Zadie and I went to the shopping center by our house to buy a lottery ticket (blame Sweetie) and get an ice cream cone each. I finished mine and decided we would walk home while Zadie finished hers. Just as we were leaving the parking lot, Zadie said "siren." I said, "Oh you hear sirens? Mama hears them too. Do you also hear the helicopter?"
I wasn't really thinking anything was amiss, even as the sirens got closer and closer. Sirens go down Folsom Boulevard by our house all the time. And there's a freeway very nearby -- helicopters circle that regularly. So even as they got almost to us, I still thought nothing of it.
But then I heard an engine running curiously high. I looked behind me and saw a sporty blue Ford going about 80 down the street towards us. I pulled Zadie's stroller up onto the lawn we were next to on instinct, then watched as the Ford tried to turn the corner in front of us. And failed. We heard a huge crash, and almost instantly, about twenty cop cars pulled up, slammed on the brakes, and cops started getting out and running into people's backyards. I saw a K9 unit get the dog out. Then nothing much happened for a few minutes. I thought it might be safe to get a little closer.
Then every cop on the street shouldered a shotgun. I backed off two houses and got behind a car. More cops came, including two undercovers and two more K9s. From where we were, we couldn't figure out what was going on. After everything seemed to die down a bit, I finally went the long way around back to our house.
I checked back in with Sweetie, who had just come from the other side of the scene, and decided to check it out from there, too. From there, I saw what had happened -- the car had crashed into a house. Luckily, the owner wasn't home. My neighbor is friends with him and said he frequently sits on the porch and has a glass of wine.
I also found out (all hearsay) that they took the guy away in an ambulance with his leg all bound up, that the police found a big bag of money, and that he initially jumped one fence, only to find that in the backyard was a cinderblock noise wall about twelve feet high. So he jumped the fence into the neighbors' backyard and ran into their house. The people inside ran out front and yelled "he's in here, he's in here!" That's where the police got him. The suspicion is that his leg wound was from the K9 unit.
One funny-ish thing was that I was watching as the people in the house next to the corner (the one the guy went into) were getting a Schwan's delivery (groceries). They were talking to the Schwan's guy when the Ford came roaring around the corner and the Schwan's guy got out of the way FAST.
Another funny-ish thing was the woman who pulled up after a few minutes. She got out of her car and started marching toward the scene. Someone asked what she was doing, and she said "he almost hit me on Watt Avenue* and I followed the chase all the way here!" We asked why. She said "Because I'm pissed! And I'm nosy!" and she kept marching.
Two news cameras showed up after a few minutes, but I don't think anyone realized I was an eyewitness, so I just hung back and didn't say anything. Almost everyone else had just wandered over after hearing the commotion. I thought about talking to the cops, but I didn't think I had anything useful to add. "You were chasing him, and he crashed!" I mean, duh.
So that was our big adventure tonight.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Fall fashion
Z has almost no Fall/Winter clothes, so I bought her just a few last weekend. I finally got around to washing them, so we had a fashion show this morning.
Probable Thanksgiving dress:
Autumn colors:
A little mod.
Just a cute close-up.
Sweetie took this of her watching Yo Gabba Gabba. Look how rapt she is!
I made her a new winter hat. I'm going to secure the flower better so it's not so goofy-looking.
Probable Thanksgiving dress:
Autumn colors:
A little mod.
Just a cute close-up.
Sweetie took this of her watching Yo Gabba Gabba. Look how rapt she is!
I made her a new winter hat. I'm going to secure the flower better so it's not so goofy-looking.
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
Zadie had her 18 month checkup
She's in the 95th percentile for height. Check out my tall girl at 33 1/2 inches!
She's in the 90th percentile for head circumference and the 75th percentile for weight. Everything else seems to be in order. At her age, they ask if they're putting two words together yet. Mom was like "She said a five-word sentence to me the other day." She said (and repeated today) "Grandma afraid of a bird?" Earlier today, apparently chatting about our neighbor, she said "Sometimes Dylan says 'no thank you.'" How rad is that?
I've been a slacker with taking pictures lately. Sorry about that. I need to take some more. We just haven't done much since I've been so busy with school. As much as I loved my kayaking class, I didn't get to spend as much time as usual with her last weekend. Tomorrow, I have a baby shower, and I'm absolutely thrilled for the honoree, but that's another couple hours I don't get to spend with her. I sure miss her. Hopefully all these extra plans will slow down soon.
Take care, all.
She's in the 90th percentile for head circumference and the 75th percentile for weight. Everything else seems to be in order. At her age, they ask if they're putting two words together yet. Mom was like "She said a five-word sentence to me the other day." She said (and repeated today) "Grandma afraid of a bird?" Earlier today, apparently chatting about our neighbor, she said "Sometimes Dylan says 'no thank you.'" How rad is that?
I've been a slacker with taking pictures lately. Sorry about that. I need to take some more. We just haven't done much since I've been so busy with school. As much as I loved my kayaking class, I didn't get to spend as much time as usual with her last weekend. Tomorrow, I have a baby shower, and I'm absolutely thrilled for the honoree, but that's another couple hours I don't get to spend with her. I sure miss her. Hopefully all these extra plans will slow down soon.
Take care, all.
Wednesday, September 23, 2009
It was twenty years ago today...
In an odd coincidence, I read two articles today that both began "It was twenty years ago..." The first was in the union newsletter, and it was about the strike in 1989. The second was about Dorothea Puente. In a further coincidence, I was involved, if tangentially, with both events.
My dad was a union rep for many years, and was very involved. In the weeks leading up to the strike, I was at union headquarters filing papers, helping make sandwich runs, and doing little helpful tasks. And when the strike actually happened, I helped organize a walkout of students. We protested outside the school alongside out teachers and booed the scabs who crossed the line.
My mom was a deputy coroner who had seven (if I remember correctly) of the Puente victims as cases. I actually think the first bodies were found in '88, when I was in junior high, but okay, twenty years is close enough. I remember that Mom was on the cover of two magazines -- perhaps Newsweek and US News and World Report? -- in her jumpsuit digging up bodies.
It's a little strange to see these nostalgic*, retrospective articles about a history I can so clearly remember. It doesn't make me feel old. I think that to feel old, there has to be an element of feeling that there's something you've missed or something you should be doing that you aren't. I'm delighted to be thirty-three, delighted with my life. I love my husband, my kid, my house... I'm happy for my relationships with my family and friends. It doesn't even make me feel old to note that this is my tenth year teaching. It makes me feel confident and experienced.
But it is a little disconcerting to see my own personal history as, well, history. I guess it happens to everyone.
*Okay, perhaps the Puente article wasn't exactly nostalgic.
My dad was a union rep for many years, and was very involved. In the weeks leading up to the strike, I was at union headquarters filing papers, helping make sandwich runs, and doing little helpful tasks. And when the strike actually happened, I helped organize a walkout of students. We protested outside the school alongside out teachers and booed the scabs who crossed the line.
My mom was a deputy coroner who had seven (if I remember correctly) of the Puente victims as cases. I actually think the first bodies were found in '88, when I was in junior high, but okay, twenty years is close enough. I remember that Mom was on the cover of two magazines -- perhaps Newsweek and US News and World Report? -- in her jumpsuit digging up bodies.
It's a little strange to see these nostalgic*, retrospective articles about a history I can so clearly remember. It doesn't make me feel old. I think that to feel old, there has to be an element of feeling that there's something you've missed or something you should be doing that you aren't. I'm delighted to be thirty-three, delighted with my life. I love my husband, my kid, my house... I'm happy for my relationships with my family and friends. It doesn't even make me feel old to note that this is my tenth year teaching. It makes me feel confident and experienced.
But it is a little disconcerting to see my own personal history as, well, history. I guess it happens to everyone.
*Okay, perhaps the Puente article wasn't exactly nostalgic.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Dismemberment and a champion for the little guy
We had out first poetry club meeting today and we elected officers. Someone asked what would happen if one of the officers stopped participating. The secretary answered "I don't know. I guess we'd dismember them." My thoughts exactly.
The kid who stormed into my room last week demanding to know whether it was okay for some students to have printed pictures for their illustrated examples of literary terms was apparently not there on his own behalf. I sure seem to remember him saying something to the effect of "...when some people SLAVED for HOURS over their work." I corrected those assignments yesterday -- he had had his friends draw his illustrations for him. They were signed by the artists.
The kid who stormed into my room last week demanding to know whether it was okay for some students to have printed pictures for their illustrated examples of literary terms was apparently not there on his own behalf. I sure seem to remember him saying something to the effect of "...when some people SLAVED for HOURS over their work." I corrected those assignments yesterday -- he had had his friends draw his illustrations for him. They were signed by the artists.
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Kayak class
Well, I had my kayaking class this morning. We spent the first hour or 90 minutes just talking about why we were there, getting out the equipment, examining the differences between the different kinds of kayaks, and learning how to hold the paddle. She told us what kind of activity each kayak was good for, and I had felt pretty sure that I was going to want a sit-on-top like this one:
But when she told us about what this one could do, I started thinking I might actually prefer it:
Still, I knew it would be easier to cart around the first one, and besides, I had had bad luck with a really long racing-type kayak before. The kind I had before was something like this:
But it was really unstable. I capsized it in a very small eddy. Whereas I had tried the big flat sit-on-tops before and found them to be really stable. So despite what she said, I still thought I'd like the sit-on-top best.
We started to paddle around, and I began in a recreational kayak, a short little thing like this:
I did well in it. It was maneuverable and I could keep a decent pace in it. We paddled around for a while and learned the front and back sweep strokes, strokes that help you turn.
Then we pulled off to the side and switched boats. I got in the sit-on-top. It was very stable, somewhat maneuverable, and I didn't mind it. But I didn't love it, either.
We paddled around and learned the forward stroke, the one that helps you, you know, go forward. We also paddled around a little concrete thing and looked at some nature up close. I saw native wild fuschias.
Then we paddled back to a place where we could switch boats again and I got in the ocean kayak. It was less stable when I was sitting in it. I could sort of hula my hips and rock the boat a lot. But at the same time, when I got going forward, it felt as stable as the others to me and it was not only as maneuverable, it was WAY fast. Like, I felt goooood paddling that one. At one point in a little creek, I kept having to slow down to not get ahead of the teacher, and she told me to go ahead and take the lead. Then we all turned around and I was in the back, so I tore ass to get in front again. I really, really had fun in that kayak. And once you have basic sea kayaking skills, you can take trips through the company to Angel Island, around Half Moon Bay, and more. It really sounded fun.
Anyway, the future holds... probably a basic sea kayaking class, and maybe a day trip out with a rented kayak (they gave me a coupon for a free rental with this class). If I really still love it, I just might start looking into buying one. Of course, I' also thinking of buying a new car next year, so I wouldn't want to invest in a rack for this car. Eh, I'm sure I could figure out a way around it.
Anyway, I'm totally jazzed, and both Sweetie and Monkeygirl expressed interest in joining me in a class, which would make my new activity so much better, because I love my peeps and their company. There are classes on the 3rd and 17th of October, folks!
But when she told us about what this one could do, I started thinking I might actually prefer it:
Still, I knew it would be easier to cart around the first one, and besides, I had had bad luck with a really long racing-type kayak before. The kind I had before was something like this:
But it was really unstable. I capsized it in a very small eddy. Whereas I had tried the big flat sit-on-tops before and found them to be really stable. So despite what she said, I still thought I'd like the sit-on-top best.
We started to paddle around, and I began in a recreational kayak, a short little thing like this:
I did well in it. It was maneuverable and I could keep a decent pace in it. We paddled around for a while and learned the front and back sweep strokes, strokes that help you turn.
Then we pulled off to the side and switched boats. I got in the sit-on-top. It was very stable, somewhat maneuverable, and I didn't mind it. But I didn't love it, either.
We paddled around and learned the forward stroke, the one that helps you, you know, go forward. We also paddled around a little concrete thing and looked at some nature up close. I saw native wild fuschias.
Then we paddled back to a place where we could switch boats again and I got in the ocean kayak. It was less stable when I was sitting in it. I could sort of hula my hips and rock the boat a lot. But at the same time, when I got going forward, it felt as stable as the others to me and it was not only as maneuverable, it was WAY fast. Like, I felt goooood paddling that one. At one point in a little creek, I kept having to slow down to not get ahead of the teacher, and she told me to go ahead and take the lead. Then we all turned around and I was in the back, so I tore ass to get in front again. I really, really had fun in that kayak. And once you have basic sea kayaking skills, you can take trips through the company to Angel Island, around Half Moon Bay, and more. It really sounded fun.
Anyway, the future holds... probably a basic sea kayaking class, and maybe a day trip out with a rented kayak (they gave me a coupon for a free rental with this class). If I really still love it, I just might start looking into buying one. Of course, I' also thinking of buying a new car next year, so I wouldn't want to invest in a rack for this car. Eh, I'm sure I could figure out a way around it.
Anyway, I'm totally jazzed, and both Sweetie and Monkeygirl expressed interest in joining me in a class, which would make my new activity so much better, because I love my peeps and their company. There are classes on the 3rd and 17th of October, folks!
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Some Zadie stories and one gross non-Zadie story
Zadie scored the winning point at life today. We were out on the porch talking to some religious proselytizers, and I was being polite, because after all, in their misguided way, they're trying to save me from eternal damnation. Anyway, Zadie is playing with a dinosaur, asking to get down, etc., when she suddenly starts asking for booby. "More booby, more booby, more booby!" and sticking her hand down my shirt. Then she sits up straight and says, in her perfect, patented possessed-by-demons voice, "MORE BOOBY!"
Also today, I was counting out Tupperware containers for my lunches for the week. I counted the bowls first, and I was counting out loud. "One, two, three, four, five." Then I went to get the lids. I only found four. I said "One, two, three, four," and I stopped. Zadie said "five!"
Her musical tastes are expanding. I think I told you that she asked for the Cat Stevens song the other day. Today she asked for "'Oh the water' song." That, I guessed, was Van Morrison's "And it Stoned Me." Rock on, kid.
Okay, here's the grody story. I have been trying to find a new soymilk brand I like ever since VitaSoy stopped selling their stuff. I bought some last week, and there was a bit of a stain around the opening, but it didn't seem to have any leaks or anything, and it smelled fine. So I used it all week on my oatmeal every morning. I thought it tasted a bit sour, but I've known soymilks to have an off taste sometimes, so I just thought it was that brand. Today I bought a different brand and decided to throw the other stuff out. I poured it into the sink and looked down and saw something that looked, oh, rather like a squid, lying there in the sink. I stopped pouring and looked more closely. It was a clump of moldy soymilk goo. I poured more. Several more squids came out. I considered barfing.
And that's all for now! Thanks for reading, folks.
Also today, I was counting out Tupperware containers for my lunches for the week. I counted the bowls first, and I was counting out loud. "One, two, three, four, five." Then I went to get the lids. I only found four. I said "One, two, three, four," and I stopped. Zadie said "five!"
Her musical tastes are expanding. I think I told you that she asked for the Cat Stevens song the other day. Today she asked for "'Oh the water' song." That, I guessed, was Van Morrison's "And it Stoned Me." Rock on, kid.
Okay, here's the grody story. I have been trying to find a new soymilk brand I like ever since VitaSoy stopped selling their stuff. I bought some last week, and there was a bit of a stain around the opening, but it didn't seem to have any leaks or anything, and it smelled fine. So I used it all week on my oatmeal every morning. I thought it tasted a bit sour, but I've known soymilks to have an off taste sometimes, so I just thought it was that brand. Today I bought a different brand and decided to throw the other stuff out. I poured it into the sink and looked down and saw something that looked, oh, rather like a squid, lying there in the sink. I stopped pouring and looked more closely. It was a clump of moldy soymilk goo. I poured more. Several more squids came out. I considered barfing.
And that's all for now! Thanks for reading, folks.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Crazy busy but feeling good
The second week of school just ended. At least so far, I've got good students, good classroom management, and good organization. Let's hope I can keep it up. The hardest part for me is usually keeping up the grading, because I assign a lot of essays, and I really want to read them thoroughly and give them good feedback. But that's a lot of work, so often, I pick a job that will go faster first just to get it out of the way.
We have a cool new grading/attendance program that also allows us to look up all kinds of information about the kids. It's pretty cool. I'm still working out how to use the grading program, but I've mostly got it. (A few differences: my old program let you create an assignment and then copy it to other classes. This one makes you select which classes the assignment applies to as you create it, so if you forget to add other classes, you have to re-do it. Also, the old program let you do things like put in a different number for the total points and the number possible. Like, if you had a quiz with ten questions, you could say the number possible is ten, but then it would multiply it so you could make the quiz worth 50 points. It doesn't seem you can do that with this program.)
The kids aren't exactly whipped into shape yet. A slew of them came in at lunch to ask a question about the assignment they've had a week to complete and which was due after lunch today. Plus, they all got butt-hurt over an instruction that I had clarified in class (I said their terms had to have an illustration, not that they had to draw the illustration. So the ones who slaved over drawings were pissed at the ones who had printed pictures from the internet, even though I had said the latter was okay.)
I am also giving myself a homework assignment. One of their assessments is an oral presentation. Although I frequently demonstrate bits of how the assignment should look, I've decided this year to just go ahead and do a whole one as a demonstration. And since I want it to be pretty good, I actually have to put some work into it. Sometimes I miss doing college-type lit work, so I'm actually looking forward to this in a sick way. My thesis is that Maxine Hong Kingston draws so much attention to the style of narration and the different narrators in order to show that storytelling itself is a form of power. (There's more to it, but anyway...)
The baby is awesome. She's been using "sometimes" correctly, and yesterday she counted to four. She comforted another kid today (who got his head stuck in a railing) by telling him "it's okay." We have taught her to stick her arms out and say "eat brains!"
Last night I took her to see the movie "Up." Okay, let me not sugar-coat it -- I took MYSELF to see "Up," and the baby was with me. She isn't really into movies yet, but I had been dying to see that one. I heard on the radio that they were showing "Up" for free at the drive-in. I kept her up way past her bedtime, but it's not like she had a morning meeting or something. She narrated part of the movie for me: "Clouds! Balloons! Doggie!" It was a really great movie and I recommend it. I had read about a sequence in the beginning that basically spans the old man's life, and the reviewer said that if you didn't shed a tear, you were heartless. Well, I'm not heartless. I hardly ever cry at movies, but I did cry at this.
I have a busy weekend ahead. I make Mom's birthday cake tomorrow, clean the house, do the grocery shopping (I might do that tonight), then have a family party for Mom. I have a little school work to do. Then Sunday is my kayak class and dinner with Mom. Still, it's all fun stuff, so I'm not stressed. Just busy.
Take care!
We have a cool new grading/attendance program that also allows us to look up all kinds of information about the kids. It's pretty cool. I'm still working out how to use the grading program, but I've mostly got it. (A few differences: my old program let you create an assignment and then copy it to other classes. This one makes you select which classes the assignment applies to as you create it, so if you forget to add other classes, you have to re-do it. Also, the old program let you do things like put in a different number for the total points and the number possible. Like, if you had a quiz with ten questions, you could say the number possible is ten, but then it would multiply it so you could make the quiz worth 50 points. It doesn't seem you can do that with this program.)
The kids aren't exactly whipped into shape yet. A slew of them came in at lunch to ask a question about the assignment they've had a week to complete and which was due after lunch today. Plus, they all got butt-hurt over an instruction that I had clarified in class (I said their terms had to have an illustration, not that they had to draw the illustration. So the ones who slaved over drawings were pissed at the ones who had printed pictures from the internet, even though I had said the latter was okay.)
I am also giving myself a homework assignment. One of their assessments is an oral presentation. Although I frequently demonstrate bits of how the assignment should look, I've decided this year to just go ahead and do a whole one as a demonstration. And since I want it to be pretty good, I actually have to put some work into it. Sometimes I miss doing college-type lit work, so I'm actually looking forward to this in a sick way. My thesis is that Maxine Hong Kingston draws so much attention to the style of narration and the different narrators in order to show that storytelling itself is a form of power. (There's more to it, but anyway...)
The baby is awesome. She's been using "sometimes" correctly, and yesterday she counted to four. She comforted another kid today (who got his head stuck in a railing) by telling him "it's okay." We have taught her to stick her arms out and say "eat brains!"
Last night I took her to see the movie "Up." Okay, let me not sugar-coat it -- I took MYSELF to see "Up," and the baby was with me. She isn't really into movies yet, but I had been dying to see that one. I heard on the radio that they were showing "Up" for free at the drive-in. I kept her up way past her bedtime, but it's not like she had a morning meeting or something. She narrated part of the movie for me: "Clouds! Balloons! Doggie!" It was a really great movie and I recommend it. I had read about a sequence in the beginning that basically spans the old man's life, and the reviewer said that if you didn't shed a tear, you were heartless. Well, I'm not heartless. I hardly ever cry at movies, but I did cry at this.
I have a busy weekend ahead. I make Mom's birthday cake tomorrow, clean the house, do the grocery shopping (I might do that tonight), then have a family party for Mom. I have a little school work to do. Then Sunday is my kayak class and dinner with Mom. Still, it's all fun stuff, so I'm not stressed. Just busy.
Take care!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Counting, kayaks, presents, So I Married an Axe Murderer
Zadie can count! Okay, sort of a little. Here's the story from my mom:
"Last week when I brought her diaper cover to your house, I accidentally left her snappy here and it was in the pocket next to the changing tray. When I started to change her diaper today, I laid the snappy next to her and she picked it up. Then she reached over and grabbed the one from the pocket. She held both hands up high, one snappy in each hand, and said 'two snappies.'"
Also, to my own surprise, I'm actually following through on the kayak thing. I signed up for a class on Sunday from 9-1 at Lake Natoma. It's an introductory course where they let you try out several different kinds of crafts. I think I have to buy a neoprene shirt first, though. Lord knows when I have time to go to REI. Well, I'll try. I definitely need an introductory course. I have been in a kayak before on several occasions, but most of those occasions were twenty years ago. When I went kayaking about 6 years ago, I found that I have a VERY different center of gravity than I did when I was a lithe 12 year old. I'm looking forward to this course, and if I like it, I will probably take a few more for the practice and instruction before I try to go out on my own. Of course, I also don't have a kayaking partner, so I really can't go out by myself. I'd drown.
I have a friend who's having a baby shower in a couple weeks. I like to always get people something off their registry, but I like to get something more personal, too. I love my Moby Wrap, but the thing I bought off the registry is $25, and the Moby has gone up to $40, so I think I might try to get a hand-made ring sling instead. I have a friend who makes them.
Okay, i have to get to bed. As usual, these blog posts will be disjointed and weird until school settles down a little. Speaking of school, I started my Monday quoting "So I Married an Axe Murderer" with a co-worker in the copy room. "Head! Pants! Now!" "Go and cry yourself to sleep on your huge pillow!" "They put something in it that makes you crave it fortnightly." "Woman. Wo-man. Whooaaaa, man.... you stole my heart and my cat." "S-A-TUR-DAY!" "Piper down!" That's such a frickin' great movie. I've had worse Monday mornings...
Edited to make it clear that I wasn't quoting movies all by myself.
"Last week when I brought her diaper cover to your house, I accidentally left her snappy here and it was in the pocket next to the changing tray. When I started to change her diaper today, I laid the snappy next to her and she picked it up. Then she reached over and grabbed the one from the pocket. She held both hands up high, one snappy in each hand, and said 'two snappies.'"
Also, to my own surprise, I'm actually following through on the kayak thing. I signed up for a class on Sunday from 9-1 at Lake Natoma. It's an introductory course where they let you try out several different kinds of crafts. I think I have to buy a neoprene shirt first, though. Lord knows when I have time to go to REI. Well, I'll try. I definitely need an introductory course. I have been in a kayak before on several occasions, but most of those occasions were twenty years ago. When I went kayaking about 6 years ago, I found that I have a VERY different center of gravity than I did when I was a lithe 12 year old. I'm looking forward to this course, and if I like it, I will probably take a few more for the practice and instruction before I try to go out on my own. Of course, I also don't have a kayaking partner, so I really can't go out by myself. I'd drown.
I have a friend who's having a baby shower in a couple weeks. I like to always get people something off their registry, but I like to get something more personal, too. I love my Moby Wrap, but the thing I bought off the registry is $25, and the Moby has gone up to $40, so I think I might try to get a hand-made ring sling instead. I have a friend who makes them.
Okay, i have to get to bed. As usual, these blog posts will be disjointed and weird until school settles down a little. Speaking of school, I started my Monday quoting "So I Married an Axe Murderer" with a co-worker in the copy room. "Head! Pants! Now!" "Go and cry yourself to sleep on your huge pillow!" "They put something in it that makes you crave it fortnightly." "Woman. Wo-man. Whooaaaa, man.... you stole my heart and my cat." "S-A-TUR-DAY!" "Piper down!" That's such a frickin' great movie. I've had worse Monday mornings...
Edited to make it clear that I wasn't quoting movies all by myself.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
First week of school and whatnot
Hi all,
Well, I survived the first week of school. I still really need to plan for next week, and just realized I didn't make my copies for Monday morning (whoops!). I have a pretty big class of 9th graders. A few students in there may give me trouble, but I don't foresee anything huge. My college prep 11th graders are an absurdly small class, but seem pretty cool. I have two young ladies with big personalities, so we'll see how that does. I know that with one of them, I heard her name a LOT last year. Hopefully she's grown up some. And then I have two IB 11th grade classes. I'm looking forward to those a lot. Already I've gotten to surprise them, intrigue them, and teach them. It's a fun course.
The interesting thing this week is the case of the mixed-up Carloses. I had a kid come in late on the first day. I asked his name, and he mumbled something. I asked him to repeat it, and he was silent. I asked him again, and he didn't answer. I finally asked in Spanish, and he said "Carlos." I looked down my roster and found a Carlos. I had him sit down and fill out a folder, and on my prep I rushed to the house lead teacher. "Hey, I have a kid named Carlos B who doesn't seem to speak a word of English. Can you help him get a new schedule?" "Sure," he said. "But wait... here on his transcript it says he's special ed, but that his primary language is English." Blah blah, long conversation later, I agree to talk to the special ed teacher. She says he came in and spoke fluent English in her class. I thought maybe he was messing with me.
The next day, he was absent. On the third day, he came in and I tried to speak with him. He couldn't understand a thing. Another student jumped in to help translate. I was confused. But then, AHA! Another kid came in. He was late, and he hadn't been attending my class until Thursday of the first week. But HIS name was Carlos, and as it turned out, he was Carlos B. The Spanish speaker was Carlos O. I had been marking him absent. Ugh. So I went back to the lead teacher and told him about the mix-up, and he laughed and said he understood how that happened. I talked to the special ed teacher and she thought it was funny, because she had actually been thinking of an entirely different kid anyway. Ha ha all around.
Until the next day, when poor Carlos O was STILL in my class. That's right, he's now been in classes for FOUR DAYS where he has no idea what's going on. "Okay," I told the house leader, "it was a funny mix-up, but I STILL have a kid who doesn't speak any English in my class." Hopefully by Monday they can fix it. I even had another kid translate so I could tell him I was sorry for the schedule mix-up and that we were trying to get him the correct classes.
No other big news here. Zadie and I went to Second Saturday tonight and had a good time. We avoided Midtown and just went to Sideshow Studio and Coffeworks. Tom Hutchison was playing acoustic guitar at Coffeeworks, and he was/is in a band I love and used to go see all the time. He played a couple of their songs as well as an X song. Very cool.
I'm a little obsessive about some things, and Zadie's Elmo doll had been driving me nuts -- there was a string hanging out of his foot. I pulled it out, and his leg exploded. Seriously, that one string was holding his entire leg together. So I had to do a quick repair job tonight, because she loves her Elmo doll, and I didn't want to keep it from her for too long.
Her musical tastes are expanding. Now, in addition to Bobby-O, she can request the "Seven Hungry Tigers" song, the ABC song, and Graceland. Plus I'm pretty sure she asked for Cat Stevens' "If you want to sing out." She said "If me song." That's what it has to be, right?
Oh, and I totally got asked when I was due tonight. So I HAVE to get into shape, because ugh. I kind of knew it was going to happen eventually, because I totally do look pregnant. I'm fat right in my midsection. Oh well. It kept me from eating an unnecessary cookie.
Well, I survived the first week of school. I still really need to plan for next week, and just realized I didn't make my copies for Monday morning (whoops!). I have a pretty big class of 9th graders. A few students in there may give me trouble, but I don't foresee anything huge. My college prep 11th graders are an absurdly small class, but seem pretty cool. I have two young ladies with big personalities, so we'll see how that does. I know that with one of them, I heard her name a LOT last year. Hopefully she's grown up some. And then I have two IB 11th grade classes. I'm looking forward to those a lot. Already I've gotten to surprise them, intrigue them, and teach them. It's a fun course.
The interesting thing this week is the case of the mixed-up Carloses. I had a kid come in late on the first day. I asked his name, and he mumbled something. I asked him to repeat it, and he was silent. I asked him again, and he didn't answer. I finally asked in Spanish, and he said "Carlos." I looked down my roster and found a Carlos. I had him sit down and fill out a folder, and on my prep I rushed to the house lead teacher. "Hey, I have a kid named Carlos B who doesn't seem to speak a word of English. Can you help him get a new schedule?" "Sure," he said. "But wait... here on his transcript it says he's special ed, but that his primary language is English." Blah blah, long conversation later, I agree to talk to the special ed teacher. She says he came in and spoke fluent English in her class. I thought maybe he was messing with me.
The next day, he was absent. On the third day, he came in and I tried to speak with him. He couldn't understand a thing. Another student jumped in to help translate. I was confused. But then, AHA! Another kid came in. He was late, and he hadn't been attending my class until Thursday of the first week. But HIS name was Carlos, and as it turned out, he was Carlos B. The Spanish speaker was Carlos O. I had been marking him absent. Ugh. So I went back to the lead teacher and told him about the mix-up, and he laughed and said he understood how that happened. I talked to the special ed teacher and she thought it was funny, because she had actually been thinking of an entirely different kid anyway. Ha ha all around.
Until the next day, when poor Carlos O was STILL in my class. That's right, he's now been in classes for FOUR DAYS where he has no idea what's going on. "Okay," I told the house leader, "it was a funny mix-up, but I STILL have a kid who doesn't speak any English in my class." Hopefully by Monday they can fix it. I even had another kid translate so I could tell him I was sorry for the schedule mix-up and that we were trying to get him the correct classes.
No other big news here. Zadie and I went to Second Saturday tonight and had a good time. We avoided Midtown and just went to Sideshow Studio and Coffeworks. Tom Hutchison was playing acoustic guitar at Coffeeworks, and he was/is in a band I love and used to go see all the time. He played a couple of their songs as well as an X song. Very cool.
I'm a little obsessive about some things, and Zadie's Elmo doll had been driving me nuts -- there was a string hanging out of his foot. I pulled it out, and his leg exploded. Seriously, that one string was holding his entire leg together. So I had to do a quick repair job tonight, because she loves her Elmo doll, and I didn't want to keep it from her for too long.
Her musical tastes are expanding. Now, in addition to Bobby-O, she can request the "Seven Hungry Tigers" song, the ABC song, and Graceland. Plus I'm pretty sure she asked for Cat Stevens' "If you want to sing out." She said "If me song." That's what it has to be, right?
Oh, and I totally got asked when I was due tonight. So I HAVE to get into shape, because ugh. I kind of knew it was going to happen eventually, because I totally do look pregnant. I'm fat right in my midsection. Oh well. It kept me from eating an unnecessary cookie.
Wednesday, September 09, 2009
Dinosaur vs. Robot and more
My little O-bot the Robot was playing with the kid down the street again tonight. They played with tree sap, hid and sought, ran and fell down, and played with sticks. Then I said "Oh, Zadie, I know a game you can play with Dylan. Can you be a robot?" She did robot arms and noises for everyone, and I said "Dylan, can you be a robot, too?" He said "No; I'm a dinosaur." All three grown-ups were like "Sweet! Low-budget Japanese film!" So they played Dinosaur vs. Robot for a minute.
Dylan has been taught to say "No, thank you" if he doesn't want something. He says "No, thank you" to Zadie a lot when she tries to give him rocks, hug him, etc. Tonight she was a little bummed that he didn't want her rock, so she came to me. I said "Dylan doesn't want it, but he was very polite and nice to say 'no, thank you,' wasn't he?" She said "No, hank you." Well, I forgot all about it until we went in to brush her teeth. She has never liked getting her teeth brushed, and hates it even more right now because her teeth hurt. I raised the toothbrush to her mouth and she said "No, thank you." Good try, kid.
I'm back at school. So far, so good. I have a few kids that may challenge me behaviorally, but we're off to a good start so far. I am, as usual, struggling with some beginning-of-year weirdness. For example, our book order hasn't come in yet, so I don't have enough books to start teaching my honors classes. And the copies of the 9th grade stuff isn't in yet. And the writing assessments aren't here yet. But that's all, I think.
I'm still really unhappy with my weight and still haven't done anything about it. Monkeygirl asked if we could be gym buddies, and although I haven't approached her about it yet, I have an idea. Instead of having a weight-loss goal, I'd like to have a fitness goal. I hate running, but maybe we could get ready for a fun run in the spring. I also love the idea of doing the kayak leg of the Eppie's Great Race triathlon. I looked into it, and there are nearby classes that are relatively affordable. I could start by taking some introductory kayak classes, then rent a kayak, and if I wanted to, then I could buy my own (or ask for it as a group gift from everyone for Christmas, I suppose). You can rent kayaks for Eppie's, too. I don't know -- it's just a thought. But I like the idea of having a fitness goal.
I think Sweetie has H1N1. No, I'm serious. He came down with a terrible flu last night, and I have read that the regular flu is not circulating yet, so if you have the flu, it's probably the swine flu. I'm worried about him, naturally, but it's pretty rare for otherwise healthy adults to die of swine flu. Plus, he's playing his game right now and he went to work today, so he can't be THAT sick. But I told him not to kiss the baby. As a wee thing, she may in fact be vulnerable to it, so I'm hoping she doesn't get it. So far, knock wood, Sweetie's the only one to fall ill.
Dylan has been taught to say "No, thank you" if he doesn't want something. He says "No, thank you" to Zadie a lot when she tries to give him rocks, hug him, etc. Tonight she was a little bummed that he didn't want her rock, so she came to me. I said "Dylan doesn't want it, but he was very polite and nice to say 'no, thank you,' wasn't he?" She said "No, hank you." Well, I forgot all about it until we went in to brush her teeth. She has never liked getting her teeth brushed, and hates it even more right now because her teeth hurt. I raised the toothbrush to her mouth and she said "No, thank you." Good try, kid.
I'm back at school. So far, so good. I have a few kids that may challenge me behaviorally, but we're off to a good start so far. I am, as usual, struggling with some beginning-of-year weirdness. For example, our book order hasn't come in yet, so I don't have enough books to start teaching my honors classes. And the copies of the 9th grade stuff isn't in yet. And the writing assessments aren't here yet. But that's all, I think.
I'm still really unhappy with my weight and still haven't done anything about it. Monkeygirl asked if we could be gym buddies, and although I haven't approached her about it yet, I have an idea. Instead of having a weight-loss goal, I'd like to have a fitness goal. I hate running, but maybe we could get ready for a fun run in the spring. I also love the idea of doing the kayak leg of the Eppie's Great Race triathlon. I looked into it, and there are nearby classes that are relatively affordable. I could start by taking some introductory kayak classes, then rent a kayak, and if I wanted to, then I could buy my own (or ask for it as a group gift from everyone for Christmas, I suppose). You can rent kayaks for Eppie's, too. I don't know -- it's just a thought. But I like the idea of having a fitness goal.
I think Sweetie has H1N1. No, I'm serious. He came down with a terrible flu last night, and I have read that the regular flu is not circulating yet, so if you have the flu, it's probably the swine flu. I'm worried about him, naturally, but it's pretty rare for otherwise healthy adults to die of swine flu. Plus, he's playing his game right now and he went to work today, so he can't be THAT sick. But I told him not to kiss the baby. As a wee thing, she may in fact be vulnerable to it, so I'm hoping she doesn't get it. So far, knock wood, Sweetie's the only one to fall ill.
Tuesday, September 08, 2009
The bedroom makeover -- finally!
I finally got the pillow shams about a week ago, and I put them on right away, but I've been lazy about taking and posting pictures.
Here is before:
Here is after!
Here is before:
Here is after!
Sunday, September 06, 2009
Books
It's been kind of a disappointing summer, reading-wise. I loved "The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao." I enjoyed "The Year of Living Biblically." I liked Marjane Satrapi's "Chicken With Plums." And of course, I liked "The House of the Spirits." But that's it. Nothing blew me away.
I remember a year when I read Nick Hornby's "About a Boy," Michael Chabon's "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay," Zadie Smith's "White Teeth," and Jonathan Safran Foer's "Everything is Illuminated." My mind just got blown over and over with good literature. But I'm not finding that recently. So tell me -- what can I read that's out recently that will blow my little mind? I know I don't have a ton of time, what with the baby and school starting, but I usually can read a few pages a night if nothing else. I'm dying for something really good.
I remember a year when I read Nick Hornby's "About a Boy," Michael Chabon's "The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Klay," Zadie Smith's "White Teeth," and Jonathan Safran Foer's "Everything is Illuminated." My mind just got blown over and over with good literature. But I'm not finding that recently. So tell me -- what can I read that's out recently that will blow my little mind? I know I don't have a ton of time, what with the baby and school starting, but I usually can read a few pages a night if nothing else. I'm dying for something really good.
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Two videos
Possibly my favorite yet. She woke up this morning and the first thing she told me was that she was a baby robot, so I taught her to do robot arms.
Wednesday, September 02, 2009
This is the story I told Zadie yesterday. (Sorry, it's long.)
Once upon a time in the land of Sijngahi, there was a beautiful princess named Azadeh. She had hair as copper as a shiny penny, and she loved music more than anything else in the world. The king and queen, her parents, loved her very much, but, as parents can be, they were a little clueless. One day, they made a decision, and they began planning a huge feast for everyone in the land. They printed up banns and sent them out by courier to every tiny cottage on every last hill. What they did not do was tell Azadeh of their plans.
Princess Azadeh was walking through the forest one day when she came upon a band playing rock and roll. The singer was banging his head. The guitarist had his tongue out and his brow furrowed. The drummer was awash in sweat, and the bassist had his eyes squeezed shut. Although she tried to get their attention, it was as if they couldn’t even see her.
She went on until she saw another band. She recognized the lyrics as Yeats’ “Wild Swans at Coole,” but as long as she watched the band, they all just gazed at their shoes and never looked up at her even once.
She came upon another band, this one rather different than the others. There was a DJ spinning records and an MC spitting rhymes. She also tried to get their attention, but the bass was so loud, they couldn’t hear her.
She went further into the forest, following the sounds of a single flute. There, she came upon an old, old man. “Excuse me,” she said. He stopped playing right away. “Yes? What can I do for you?” “Well, I’ve been walking in the forest,” said Azadeh, “and I have seen many bands practicing furiously; so furiously, in fact, that they don’t even seem to see me. Can you tell me why everyone is suddenly practicing so hard? “
“You mean you don’t know?” asked the old man. “Why, it’s for the feast, of course! There is going to be a battle of the bands, and the winner will get the beautiful Princess Azadeh as his bride. I hear she has hair as copper as a new penny.” At this, he winked slightly.
“Are you practicing for the battle of the bands?” she asked timidly.
He laughed. “No, dearest. I’m far too old. I just play for the love of music.”
“Thank you,” she said. “By the way, what is your name?”
“My real name is Ian Anderson, but it’s easy to lose your name. Most people think of me as Jethro Tull.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll remember your kindness.” She turned and walked back to the path.
She walked all over the land that day, fuming at her parents and sizing up the bands playing all around. There were bands of every variety, and she enjoyed the music, but she wasn’t ready to marry. Perhaps she would have to have a talk with her parents. Or perhaps there was another way.
Princess Azadeh wrapped a scarf around her coppery hair and went to a music store. There, she bought a purple flying V guitar and a “teach yourself to play guitar” DVD. There were only two weeks until the feast, but Princess Azadeh had confidence, resources, and free time. She was sure she could do it.
Back at the castle, Princess Azadeh breezed by her parents and headed to her tower. She set to work at making it soundproof with egg-crate foam. Then she started working day and night at teaching herself guitar. She learned the pentatonic scale. She learned the blue notes. She learned hammer-ons. She learned to finger-pick. She went back to the music store and bought a capo and a bottle-neck. She learned to use wah-wah. She learned to use a talk-box like Peter Frampton. She studied Clapton and Hendrix. And when she felt confident in her skills, she started writing her own songs, songs about freedom and taking charge of one’s own life. She put the finishing touches on her song for the battle of the bands just before midnight the day before the feast.
That day, she prepared just as she would for any party. She wore a fancy dress, brushed her coppery hair, and put on her princess tiara. But she did do one thing differently: she concealed under her dress another outfit and put a hat under her throne.
Before the music, they ate all Azadeh’s favorite foods. There was sushi, eggs, waffles, falafel, hummus, peanut butter, cookies, raisins, quesadillas, blueberries, and much more. When they finished eating, the king took great pride in announcing the musical portion of the afternoon.
The battle of the bands was impressive. There was no doubt that the finest talent in the land was on display that day. There was music in every genre. There were hard rockers and soft crooners. There was art rock, prog rock, and rap rock. There was soul and R&B and hip-hop. Princess Azadeh almost forgot her plan and how angry she was at her parents because she was enjoying the music so much. But she didn’t forget entirely. Her number was 32. As the thirty-first act went on, she excused herself from the table, grabbing her hat. She hurried to her tower, whipped off her dress, and put on her hat. She grabbed her flying V and practically flew back downstairs.
They announced the band name she had given – Zadie. She played her song and the crowd went wild. Afterwards, she wanted to hurry back to her room, but everyone she passed wanted to shake her hand. Finally she made it back and changed clothes again and got back to the table.
“Darling!” Her mother nudged her. “You missed the best act! Her name was Zadie. I wish you could have seen her.”
“Oh, I heard it, Mom.” Azadeh replied. “And you’re right: it was the best performance yet.”
The performances wore on into the night, all different and all wonderful, but none as good as Azadeh’s. The judges, chosen from among the people of the village, agreed. When the winner was announced, everyone looked around for Zadie. But no one stepped up. Finally Princess Azadeh stood and cleared her throat.
The crowd quieted, and she spoke. “My parents wanted this to be a surprise. As you all know, the winner of the battle of the bands was supposed to win my hand in marriage. But none of you will win that privilege.” The crowd murmured to one another. She went on. “I entered the contest myself, under a fake name. That name was Zadie. I won the contest. Mom, Dad, in my opinion, that means I also win the freedom to choose who I marry. And I’m not ready yet. I want to practice my music, and someday when I meet someone I love, then I will get married.”
Her parents looked at one another and quickly agreed. They announced their decision to the disappointed musicians. But Azadeh quickly added, “I’d like to collaborate with many of you. Add me on Facebook.” That cheered them all up. Ian Anderson caught Azadeh’s eye and gave her another wink. Everyone enjoyed the party until late into the night. And they all lived happily ever after.
Princess Azadeh was walking through the forest one day when she came upon a band playing rock and roll. The singer was banging his head. The guitarist had his tongue out and his brow furrowed. The drummer was awash in sweat, and the bassist had his eyes squeezed shut. Although she tried to get their attention, it was as if they couldn’t even see her.
She went on until she saw another band. She recognized the lyrics as Yeats’ “Wild Swans at Coole,” but as long as she watched the band, they all just gazed at their shoes and never looked up at her even once.
She came upon another band, this one rather different than the others. There was a DJ spinning records and an MC spitting rhymes. She also tried to get their attention, but the bass was so loud, they couldn’t hear her.
She went further into the forest, following the sounds of a single flute. There, she came upon an old, old man. “Excuse me,” she said. He stopped playing right away. “Yes? What can I do for you?” “Well, I’ve been walking in the forest,” said Azadeh, “and I have seen many bands practicing furiously; so furiously, in fact, that they don’t even seem to see me. Can you tell me why everyone is suddenly practicing so hard? “
“You mean you don’t know?” asked the old man. “Why, it’s for the feast, of course! There is going to be a battle of the bands, and the winner will get the beautiful Princess Azadeh as his bride. I hear she has hair as copper as a new penny.” At this, he winked slightly.
“Are you practicing for the battle of the bands?” she asked timidly.
He laughed. “No, dearest. I’m far too old. I just play for the love of music.”
“Thank you,” she said. “By the way, what is your name?”
“My real name is Ian Anderson, but it’s easy to lose your name. Most people think of me as Jethro Tull.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll remember your kindness.” She turned and walked back to the path.
She walked all over the land that day, fuming at her parents and sizing up the bands playing all around. There were bands of every variety, and she enjoyed the music, but she wasn’t ready to marry. Perhaps she would have to have a talk with her parents. Or perhaps there was another way.
Princess Azadeh wrapped a scarf around her coppery hair and went to a music store. There, she bought a purple flying V guitar and a “teach yourself to play guitar” DVD. There were only two weeks until the feast, but Princess Azadeh had confidence, resources, and free time. She was sure she could do it.
Back at the castle, Princess Azadeh breezed by her parents and headed to her tower. She set to work at making it soundproof with egg-crate foam. Then she started working day and night at teaching herself guitar. She learned the pentatonic scale. She learned the blue notes. She learned hammer-ons. She learned to finger-pick. She went back to the music store and bought a capo and a bottle-neck. She learned to use wah-wah. She learned to use a talk-box like Peter Frampton. She studied Clapton and Hendrix. And when she felt confident in her skills, she started writing her own songs, songs about freedom and taking charge of one’s own life. She put the finishing touches on her song for the battle of the bands just before midnight the day before the feast.
That day, she prepared just as she would for any party. She wore a fancy dress, brushed her coppery hair, and put on her princess tiara. But she did do one thing differently: she concealed under her dress another outfit and put a hat under her throne.
Before the music, they ate all Azadeh’s favorite foods. There was sushi, eggs, waffles, falafel, hummus, peanut butter, cookies, raisins, quesadillas, blueberries, and much more. When they finished eating, the king took great pride in announcing the musical portion of the afternoon.
The battle of the bands was impressive. There was no doubt that the finest talent in the land was on display that day. There was music in every genre. There were hard rockers and soft crooners. There was art rock, prog rock, and rap rock. There was soul and R&B and hip-hop. Princess Azadeh almost forgot her plan and how angry she was at her parents because she was enjoying the music so much. But she didn’t forget entirely. Her number was 32. As the thirty-first act went on, she excused herself from the table, grabbing her hat. She hurried to her tower, whipped off her dress, and put on her hat. She grabbed her flying V and practically flew back downstairs.
They announced the band name she had given – Zadie. She played her song and the crowd went wild. Afterwards, she wanted to hurry back to her room, but everyone she passed wanted to shake her hand. Finally she made it back and changed clothes again and got back to the table.
“Darling!” Her mother nudged her. “You missed the best act! Her name was Zadie. I wish you could have seen her.”
“Oh, I heard it, Mom.” Azadeh replied. “And you’re right: it was the best performance yet.”
The performances wore on into the night, all different and all wonderful, but none as good as Azadeh’s. The judges, chosen from among the people of the village, agreed. When the winner was announced, everyone looked around for Zadie. But no one stepped up. Finally Princess Azadeh stood and cleared her throat.
The crowd quieted, and she spoke. “My parents wanted this to be a surprise. As you all know, the winner of the battle of the bands was supposed to win my hand in marriage. But none of you will win that privilege.” The crowd murmured to one another. She went on. “I entered the contest myself, under a fake name. That name was Zadie. I won the contest. Mom, Dad, in my opinion, that means I also win the freedom to choose who I marry. And I’m not ready yet. I want to practice my music, and someday when I meet someone I love, then I will get married.”
Her parents looked at one another and quickly agreed. They announced their decision to the disappointed musicians. But Azadeh quickly added, “I’d like to collaborate with many of you. Add me on Facebook.” That cheered them all up. Ian Anderson caught Azadeh’s eye and gave her another wink. Everyone enjoyed the party until late into the night. And they all lived happily ever after.
Today's Zadie picture brought to you by 1977
IMG_0543
Originally uploaded by countmockula
Yep, it's me.
Zadie has begun to ask to do things "by self." I feel we're in a new stage. It's just amazing to watch her become more independent.
Today at the park she drove, making "vroom vroom" and "beep beep" sounds.
She sat in the big girl swing.
Then she begged me to hang from the bar, and to my amazement she hung for a long time, then wanted to do it four or five more times! I told her she was strong and she said "Zadie strong!"
Then she successfully climbed up this thing for the first time! (Only three rungs up, but still...)
Tuesday, September 01, 2009
GROOOOOOSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!
Read no further if you are easily grossed out.
This morning, Z found a piece of my breast pump and was stuffing it in her mouth. She was sitting on the bed and I was folding clothes right there. I heard a weird noise, but I looked at her and nothing seemed amiss.
I was keeping a careful eye on her, because the piece was too large to choke on, but it was still making me a little nervous. She shoved it way down into her mouth and gagged a little. That explained the other weird noise. "Zadie," I said calmly, "please don't gag yourself." I decided not to freak out, because then she REALLY enjoys doing stuff. She did it twice more, and the second time, just as I expected, she erupted in a shower of Cheerios covered in banana goo. I quickly swept her off the (new, expensive) bedspread, took the plastic thing, and hurried back with a towel to clean stuff up.
While I started cleaning, she saw what apparently looked like a perfectly good Cheerio. Guess what happened. I actually made her cry, because I freaked out and yelled "NO!"
We are both going to have a nice, long, shower next.
This morning, Z found a piece of my breast pump and was stuffing it in her mouth. She was sitting on the bed and I was folding clothes right there. I heard a weird noise, but I looked at her and nothing seemed amiss.
I was keeping a careful eye on her, because the piece was too large to choke on, but it was still making me a little nervous. She shoved it way down into her mouth and gagged a little. That explained the other weird noise. "Zadie," I said calmly, "please don't gag yourself." I decided not to freak out, because then she REALLY enjoys doing stuff. She did it twice more, and the second time, just as I expected, she erupted in a shower of Cheerios covered in banana goo. I quickly swept her off the (new, expensive) bedspread, took the plastic thing, and hurried back with a towel to clean stuff up.
While I started cleaning, she saw what apparently looked like a perfectly good Cheerio. Guess what happened. I actually made her cry, because I freaked out and yelled "NO!"
We are both going to have a nice, long, shower next.
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