Phillippe

We got some news today about one of my son's teachers.   He has been learning Spanish since he was four-years-old.   We Ms. Carina as did my son and when she decided to stop teaching to spend more time with her young children, we were sad.   That is until Mr. Phillipe replaced her.  He was a single man on a campus of all women administrators, staff, and teachers but he fit right in and never seemed to mind.  He was always happy and my son liked him immediately. 

The next year when Mr. Phillipe offered Chess Club after school, my son joined that and while he wasn't ever that good at chess, he liked being in the class.   Last school year, Mr. Phillippe hadn't been feeling well for some time and around Christmas, he discovered he had lung cancer and had to take time off to pursue treatment. 

The children were sad and concerned.  They wrote him letters and sent well-wishes.   In his absence, Ms. Carina came back to help and has stayed on with the school.  Today, we received a message that Phillippe had died last night.

My husband and I decided to tell my son tonight when the time was right.   I wasn't sure when that would be or how he would react.   The time seemed to present itself when he and I were folding laundry together.   When I told him he put his head under the clothes and said, "nooo...".  Then he sat up and talked to me about him.   

We talked about chess club and all the things he taught my son.   I said every time he played chess he could remember Mr. Phillipe.   My son got an idea, saying he could remember every time he did (and here is where he couldn't remember the name of the move) in chess, he would remember Mr. Phillipe.   I told him that would be a lovely way to honor his memory.  

Then my son looked at me and said, "he was too good to die."   I'll miss him too, I said. 

The Big Boy Update:  My son has, by choice, spent time playing with his sister today instead of wanting to be on the computer.  They have some new made up games they're playing together that doesn't require my daughter to need to see.   I don't think he thinks of the games in that way and they're no less fun.   

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter has either been dysregulated because something is bothering her a lot these past few days or she is going a bit mad from all the COVID-19 indoors and alone.   The weather has been rotten and her friends can't come inside and haven't been around even so.   She did some LEGO work with her father today but she was almost mean to him the whole time but not in any way that made sense.   Maybe Dhruti will help her when she sees her this week. 

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night...

 ...in my mind.   I was so frustrated yesterday at one of my printers that I stormed off to bed without writing a post, so this is tomorrow with me back-dating this post.   I had an issue I thought I'd fixed that only caused another issue involving hot, melted filament to ooze out of the printer while it was running.   Not something you want to happen. 

I went to bed worried because I had no idea how to fix the problem.  Then, I watched some videos and the fix, now that I'd completely rebuilt the extruder, including getting thermal paste all over my hands (it's not fun stuff and it smells bad) and the final adjustment part I was missing is a simple, single screw fix.  

I was doubly concerned because this printer, the Prusa Mini+ is the one I'm taking to my son's class on Friday when I present to them about 3D printing and I need the printer to work reliably.   When I got up, I got into a conversation with another maker, and the issue I'd been having he had also coincidentally experienced, including the same fix.   His printer has been working flawlessly since he made the change.  

What a relief.   I hope I have the same results.   We'll know in a day or two. 

The Big Boy Tiny Girl No Screens Potato:  My son lost screens yesterday.  This forced him to do offline things and while at first, he was angry, he had a great day playing with his sister.   That blanket that is effectively a pouch with a hole in one corner now has every pillow and blanket the two of them could find stuffed into it.   It's too heavy to drag alone, but they're loving their, "potato."  They laughed, yelled, and romped around the house yesterday, dragging the potato (and who knows how much dirt) behind them.  

Mods Teeth and Hair

My husband and I are making some modifications to the mechanical room, that was then the pinball and workshop room and is now generally referred to as the print room.   The modifications are mostly a new rack we're adding in place of a table, but there has been a lot of things that had to happen to get everything finished.   It's still not finished.  It's a good thing tomorrow is Saturday.  My back is sore.

The Big Boy Update:  I don't know how to cut hair.   The only hair I've cut is my son's during COVID-19. My husband had me help with his one time, but he knew what to do.  My son's I just sort of winged, basing what I did on how I'd seen people cut hair in salons.  Now, my son only wants me to cut his hair.  He was in a hurry last night and I wasn't sure if I'd done a truly bad job or a sort of bad job.   This morning after a shower and sleeping on it, it looks like it always does when he's gotten it cut.  Well, not that professional, but not bad either.   Fortunately for me, he has wavy hair that hides my lack of skill. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter fell on the coffee table yesterday and her bottom tooth went entirely through her lip.   All the way kind of ouch.   We asked our next-door-neighbor, who is our dentist, to check on her and he confirmed our suspicions.   The tooth hadn't moved and wasn't wiggling.   The tissue was a fairly clean cut.   She was uncomfortable for a bit but amazingly is eating and doing everything she normally does.  It could have been worse.  I'm very glad it wasn't.

Rebuilt

Tonight is going to be short and short.   I don't know about sweet.  I rebuilt two extruders on two printers today, which was a good exercise as they require periodic maintenance and I learned some things about one of my newer printers.  But I'm tired and I want to go to bed.   That's it.   That's all I've got.

The Potato Update:  We have a massive potato in our house.  There is a blanket that's stitched up all around except for a small opening a child can fit into.   My children stuffed every blanket they could find into it today, a partial snow day here, even though there was very little snow.  It is heavy and hard to move.  But they're thrilled to roll it around.  As long as it's out of the walkways, that's okay with me. 

The 911 Near Miss

Two nights ago I got two hours of sleep.  It was just one of those nights.   There were reasons and none of them were good ones.   I wasn't binging on The Mandalorian season 2, although if I don't watch it soon, my husband may tie me to a chair and make me.   It was a long night and sleep wasn't had and as a result, I was tired.  

I got to the Chiropractor's office because I had all ideas he would be able to help me sleep better the following night but before I went in, I pulled out my iPad in the parking lot to respond to something.   I spent a few minutes working on the email and the next thing I knew, someone was tapping on my window.  

"Huh?" was probably what I said.  I recognized one of the front desk staff.   I waved to her and said, I fell asleep, thanks.  I was getting ready to come in, putting my iPad back in my purse and rolling down the window for the dog, who was sitting beside me, when I saw the doctor himself at my window.  

This was not right.   I didn't see him in the parking lot—had never seen him in the parking lot—and I was in my groggy state still a little confused.  He asked me if I was okay and I reiterated that I'd dozed off.  He went back inside and I followed shortly behind him.  

I saw him a while later when it was my turn to be seen.   He told me there was a lady who came in and said I was slumped over in the car.   She thought I might be dead and was going to call 911.  She was only stopped from calling 911 if the doctor came out to make sure I was okay.

I am baffled by the concept that you'd call 911 before tapping on the window or calling out to someone if you were concerned about them.  She could have used a stick if she thought I was COVID-19 infected to the point that I was on death's door and getting near the car was dangerous to her health.  Or yelled.

The front desk person came out and knocked and I was alive.  Why did the doctor, who was six people behind, have to come out to check so she wouldn't call?   People fall asleep in their cars.  It's not unheard of.   I could have been with someone who went into the office and I was waiting for them and was napping while I waited.  I was nodded over, looking at my iPad, I wasn't sprawled out all over the steering wheel.   

And lastly, if I was dead, why would you call 911? 

The good news is I wasn't dead.  And I got a much better night of sleep last night.  Thanks to my chiropractor for always taking care of me and making sure I'm not dead. 

The Big Boy Update:  My son was folding the laundry the other day and I was going to come to give him a hug.  At the time he was working on folding his socks.  He hefted the socks in an outstretched arm and said, "I have a pair of socks and I'm not afraid of using them!"   I held my hands up in a surrendering gesture and backed away laughing.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter asked me, "are all dogs incredulous?"  I said I wasn't sure what she meant with that sentence and could she tell me more.   She replied, "you don't know what that means? It's the most important word."

When Motivation Strikes

Yesterday morning my daughter was antagonizing her brother.  Her brother was being mean. Things escalated until I heard him calling my daughter stupid repeatedly.   I called the two of them in and levied consequences.  For him, there would be no screens during his allotted screen time.  For my daughter, there would be no LEGO making with her father that evening.   They were mad.  That was good. 

When I picked up my son from school he asked if there was anything he could do to earn screens back.   I said I didn't know that there was.   He offered if he and his sister came up with a plan on how they would use negotiation instead of name-calling and violence, would I reconsider?

This was initiative on his part and could end up making a change in how he and his sister interacted.  I said pending his father's agreement, if the two of them worked it out thoroughly, I would reconsider.  Not promise, reconsider.   So it had better be good. 

He came in and ran upstairs to start writing.   My daughter wanted nothing to do with is so I told her he might make all the decisions in that case.   She followed him up.  In a half-hour, he came downstairs with a full-page written out.   This is the child that hates writing thank you notes and barely gets anything written without us sending him back again.  

Here's what the two of them came up with.   We have been referring to it ever since.

The Big Boy Update:  My son was folding laundry this afternoon.  I offered to show him a trick on how to fold the shirts.   He said, "I know mom, an old boyfriend from college taught you how to do that.  You've already told us all your tricks.   You're gonna need to get new tricks."

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  My daughter had an appointment with Dhruti today right in the middle of her morning EL class.   I put her in the car with her Chromebook on her lap and got her connected to the class meet.   She was able to be in school and in the car at the same time.  Technology.  

Vivid Dreams

I need to do some updates on what's happening with my daughter, or perhaps what I mean is things she's said and done.   Her life is interesting in different ways than other people who can see the world around them. I'll break it into parts as they happened at different times.  

The Stairs Are Where I'm Free

My daughter would love to run more than anything other than being able to see, I'd venture to guess.  Everything is a hazard to her.  By way of an example, my son was sweeping up crumbs from the pile of saltine crackers he'd eaten earlier in the day at the bar seats by the kitchen sink where the children eat their meals.   In order to get all the crumbs, he moved the two seats away from their home location where they're pushed up against the bar.   My daughter came downstairs at a fairly speedy clip and full-body slammed into the solid wooden chair.  She was hurt, she was upset, and she blamed my son.  

We try to keep the whole house safe, but it's not possible all the time.  Today, my daughter and I were in the basement when it was time to go to the second floor for her next online class.   (Today was the first day back to school for her which will be online until the middle of next month at least.)  On the way up the stairs she ran ahead of me, calling back, "the stairs are where I'm free!"   I hadn't thought about it but she's right in that.  There are never unexpected things to run into on stairs.   I'm glad she has at least one place she can feel safe.  

The Sound of Rain

I hadn't realized it had begun raining one-day last week.   My daughter told me about the rain and I asked if she was sure it was raining?   She told me it hadn't been raining long at all, less than twenty minutes.   Then she said, "I can tell how long it's been raining by how the cars sound."  I asked her what she meant.  She said it was how the wheels sounded on the road with the water that had already landed.

Always Asking

My daughter told me in frustration one day, "Do you know what annoying about being blind?  Everyone can always see the words or the thing or anything else before I do.   Because I have to always ask.  I always have to ask."  

Seeing Dreams

This one was the most surprising of all the things I have to write about tonight.   It seems like much of what I write regarding my daughter has an undertone of sadness to it.   She can't run freely, she has to ask what everything is, having to grieve the loss of her vision, hurting herself again and again, etc.   This one I don't know if I'd call happy or hopeful, but my daughter has dreams where she can see.  She was having her periodic appointment with her psychiatrist and she mentioned this to him.   It's not all good though.  She described being in a field in one dream and having a good time with friends,   But then a monster came and chased her.   "She said sadly, they always end badly."  Her doctor told me it was a possibility it was a side effect of the medication she was taking, so perhaps when she stops that in the future, she'll be able to have happy dreams in which she can see.

The Big Boy Update:  It's Not Your Fault.   I have a conversation with my son from time to time about his responsibility when it comes to my daughter.  For the bar chair incident, I told him it wasn't his fault that his sister ran into the chair, even though she blamed him quite loudly.   I told him he had more responsibility than he would if his sister could see, however.   He's seen her regularly run into things and get hurt.  It happens so often he probably doesn't even think much of it and considers it a normal thing.   What I told him was that we had a responsibility to keep her safe, so she could move in the house and not constantly hurt herself.  That includes not leaving toys in the middle of the floor, picking up shoes, and always putting furniture, drawers, etc. back to their home location.  It's a big responsibility and I told him how proud I was that he always thought of his sister and tried to keep her safe.  He does a good job and he does care about his sister.   It's never his fault, but it does feel like it sometimes.