school and that was never my type.
That may not have been the case, but she and I seemed to have diverged in our paths from that weekend some years ago when we played in the sandbox together.
The Big Boy Update: Today is my husband's birthday. My son has been excited about it all day, which might be related to the ice cream plans for after lunch, but we're not sure. He was helping dad make sand castles (or rather sand moats) at the beach this morning and burst into song, singing Happy Birthday to daddy and grinning from ear to ear.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The other dad that was with us this weekend would pretend to be a robot around my daughter. He has four girls, so he knows just what to do to make little girls giggle. My daughter loved it. She would turn his power button back on and replace his batteries when he would run out of energy. She helped change his "programming" so he would help with the dishes instead of the "tickle everyone" program he seemed to have prior. She even started talking like a robot at one point she was having so much fun with him.
Back Update: Sometimes fitness activities cause my back to have fits or go wacky or just basically give me grief. I don't know if it was yesterdays' short run or sitting on the couch last night after dinner, but my SI joint subluxated again during the movie we watched. I looked fairly pathetic trying to get up and not being able to do so without looking very foolish. It was painful, but it was pressure more than anything. Thankfully, most of it resolved overnight. I didn't exercise today. I ate birthday ice cream...and a lot of ice cream at that.
Telling her about the need for wet sand reminded me of something from my childhood, a memory that I've thought about so many times I was sure I'd written about it here, but after searching, I don't think I actually have. This memory is from many years ago when I was at an age that playing in sand boxes was still something fun and exciting.
I don't remember where it was, but we went to visit a magician friend of my father's. He had a daughter that was close i age to me. After introducing us, the four parents went off to do adult things and their daughter and I headed went off to play. We went up to her attic, I think it was, which had been converted into a playroom. There were toys after toys after toys in that room. I was overwhelmed with the number of toys she had piled all over this room.
She took me over to a kitchen play set after a few minutes. I remember discovering her play refrigerator dispensed pretend ice cubes. I had never seen anything like this before and I remember thinking she was so lucky, because I didn't know anyone who had a refrigerator that had real, plastic, pretend ice cubes that shot out of the ice dispenser on the door. At that time, our refrigerator at home only had ice trays, so this was truly the height of luxury in my mind.
Later that day we went out to her back yard. It was wooded and had lots of interesting foliage. It also had a big sandbox filled with sand. I loved sand boxes and this one was filled with beach sand, which was light and fine and so much fun to play with. As we played, I noticed there was an area of the sand that was getting wet. Then I noticed that area was getting bigger. Then I realized it was because she was going to the bathroom right where she was sitting.
She told me, "the wet sand is mine" and I told her that was all right with me.
After that weekend I didm't see her again (I have no idea what her name was) for a long time. It was some years later when I was in my early teens that she attended the annual International Brotherhood of Magician's conference. My parents and her parents were excited to have us meet again. I remember we ran into each other in the elevator and I didn't recognize her at all. From her clothes and attitude I got the distinct impression she liked bad boys and hung out with the smokers during lunch at school and that was never my type.
That may not have been the case, but she and I seemed to have diverged in our paths from that weekend some years ago when we played in the sandbox together.
The Big Boy Update: Today is my husband's birthday. My son has been excited about it all day, which might be related to the ice cream plans for after lunch, but we're not sure. He was helping dad make sand castles (or rather sand moats) at the beach this morning and burst into song, singing Happy Birthday to daddy and grinning from ear to ear.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The other dad that was with us this weekend would pretend to be a robot around my daughter. He has four girls, so he knows just what to do to make little girls giggle. My daughter loved it. She would turn his power button back on and replace his batteries when he would run out of energy. She helped change his "programming" so he would help with the dishes instead of the "tickle everyone" program he seemed to have prior. She even started talking like a robot at one point she was having so much fun with him.
Back Update: Sometimes fitness activities cause my back to have fits or go wacky or just basically give me grief. I don't know if it was yesterdays' short run or sitting on the couch last night after dinner, but my SI joint subluxated again during the movie we watched. I looked fairly pathetic trying to get up and not being able to do so without looking very foolish. It was painful, but it was pressure more than anything. Thankfully, most of it resolved overnight. I didn't exercise today. I ate birthday ice cream...and a lot of ice cream at that.
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Beach Ball
We're at the beach this weekend with our friends. We've been friends with them for several years and they've asked us to join their family multiple times at their beach house, but it's never worked out. We weren't sure if we were going to make it this year, but we shuffled some things and made it down this weekend, even though the summer was for all intents and purposes, over.
The weather turned out to be great. I packed long shirts and pants as well as shorts and t-shirts for the children and me because I didn't know what weather we'd encounter. Today was not only warm, it was sunny too. The water temperature was great as well, so we spent a lot of time on the beach.
My husband went biking with the other dad and I went running later with the mom. All six children had a nice time together, which was a bonus, because we didn't know how well the social dynamics were going to work out.
They bought their home (half of a duplex) on a short sale and then did a lot of renovations to make it into something they felt comfortable renting. I had heard a lot about the renovations and the challenges they had last year in getting them done in time for the rental season. I had a picture in my mind of what it would look like, but I was not surprisingly, wrong in what I pictured. Their house is lovely.
I didn't expect any less, but I think what I like the most is they have similar preferences in style to me. I feel right at home here. With six children and four adults, it's a tight fit, but since my two can sleep on mattresses on the floor of our bedroom, we were all able to fit in.
We're off to eat seafood for dinner and then go to some "amazing ice cream pace" as it's called by our friend's children.
The Big Boy Update: Asleep on the chair. My husband played with my son in the water this morning and again this afternoon at the beach. After he was done this afternoon, my son say in a lawn chair and asked for a towel. Then, he fell straight asleep in the afternoon sun.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The kitty cat song. My daughter still likes this one song from over a year ago. She calls it, "the kitty cat song" and when she requests it, I put it on for her.
Fitness Update: Six miles on the beach with my friend. We didn't run on the beach itself, but the road instead. Running in one direction was hot, running back, against the wind, was refreshingly cool.
The weather turned out to be great. I packed long shirts and pants as well as shorts and t-shirts for the children and me because I didn't know what weather we'd encounter. Today was not only warm, it was sunny too. The water temperature was great as well, so we spent a lot of time on the beach.
My husband went biking with the other dad and I went running later with the mom. All six children had a nice time together, which was a bonus, because we didn't know how well the social dynamics were going to work out.
They bought their home (half of a duplex) on a short sale and then did a lot of renovations to make it into something they felt comfortable renting. I had heard a lot about the renovations and the challenges they had last year in getting them done in time for the rental season. I had a picture in my mind of what it would look like, but I was not surprisingly, wrong in what I pictured. Their house is lovely.
I didn't expect any less, but I think what I like the most is they have similar preferences in style to me. I feel right at home here. With six children and four adults, it's a tight fit, but since my two can sleep on mattresses on the floor of our bedroom, we were all able to fit in.
We're off to eat seafood for dinner and then go to some "amazing ice cream pace" as it's called by our friend's children.
The Big Boy Update: Asleep on the chair. My husband played with my son in the water this morning and again this afternoon at the beach. After he was done this afternoon, my son say in a lawn chair and asked for a towel. Then, he fell straight asleep in the afternoon sun.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: The kitty cat song. My daughter still likes this one song from over a year ago. She calls it, "the kitty cat song" and when she requests it, I put it on for her.
Fitness Update: Six miles on the beach with my friend. We didn't run on the beach itself, but the road instead. Running in one direction was hot, running back, against the wind, was refreshingly cool.
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