uuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.....
this is how i feel, and i did not even eat any candy! this holiday is so weird. fun, but weird. it was painful to watch the sugar consumption. both kids had glazed eyes after about 40 minutes of trick or treating. caaaaaaannnnnnnnnndddyyyyyyyyyyyyy...
ava had a look of shock on her face the whole time. i don't think she remembers last year that well, and so her mental picture of what to expect was not entirely accurate. i think that the reality of hundreds of people dressed up in the most unidentifiable ways (darth vadar, princess leah, witches, skeletons, cartoon characters, the devil...) was completely beyond her ability to thoroughly absorb and process in real time. she had the candy thing down though.
carter got the idea right off the bat. hmmmm...i go up to these people, hold out this bucket, and they give me candy. terrrific! why not do this every day?
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Something that I wanted to note, but keep forgetting—many of Ava’s little speech quirks have gone away. I don’t know when it happened, but at least 3 months ago I noticed that she was not using a ‘t’ sound for a hard ‘c’ and now says animals instead of aminals, and vanilla instead of vamilla. It is so interesting how this evolves. But she still says el-phalents, which I adore. And cell-o-phone.
The other day, we were in the car and she asked me a question—I forget what it was. I began an answer, and then to help her understand, I asked her a question. All I got was a sigh and a dramatic “oh, I don’t know…” Every question that I asked thereafter was met with the same couldn’t be bothered response. This drove me nuts, and I allowed it to. Finally I pulled over and turned around and asked her if she knew why I was upset. She said no. I then launched into a commentary on people that just went through life not trying to learn and better themselves and how I thought that was so awful and that one of the most important things is to always want to improve your mind and your heart, and to sit there through life expecting the world to unfold before you was outrageous and entitled and as long as I had anything to say about it I would not allow that to occur in my presence. To her credit, she listened very carefully. Clearly I sent these words flying over her head, and she is one of the most curious kids I know, so perhaps it was not merited, but I could not help myself.
Carter went to the dentist on Monday. His tooth needs to be filled, but it will not be the disaster we had expected. The dentist said that it would take 5 minutes, max, so no anesthesia (no drilling, obviously). Thank god. He was SO good. Just lay there with his head in the dentist’s lap looking up at him with these huge fingers poking around in his mouth. He is such a trooper.
He likes to hide now. He thinks it is a riot. I do not.
He also likes to scream as loud as he can, often in a contest with Ava. This is usually in the car. They can be indistinguishable, and very very loud.
And he loves to run. When I take him out of the tub and set him down, he takes off, with me in pursuit, chasing him down with jammies and a diaper while he tears around at top speed, laughing with glee. And recently he started stomping without holding on to something. He used to do this while he held on to a chair or the bed or something his height—he would hold on and stomp stomp stomp stomp as fast as he could—essentially running in place. Now he can do it by himself, so often he will come into the kitchen, get my attention and then do this little stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp dance/jig thing for me with the biggest smile on his face. And then he claps for himself.
Ava has figured out how to pile up a bunch of pillows so that she can dive off the couch into them.
Tomorrow is her ‘special day’ at school. There is a bucket that is sent home with each kid in rotation, and we are supposed to bring in 2 photos, a book and snack. She had a hard time choosing the photos, but we got that squared away. The bucket was a total source of conflict for the kids, so that went on top of the refrigerator, and then picking a book was impossible. We have 4, and I hope the teacher does not mind. And then there was snack. My suggestion is that you always have a back-up plan (read: store-bought), should your great idea of making pumpkin bread result in something that makes you say “aaaaahhhh” while holding your mouth open so that the bread touches as little of the inside of your mouth as possible before you can get to the garbage can. At 6:45 PM (bedtime) I was making an emergency batch of pumpkin cookies. Thank GOD I had purchased an extra can of pumpkin goo. They turned out fine. I have no idea what went wrong with the bread—I did follow the recipe, I know that—it was a simple quickbread in theory. Whatever. It all worked out.
For all of the RealSimple readers out there:
Salad Spinner
Original Use: Flinging excess water from dark leafy greens.
Ah-ha! Use: Sit and Spin—remove the top, invert it and sit on it (provided you fit—Moms need not try) and spin and spin and spin. Reserve the bottom for later use as a basket for inside basketball. Who needs Hasbro or Mattel?
The other day, we were in the car and she asked me a question—I forget what it was. I began an answer, and then to help her understand, I asked her a question. All I got was a sigh and a dramatic “oh, I don’t know…” Every question that I asked thereafter was met with the same couldn’t be bothered response. This drove me nuts, and I allowed it to. Finally I pulled over and turned around and asked her if she knew why I was upset. She said no. I then launched into a commentary on people that just went through life not trying to learn and better themselves and how I thought that was so awful and that one of the most important things is to always want to improve your mind and your heart, and to sit there through life expecting the world to unfold before you was outrageous and entitled and as long as I had anything to say about it I would not allow that to occur in my presence. To her credit, she listened very carefully. Clearly I sent these words flying over her head, and she is one of the most curious kids I know, so perhaps it was not merited, but I could not help myself.
Carter went to the dentist on Monday. His tooth needs to be filled, but it will not be the disaster we had expected. The dentist said that it would take 5 minutes, max, so no anesthesia (no drilling, obviously). Thank god. He was SO good. Just lay there with his head in the dentist’s lap looking up at him with these huge fingers poking around in his mouth. He is such a trooper.
He likes to hide now. He thinks it is a riot. I do not.
He also likes to scream as loud as he can, often in a contest with Ava. This is usually in the car. They can be indistinguishable, and very very loud.
And he loves to run. When I take him out of the tub and set him down, he takes off, with me in pursuit, chasing him down with jammies and a diaper while he tears around at top speed, laughing with glee. And recently he started stomping without holding on to something. He used to do this while he held on to a chair or the bed or something his height—he would hold on and stomp stomp stomp stomp as fast as he could—essentially running in place. Now he can do it by himself, so often he will come into the kitchen, get my attention and then do this little stomp stomp stomp stomp stomp dance/jig thing for me with the biggest smile on his face. And then he claps for himself.
Ava has figured out how to pile up a bunch of pillows so that she can dive off the couch into them.
Tomorrow is her ‘special day’ at school. There is a bucket that is sent home with each kid in rotation, and we are supposed to bring in 2 photos, a book and snack. She had a hard time choosing the photos, but we got that squared away. The bucket was a total source of conflict for the kids, so that went on top of the refrigerator, and then picking a book was impossible. We have 4, and I hope the teacher does not mind. And then there was snack. My suggestion is that you always have a back-up plan (read: store-bought), should your great idea of making pumpkin bread result in something that makes you say “aaaaahhhh” while holding your mouth open so that the bread touches as little of the inside of your mouth as possible before you can get to the garbage can. At 6:45 PM (bedtime) I was making an emergency batch of pumpkin cookies. Thank GOD I had purchased an extra can of pumpkin goo. They turned out fine. I have no idea what went wrong with the bread—I did follow the recipe, I know that—it was a simple quickbread in theory. Whatever. It all worked out.
For all of the RealSimple readers out there:
Salad Spinner
Original Use: Flinging excess water from dark leafy greens.
Ah-ha! Use: Sit and Spin—remove the top, invert it and sit on it (provided you fit—Moms need not try) and spin and spin and spin. Reserve the bottom for later use as a basket for inside basketball. Who needs Hasbro or Mattel?
Sunday, October 22, 2006
i watched 'hotel rwanda' last night. i stayed up way too late and exhausted myself, but i just had to finish it.
this stuff happens, IS happening, and here we are, still going about our business day to day. sometimes i cannot fall asleep because i lie in bed and think "right now, someone is freezing somewhere in deplorable conditions, or someone is being subjected to unspeakable violence--or right now someone is in agony, dying from a disease that is fully preventable, and while all of that is probably happening at this very moment to men and women, it is also happening to little children--at this very moment, somewhere in the world." and here i am, in bed, warm and cozy, next to my kids and i look at them and my heart nearly explodes, and it all gets magnified, and i nearly go nuts trying to understand not just why these things happen, but why i cannot feel empowered to do something. which is sort of the point of the movie. we did nothing. but who is 'we?' -- how does one do something when governments (not just the usa) are enacting policies that either cause the social conditions that lead to desperation, or they perpetuate the desperation for their own (our own?) gain, or they simply do not provide the only sort of help that might stop a crisis that is out of control. from the movie, it appears that the only thing that might have stopped the genocide in rwanda was military intervention. perhaps there were many other things that could have been accomplished prior to the moment of crisis, and perhaps military intervention would not have prevented later conflict, but it probably would have prevented the slaughter. And there was no help on the sort of large international level that was necessary. I know this touches upon the complexities of international relations and politics and blah blah blah, and I certainly am in no position to evaluate if such action would have been in the united states’ best interests or britain’s best interests, or belgium’s best interests, but that is not my point. My point is that since governments only act in their best interests, how do we manage to prevent/assist/arrest crises that do not fall into that category, when the way to do so inevitably relies upon resources that often only governments can provide (like an army)? It just makes me feel helpless. (Note that I am avoiding the rather pertinent example of when our government and its military is the cause of suffering—that is a whole other ball of wax). And it is not just genocidal situations like Rwanda or sudan, but what I call chronic crises—illness, hunger, human rights, poverty, (hurricanes) etc. Yes, I know there is debate galore about how to best promote economic development, health care, the free market, world trade. fair trade and how that all is interconnected to food production and human rights and illness and so on—academics are incessantly evaluating these connections, and if I hear that there is “a need for a new paradigm” one more time, I think I am going to explode. FINE. Someone needs to come up with that new paradigm, and there are thousands of people trying hard to do so, and it is important, and it is pertinent, and it will be debated for years and years, but it is not changing the fact that people are suffering RIGHT NOW.
People will always suffer. I know that. There will always be poverty and violence. I know that. I am not hoping for a utopian miracle. But knowing that is not the same as resigning oneself to it.
but the question is, what works? how does one really work effectively against a system that seems to exploit and promote suffering? all of the NGOs and non-profits and development projects and peace corps and health clinics and schools still cannot stop genocide or hunger or poverty or torture or violence when there is a powerful government or group that wants such a crisis. clearly these groups provide help. I am not suggesting that they do not. but they have no power when it comes down to it, like the UN in Rwanda. They are an important component, but not a solution. How in the world aid workers manage to stay sane when their work in never-ending and so monumental is entirely beyond me.
Also, there is the perpetual issue of those with privilege (the haves) deciding what is in the best interests of the have-nots. The book Mountains Beyond Mountains is a good exploration of this issue.
And then of course, here I am. Not a member of an aid group, not running off to devastation to help. I have small children, and of course I am not dragging them off to some disaster. Can I give money? Yup. Is that effective? Perhaps.
So, from my clearly privileged vantage point, I am left endlessly perseverating on what actually works. I have no conclusions to speak of, but I have some thoughts.
One thought is regarding information. Which boils down to the media. Journalism, fiction, non-fiction, movies, etc. This can be rather powerful, once a critical mass has been reached. And it can be used for evil very successfully. And obviously governments fear it. It can be used for good, and has been. But people do not want to know about the crap that goes on in the world. They do not want to be bothered. How do you bridge that gap?
The other thought is regarding faith. Yes, most wars are fought over religion, at least on the surface. But if you stand back and think about it, the same power that has destroyed so many is also the same power that has been able to intervene. Clergy of all faiths appear to have leverage (and resources) that many secular groups do not. This is obviously extremely dangerous in the wrong hands, and we are struggling with so many repercussions of such abuse, both within our country and world-wide, but there are truly powerful people that have effected tremendous good in the world simply by being faithful and recognizing the light/god/divine/buddah/universe/goddess/etc in each and every person. It is easy to turn to faith for one’s own benefit or enlightenment, and while there is nothing inherently harmful in that, it is still self-centered. It is a bit harder to turn to faith in a self-effacing manner that puts the ego to rest and instead focuses on others, but those who do so are rather empowered, I think.
Perhaps therein lies the answer to my question. it seems so simple, and yet so very difficult.
this stuff happens, IS happening, and here we are, still going about our business day to day. sometimes i cannot fall asleep because i lie in bed and think "right now, someone is freezing somewhere in deplorable conditions, or someone is being subjected to unspeakable violence--or right now someone is in agony, dying from a disease that is fully preventable, and while all of that is probably happening at this very moment to men and women, it is also happening to little children--at this very moment, somewhere in the world." and here i am, in bed, warm and cozy, next to my kids and i look at them and my heart nearly explodes, and it all gets magnified, and i nearly go nuts trying to understand not just why these things happen, but why i cannot feel empowered to do something. which is sort of the point of the movie. we did nothing. but who is 'we?' -- how does one do something when governments (not just the usa) are enacting policies that either cause the social conditions that lead to desperation, or they perpetuate the desperation for their own (our own?) gain, or they simply do not provide the only sort of help that might stop a crisis that is out of control. from the movie, it appears that the only thing that might have stopped the genocide in rwanda was military intervention. perhaps there were many other things that could have been accomplished prior to the moment of crisis, and perhaps military intervention would not have prevented later conflict, but it probably would have prevented the slaughter. And there was no help on the sort of large international level that was necessary. I know this touches upon the complexities of international relations and politics and blah blah blah, and I certainly am in no position to evaluate if such action would have been in the united states’ best interests or britain’s best interests, or belgium’s best interests, but that is not my point. My point is that since governments only act in their best interests, how do we manage to prevent/assist/arrest crises that do not fall into that category, when the way to do so inevitably relies upon resources that often only governments can provide (like an army)? It just makes me feel helpless. (Note that I am avoiding the rather pertinent example of when our government and its military is the cause of suffering—that is a whole other ball of wax). And it is not just genocidal situations like Rwanda or sudan, but what I call chronic crises—illness, hunger, human rights, poverty, (hurricanes) etc. Yes, I know there is debate galore about how to best promote economic development, health care, the free market, world trade. fair trade and how that all is interconnected to food production and human rights and illness and so on—academics are incessantly evaluating these connections, and if I hear that there is “a need for a new paradigm” one more time, I think I am going to explode. FINE. Someone needs to come up with that new paradigm, and there are thousands of people trying hard to do so, and it is important, and it is pertinent, and it will be debated for years and years, but it is not changing the fact that people are suffering RIGHT NOW.
People will always suffer. I know that. There will always be poverty and violence. I know that. I am not hoping for a utopian miracle. But knowing that is not the same as resigning oneself to it.
but the question is, what works? how does one really work effectively against a system that seems to exploit and promote suffering? all of the NGOs and non-profits and development projects and peace corps and health clinics and schools still cannot stop genocide or hunger or poverty or torture or violence when there is a powerful government or group that wants such a crisis. clearly these groups provide help. I am not suggesting that they do not. but they have no power when it comes down to it, like the UN in Rwanda. They are an important component, but not a solution. How in the world aid workers manage to stay sane when their work in never-ending and so monumental is entirely beyond me.
Also, there is the perpetual issue of those with privilege (the haves) deciding what is in the best interests of the have-nots. The book Mountains Beyond Mountains is a good exploration of this issue.
And then of course, here I am. Not a member of an aid group, not running off to devastation to help. I have small children, and of course I am not dragging them off to some disaster. Can I give money? Yup. Is that effective? Perhaps.
So, from my clearly privileged vantage point, I am left endlessly perseverating on what actually works. I have no conclusions to speak of, but I have some thoughts.
One thought is regarding information. Which boils down to the media. Journalism, fiction, non-fiction, movies, etc. This can be rather powerful, once a critical mass has been reached. And it can be used for evil very successfully. And obviously governments fear it. It can be used for good, and has been. But people do not want to know about the crap that goes on in the world. They do not want to be bothered. How do you bridge that gap?
The other thought is regarding faith. Yes, most wars are fought over religion, at least on the surface. But if you stand back and think about it, the same power that has destroyed so many is also the same power that has been able to intervene. Clergy of all faiths appear to have leverage (and resources) that many secular groups do not. This is obviously extremely dangerous in the wrong hands, and we are struggling with so many repercussions of such abuse, both within our country and world-wide, but there are truly powerful people that have effected tremendous good in the world simply by being faithful and recognizing the light/god/divine/buddah/universe/goddess/etc in each and every person. It is easy to turn to faith for one’s own benefit or enlightenment, and while there is nothing inherently harmful in that, it is still self-centered. It is a bit harder to turn to faith in a self-effacing manner that puts the ego to rest and instead focuses on others, but those who do so are rather empowered, I think.
Perhaps therein lies the answer to my question. it seems so simple, and yet so very difficult.
Friday, October 20, 2006
it snowed today. carter, ava, and i went outside after it truly accumulated (0.5 in), and the look of absolute amazement on carter's face was priceless. it was great because it was still snowing and the snowflakes were huge and clumpy, so he could really see it coming down. he looked at it, looked at me, looked at it and pointed, and then looked at me again, jaw gaping the whole time. ava walked around scooping it up and eating it, and would not stop asking when she could go skiing.
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Ava is suddenly having a hard time with my departure when we get to school. I know that as soon as I am gone she is fine (because I stand outside the periphery and peer in secretly while shushing Carter’s attempts to get Ava’s attention), but you would never guess that from the meltdown that occurs. She cries, flings herself at my leg and will not let go. It is VERY hard to peel away from that. Fortunately, all of her teachers are incredibly kind and nurturing. At St. Agnes, the teacher distracted her by asking her to help her with the guinea pig (they went to the school kitchen to get lettuce), and at Northern Lights, one teacher held her for 10 minutes and the other one got her a little robin made of felt to keep her company. I am not sure what is going on, it really could be a million things. I think it is all just catching up with her. She is the sort of child that needs so much attention and so much comforting that perhaps she is feeling that lack. The excitement and fun of school probably got her through the first month, but now it is a bit more routine and perhaps she is recognizing that the teachers cannot be with her all of the time the way Mom is. And this leaves her with the burden of filling that absence. Which means reaching out to the other kids. Which is really not easy at any age. I certainly don’t want to project my own memories onto her, but I do remember preferring the company of my mom and teachers (and later my sister) to that of my friends when I was small (I don’t remember being 3 that well, obviously, but I remember kindergarten). But, I also was, and continue to be, a total social anomaly. However, she has upped the ante on cuddle time with me, and her behavior had been very deliberately attention-getting.
I do try to remember that the motivation behind it all is the desire for my undivided attention, and I have made a conscious effort to provide as much of that as I possibly can, and there have been noticeable changes in her behavior. But I cannot take all of the credit for that—I have to say that Northern Lights (the Waldorf school) has had a profound impact on her behavior. A positive one. Respect for and kindness towards other people is a huge part of the curriculum/philosophy, and it is showing. They accomplish this with very gentle teaching, using songs and rhymes and traditions that Ava is absorbing like a sponge. She sings songs for different things that she does around the house, and not only that, she can fold a blanket expertly. Today she called me in to look at her folded blanket and I nearly fell over. It was outstandingly neat. They also make a big deal of mealtime, and make it a point to have a distinct gathering, set the table, say a blessing, and have a candle. So, today I made a point of doing the same for dinner (very hard with Carter), and I SWEAR she ate like a horse because of it. It made her so happy to sing the blessing with me—we sang it 10 times. And the candle was a huge hit. This is primarily because of the fire fairies inside that fly away when you blow out the candle, but I know she thought it was extra-special because they were there. I used to chafe at what I (as a jaded adult) saw as the hocus-pocus stuff that we did in the parent-child group at the same school, but now that she is old enough to appreciate it, I can see the wonder and joy that she gets out of it and it seems perfect. And it reminds me of how I used to feel about the possibility of magic.
On Friday we came home and made strawberry jam. Not exactly seasonal, but fun. She has a toy knife that she used to cut up the strawberries, and other than driving to Nana’s to raid her cupboard for cornstarch, it was great. We will eat it tomorrow morning. We also have pumpkins to carve. Carter should find it interesting.
He is a total riot. His personality is really starting to emerge. He has always been happy and outgoing and the life of the party, but he is even more so now. He just loves to laugh. He is also very physical, so a lot of the playing he does revolves around doing something silly to get a laugh—hide and seek, running in circles around the table, lifting his own shirt and tickling his own belly, farting (yes, he thinks it is a riot), tackling me/Ava/Dad/whomever, throwing things, riding his bike backwards at mach speed, and last, but not least, sneezing. He gets a huge kick out of sneezing. I laugh too, so that is even better. The other day we were leaving the library, and in the parking lot he stopped and got the pre-sneeze look on his face and then let loose with a doozy. I cracked up and he cracked up, and then that made me crack up more, and then he cracked up more, and so on. It is even funnier when he is about to sneeze and I laugh and make him lose the sneeze. He laughs and laughs and then tries to do it again. I could sit there and hold him and make him laugh all day. He loves it.
And it is so different from Ava. Ava laughs a lot, obviously, but not in the same way as Carter. She has a very serious, quiet side that gives her pause—she thinks everything through. He launches right in. But he holds my hand while doing it—he is solidly into making sure I am there and paying attention. If he needs me, he reaches for my hand, and expects me to come wherever he is going. If my hands are full, he drags me by my pant leg.
And he has a total book fetish. He is obsessed with them, and demands—DEMANDS—that we read them. Which is great, but he will destroy the entire bookcase to find the one book that he wants.
Update: Ava officially got sick last night, so perhaps the “I don’t wanna go to school” behavior was related to feeling sort of yucky. It is the usual—cough and goo everywhere. Though she got very upset after falling asleep, kicking and screaming at the bed in frustration over not feeling well. This is usually reserved for an upset tummy. But that appears to be ok today, so who knows?
I do try to remember that the motivation behind it all is the desire for my undivided attention, and I have made a conscious effort to provide as much of that as I possibly can, and there have been noticeable changes in her behavior. But I cannot take all of the credit for that—I have to say that Northern Lights (the Waldorf school) has had a profound impact on her behavior. A positive one. Respect for and kindness towards other people is a huge part of the curriculum/philosophy, and it is showing. They accomplish this with very gentle teaching, using songs and rhymes and traditions that Ava is absorbing like a sponge. She sings songs for different things that she does around the house, and not only that, she can fold a blanket expertly. Today she called me in to look at her folded blanket and I nearly fell over. It was outstandingly neat. They also make a big deal of mealtime, and make it a point to have a distinct gathering, set the table, say a blessing, and have a candle. So, today I made a point of doing the same for dinner (very hard with Carter), and I SWEAR she ate like a horse because of it. It made her so happy to sing the blessing with me—we sang it 10 times. And the candle was a huge hit. This is primarily because of the fire fairies inside that fly away when you blow out the candle, but I know she thought it was extra-special because they were there. I used to chafe at what I (as a jaded adult) saw as the hocus-pocus stuff that we did in the parent-child group at the same school, but now that she is old enough to appreciate it, I can see the wonder and joy that she gets out of it and it seems perfect. And it reminds me of how I used to feel about the possibility of magic.
On Friday we came home and made strawberry jam. Not exactly seasonal, but fun. She has a toy knife that she used to cut up the strawberries, and other than driving to Nana’s to raid her cupboard for cornstarch, it was great. We will eat it tomorrow morning. We also have pumpkins to carve. Carter should find it interesting.
He is a total riot. His personality is really starting to emerge. He has always been happy and outgoing and the life of the party, but he is even more so now. He just loves to laugh. He is also very physical, so a lot of the playing he does revolves around doing something silly to get a laugh—hide and seek, running in circles around the table, lifting his own shirt and tickling his own belly, farting (yes, he thinks it is a riot), tackling me/Ava/Dad/whomever, throwing things, riding his bike backwards at mach speed, and last, but not least, sneezing. He gets a huge kick out of sneezing. I laugh too, so that is even better. The other day we were leaving the library, and in the parking lot he stopped and got the pre-sneeze look on his face and then let loose with a doozy. I cracked up and he cracked up, and then that made me crack up more, and then he cracked up more, and so on. It is even funnier when he is about to sneeze and I laugh and make him lose the sneeze. He laughs and laughs and then tries to do it again. I could sit there and hold him and make him laugh all day. He loves it.
And it is so different from Ava. Ava laughs a lot, obviously, but not in the same way as Carter. She has a very serious, quiet side that gives her pause—she thinks everything through. He launches right in. But he holds my hand while doing it—he is solidly into making sure I am there and paying attention. If he needs me, he reaches for my hand, and expects me to come wherever he is going. If my hands are full, he drags me by my pant leg.
And he has a total book fetish. He is obsessed with them, and demands—DEMANDS—that we read them. Which is great, but he will destroy the entire bookcase to find the one book that he wants.
Update: Ava officially got sick last night, so perhaps the “I don’t wanna go to school” behavior was related to feeling sort of yucky. It is the usual—cough and goo everywhere. Though she got very upset after falling asleep, kicking and screaming at the bed in frustration over not feeling well. This is usually reserved for an upset tummy. But that appears to be ok today, so who knows?
Friday, October 06, 2006
Ava is completely obsessed with dragons. She is dying to know what they are, see one, read about one, anything. I keep telling her as much as I know, and promising that we will go to the library, but we have not had a spare moment to get there this week. She must ask me 40 times a day what a dragon is. I have started the narrative each time with “well, a dragon is a mythical creature…” Tonight, she asked me what a mythical creature is, and if a zebra was one. (How random, since we have not discussed zebras in a long time). So, I began to tackle that question. I pondered it a bit, since saying “it is a creature from a myth” would really be circumventing the question, and then I said that it was a creature that only existed in stories, because so few people had ever seen a mythical creature, and so all we have are the stories that those people have told about them a long time ago. She was satisfied, and I was pleased that I could get away with not squashing the hope that there really might be dragons and fairies and unicorns and all of that. That is the best part of childhood. We have also discussed fairies to quite an extent, thanks to some stationary from Grandma (thank you, Grandma), and the other day she asked me what a goblin was. That one stumped me, because I really don’t know what they are, exactly.
We went to Octoberfest at Whiteface Mountain last weekend, and that was great. I went alone with the kids, which made it rather exhausting, but it was nice for Ava to see the mountain again – gearing her up for ski season. We went on rides, she rode the ponies, Carter rode the ponies, we pet the animals, had a snack, watched an oompahpah band, went on the gondola (a hit with Carter), rode the ponies again, then went to the main tent to dance to a band that was the most amazing mix of genres ever. It was basically an ooompahpah band that mated with a ska/reggae/rock/gaelic/folk band. They were fabulous. Ava danced with a friend from school, and we had a great time. Carter was nearly catatonic at that point, so we finally went home and collapsed into bed.
Last night we had swim class again. Carter was mellower, easier to maneuver, but Ava was cold and did not want to get in. She is so in love with her purple bathing suit that she will not wear her wetsuit. I finally asked her if she knew what a wetsuit was for, and when she looked at me quizzically I told her. Upon learning that it was for staying warm, she had a change of heart and promised that she would wear it on Tuesday. We will see. If she does not start getting in the water, I will take her somewhere for private lessons or take her to open swim and just let her splash around when I am in with Carter. Frankly, that might work better anyway, because the class is large and even if she does comply with the getting wet part she still does an awful lot of sitting on the side of the pool waiting for her turn. And she did an awful lot of learning to swim over the summer. It is not like she needs swim classes. She needs to have fun, and if they are not fun, well then there is no point. As she put it herself: “But I already know how to do that…”
It looks like my courses are going to be very hard. This is good. My peers include an awful lot of physicians and pharmacists. Also good. I think I may be going to bed at 7 with the kids and getting up at 3 to work.
Life is very very full right now. Ava is getting a run for her money, and is probably right on the cusp of doing too much (part of the swim issue too, I would think). My goal is to keep our afternoons as free and as quiet as possible.
We went to Octoberfest at Whiteface Mountain last weekend, and that was great. I went alone with the kids, which made it rather exhausting, but it was nice for Ava to see the mountain again – gearing her up for ski season. We went on rides, she rode the ponies, Carter rode the ponies, we pet the animals, had a snack, watched an oompahpah band, went on the gondola (a hit with Carter), rode the ponies again, then went to the main tent to dance to a band that was the most amazing mix of genres ever. It was basically an ooompahpah band that mated with a ska/reggae/rock/gaelic/folk band. They were fabulous. Ava danced with a friend from school, and we had a great time. Carter was nearly catatonic at that point, so we finally went home and collapsed into bed.
Last night we had swim class again. Carter was mellower, easier to maneuver, but Ava was cold and did not want to get in. She is so in love with her purple bathing suit that she will not wear her wetsuit. I finally asked her if she knew what a wetsuit was for, and when she looked at me quizzically I told her. Upon learning that it was for staying warm, she had a change of heart and promised that she would wear it on Tuesday. We will see. If she does not start getting in the water, I will take her somewhere for private lessons or take her to open swim and just let her splash around when I am in with Carter. Frankly, that might work better anyway, because the class is large and even if she does comply with the getting wet part she still does an awful lot of sitting on the side of the pool waiting for her turn. And she did an awful lot of learning to swim over the summer. It is not like she needs swim classes. She needs to have fun, and if they are not fun, well then there is no point. As she put it herself: “But I already know how to do that…”
It looks like my courses are going to be very hard. This is good. My peers include an awful lot of physicians and pharmacists. Also good. I think I may be going to bed at 7 with the kids and getting up at 3 to work.
Life is very very full right now. Ava is getting a run for her money, and is probably right on the cusp of doing too much (part of the swim issue too, I would think). My goal is to keep our afternoons as free and as quiet as possible.
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Carter’s fever broke during the night—it was basically an eight-hour flu. It was REALLY high at one point though—very close to 104, which is so radically different from Ava. Her highest temp, once, was 102.3. I was mentally preparing to go to the ER at 11 PM when his underarm temperature read 101.9, and that is (on average) 2 degrees lower than a rectal temp. When I moved him, he screamed. He just hurt. But then at 1 AM, I woke up, felt him, and he was cool as a cucumber. It was bizarre.
Ava has a cold too. She has had it for a while, and it is in the lingering phase. The “my child may look sick, but really, she is not contagious even though she clearly needs to blow her nose’ phase. But is has lodged itself in her throat, and her voice is being affected. In a moment of careless verbiage I said to her “you are losing your voice, Ava.” Her face lost all traces of animation as her mouth gaped, her eyes stared and her hand slowly drifted to her throat, and she slowly said “I am losing my voice? Why?” I quickly realized my mistake and tried to undo the damage caused by allowing my daughter to think that she was never going to talk again.
Carter is scheduled to go to the pediatric dentist in Vermont so that they can look at the missing enamel on his front tooth. Presumably they are going to look at it and say “he is missing the enamel on his front tooth, and we need to fill it in. Can you come back in 2 weeks?” At least it will be taken care of relatively soon.
He fell asleep last night without nursing. He stopped, stared at the ceiling and blew raspberries for a half hour while I rocked him until he was blowing them in his sleep. He still is not speaking in English, but is rather effective in communicating in his own language. One of the cutest things he does is to widen his eyes, open his mouth a little and jut his lower jaw out a bit as he raises his eyebrows and says eeeeehhhhh!, which translates to “would you get a load of this!”. He understands everything we say to him, and I learned the hard way not to ask him if he wanted to go swimming 2 hours before the first class was scheduled to begin. He went straight to the sliding glass door, gesturing vehemently toward the lake, and lost his mind when I said no, not yet.
Fortunately, swim class started last night. Carter goes from 5:30 to 6 with me while Ava waits patiently on the side of the pool with a life jacket on, and then she has her class with the teacher. She was very patient while I was wrestling with Carter during his class, and I tried to alleviate some of the boredom by playing with her during the free play time (we squirted water at each other, and Carter thought that was a riot). Swimming with Carter is like swimming with an octopus. He wants to be set free, which is out of the question. His favorite part is being tossed way up high, and climbing out along the wall. However, when Ava is in her class, he is miserable. He just wants to get back in. I am not sure what I am going to do with him, because I obviously have to be there while she is swimming. I just might end up back in the water. Fabulous. But Ava did really well, until she got cold and ditched the jumping part. They all line up and each one gets to jump in to the teacher, and Ava decided that she did not want to stick around for that. Later, in the car, she asked me why they had jumping in the class. I told her it was to practice jumping, and because it was fun. Her response was “but I already know how to jump.” I almost told her that such logic was sure to get her in trouble in the future, a la her mother who got detention in fifth grade for not doing her long division homework for the very same reason. But instead I laughed and reminded her that it was also for fun. If she decides to bail on long division homework because she already knows how to do it, more power to her.
I think school is going well. I can only assume so, since she wakes up every day and asks which school she is going to. Tomorrow they have school pictures. Amazing. She is getting a school picture. I am still in shock. I guess I did not think that they had pictures for little ones. Or I forgot. It is so ‘big girl-ish.”
And my school has officially begun. After a month of panicking because I had not received anything from London, a very nice, very British email came my way, welcoming me to the program, and letting me know that my course materials were on their way. Phew. I am only taking two courses, and honestly, I forget which two. I know I am doing the preliminary epidemiology class, but I cannot remember if the other one was statistics or another core course. I think it was statistics. There is no end to my pleasure at this new challenge. Finally, I feel like I am directing my brain in the right direction. Clearly mothering is a brain challenge, and very much the ‘right direction’, but in a drastically different way. There are whole sections of my grey matter just dying to be utilized, and in my humble opinion, I think that can only have positive ramifications for the kids and my ability to steer them through life. And it also offers a connection with the rest of the world, something often hard to find in this area.
We went to the blessing of the animals today at St Agnes. I am unclear as to what made me think that bringing both kids and a 13-year-old incontinent dog all the way to Lake Placid so that I could nearly lose track of them in the chaos of 100 dogs and 200 elementary school-age kids was a good idea, but I did it. I guess I figured Rose deserved it. Fortunately, Peter walked up from the office to help out. It was almost as difficult as explaining to Ava what a blessing was. That led to a discussion of St Francis, which led to a discussion about St. Nicholas and his connection to Santa Claus, and their connection to Christmas and Jesus, which of course looped back to St Francis, and somehow I managed to bring everything together into one tidy, relatively logical explanation of God. Sort of. It passed the time in the car nicely though.
The other day, after Carter fell asleep, I let Ava come out into the living room with me (a treat, since she usually has to go to bed at that point), and I pulled out the map of the world. She has been bugging me about where things are, and it has been a while since I last had it out, so I thought that would be a good time. When I brought it out, she got very serious, and said “now, where is Mexico?” (based on her knowledge that Monarchs migrate to Mexico) and then she said “I know this is China, and I know this is Florida, and what is this again?”
“Africa”
“Oh. Where is Kenya?”
“Here”
“Where is Alaska?”
“All the way over here”
“And what is this?”
“Russia”
“Russia. Hmmm. And this?”
“Brazil, South America.”
And on and on and on. I must get this child a globe.
Ava has a cold too. She has had it for a while, and it is in the lingering phase. The “my child may look sick, but really, she is not contagious even though she clearly needs to blow her nose’ phase. But is has lodged itself in her throat, and her voice is being affected. In a moment of careless verbiage I said to her “you are losing your voice, Ava.” Her face lost all traces of animation as her mouth gaped, her eyes stared and her hand slowly drifted to her throat, and she slowly said “I am losing my voice? Why?” I quickly realized my mistake and tried to undo the damage caused by allowing my daughter to think that she was never going to talk again.
Carter is scheduled to go to the pediatric dentist in Vermont so that they can look at the missing enamel on his front tooth. Presumably they are going to look at it and say “he is missing the enamel on his front tooth, and we need to fill it in. Can you come back in 2 weeks?” At least it will be taken care of relatively soon.
He fell asleep last night without nursing. He stopped, stared at the ceiling and blew raspberries for a half hour while I rocked him until he was blowing them in his sleep. He still is not speaking in English, but is rather effective in communicating in his own language. One of the cutest things he does is to widen his eyes, open his mouth a little and jut his lower jaw out a bit as he raises his eyebrows and says eeeeehhhhh!, which translates to “would you get a load of this!”. He understands everything we say to him, and I learned the hard way not to ask him if he wanted to go swimming 2 hours before the first class was scheduled to begin. He went straight to the sliding glass door, gesturing vehemently toward the lake, and lost his mind when I said no, not yet.
Fortunately, swim class started last night. Carter goes from 5:30 to 6 with me while Ava waits patiently on the side of the pool with a life jacket on, and then she has her class with the teacher. She was very patient while I was wrestling with Carter during his class, and I tried to alleviate some of the boredom by playing with her during the free play time (we squirted water at each other, and Carter thought that was a riot). Swimming with Carter is like swimming with an octopus. He wants to be set free, which is out of the question. His favorite part is being tossed way up high, and climbing out along the wall. However, when Ava is in her class, he is miserable. He just wants to get back in. I am not sure what I am going to do with him, because I obviously have to be there while she is swimming. I just might end up back in the water. Fabulous. But Ava did really well, until she got cold and ditched the jumping part. They all line up and each one gets to jump in to the teacher, and Ava decided that she did not want to stick around for that. Later, in the car, she asked me why they had jumping in the class. I told her it was to practice jumping, and because it was fun. Her response was “but I already know how to jump.” I almost told her that such logic was sure to get her in trouble in the future, a la her mother who got detention in fifth grade for not doing her long division homework for the very same reason. But instead I laughed and reminded her that it was also for fun. If she decides to bail on long division homework because she already knows how to do it, more power to her.
I think school is going well. I can only assume so, since she wakes up every day and asks which school she is going to. Tomorrow they have school pictures. Amazing. She is getting a school picture. I am still in shock. I guess I did not think that they had pictures for little ones. Or I forgot. It is so ‘big girl-ish.”
And my school has officially begun. After a month of panicking because I had not received anything from London, a very nice, very British email came my way, welcoming me to the program, and letting me know that my course materials were on their way. Phew. I am only taking two courses, and honestly, I forget which two. I know I am doing the preliminary epidemiology class, but I cannot remember if the other one was statistics or another core course. I think it was statistics. There is no end to my pleasure at this new challenge. Finally, I feel like I am directing my brain in the right direction. Clearly mothering is a brain challenge, and very much the ‘right direction’, but in a drastically different way. There are whole sections of my grey matter just dying to be utilized, and in my humble opinion, I think that can only have positive ramifications for the kids and my ability to steer them through life. And it also offers a connection with the rest of the world, something often hard to find in this area.
We went to the blessing of the animals today at St Agnes. I am unclear as to what made me think that bringing both kids and a 13-year-old incontinent dog all the way to Lake Placid so that I could nearly lose track of them in the chaos of 100 dogs and 200 elementary school-age kids was a good idea, but I did it. I guess I figured Rose deserved it. Fortunately, Peter walked up from the office to help out. It was almost as difficult as explaining to Ava what a blessing was. That led to a discussion of St Francis, which led to a discussion about St. Nicholas and his connection to Santa Claus, and their connection to Christmas and Jesus, which of course looped back to St Francis, and somehow I managed to bring everything together into one tidy, relatively logical explanation of God. Sort of. It passed the time in the car nicely though.
The other day, after Carter fell asleep, I let Ava come out into the living room with me (a treat, since she usually has to go to bed at that point), and I pulled out the map of the world. She has been bugging me about where things are, and it has been a while since I last had it out, so I thought that would be a good time. When I brought it out, she got very serious, and said “now, where is Mexico?” (based on her knowledge that Monarchs migrate to Mexico) and then she said “I know this is China, and I know this is Florida, and what is this again?”
“Africa”
“Oh. Where is Kenya?”
“Here”
“Where is Alaska?”
“All the way over here”
“And what is this?”
“Russia”
“Russia. Hmmm. And this?”
“Brazil, South America.”
And on and on and on. I must get this child a globe.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
carter is sick. 103.4 degrees. and then 102.9 after tylenol. but he still has a great attitude, the little guy! it is incredible--he obviously feels like doody, but can still muster a smile and blow raspberries on my belly. he has finally fallen asleep after 4 hours of struggling to do so, and i have rushed out here to brush my teeth (floss too), grab a snack, a glass of water and some chocolate before he wakes up again.
yes, i am eating after i brushed my teeth.
it promises to be a long night.
yes, i am eating after i brushed my teeth.
it promises to be a long night.
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