some days it's just worth being there:
me (walking into the house): Hello the house!
L: Daddy!
K: Daddy! Guess what?!?
me (walking into the kitchen): Hey monkeys. What?
K (serious look): Zoey has the amonia.
me (quick glance at M, then averted eyes): Really?
K: Yeah. She's in the hospital. And we're going to draw pictures for her.
L: Yeah, we're going to draw pictures!
ps, happy birthday, sis.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
... sing of good things, not bad...
back story: K has a speaking part in the pre-primary musical this year. She's been in the chorus the last 2 years as a pre-K student, but this year she (and every kindergartener) has a bigger part. L will be supporting her as part of the chorus.
K's part is "woman 2." There are 4 women, all residents of the village. The musical is Stone Soup. and you remember the story. 3 (4?) soldiers are walking through a countryside, on their way... home(?). The local residents are somewhat resentful because these soldiers eat a lot, and so everyone hides their food and tell the soldiers there is nothing to eat. But the soldiers tell the country people that this isn't a problem because they can just make soup out of a stone. The country folk are intrigued (and skeptical, if 5yos can pull off skeptical), and hang around to watch while the soldiers boil water and add a bit of salt and pepper and discuss how wonderful their soup is going to be. The soldiers occasionally mention that, as good as this soup is, it would be even better if they had an onion/carrot/greens/ham/noodles/MSG/etc. And the people get involved and bring out their hidden food to add to the soup and in the end everyone has some great soup for dinner. In other words, it's your typical topical allegory for these troubled times.
And having a speaking part is a big deal because you have to memorize lines.
But this didn't end up being a problem. K quickly learned her various lines (and so did L learn K's lines), and she can spew speak them on command, though if she's interrupted or distracted, she tends to need to start again from the beginning. Which could make for some interesting theater, if this happens on show night.
I don't have a video, but the general effect is something like:
"IsentthemouttopickblueberriessoIcanmakeapieHeretheycomenow."
(slight pause for other lines)
"Iknowwheretherearesomesweetonions."
(another slight pause for other lines)
"YesLetssetatablefitforthesoupandeveryonecaneat!"
(applause)
And it's that "applause" bit where M and I come in.
We've been encouraging and watching her practice, and some times L, if she's not interrupted or otherwise runs into a hitch, will sing/sign one or two of the songs that the chorus does in support of the main plot (and I use that term loosely).
At some point not long ago, once M and I realized that both K and L seemed to have their responsibilities well in hand, we started to mix things up a bit, and one particular evening we pressed the girls to do their parts for us, and when K stood in the center of the kitchen to start we hooted and hollered with wild enthusiasm. Which put an expression on her face that was well worth any amount of problems we might have caused.
K: No! I'm not supposed to wave or say hello when I come out.
M&me: We know that. But *we* can. We can make as much noise as we want.
me: Yip! Yip! Yip!!!!
M: Rah! Rah! Rah rah!!!
K: Mommy! Daddy!
M&me: Ok, go on.
K: IsentthemouttopickblueberriessoIcanmakeapieHeretheycomenow.
M&me: Yahoo!! RahYipRahRah!!!
K (disgusted look, overlaid with concern that we might actually DO this during the show): Stop it.
M&me: Ok, go on.
L (comes out)
K&L: Walking, walking, our journey is so slow, walking, walking, we still have far to go...
M&me: YipyipyipYahoo!! RahYipRahRah!!!
L (collapses in embarassment)
K (starting to look annoyed. And possibly beginning to understand that this whole parent/child thing could have some serious downsides): Daddy! Mommy!
M&m (collapse in merriment. Parenting life is good at this moment!)
It made for a very enjoyable meal time. I can hardly wait for opening night!
And let me know if you're anywhere near Chief Sealth High School auditorium on April 3, because we know some of the actors and may be able to find you a ticket!
K's part is "woman 2." There are 4 women, all residents of the village. The musical is Stone Soup. and you remember the story. 3 (4?) soldiers are walking through a countryside, on their way... home(?). The local residents are somewhat resentful because these soldiers eat a lot, and so everyone hides their food and tell the soldiers there is nothing to eat. But the soldiers tell the country people that this isn't a problem because they can just make soup out of a stone. The country folk are intrigued (and skeptical, if 5yos can pull off skeptical), and hang around to watch while the soldiers boil water and add a bit of salt and pepper and discuss how wonderful their soup is going to be. The soldiers occasionally mention that, as good as this soup is, it would be even better if they had an onion/carrot/greens/ham/noodles/MSG/etc. And the people get involved and bring out their hidden food to add to the soup and in the end everyone has some great soup for dinner. In other words, it's your typical topical allegory for these troubled times.
And having a speaking part is a big deal because you have to memorize lines.
But this didn't end up being a problem. K quickly learned her various lines (and so did L learn K's lines), and she can spew speak them on command, though if she's interrupted or distracted, she tends to need to start again from the beginning. Which could make for some interesting theater, if this happens on show night.
I don't have a video, but the general effect is something like:
"IsentthemouttopickblueberriessoIcanmakeapieHeretheycomenow."
(slight pause for other lines)
"Iknowwheretherearesomesweetonions."
(another slight pause for other lines)
"YesLetssetatablefitforthesoupandeveryonecaneat!"
(applause)
And it's that "applause" bit where M and I come in.
We've been encouraging and watching her practice, and some times L, if she's not interrupted or otherwise runs into a hitch, will sing/sign one or two of the songs that the chorus does in support of the main plot (and I use that term loosely).
At some point not long ago, once M and I realized that both K and L seemed to have their responsibilities well in hand, we started to mix things up a bit, and one particular evening we pressed the girls to do their parts for us, and when K stood in the center of the kitchen to start we hooted and hollered with wild enthusiasm. Which put an expression on her face that was well worth any amount of problems we might have caused.
K: No! I'm not supposed to wave or say hello when I come out.
M&me: We know that. But *we* can. We can make as much noise as we want.
me: Yip! Yip! Yip!!!!
M: Rah! Rah! Rah rah!!!
K: Mommy! Daddy!
M&me: Ok, go on.
K: IsentthemouttopickblueberriessoIcanmakeapieHeretheycomenow.
M&me: Yahoo!! RahYipRahRah!!!
K (disgusted look, overlaid with concern that we might actually DO this during the show): Stop it.
M&me: Ok, go on.
L (comes out)
K&L: Walking, walking, our journey is so slow, walking, walking, we still have far to go...
M&me: YipyipyipYahoo!! RahYipRahRah!!!
L (collapses in embarassment)
K (starting to look annoyed. And possibly beginning to understand that this whole parent/child thing could have some serious downsides): Daddy! Mommy!
M&m (collapse in merriment. Parenting life is good at this moment!)
It made for a very enjoyable meal time. I can hardly wait for opening night!
And let me know if you're anywhere near Chief Sealth High School auditorium on April 3, because we know some of the actors and may be able to find you a ticket!
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
definitions: lawn / ecko
It's the return of Double Definition Tuesday*
(day-late, dollar short edition)
----
lawn - verb, to shorted the length of the grass
----
lawn - verb, to shorted the length of the grass
(see also, "mow lawn" - a cutting implement to lawn a yard)
usage:
(outside, soaking in the sunshine of a rare, blue-sky winter day)
usage:
(outside, soaking in the sunshine of a rare, blue-sky winter day)
me: (coming out of the studio where I've been painting): Hey, girls?
K (from somewhere out of sight): Yeah?
L (also out of sight): Yeah?
me: What are you doing?
K: We're helping...
L: Yeah helping...
K: ... mama...
L: ... yeah mama...
K: ... planting...
L: ... planting...
K: .... something...
L: ... yeah, somethings....
me: Ok. M, you guys doing ok?
M (out of sight): Yeah, we're doing fine.
L (coming around side of house): Dada?
me: Yeah?
L (stopping in front of me, intrigued by the paint roller): Well, we tried but it isn't working.
me: Tried what? What isn't working?
L: To lawn. It's not working.
me (???): No?
L: Nope. (pointing to roller) What's that Dada?
me: It's my paint roller. Is there anything I can help with?
L: What?
me: With the... what did you try to do?
L: What?
me: You said it wasn't working, that you tried and it wasn't working.
L (obviously dealing with a dense mind): The mow lawn. We tried to lawn and it wouldn't work.
me: What's wrong with it?
L : Ask mama. (Yelling) Mama?!? It's not working!!!
M (from a distant part of the yard): What?
me (muttering): Exactly!
L: What? What Dada?
me&M (meeting in the yard): Wha..?
L (hands on hips, now forced to deal with 2 dense minds): I told Dada that we tried and it wasn't working.
me (looking at M with a raised eyebrow): Yeah!
L: And that's all I said!
M: Hmm...
me: The lawn.
M: Hmmm...
L (pointing at the push mower): That!
me: Ah. So you tried...
L: I said, we tried to lawn and it's broken. The mow lawn.
M: Ah...
me: ...ah, the mow lawn....
L (skipping away): Yup, it's not working and we going to do it....
me (looking at M): The 'mow lawn.'
M: Right.
me: You tried to 'lawn.'
M: Yeah, what don't you understand?
Ecko - noun, a small noisy lizard frequently seen in Hawaiian homes.
usage:
K: A spider!
me: I'll catch it. Don't worry.
M: Like you caught that cane spider on Maui?
usage:
K: A spider!
me: I'll catch it. Don't worry.
M: Like you caught that cane spider on Maui?
(both of us laughing)
me: Well, those are different!
K: It's crawling!
K: It's crawling!
L: Hey, you 'member that ecko?
me (glancing at M): Echo?
L: Yeah, on... on... where we were staying....
me: On Maui?
L: Yeah, where we were staying on Maui!
me (another glance at M): Really? An echo?
L (adamant): Yes! It was...
M (looking at me): Was what L?
L: Up on the wall! It was doing (makes clucking noises with her mouth).
K: That lizard?
L (finally someone who understands!): Yeah!
M: Oh, the gecko?
L: It runned down the wall and ate bugs!
me: Yeah, they're good at that. They're good. They eat bad things like mosquitos. We like them.
L: And they eat... spiders?
me: Well... I don't know...
K: Not that cane spider!
M (laughing): No, not that cane spider!
me: The walls were bare in that place. (glancing at L) And we did have some high volume commentary. I think there was an echo.
L: Yeah, and it runned after the spiders!
K: It's still crawling!!
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
... don't change a hair for me...
... a few pictures of me with 2 of my 3 favorite valentines...
1/8/12
6/19/11
11/13/09
12/19/07
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
... oh, give me a home...
Last night was a special night for K and me. We finished a chapter book together.
Seriously!
A bit of background: I've written before about just how important reading is to me, and has been since I was a little kid. Some of my first memories are of sitting in our Puunene living room, being read to. Mom in the middle on the couch, with Kim on one side and me on the other (Karol was, I believe, a bit too young at this point). Mom (and Dad) read to us often. I loved being read to, and was impatient to learn to read myself. We didn't have TV at that point, and I can remember both my parents sitting in armchairs in the evening, reading.
(When I consider the logistics of this - the children were still awake and yet they were reading? - it seems improbable. They probably weren't reading much, if my own experience is any indication!)
Anyway, books are good, books are important, books are your friends! (Hi librarian Mom!)
So we've always read to the girls, from early early on. Some of my favorite early memories of time spent with the girls is reading to them as they were swaddled and nestled against me, less than a year old....
And now K is reading herself. And it's an amazing and exciting thing to see.
She's also getting more interested in longer stories, and so we borrowed Little House in the Big Woods from a friend, and started it last week. And she's been loving it. LOVING it! It's taken precedence over Belle Stories, which is saying something. We've done a chapter here, a part of a chapter there.
L is less interested, but we manage to arrange things so that we do L-level books (Where the Wild Things Are, Night Pirates....) and then she either snuggles against me and falls asleep, or M takes her to her bed and lies next to her until she goes to sleep, while K and I read a chapter.
This has been working well, as we've begun letting K stay up a bit later than her sister. Otherwise, K wakes up early, and wakes up L, and everyone has not quite as wonderful a day as they might otherwise have.
So, we are 3 chapters from the end, and K is very excited about the coming chapter because we've looked ahead and seen that a boy gets stung by yellow jackets and is all swollen and gets packed in mud and wrapped in an old sheet. And we don't know what the details are, beyond this, but it's fascinating and compelling and she wants to know what happened!
I've been using Little House as a motivator. If we get done with bath in time.... if you're in jammies and with teeth brushed...., and it's worked well. K is snuggled in against me well before her sister is even up from her bath. And we read a bit, then switch to L's books, then back to Little House after M takes L to bed. And it seems like it's forever before we can start reading again, but then we read some more!
And we finish the chapter, and I look at the clock and it isn't yet quite 7.30p so I tell K we can do one more if she goes to bed right after that and she nods excitedly and snuggles in closer, and I remember what it's like to be captivated by a story and want to keep reading but at the same time not want it to end, and I feel like this is one of those moments when something special is getting transmitted on from one generation to the next. Truly.
We read the chapter, skipping a section on harvesting wheat. (One thing I've learned, reading this with K, is that there's no reason to make her listen to a long passage on how Pa takes care of his gun, or how Ma makes cheese - so we have an agreement that if something is boring, she lets me know, and I skip ahead.) We read about how Ma set a huge meal out for the threshers. (K has several times over the course of the book said "That sounds really good" when there's a description of a meal - pumpkin pie, dried berry pie, wild honey, johnny cake, venison....)
And then there's just one chapter left. And how can I possibly make her go to bed with just one chapter left?!? Simple - I can't. So I don't.
I lean over close to her and whisper, "I do this sometimes. I stay up too late finishing a book. But then the next day I'm tired and I have to remember that I'm tired because I wanted to read. So if you're ok being tired tomorrow, and will behave, we can read this last chapter."
And K nods quickly and adds "Yeah, yeah! And ask Mitzi for the next book!"
So we're co-conspirators, sharing this decision, sharing the import and repercussions of it. Understanding that we're making a choice together. And loving every moment.
We read it. And it's a chapter about how winter is coming, the leaves are changing and the weather getting colder and Pa goes out to shoot a deer to get some fresh meat but comes home without any, and that never happens, but the next evening he takes his girls on his lap and tells them how he'd seen first a huge buck, then a extra-huge bear, and then a doe and a yearling fawn, and how each time he hadn't wanted to shoot them. And the girls say "that's ok, we'll eat bread and butter" and "I'm glad you didn't shoot them." And then Laura and her sister fall asleep with Pa playing his fiddle and Ma knitting a sock next to the fire. And Pa is playing Auld Lang Syne and Laura wants to know what that means and when he tells her it's "the long ago old time" she thinks how "now is now" and that that's good. She's cozy and happy and in the moment.
And I kiss K and take her to bed and tuck her in and kiss her one more time and go downstairs knowing I've just had a very special moment with my oldest daughter, glad now is now.
* a couple of things to note:
* a couple of things to note:
- I've never read any of the Little House books, so that helps keep me engaged. I'm as surprised by turns of events as K is. Sometimes (it feels) more so than she.
- K doesn't seem too terribly thrown by the descriptions of hunting/pig butchering/panther attacking/hide-tanning (spanking). In fact, I've been a bit surprised that she's accepted it as willingly as she has. I'm sure she's processing it, the notion that to eat meat, you have to kill an animal, but she's working it out rather than simply reacting (the exception so far: last night when reading a section on making cheese, when it described that it was necessary to kill a calf to get rennit from it's stomach (K: "What's a calf?" me (knowing she knows, but obviously the context has thrown her off): "A baby cow." K: "Oh, no, that's not right!") - so I skipped a good part of that bit.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
... slip, sliding away...
Last week Seattle was "pounded" by a snowstorm (and subsequent ice storm) that dropped upwards of 4-6 inches of white on the city. As you can imagine, if you're from around here, things quickly slid to a halt. (And if you're not from around here, and imagine that 4 inches of snow isn't really that much, you're right, but this is Seattle so everyone freaks out when it does anything other than rain (we even have "sunshine slowdowns" in traffic, when the sun manages to come out), so it was SNOWPOCALYPSE 2012!
What this meant, among other things, is that the girls were out of school for 3 of the 4 days that were scheduled (Monday was Martin Luther King's Birthday), and that in turn meant that parents all over the region were driven crazy by their snowbound children. Including parents in our neighborhood and more specifically, in our house.
I knew the storm was coming (they'd been forecasting it in some for for 10-12 hours months) and had my laptop at home, so I "worked" from home on Weds, the first of the girls' snowdays. This meant that I worked in the morning, while M took the girls out into the arctic conditions.
And then they returned, or M and L returned, and I was suddenly on-call to go be with K on the sledding hill.
When I got there, I found K looking like this:
As soon as I walked up and she saw me, she turned and buried her face in my legs, crying. It turns out that she was having a horrible time, feeling left out. No one was asking her to sled, no one was offering her a ride. And as we only have a snow disc, she was feeling out of the loop.
The thing to realize is this: K had never been sledding. We'd tried a couple days before, when the snow first started, in our yard, but it wasn't enough snow and wasn't enough of a hill to really work. And more importantly, it was with her parents, not with cool neighborhood kids. Who had a sled, not a lame-o snow disc.
I'd brought the snow disc down with me, and I asked if she wanted to ride in it. "With you?" I said yes. She shook her head. I stood with her and we watched a bit, then I asked again and this time she grudgingly agreed to go. And we did. And she almost had fun. A few more turns, and then a neighbor girl asked her if she wanted to ride with her, and K was suddenly in 7th heaven. She was being included, and she was having a blast.
So K sledded and I disced and eventually we headed in for lunch (everyone else was doing the same), and we ate and chilled out for a bit. And then I looked up and saw beautiful light and asked K if I could take a picture of her. And she agreed. And I got these:
And then she took the camera and took this one of me:
And then, after a bit more resting and reading, we all went back out, K&L&M and me. And this time everyone had a great time. There were neighborhood kids to sled with, neighborhood girls riding their own snow discs (which put our disc into a different light!). And K was getting comfortable with the whole idea of careening down a slick hill with little or no control, on her own:
L didn't have any problem doing that, but then she's sort of that kind of girl:
And M didn't have any problem with it either, but then, she and I had had martinis at lunch:
Ultimately, it was a good day for the family. It started out rough, but everyone adjusted and got into the swing of the experience, and we all had fun and crawled into bed that night feeling happily exhausted, with snow still falling, and the promise of another snow day ahead!
What this meant, among other things, is that the girls were out of school for 3 of the 4 days that were scheduled (Monday was Martin Luther King's Birthday), and that in turn meant that parents all over the region were driven crazy by their snowbound children. Including parents in our neighborhood and more specifically, in our house.
I knew the storm was coming (they'd been forecasting it in some for for 10-12 hours months) and had my laptop at home, so I "worked" from home on Weds, the first of the girls' snowdays. This meant that I worked in the morning, while M took the girls out into the arctic conditions.
And then they returned, or M and L returned, and I was suddenly on-call to go be with K on the sledding hill.
When I got there, I found K looking like this:
K, watching neighbors sledding
As soon as I walked up and she saw me, she turned and buried her face in my legs, crying. It turns out that she was having a horrible time, feeling left out. No one was asking her to sled, no one was offering her a ride. And as we only have a snow disc, she was feeling out of the loop.
The thing to realize is this: K had never been sledding. We'd tried a couple days before, when the snow first started, in our yard, but it wasn't enough snow and wasn't enough of a hill to really work. And more importantly, it was with her parents, not with cool neighborhood kids. Who had a sled, not a lame-o snow disc.
I'd brought the snow disc down with me, and I asked if she wanted to ride in it. "With you?" I said yes. She shook her head. I stood with her and we watched a bit, then I asked again and this time she grudgingly agreed to go. And we did. And she almost had fun. A few more turns, and then a neighbor girl asked her if she wanted to ride with her, and K was suddenly in 7th heaven. She was being included, and she was having a blast.
So K sledded and I disced and eventually we headed in for lunch (everyone else was doing the same), and we ate and chilled out for a bit. And then I looked up and saw beautiful light and asked K if I could take a picture of her. And she agreed. And I got these:
Happier now, after a positive experience on the "slopes"
And then she took the camera and took this one of me:
Not bad for a 5 yo!
And then, after a bit more resting and reading, we all went back out, K&L&M and me. And this time everyone had a great time. There were neighborhood kids to sled with, neighborhood girls riding their own snow discs (which put our disc into a different light!). And K was getting comfortable with the whole idea of careening down a slick hill with little or no control, on her own:
L didn't have any problem doing that, but then she's sort of that kind of girl:
And M didn't have any problem with it either, but then, she and I had had martinis at lunch:
M, showing them how it's done!
M&L on an end-of-the-day run
Aftermath
Ultimately, it was a good day for the family. It started out rough, but everyone adjusted and got into the swing of the experience, and we all had fun and crawled into bed that night feeling happily exhausted, with snow still falling, and the promise of another snow day ahead!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
... i held my breath...
It's been a long week, because it started snowing last Saturday (during a race I was doing), and continued, off and on, through Thursday. Monday was a school holiday (Martin Luther King's Birthday), Tuesday they went to school, Weds/Thurs/Fri were snow days. Every day was a long one for the parent left home. (I worked from home on Monday and took the girls sledding - more on that in another post), I went to work Tuesday, worked from home Weds, went to work Thurs and Fri. M went mostly a bit stir-crazy.
M's been taking the girls to swim at her club for several months now, and telling me that they're doing really well. Some Sunday mornings K and L will come back excited to tell me that they swam to their mom, or jumped from the side of the pool to a noodle, or dove down to the last step to get a swim toy. M too has been keeping me posted on progress, but I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, until this weekend.
But we all went to the club on Sunday and I got to witness the swimming. And I was impressed.
The last time I saw the girls swim, they were clinging to us, insisting on holding on, maybe grabbing one stroke as they crossed a 2-foot gap between one of us and the wall. On Sunday I watched them both jumping off the side of the pool (no noodles), swimming 10 and more feet, diving down (or trying to, in the case of L, our resident cork). It was impressive. So much so that I took several videos, only one of which I'll inflict on you.
And so much so that a woman there with her own 2 children asked me how long the girls had been swimming and how they'd learned. I told her that M had been doing a lot of work with them, and that they'd also started watching a mermaid show (which I'm convinced encouraged them to start putting their heads under water in the bathtub). The show itself is dreck, but if it contributed to their comfort in the water, then I'm willing to put up with it. Even though it's no Saddle Club....
M's been taking the girls to swim at her club for several months now, and telling me that they're doing really well. Some Sunday mornings K and L will come back excited to tell me that they swam to their mom, or jumped from the side of the pool to a noodle, or dove down to the last step to get a swim toy. M too has been keeping me posted on progress, but I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, until this weekend.
But we all went to the club on Sunday and I got to witness the swimming. And I was impressed.
The last time I saw the girls swim, they were clinging to us, insisting on holding on, maybe grabbing one stroke as they crossed a 2-foot gap between one of us and the wall. On Sunday I watched them both jumping off the side of the pool (no noodles), swimming 10 and more feet, diving down (or trying to, in the case of L, our resident cork). It was impressive. So much so that I took several videos, only one of which I'll inflict on you.
And so much so that a woman there with her own 2 children asked me how long the girls had been swimming and how they'd learned. I told her that M had been doing a lot of work with them, and that they'd also started watching a mermaid show (which I'm convinced encouraged them to start putting their heads under water in the bathtub). The show itself is dreck, but if it contributed to their comfort in the water, then I'm willing to put up with it. Even though it's no Saddle Club....
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