We had dinner with friends from the neighborhood this evening. We keep in touch, which isn’t as frequent as we probably should, considering we’re only three streets away, but it’s always nice to catch up when we do get together.
Tonight’s agenda, as set forth by Tim, was as follows via email:
1) Approve minutes from last meeting in 2016
2) discuss solar
3) discuss model 3
4) compare flame throwers
In translation, this means the last time we went out to dinner with our friends was 2016 (has it been than long?). The remaining three points revolve heavily around Tesla and Elon Musk’s endeavors, of which all four of us are enthusiastic.
Not as much of the dinner was as Tesla-centered as planned, including side stories of how they are building a house downtown and will only be in our neighborhood another year and their neighbor, who can’t quite figure out how to mow his grass without leaving bits between each pass, or “lawn Mohawks”.
My daughter’s vision came up, because it’s an interesting subject and everyone wants to know how she’s doing but we always circled back to Tesla. They’ve ordered a Model 3. Next dinner, which will hopefully be sooner than 2020, we’ll have to go in their new Tesla.
The Big Boy Update: My son and I are playing a new game on the iPads. We can play solo or in teams. Initially he was having a hard time getting through the next stage until my husband showed him he had to spend all the points he was earning on skills, open the chests he was finding and enhance all the new gear he had collected. After he’d upgraded everything he played for the next half-hour shouting out, “that was totally easy!”, “I’m amazing!” and other excited cries from the living room.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter said she had a new color: ‘malente’. She told me she would show me how she makes it if I was interested.
Monday, July 2, 2018
Sunday, July 1, 2018
Dinner Apart
We had a family conference on our bed late this afternoon. The subject was what to do for dinner. There were a lot of conflicting opinions, entirely among the children about where we should go. My son repeatedly shouted out, “P. F. Chang’s” and “Pei Wei” until he was cautioned agains more outbursts, pending disciplinary action.
My daughter wasn’t particularly helpful, saying no to almost everything. She did come up with some good suggestions and then almost gave in to her brother’s heavy bias towards P. F. Chang’s until he came up with some altogether new additions to the dinner restaurant option list. The new ideas suited my daughter well, what with her deciding Olive Garden was exactly where she wanted to go. Only this wasn’t P. F. Chang’s.
We told them they would have a few minutes to decide together and if they hadn’t come to an agreement by then, the decision would be made by my husband and me and there would be no additional discussion about the matter.
It was at this point that my daughter had an idea: dad would take her to Olive Garden and I would go with my son to P. F. Chang’s. My husband and I looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders, “why not” and that was that.
On the way to the restaurant my son told me everything we were going to order, some of which was specific like, “the steamed pork dumpling appetizer—six, not four” and others which were less so such as, “and you get the beef thing and I’ll get the lo mein and the chicken thing.”
The last time we were there we had been with six people and had ordered lots of different entrees to be shared. I had to explain to him that we weren’t going to get an appetizer each and also two entrees each: it was too much food. He still wanted to tell me what to order, but we worked it out and got plenty of food.
As we were leaving he was doing the most absurd walk out the restaurant door. I said questioningly, “what in the world are you doing?” He told me it was his entry for The Ministry of Silly Walks (from Monty Python). I had to take a video of it for him in case we ever figure out how to submit an entry for admission.
The Big Boy Update: As we were leaving dinner tonight we were exiting a busy car park with cars moving all around us. My son observed, “guys with cool cars like to drive slow so the girls can look at them.” There was a slow-moving convertible sports car in front of us my son told me was very cool.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My husband and daughter had a filling dinner together tonight. My daughter ate all her salad, pasta, fruit and two breadsticks. She said she even had room for dessert. My son and I had to bring food home from our meal, although we did get a lot to eat.
My daughter wasn’t particularly helpful, saying no to almost everything. She did come up with some good suggestions and then almost gave in to her brother’s heavy bias towards P. F. Chang’s until he came up with some altogether new additions to the dinner restaurant option list. The new ideas suited my daughter well, what with her deciding Olive Garden was exactly where she wanted to go. Only this wasn’t P. F. Chang’s.
We told them they would have a few minutes to decide together and if they hadn’t come to an agreement by then, the decision would be made by my husband and me and there would be no additional discussion about the matter.
It was at this point that my daughter had an idea: dad would take her to Olive Garden and I would go with my son to P. F. Chang’s. My husband and I looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders, “why not” and that was that.
On the way to the restaurant my son told me everything we were going to order, some of which was specific like, “the steamed pork dumpling appetizer—six, not four” and others which were less so such as, “and you get the beef thing and I’ll get the lo mein and the chicken thing.”
The last time we were there we had been with six people and had ordered lots of different entrees to be shared. I had to explain to him that we weren’t going to get an appetizer each and also two entrees each: it was too much food. He still wanted to tell me what to order, but we worked it out and got plenty of food.
As we were leaving he was doing the most absurd walk out the restaurant door. I said questioningly, “what in the world are you doing?” He told me it was his entry for The Ministry of Silly Walks (from Monty Python). I had to take a video of it for him in case we ever figure out how to submit an entry for admission.
The Big Boy Update: As we were leaving dinner tonight we were exiting a busy car park with cars moving all around us. My son observed, “guys with cool cars like to drive slow so the girls can look at them.” There was a slow-moving convertible sports car in front of us my son told me was very cool.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My husband and daughter had a filling dinner together tonight. My daughter ate all her salad, pasta, fruit and two breadsticks. She said she even had room for dessert. My son and I had to bring food home from our meal, although we did get a lot to eat.
Saturday, June 30, 2018
Ketchup
My husband likes to grow things on our deck. He’s done herbs every year and tomatoes for a few years as well. Last year the children got interested in plants in part because of my husband, but also because of something their Aunt A had sent in the mail. So this year, my husband decided to get them involved.
He got additional planters and put in a drip system. The children selected their plants and then we say back and watched them grow.
The growing has been the most fun and interesting to the children. We’ll go out to the deck and check on the status of the various plants, pick what’s ripe and then, usually, eat them once inside. My daughter will go out with one of the three of us to ask what the status is of her plants or of dad’s tomato plants.
This morning she went outside all by herself and came in with a green pepper—her first green pepper from her pepper plant she selected. She had been talking to us about the size and had waited until it was the “right” size to pick apparently. And today was the day.
She brought it into the bedroom and named it…wait for it…”Cutie”. Which is what she names everything. I am not exaggerating on this point, I assure you. I told her she had to come up with a name that didn’t involve “cutie” in it. Meaning it couldn’t be, “cutie pepper”. She tried, “cute pepper”, insisting that didn’t have the word, “cutie” in it, but I told her no go.
She went away for about a minute before coming back to the bedroom at which point she asked if I wanted any ketchup? No, I was fine, I told her and then she explained she had named the pepper, ‘Ketchup’.
She called it Ketchup as she bit into it five minutes later. She called it Ketchup as dad cut it into pieces five minutes after that. She offered me a piece of Ketchup, which I accepted. And then she came to find me to show me the last piece of Ketchup before she ate it.
It might have been a confusing name, but it was so much better than another ‘Cutie’.
The Big Boy Update: My son got up from the dinner table and said with appropriate hand gestures, “Hey guys, I always have a shotgun when I’m in the house.” He was smiling. I was confused because we don’t have a shotgun in our house and he knows it. I was more confused when he told me his father told him that advice. And then I realized what he was talking about—Fortnite, the game. I agreed with him that for close range spread damage a shotgun was good to have in a house while you’re looking for supplies.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter asked me if I could read the next chapter of, “The Phantom Told Booth”. I explained what a tollbooth was and that it was that word instead of ’told booth’. My daughter said, “I’ll just keep calling it ’told booth’”.
He got additional planters and put in a drip system. The children selected their plants and then we say back and watched them grow.
The growing has been the most fun and interesting to the children. We’ll go out to the deck and check on the status of the various plants, pick what’s ripe and then, usually, eat them once inside. My daughter will go out with one of the three of us to ask what the status is of her plants or of dad’s tomato plants.
This morning she went outside all by herself and came in with a green pepper—her first green pepper from her pepper plant she selected. She had been talking to us about the size and had waited until it was the “right” size to pick apparently. And today was the day.
She brought it into the bedroom and named it…wait for it…”Cutie”. Which is what she names everything. I am not exaggerating on this point, I assure you. I told her she had to come up with a name that didn’t involve “cutie” in it. Meaning it couldn’t be, “cutie pepper”. She tried, “cute pepper”, insisting that didn’t have the word, “cutie” in it, but I told her no go.
She went away for about a minute before coming back to the bedroom at which point she asked if I wanted any ketchup? No, I was fine, I told her and then she explained she had named the pepper, ‘Ketchup’.
She called it Ketchup as she bit into it five minutes later. She called it Ketchup as dad cut it into pieces five minutes after that. She offered me a piece of Ketchup, which I accepted. And then she came to find me to show me the last piece of Ketchup before she ate it.
It might have been a confusing name, but it was so much better than another ‘Cutie’.
The Big Boy Update: My son got up from the dinner table and said with appropriate hand gestures, “Hey guys, I always have a shotgun when I’m in the house.” He was smiling. I was confused because we don’t have a shotgun in our house and he knows it. I was more confused when he told me his father told him that advice. And then I realized what he was talking about—Fortnite, the game. I agreed with him that for close range spread damage a shotgun was good to have in a house while you’re looking for supplies.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter asked me if I could read the next chapter of, “The Phantom Told Booth”. I explained what a tollbooth was and that it was that word instead of ’told booth’. My daughter said, “I’ll just keep calling it ’told booth’”.
Friday, June 29, 2018
What I Learned
My daughter came home from school today with a full backpack of work she’d completed over the last quarter with a few complications she’d worked on since the beginning of the year. In the stack was one final work she did today, summarizing her year in Kindergarten:
She typed the entire page, unassisted with spelling from her teacher. Translation was provided for us by her Braillest, who’s last day of work before retirement was also today.
The Big Boy Update: My son’s was on the way to tumbling with his sitter this evening when I got a text that my son has said, “my brain can’t handle anymore phrases or big words.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter wanted a piece of the Himalayan pink rock salt I had gotten at the store last week. I gave her a small piece which she sucked on while bouncing on the purple yoga ball. With all the bouncing around, it fell out of her mouth. I helped her find it and got it washed off. The second time it fell out she proclaimed exasperatedly, “my salt fell out. I can’t find it. This is a really, really bad day.”
She typed the entire page, unassisted with spelling from her teacher. Translation was provided for us by her Braillest, who’s last day of work before retirement was also today.
The Big Boy Update: My son’s was on the way to tumbling with his sitter this evening when I got a text that my son has said, “my brain can’t handle anymore phrases or big words.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter wanted a piece of the Himalayan pink rock salt I had gotten at the store last week. I gave her a small piece which she sucked on while bouncing on the purple yoga ball. With all the bouncing around, it fell out of her mouth. I helped her find it and got it washed off. The second time it fell out she proclaimed exasperatedly, “my salt fell out. I can’t find it. This is a really, really bad day.”
Thursday, June 28, 2018
Crowns
I went to the dentist (Walter, who is also my next door neighbor) two days ago and then again today. I have some crowns that need replacing and some new crowns. I was at his office for several hours the other day getting things prepped for the new crowns.
To numb my mouth the numbing medication had epinephrine added included in the syringe. The epinephrine helps the medication stay in the area for longer so you don’t have to be numbed more than once. But it also gets into your system while you lie there in the chair.
I felt strange. When I got up I felt half drunk and almost stumbled getting to the bathroom. Apparently it affects people differently. When I left with several new temporary crowns in place, I sat in the car for a while just to make sure I was safe to drive.
Then, as is common with my mouth, I broke one of the temporary crowns later that day. I didn’t want to be a bother, but when Walter messaged me the next day asking how things were going, I told him. He said he wasn’t surprised, that particular tooth was very thin on the crown and if I’d come back in this morning he’d use a different type of material for the temporary crown.
I go back in two weeks for the new crowns, which are zirconia and apparently won’t break, even if you hit them with a hammer, so Walter says. I have no plans of hitting my mouth with a hammer, so I think we’re safe there.
The Big Boy Update: My husband took my son to see The Incredibles 2. My son is always, always resistant to see any movie unless he’s seen it before. Once he’s watched a movie though he loves it, talks about it and wants to see it again. My son was really into the movie, especially the parts with Jack Jack. He yelled out and clapped at one point he was so excited.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter likes to sing lot. Sometimes my son will ask her to stop. This might be in the car when she’s loud and we’re all trying to talk. It might be at home when my son is working on school work. My son will ask her multiple times to stop, asking politely and then more insistently and then angrily. Tonight the roles were reversed. My son was jumping around and singing in the living room and my daughter couldn’t hear what she was watching on her iPad. I told her that’s what it’s like when she does the same thing to her brother—which she does regularly. I don’t think she liked the comparison.
To numb my mouth the numbing medication had epinephrine added included in the syringe. The epinephrine helps the medication stay in the area for longer so you don’t have to be numbed more than once. But it also gets into your system while you lie there in the chair.
I felt strange. When I got up I felt half drunk and almost stumbled getting to the bathroom. Apparently it affects people differently. When I left with several new temporary crowns in place, I sat in the car for a while just to make sure I was safe to drive.
Then, as is common with my mouth, I broke one of the temporary crowns later that day. I didn’t want to be a bother, but when Walter messaged me the next day asking how things were going, I told him. He said he wasn’t surprised, that particular tooth was very thin on the crown and if I’d come back in this morning he’d use a different type of material for the temporary crown.
I go back in two weeks for the new crowns, which are zirconia and apparently won’t break, even if you hit them with a hammer, so Walter says. I have no plans of hitting my mouth with a hammer, so I think we’re safe there.
The Big Boy Update: My husband took my son to see The Incredibles 2. My son is always, always resistant to see any movie unless he’s seen it before. Once he’s watched a movie though he loves it, talks about it and wants to see it again. My son was really into the movie, especially the parts with Jack Jack. He yelled out and clapped at one point he was so excited.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter likes to sing lot. Sometimes my son will ask her to stop. This might be in the car when she’s loud and we’re all trying to talk. It might be at home when my son is working on school work. My son will ask her multiple times to stop, asking politely and then more insistently and then angrily. Tonight the roles were reversed. My son was jumping around and singing in the living room and my daughter couldn’t hear what she was watching on her iPad. I told her that’s what it’s like when she does the same thing to her brother—which she does regularly. I don’t think she liked the comparison.
Wednesday, June 27, 2018
Long Pants Preference
My daughter told me the other week she couldn’t find any long pants in her shorts drawer. I adjust the children’s clothing in their dressers based on the change in season and this was shortly after I’d removed most of her pants, replacing them with shorts. I do this for her so she has less items of clothing to sort through to find what she wants to wear. I do this for my son, because he will continue to wear his known, preferred clothing even when the temperature makes it uncomfortable for him to do so.
With my daughter, who has always liked shorts, I was flummoxed at why she would want to wear pants when the weather had had days in a row in the eighties and even nineties. Thinking back, I recalled her wearing pants a lot, even after telling me she liked the new shorts I’d gotten her at the used clothing store.
I thought maybe it was similar to her brother, a simple preference because her pants were knowns to her. And yet she was wearing a lot of the new short-sleeved shirts I’d bought. So I asked her. She dodged the question at first but then told me it was because she had scratches on her legs.
She did and does have scratches on her legs. She has bruises too. Sometimes she even has bits of eczema. Her legs are in a constant state of infirmary. She’s never shown any signs of being self-conscious about anything before. A lot of worrying about how we look is based on knowing what we look like and comparing ourselves to how others look. And she can’t do that.
But other children might have asked her why her legs are scratched up—and she doesn’t have much of an answer other than, “I can’t see so I run into things all the time”. Which is exactly what happens. I don’t think (if this is what happened) the question was asked in a teasing way. Her kindergarten class is a little too young for that. But something about it bothered her.
She’s ending the school year choosing to wear pants every day. When I suggest shorts she’s fine with them, but she selects pants every morning. Two more days of kindergarten and she’ll be a first grader. I think I’m much more excited about that than she is.
The Big Boy Update: My son and I went to Biscuitville today for breakfast. We go every so often together and have eggs, bacon, pancakes and of course biscuits. He asked me if Biscuitville was my favorite restaurant. I told him it was certainly one of them but that I didn’t think I could say any single restaurant was my favorite because I like so many different places and types of food. He said, “my favorite restaurant is eating food. I like at least one thing at every restaurant.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has been having fun with puffy stickers with her friends on her cab ride. I have a big assortment from well before the children were born I didn’t think I’d ever find a use for. Random sticker sheets that would be useful if I was an avid scrapbooker—which I’m definitely not. I don’t know what they do with the stickers in the car, but Beverly, their driver, says they don’t make a mess and it keeps them occupied so I keep sending them. Today my daughter came home, handed me the now empty bag the stickers had been in that morning. She took off her shoes and socks and then reached inside the collar of her shirt and started pulling sticker after sticker off her chest to put on the table. There were so many I started laughing, asking her if that was her, “spare sticker storage”. She and I laughed together as she found twenty-odd stickers. Did she possibly get the idea because her chest is where they put the EKG leads which are stuck on her every time she has an EUA?
With my daughter, who has always liked shorts, I was flummoxed at why she would want to wear pants when the weather had had days in a row in the eighties and even nineties. Thinking back, I recalled her wearing pants a lot, even after telling me she liked the new shorts I’d gotten her at the used clothing store.
I thought maybe it was similar to her brother, a simple preference because her pants were knowns to her. And yet she was wearing a lot of the new short-sleeved shirts I’d bought. So I asked her. She dodged the question at first but then told me it was because she had scratches on her legs.
She did and does have scratches on her legs. She has bruises too. Sometimes she even has bits of eczema. Her legs are in a constant state of infirmary. She’s never shown any signs of being self-conscious about anything before. A lot of worrying about how we look is based on knowing what we look like and comparing ourselves to how others look. And she can’t do that.
But other children might have asked her why her legs are scratched up—and she doesn’t have much of an answer other than, “I can’t see so I run into things all the time”. Which is exactly what happens. I don’t think (if this is what happened) the question was asked in a teasing way. Her kindergarten class is a little too young for that. But something about it bothered her.
She’s ending the school year choosing to wear pants every day. When I suggest shorts she’s fine with them, but she selects pants every morning. Two more days of kindergarten and she’ll be a first grader. I think I’m much more excited about that than she is.
The Big Boy Update: My son and I went to Biscuitville today for breakfast. We go every so often together and have eggs, bacon, pancakes and of course biscuits. He asked me if Biscuitville was my favorite restaurant. I told him it was certainly one of them but that I didn’t think I could say any single restaurant was my favorite because I like so many different places and types of food. He said, “my favorite restaurant is eating food. I like at least one thing at every restaurant.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has been having fun with puffy stickers with her friends on her cab ride. I have a big assortment from well before the children were born I didn’t think I’d ever find a use for. Random sticker sheets that would be useful if I was an avid scrapbooker—which I’m definitely not. I don’t know what they do with the stickers in the car, but Beverly, their driver, says they don’t make a mess and it keeps them occupied so I keep sending them. Today my daughter came home, handed me the now empty bag the stickers had been in that morning. She took off her shoes and socks and then reached inside the collar of her shirt and started pulling sticker after sticker off her chest to put on the table. There were so many I started laughing, asking her if that was her, “spare sticker storage”. She and I laughed together as she found twenty-odd stickers. Did she possibly get the idea because her chest is where they put the EKG leads which are stuck on her every time she has an EUA?
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
He Does It Better
My husband mentioned tonight how my daughter’s hair still looked good after two days without being washed—and how he did her hair. Also, when I was going to blog about how he’s better at doing her hair than I am. So here it is.
The thing is, he does do it better. I tried product after product on my daughter’s fine, delicate, fly-away hair in the hopes I’d come up with a magic formula to make her hair both manageable and silky smooth. I have yet to find the formula for that though.
What my husband does is some combination of product spraying, drying a certain way, followed by a final spray of product and then a wee bit more drying. Every time he does this her hair looks good for days.
I think I should sign him up for hair drying duty going forward. Although he also admits he’s miserable at putting her hair into an elastic band. He doesn’t frequently have to do this, even though her hair is put up most days to prevent food from getting in it and to keep it out of her work as she leans over to see whatever it is she’s working on.
On the occasions when he’s taken her to Detroit, it’s always interesting to see what state her hair is in when they arrive home. My daughter doesn’t seem to care though.
The Big Boy Update: I asked my daughter if I could hug her tonight as she was rolling around on the floor, wrapping herself in a blanket. She was watching (listening) to her brother play Fortnite and protested when I hugged her too long, saying I loved her while she was saying I was crushing her. Her brother, mid-game, informed us, “you can’t love someone too much.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I’ve been looking at options to have the computer speak what my daughter is typing. Voiceover, which she’s used on the iPad for navigation, works well on the Mac. I turned it on tonight and found out she already knew the location of the ASDF keys as well as the shift and space bar. I showed her how to locate and spell her name, with each key pressed speaking out what she’d typed. She had a good bit of fun with the numbers, although she was surprised there was no ’10’ key. She’ll have to learn to touch type in the next few years. Soon enough she’s going to be sending emails to people based on her track record with picking up technology.
The thing is, he does do it better. I tried product after product on my daughter’s fine, delicate, fly-away hair in the hopes I’d come up with a magic formula to make her hair both manageable and silky smooth. I have yet to find the formula for that though.
What my husband does is some combination of product spraying, drying a certain way, followed by a final spray of product and then a wee bit more drying. Every time he does this her hair looks good for days.
I think I should sign him up for hair drying duty going forward. Although he also admits he’s miserable at putting her hair into an elastic band. He doesn’t frequently have to do this, even though her hair is put up most days to prevent food from getting in it and to keep it out of her work as she leans over to see whatever it is she’s working on.
On the occasions when he’s taken her to Detroit, it’s always interesting to see what state her hair is in when they arrive home. My daughter doesn’t seem to care though.
The Big Boy Update: I asked my daughter if I could hug her tonight as she was rolling around on the floor, wrapping herself in a blanket. She was watching (listening) to her brother play Fortnite and protested when I hugged her too long, saying I loved her while she was saying I was crushing her. Her brother, mid-game, informed us, “you can’t love someone too much.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I’ve been looking at options to have the computer speak what my daughter is typing. Voiceover, which she’s used on the iPad for navigation, works well on the Mac. I turned it on tonight and found out she already knew the location of the ASDF keys as well as the shift and space bar. I showed her how to locate and spell her name, with each key pressed speaking out what she’d typed. She had a good bit of fun with the numbers, although she was surprised there was no ’10’ key. She’ll have to learn to touch type in the next few years. Soon enough she’s going to be sending emails to people based on her track record with picking up technology.
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