I have a sick pumpkin.

On Christmas eve, Z woke up with a cough -- a really seal-barky croup-y cough. But she was happy and energetic, and with some crankiness aside, she didn't seem sick. The cough also didn't reappear during the day.

The next night, she coughed just a little, but yesterday all day she was kind of low-key, and she didn't eat much dinner (with rare exception, this kid eats more than I do).

Last night she woke up in the night again and crawled into our bed. She had a stuffy nose and a little cough, so I elected not to take her to the gym. She stayed with Sweetie and apparently cuddled the whole time I was gone (about 2 hours). That is VERY unusual for her. Still, she ate a lot for lunch (more edamame than you or I could probably lift), and seemed happy.

I got her to take a nap, and when we woke up, she was REALLY warm. We took her temperature, and it was over 103. I gave her some Tylenol, waited 5 minutes, and took it again. It had dropped below 103 (which is the magic "call the doctor" number), but I called anyway.

The advice was the usual "rest and fluids," so that's what we're doing. I got her favorite -- pink Gatorade -- and picked up dinner while I was out. She ate well again, and is now running around in her holiday dress.

I was thanking my lucky stars recently that she so rarely gets sick. I guess I should add a thanks for the fact that when she is, she's still pretty pleasant and doesn't seem to suffer too much.

It's funny, though; I was so excited about having a week off with no obligations that I literally spent part of my morning looking up snow play areas, finding the hours for stores where I knew I could get a cheap snow suit, thinking of where we could go in a day trip to the Bay Area, considering whether the zoo or Bounce Town would be more fun... And of course, most of those things are probably out now. I'm a little sad that one of those rare times when I have some free time to spend with her, we really can't do anything fun. Ah well.


Sickypants on Christmas morning.

And Merry Christmas 2

IMG_2697
Originally uploaded by countmockula

(This is our living room by 8:30. It does not include presents she received yesterday.)

Merry Christmas 1

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Originally uploaded by countmockula

Hide and seek

Hide and seek
Originally uploaded by countmockula

Last night we had a few friends over, and all together, there were five kids. One was 8, two were five, one is just two months older than Zadie, and then there was my girl.

She was a very gracious hostess, asking people "May I take your coat?" when prompted, and actually putting the coats on the bed as I asked. WIth the other kids, she was generous and sharing. When one hurt his foot, she brought out her little Christmas tree to comfort him.

They played monster and chase and "toy parade" and band, and at one point they decided to play hide and seek. They called me to be the seeker, and this is (more or less) what I found.
Perhaps it is extraneous to add that Zadie is not a good hider.

Ice skating

For the first time since our last visit in November, we had a non-rainy day with no obligations. So we went ice skating!!

This is her holding my hand, which is how we went around most of the time.


Then a staff member named Dustin came over and gave us some tips. She followed his advice well, and he took her skating around a couple times.


She really liked it when he went fast!


He had other stuff to do, so we were on our own for a while. I skated backwards while holding her hands, and that worked really well, because I could see who was coming up behind us. Plus, I wasn't going fast enough to knock into anybody behind me. At one point, she fell on her butt, and I said "That's okay, hon. Falling is just a part of learning." She then promptly fell on her butt on purpose five more times. I then explained that falling on accident is part of learning, but falling wasn't actually going to help her learn, just get her butt wet. Around that time, she decided she wanted a break, and there was a vendor selling smoothies(!), shaved ice(!), and some other treats. Zadie LOVES popcorn, so we got a bag and sat down on a bench. She seemed really tired, even crawling up on my lap to snuggle, so I kept asking her if she wanted to go home, but she didn't.



When, after about 30 minutes, she had finished her popcorn, she seemed reluctant to get back on the ice, but she still didn't want to take her skates off and go. I got her to go once more, and I'm so glad I did. I got into position to go backwards, then let her hands go for a second. I was going to grab them again before we went anywhere, but she wanted to be with me, so she took a couple little steps. She had ice skated by herself! I backed up a little and she kept coming. She kind of yelled at me, because what she wanted was for me to pick her up, but then I did that "you can't get me!" thing, and we turned it into a game. She chased me about a third of the way around the rink on two separate occasions.







Incidentally, the skates she had on had double blades, so they do offer more stability than normal ones, but still, I think it's really cool. She was the youngest kid out there by far, and a lot of the older kids were having a much harder time. I was also pleased to note that, although it's been over twenty years since I last ice skated, I'm still pretty competent.

Zany miscellany

Well, here we are, and winter break has arrived! If the blog has been quiet, it's because I've been keeping myself busy with crafting, baking, and other holiday-related stuff.

Zadie has been a lot of fun lately as Christmas approaches. It's really hard for her not to touch the presents, stockings, etc., but if you actually consider how much time we spend here and the number of times she's had to be warned away, she has been pretty cool about it.

She's been having some... I don't know if I'd call it separation anxiety, exactly, but something like that. She has been guilt-tripping me a lot about going to work without her. She was even playing Mommy and Baby with one of her dolls this morning and told her "I love you. But now I'm going away without you. But it's okay, because you love your grandparents." Ugh, it rips my heart out. I got my hair cut today and ran a couple errands, and when I got home, she really wanted to be near me, so as I cooked dinner, she was sitting in front of the fridge playing with alphabet magnets. We had this conversation: "Whoa, I made a long word!" "Whoa, yeah!" "Do you want to know what it says?" "Sure." "It says 'don't go away ever again.'" "Oh. Are you mad at me because I left without you?" "No, but don't go away again."

The other day, she was in the child care center while I went to yoga. She has quite enjoyed the child care center for at least six months, and two of her very favorite kids were there, so when I heard a page come over the sound system, I just assumed it wasn't for me. Another parent went to go find out, and he came back and pointed to me. I rushed in and she was being cradled by a boy who's about 8, and her two friends were huddled around her. She wasn't crying, but it was obvious she had been. When she saw me, she stood up and looked at me. I said "What's wrong, Sweetie? Did you bonk your head? Are you feeling sick?" She burst into sobs and , through tears, said "I just wanted you, mommy!" I held her and stayed with her, and her little girlfriends offered to hold her, too, and she felt better by the time we left, fifteen minutes or so later.* Anyway, it's kind of odd, because she's never really been like that. I mean, clingy to me, sure, but not emotionally ravaged like that. She's usually so independent. I think it's because she sometimes doesn't get enough sleep and that leaves her a little ragged. She fights sleep SO HARD.

Okay, on to funnier stuff. She has decided that she loves T. Rexes above all other dinosaurs, and she pretends to be a baby T Rex while I'm the mommy. She growls and waves her arms and stomps. It's adorable.

The other day we went to a pot luck/movie night at school. She absolutely loves my students and they her. I could have made a decision not to let my personal and professional lives cross paths so much, but I actually think it's really good for everyone. The kids see me as human, Zadie gets to interact with bright, motivated kids of all different backgrounds and ethnicities, and I enjoy getting to have her with me while I do some chaperoning. Anyway, they love to ply her with sweets, put bows in her hair, chase her, play hide and seek, sing her songs with ukulele accompaniment, and they get a total kick out of the goofy stuff she says. For example, recently she told me she had a baby named "Aaann shaa laa daa." "Enchilada?" I asked, incredulously. "Yeah." So now, many of her princesses, babies, etc. are called either Enchila or Enchilada. One of my students pretended to have a baby in his tummy (I think it was actually a 2-liter of soda), and he asked her what he should name it. Guess what she answered? He could hardly stop laughing.

A few weeks ago, Mom showed me a painting Zadie had done at ArtBeast. It had a swath of green at the bottom, a swath of blue across the top, and a yellow circle to the side. I said "Oh! I'll bet I know what this is! It's grass, and sky, and the sun!" She looked at me absolutely witheringly and said "It's abstwact."

She's been super-sweet lately, often telling me she loves me, that I'm cute, etc. She also thanks me spontaneously for things. Tonight, (feeling clingy again) she asked to be in the sling while I baked. I obliged, and we made cookies and peanut brittle. When I put her to bed, I said "Thanks for being my kitchen helper." She replied, "Thank you for letting me..." then yawned the biggest yawn. Then she whipped her head toward me and said "I'm not tired!"

In the car a few days ago, she said "Could you turn some rock and roll on? Because my mommy loves rock and roll." I did, and the song that came on was "Wanted: Dead or Alive" by Bon Jovi. She said, "Yeah, this is a good rock and roll song."

After running an errand, we came home and I saw that I had forgotten to turn the tree lights off. I mentioned it, and she said "Why were you wasting electricity?" (I am SO in trouble in the coming years.)

She's picked up a couple bad habits from the kids at child care. First, she has started dropping "like" into some of her statements. I used to do that a lot, but I think I've toned it down, so I don't think she actually got it from me. Then yesterday, she and Sweetie were having a power struggle over something (she just kept doing the exact opposite of whatever he told her), and ended up in time-out. Red-faced, she yelled at him "You are stupid!" We had a serious talk about that after the time-out was over.

Okay, on to me for a minute! I got a new haircut. I'd take a picture, but I don't feel like putting makeup on, so maybe I'll do it later. Of course, it never looks as good as when the stylist does it, right?

I've been working out on the elliptical machine 5 days a week, but on Sundays I try to do yoga. The teachers alternate, and although both instructors make it a challenging class, one is more yoga-focused, and the other just kicks our asses Pilates-style. It's so hard! We do plank (like the up part of a push-up) for minutes at a time, then transition to our elbows, then back to hands, then back to elbows, then back to hands... with no rest or anything in between. My upper-body strength has always been lacking in comparison to everything else, so that one really kills me. But what cracks me up is that I can see everyone else, and they're shaking and sweating and grunting and taking breaks, so I know they're feeling it too, but then the instructor will say "How's everybody doing, good? Good." And then she goes on. I had a funny thought the other day about that scene in Braveheart where Mel Gibson's being eviscerated. I thought the dude could ask in a chipper voice, "How we doing, good? Good."

Well, my holiday baking is going more or less perfectly. My English toffee did something I'd never seen before (it seemed to separate once I poured it into the jelly roll pan), but it tastes fine. Caramels and brittle are great, cookies are all great, and I've had relatively few hiccups (with maybe the exception of the chocolate chewies that I had only made once before and forgot that you need to pretty much double the cooking time listed in the recipe).

I was trying to let Zadie help with the sugar cookies, and the sprinkle container I gave her wouldn't shake. I gave her one that had bigger holes, and moments later, there was half a bottle of red sprinkles piled on three cookies. I took that sprinkle jar back and addressed the first one, which had four colors in it. I saw that the holes were blocked, so I went to poke them with a skewer and discovered that they were all wet. Yeah -- she had licked them all. I also saw her licking her fingers and touching the cookies, and then she spilled her Jamba Juice on the cookie tray. She also gave all the angels and snowmen eyes and belly buttons. Guess what happened to that tray? Yeah, I baked it and am reserving those mutants for her only.

My crafting, on the other hand, makes me remember why every year I reconsider crafting the next year. Two of my knitting projects came out pretty great, one came out pretty well with a few not-very-noticeable errors, and one came out like someone lacking opposable thumbs had done it. My sewing projects came out pretty well, but the cool part was supposed to be the screen-print. I had actually ordered a new, different screen with a finer mesh to try to make the text come out, and it just didn't work at all. The pictures came out well, but I had more or less ruined three items before I figured out I could just tape over the words and only print the images. And to my mind, the text explained the images, so without the text, it's kind of random. Ah, well.

There's more to do, so I'm off. Take care, and I hope you're enjoying the season.

*Staying in the child care center did allow me to have a hilarious conversation with the kids. One declared that he was "sensitive." When we mentioned that Zadie's whole name was Azadeh Finn, he raved that he LOVED the name Finn. I said that it was after an Irish hero named Finn McCool. I said "I figured that was pretty awesome," and he agreed heartily, saying "Well, it's got COOL right in it!" Then the other boy enthusiastically announced, "I'm Irish!" I asked them all what their favorite subjects were. One said science, another said math, and Zadie's favorite kid answered "recess." The older sister of the pair that Zadie's crazy about is a tiny grammar nazi. Someone said something like "I hit my head and I bleeded," and without hesitation, she interjected, "bled." I actually heard her do something similar a couple times. I like her.

Giving.

There was some, well, healthy competition between the small learning communities at our school regarding the annual canned food drive. We thought we came up with some innovative ways to get cans, and we were sure that with almost 600 cans (representing about 325 students), we were shoo-ins.

Another small learning community came up with 800, and one of the others was actually only 20 cans or so behind us. I can't complain about not winning, though, because our school donated 3,000 cans to the food bank.

The picture is my colleague's pickup truck. About 40% of our donation didn't fit and had to be put into another vehicle.


Every year, we get a notice that the Socks and Undies drive is going on, and at least as far as I know, we've never participated on a school-wide level. Perhaps individuals donated elsewhere, but I don't remember ever seeing a donation box. This year, I'm an SCTA rep for the first time, so I figured I'd try getting a little something together. I was very encouraging in my emails (short of harassing, I think), and one woman asked what our previous record was, so we could break it. I had to answer, "Uh, zero as far as I know." I put a medium-sized box out, and for about a week, there was nothing in it. I didn't check early this week, but I went to pick it up today. Here is what I found:


I know I'm a goober about Christmas anyway, but I got a little verklempt at least twice today, seeing the spirit of giving that people share.

Funny conversations

We had two funny conversations this morning.

First, I was getting ready for work, and I heard Z and Sweetie talking quite a bit. I heard her ask him to change her diaper. When I got done, I greeted her, made us breakfast, did a few things, and went to the living room while she finished eating. After a minute, she yelled, "Mama! I changed my diaper by myself!" I had assumed she was wearing panties, but it sounded ominous, so I asked, "Uh, okay... did you put the wet diaper in the basket?" She said no, and then she came running out with a wet diaper. I said to Sweetie, "I thought I heard her say 'Daddy, change my diaper.'" He replied drily, "Yeah, she says a lot of things."

On the way to Grandma's, she was talking about rainbows and stuff when suddenly she asked why we don't "do booby milk" anymore. I explained that blah blah, it was good for her, but she doesn't need it anymore, and people sometimes do booby milk for longer or shorter periods, and some kids her age still do booby milk, but it's pretty rare. But she pressed it -- why don't WE do it anymore? I thought of an analogy: "It's like wearing underwear on your head. There's nothing wrong with it, and it won't hurt you or anything, but not very many people do it, so people might think it was odd."

The Amazing Kreskin answers.

The answer is... yes.

Did you find raw peanuts for cheap at the new Asian market on Florin?

The answer is... totally.

Did you buy Karo syrup in bulk?

The answer is... 3 dozen.

How many cookies have you made so far this season?

The answer... Hershey's Special Dark Kisses.

What recent innovation revolutionized your peanut blossom cookies?

The answer is... my dad.

For whom is the first batch of peanut brittle reserved?

The answer is... at least four, probably six.

How many more batches of candy will you make?

The answer is... at least two, probably four.

How many more kinds of cookies will you make?

The answer is... a lot.

How much more work is there on your crafting projects?

The answer is... maybe kinda.

Do you bake and craft instead of buying presents because you're cheap?





I don't know. I really enjoy crafting and baking. And unlike a book or iTunes gift card, when I take, say, a plate of peanut brittle to my family gathering on Christmas eve, I know it is going to be enjoyed. And you know, we don't get to go to Oregon to spend time with Sweetie's family at Christmas, but if I send a plate of homemade treats, it just feels more personal, almost like I'm there. Plus, a lot of the recipes I use are family heirlooms in a way. How awesome is it that I can share Grandma's caramels with people who haven't had Grandma actually make them in a decade or more?

But I admit that there's a bit of a cheap factor, too. I mean, I spent a lot on Z's presents -- probably more than is reasonable and more than I intended to, but you know, I found perfect stuff that I know she'll really love, and so... well, there you go. But even if that wasn't so, my discretionary income around the holidays is probably only a couple-hundred dollars, and there are about thirty people legitimately on my list, not to mention the two December birthdays and the birthdays that just passed. If I bought everyone something, it would be a pretty paltry offering. I do buy quite a few gifts, but I also make a lot, and I hope people understand that when I make something for them, I spend hours, rather than knocking out everyone's gift purchases on Amazon in a couple minutes.

I guess that's it... I have a knitting project to finish!

A little early for a decade wrap-up

But I can't help myself.

In how many decades do you get to...

...play in a band,


...buy your first house,


...enjoy a career where you can really make a difference, and that you really love,


...meet your soul mate,


...leave the country for the first time (and to the Virgin Islands, no less!)


...marry the love of your life,


...thereby gaining a whole new family,


...maintain an amazing friendship,


...buy your second house,


...after much trying, get pregnant,


...have it progress with no morning sickness and few troubles until 40-weeks-and-three-days!


...bear the world's most beautiful baby,


...and watch her become one of the most interesting people I've ever met?

Happy Hanukkah

Nah, we didn't convert to Judaism. I just like to expose Z to a variety of ideas. So we made latkes and played virtual dreidel. Anyway, I have long had some sort of mental block about making fried potatoes. I have tried various hash browns, breakfast potatoes, and potato pancakes on several occasions, but I always end up with wet, raw potatoes in the middle and greasy cooked potatoes on the outside. So not only did I carefully follow a recipe, I watched a video!

They. Were. Awesome.

In fact, because of my constant weight-watching, I had determined that I would only eat two, but I had three-and-a-half! They were so darn good. Crispy, not greasy, cooked through, and soft and delicious.

I made a side salad with the famous Paragary's mushroom salad on mixed greens.

I don't really know where to get gelt or anything, so I think that's about the end of our Hanukkah. But I did tell her the story of the Maccabees, so there's that.

Hope you're all well and enjoying the season, whatever you celebrate.

What to do but shake my head.

You may know that I'm not the most... artistic soul. I mean, when it comes to words or whatever, I'm cool, but I've never met a visual art I was at all adept at. Apparently, I sat at the right table tonight at my adult education class (it's required for Zadie's pre-school). I don't know whether the class is normally more, uh, academic than it was tonight -- my mom went to one and the second was cancelled, so this is the first one I've attended -- but tonight was clearly a time-killer.

Here was one table's gingerbread house:


Here was another table:


At first we thought we might actually be better than the table next to us:


But they pulled it together:


Here is ours. I swear none of us was disabled, either physically or mentally:

Stuff, mainly unrelated

Well, I have a mountain of laundry to fold, but I wanted to check in with you, by which I mean, of course, reflect for my own purposes with little consideration given to my audience.

Last night we went on the Sacred Heart Christmas home tour, which is always fun and is a family tradition. Zadie was kind of a butthead for the first two houses, but then we had a talk and she got better. She was particularly interested in some mannequins in one of the houses. I was enchanted by the ideas of "outdoor living" presented by some of the homes. There were many covered decks and pergolas with beautiful outdoor furniture, ceiling fans, fireplaces, pizza ovens... sigh.

Some of the decorations were really eye-catching. One was super-glittery/shimmery/spangly/sparkly and in a very art deco fashion. Another was all made of natural materials, like lilies wired to branches and persimmons piled in vases.

But you know, tonight we decorated our house. There's no theme. Our tree has ballerinas, Alice, G.I. Joes, PowerPuff Girls, Shakespeare, and is topped by Marvin the Martian. It is, as tradition dictates, quite lopsided. The place is lousy with nutcrackers. But you know, it's so pretty I kind of want to cry. And none of those other houses made me feel like that.


Hey, also? We made milkshakes, and I think that is going to have to be a new tradition. I mean, cocoa and cider are awesome, but milkshakes? The bomb!

*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A few days ago, when we were home sick, we walked to Trader Joe's. Zadie loves to push their "customer in training" carts, and I like it, too, because then she's sort of contained. Anyway, the three of us were walking around the aisles, and Sweetie and I were picking things up and putting them in the little cart. At one point, Zadie walked away from the cart, walked straight to a bag of popcorn (one of her favorite treats), and put it in the cart, just as we had been doing. I had an impulse, and I was briefly of two minds. First of all, I am firmly of the belief that my kid is darn cute, and watching her make her little purchase was frickin' adorable. But my parenting impulse was of the "no-no" variety. I was thinking that a responsible parent would set limits. Kids can't just put things in the cart at will. They need to ask, to get permission, to understand that choosing groceries is a grown-up thing. But I suppressed all that and decided not to say anything. There was something I was proud of about her action. I mean, she wasn't being sneaky and she wasn't begging. She was just a part of our family, and our family was out shopping, choosing things to take home. She had agency, and she had power within the family, and she knew her choices were respected. I am cool with that.

I sometimes struggle with parenting. I mean, not just on the days she won't nap. With parenting philosophy. You know, I really like attachment parenting, but I can't get too gung-ho about it -- she LIKED the swing, and I was personally done breastfeeding before she was. I also don't want her to grow up in such a touchy-feely/loving/everything-you-do-is-awesome environment that the first time she stabs someone with a pencil at school, she is surprised by negative reactions to it. Some of the parenting articles I read say you shouldn't tell them to say thank you, or encourage them to express appreciation for presents they don't like. There's this assumption that if you value their real feelings, then they'll develop empathy on their own and want to say thank you sincerely as they grow older. That's awesome, I guess, but kids who are old enough to talk about the indricotherium at the Academy of Sciences are old enough to say thank you, even insincerely.

Anyway, so I read, and I talk to people, and I end up mostly winging it. But on Thursday she got her treat of popcorn because she knew she was part of the family, and today she put laundry in the washer because it was family cleaning day, and she knew she was part of the family. I think we're on the right track.

Fairly Fruitless Morning

Given that just a week ago I was thanking my lucky stars for having things like a car that runs, I hope you'll permit a little griping.

My car's service has been approaching, and it is finally time. I decided to go in early this morning (going on a work day is almost impossible, timing-wise) in the hopes that we could avoid the rush. We didn't. We waited in a line of about twenty cars for twenty minutes, and still no one had even come out to take our information. I backed out and left. I wouldn't mind so much except that the dealership moved from right across the street from my work to the next town over, so we blew a whole hour driving out, waiting, and driving back.

Then we came home to do a bit of cleaning and then were off to soccer. Apparently Z has been better about following her coaches' instructions, but the other kids are still, in general, more likely to be on task and to follow instructions. But it would appear that having two substitute coaches is just the thing to throw all the two- and three-year-olds right off course. I overheard several mommies and daddies whispering things like "I know, honey, but Coach Mary will be back next week. If you don't want to play today, we can go home." Many a reluctant toddler held a sit-in on the tree roots.

Then we went to Costco, which wasn't awful, but I take Zadie mainly because she loves the samples. Here is what was available sample-wise today. A bit of biscotti, a cracker with cheese stuff that she didn't like, a chunk of plain corn tortilla, two kinds of coffee, a medicinal drink, and a 1/2" piece of bacon. Usually she gets five or six big samples of things like spanikopita or burrito bites or tri-tip or corn dogs. She dropped her tortilla chunk, ate the bacon and biscotti, and that was it. Also, they didn't have the sausages we buy, which are WAY cheaper there, so I was hoping we could get them. Oh yeah -- and it is starting to look like this is the second year in a row that I won't be able to find the light clips to hang the Christmas lights.

Then we went to the little Italian grocery center, where there is a pet store, a beauty supply shop, and a dry cleaner. I needed, respectively, cat litter, lip balm, and two items dry cleaned. Unfortunately, the worst radio station in town (Mix 96) was having some sort of promotional thing, so every parking spot was taken. I finally saw a guy pulling out of a spot, so I waited and turned on my signal. The man working at the taco stand stared right at me, pulled out a barrier-thing, and as soon as the guy pulled out of the spot, he plopped the barrier right in the middle of the spot. I left. It took some amount of restraint not to flip him the bird.

Finally we got home and I started my cleaning, much later than usual. While I cleaned, Zadie peed through her clothes twice. I also spent about 20 minutes chasing after puffballs of cat hair to no apparent effect. I moved the furniture a bit to accommodate the Christmas tree and discovered about twenty spots on the floor that appear to have at one point been Jamba Juice, but have now lacquered themselves to the hardwood.

On the bright side, Mom and Boompah were awesome enough to rent a truck and go get Christmas trees, so we should be able to put ours up soon, maybe tonight!

One more thing to do before nap time -- go get groceries. Better clean up the monster and get ready.

Take care, all.

Zadie video

This went on for about 20 minutes. It started when we suggested going to the Seymour Marine Research Center in Santa Cruz. She was, to put it mildly, excited.

How do we teach reading comprehension?

I got smacked in the face with a really hard question this week. "How did you do that?" It was in regards to my making meaning out of an EB White essay. How did I do that? I just did! I don't know how I did. But shit, that's the essence of teaching right there. Have you ever had anyone try to teach you something and say "then you just do it, you know? Just like this..." and then they flip the pan or knit the stitch or do the kick flip or whatever, and they've done it, but you still don't know how? A good teacher wouldn't just be able to do it -- they'd be able to teach you how to do it, too. And I wasn't sure how. I'm still not.

Task analysis is something that comes up a lot in teaching. The idea is that you have to break down a task into its parts. Something that we take for granted, a student may not. An example from my "Exceptional Child" class (special ed) was getting a candy from the machine. For us, we just go do it -- we don't have to think about the instructions. For someone with special needs, you might have to tell them to walk into the room, locate the candy machine, find the candy they want, locate the price, get the change out of their pocket, count out the coins until they have the right amount, put the coins into the machine, locate the number of the candy's slot, punch the number into the machine, get the candy out, and retrieve their change (if any).

The idea of task analysis can be applied to almost anything, from writing a sentence to using the Pythagorean theorem. You really have to break it down, though -- it seems unreal to non-teachers, but many of my kids have to be told to get out a pencil, open the book, etc. That's part of the instructions that I have to remind them about or they won't do it. I actually say "Okay, now get out a new, clean sheet of paper" several times a day.

That's not true of my honors kids, of course. They write down the homework in their planners. They do the reading. They know how to write an essay. They're smart. They're good kids. They're well-versed in the routines. But sometimes when it comes to making meaning, they run into a brick wall. Last year, we read Margaret Atwood's "The Handmaid's Tale." In it, women's choices are taken away and they live in near-slavery. The narrator's voice clearly evokes the pain of those affected. And from that, you could probably tell it was a feminist novel, right? They couldn't. Their minds went, "Women are treated badly, therefore this is an anti-feminist novel." I actually made a flow chart for them that said something like "Is one group oppressed? Yes/no." "If yes, does this seem like a bad thing? Yes/no" "If yes, the author is probably arguing AGAINST oppression."

I think part of it is that literature has been really sidelined in our schools. It's no longer the three Rs, but there's history, science, P.E., art and music (if they're lucky)... In some ways, we've really raised the bar for kids -- they sit for HOURS of tests in Kindergarten. When I was in Kindergarten, I could read, but many of my peers couldn't, and it wasn't a big deal. We had play time and snack time and naps, and stories read to us. Now they sit in a circle and make the sounds on flash cards: "Fff -- aaa -- nn. Fan!" The technical aspects of reading are very much focused on. They learn to read, but do they learn to understand, to appreciate? I don't think so. Knowing what I was asked to teach in 8th grade ("The fat cat sat at a mat. Tam sat at a mat."), I doubt most of the kids are exposed to literature. I read "Frankenstein" in class and "The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy" for fun. These kids read informational writings in class and nothing for fun. Not all of them, of course. I'd say that of all the kids who enter our school from junior high, 85% aren't very good at reading and don't like it. 8% have been taught well by passionate instructors, and another 7% are fired up with their own passion, although a lot of times that's for vampire romances.

At our own school, I really respect my principal and my colleagues, although I disagree with them on one important point: While I do think it's important to get them to read ANYTHING and to teach them to write well enough for college, I also think good literature is important. They'll say dismissive things like "Who reads Shakespeare anymore?" Well, ME! And every English major and probably a lot of humanities and liberal studies majors. And I have many more privileges than my students do -- I am white, solidly middle-class, a native English speaker, and I lived in a relatively safe neighborhood. But I also lived with a single mom, went to one of the worst high schools in town, was a slightly troubled punk rocker, and had terrible grades for the first two years of high school. I don't think anyone would have picked me out of a crowd and said "Yeah, she'll be an English major, get an MFA, win some awards for her poetry, edit two literary journals, and teach honors literature courses." So it peeves me when someone looks at my students and says "It's not like any of these kids are going to be English majors." (Yes, it's an actual quote.) I can only think, why the hell not?

But back to making meaning. Here's what came up the other day. We read an essay by EB White. The conceit is that he's feeling ill, and he is lying in bed surrounded by several books and articles by democrats he admires. He is also thinking of his long-dead beagle, Fred, who used to insist on hanging out in bed with him when he was sick. After describing Fred as hyperbolic, overly dramatic, and adventurous, he writes:

He was a zealot, and I have just been reminded of him by a quote from one of the Democrats sharing my bed--Acheson quoting Brandeis. "The greatest dangers to liberty," said Mr. Brandeis, "lurk in insidious encroachment by men of zeal, well-meaning but without understanding." Fred saw in every bird, every squirrel, every housefly, every rat, every skunk, every porcupine, a security risk and a present danger to his republic.


Now, there's a lot going on in there. The dog is personified. There's repetition, a list that goes on a bit too long, some challenging vocabulary ("insidious encroachment"), and some hyperbole of his own. But it still made perfect sense to me. Fred represents the "men of zeal," and those guys are a danger to liberty. I liked the whole essay, but particularly this. It feels so current and relevant because of things like the Patriot Act and the TSA grope-downs.

The kids didn't see it that way. They saw that Fred represented the Democrats. One thought that the writer was writing using the persona of the president. Some didn't know what to make of it. Nobody at all figured out that Fred was the men of zeal. It may be that they don't know what "zeal" and "zealot" mean, but damn it, they should have looked them up, right?

This is where the question came up. How did I know? And, well, I just knew, you know? I mean, he says Fred is a zealot, and then he throws down the quote about the men of zeal. It would be like if I said "Pop stars are dumb. Britney Spears is a pop star."

One of my kids, bright and cocky, then suggested that I show them how I did it, that I model reading a passage and making meaning out of it. I do this all the time in my remedial ninth grade classes. We talk about the skills of a good reader -- making predictions, visualizing, monitoring and repairing comprehension, etc. Then I'll read them a passage and stop to say "Oh, I wonder if Rodrigo will try to help?" "It seems like Rodrigo and Ana are brother and sister." "Whoops, I was wrong -- now I can see that they're neighbors." "He did try to help! Good, I was right!" "I can picture the frost-covered grass." And so on. But can I do it with more challenging texts and more subtle clues? Or is this my kick-flip, the thing I can do but not teach?

I took today and tomorrow off because I'm really sick. I wasn't going to take time off at all, but my doctor essentially ordered me to. She was printing up a note for work even as I protested that I really couldn't take time off. She looked me in the eye and said, "You are a source of contagion to your co-workers and your kids. Stay home!" So I am. I have a reliable sub, and I know it'll be okay. But come Friday, I'm going back, hopefully feeling better, and I'm going to try out this modeling thing. I think it's going to be a challenge. Teaching kids to make meaning can't be the only thing I teach, and really, you could spend the whole two years of the course trying. But it is probably the most important thing I could teach them, so I'm sure as hell going to give it a shot.

Even at 6:30, she's hysterical

She called for me at 6:30, and she has hardly stopped talking since. We went through about ten dresses trying to find one that was acceptable, and when we did, she had a long, appreciative monologue about it. Something about, "this is my BounceTown dress, and it has a horse on it to show that it is my BounceTown dress, and I share it with all the other girls because I'm nice because you trained me to be nice."

Then we went into the kitchen, where last night I had baked cookies. She wanted a cookie immediately.

Me: I think maybe later.
Z: But cookies seem like a good breakfast.
Me: No, but we'll have one later today.
Z: After breakfast?
Me: More like after lunch.
Z (Thinks for a minute): Can we have lunch instead of breakfast?

All right, off to make the coffee.

Thanksgiving, part 2

Hi RE and Kimberly! I didn't intend to beg for comments, but getting them was lovely.

Zadie looked adorable today, but I forgot to take pictures. Thanksgiving with my family was wonderful -- and they had actually taken some pains to make several dishes vegetarian.

I may have the creeping death that my family has been passing around. It would be hard to argue, at this point, that I don't at least have a cold.

For the record, my sweet potatoes were a hit (although in an attempt to get Z to have at least part of a nap, we were about 15 minutes late, and several people had already gotten a plate by the time I put them out). My aunt Joy said she liked the marshmallow version, but no one else seemed put out. Two of my (young, bachelor) cousins even asked for the recipe, seeming surprised that they were that sweet on their own.

Okay, so that's that. I know people (ahem, Dad) think I'm silly when I complain about not getting enough done, but I'm definitely not getting anything done this vacation. I pretty much took care of Z for three days, exercised, cooked, and ate today, and if I'm reading the old cards correctly, I'm about to spend a couple days nursing a cold of my own.

Enjoy your time off if you have some. Enjoy everything you have to be thankful for.

Yours,
CM

Thanksgiving

I don't know how to do this every year without starting to sound like Ann Landers, but I am truly grateful for all I have, and I have SO MUCH. Did you know I have almost 40 living family members within twenty miles? And both my parents are within two miles? And my husband's family is almost all just one state away. Heck, we can see almost everyone (with the exception of my maternal grandma) without getting groped by TSA.

So yes, I am thankful for family, for my home, for my job, for all the people who are so good to me, for California weather, for fresh food, for a reliable car, for making it through this recession relatively unscathed (we actually both took pay cuts, but his ended as mine started -- that's got to be a blessing, right?), for my wonderful friends, for living in this country, for the good health of almost everyone I know, and for all the little things I don't have to worry about, like heat, electricity, clean water, and so much more.

There went that daily blogging thing

Oh well, I had like one comment in three weeks, so not like you guys were on the edges of your seats. Anyway, I haven't blogged for a couple days 'cause it was early Thanksgiving, then Z wasn't going to sleep readily and blah blah.

Zadie funny of the day: I was in the fabric store and she wanted to be in the wrap (baby carrier thing for hippies). It wraps under her butt, and had apparently gotten a little wedge-i-fied. I was absent-mindedly singing her little things to the tune of "The Little Drummer Boy." It was all just mundane stuff like "I think that you are cute, pa rum pum pum pum." Or "Let's look at Christmas stuff, pa rum pum pum pum." Right on cue, and in tune, Zadie sings "My butt does not feel good, pa rum pum pum pum."

She's been a bit sick, so we haven't left the house much. I've been trying to entertain her with non-TV things, but I'll admit that the kid is awake for like 14 hours a day -- sometimes we revert to video mode. She loves this DVD I got her called "The Little Travelers," about a family who travels the world. In this one, they go to Iran, and the whole thing is narrated by the two daughters, who are 5 and 9. It's super-cute, very kid-friendly, and pretty educational, too. Zadie loves to pretend to be the girls, and she has even asked me if she could be "the little Iranian girl." It's like "Yeah, no problem, babe."

We actually wrote an email to their contact on their web site, and just a few hours later we got a reply (which I think is personal and Sweetie thinks is a form letter).

Anyway, some of the other things we've been doing include learning to finger-crochet (she is not good at this), and sticking labels on everything we own, including one that reads "Daddy." I know she's just memorizing, but now we ask her what the signs say, and she yells "table!" or "vase!" or whatever. As we were winding down last night, I had just one slip of paper left, and I asked her what she wanted it to say. She chose "I love you," and we put that one on her dresser so she could see it.

So, I may have mentioned that at a traditional Thanksgiving table, I sometimes don't have much that I can eat which I also like. Sweet potatoes are covered in marshmallows (which have gelatin), green beans are covered in mushroom soup (which has chicken fat), some mashed potatoes are made with stock... I'm like "I'll have a roll and some salad! Oh, the salad has bacon bits in it? That's cool... I'll have two rolls. I love rolls!" Anyway, I'm subverting the dominant paradigm tomorrow by bringing the sweet potatoes myself. And there shall be no cans involved, as I do not like them. Also? No marshmallows. But my sweet potatoes will rule, because they will be well-seasoned, and if people don't like it, they can eat a dick*. Happy Thanksgiving.

*So I made this ginger syrup which is super-good and Sweetie made a cocktail with it, and I finished it off because he is a lightweight and then I made another one because it was delicious, and although I would consider myself neither drunk nor tipsy, I can acknowledge that I would not normally suggest that anyone in my family eat a dick, because I love them very much. Back to the regularly scheduled giving of thanks tomorrow.

Ah, hardware stores

I love hardware stores. I mean that totally sincerely. I like Home Depot least of all, but I could, if I had nothing else to do, wander around the aisles there for hours. I like the geegaws, I like the cleaning supplies, I like the ideas I gather for projects. I like paint samples. I like latches. I like the chain you can cut off the roll. I like big bins of nails.

Anyway, I have always had a favorite hardware store. As a kid, I liked to go to the one on Stockton Blvd. by Fruitridge. They had a lot of little flashlights and knives by the counter. When I lived downtown, I loved P&M, the one on Broadway with the Jack Nicholson picture in the window that also had a canoe hanging outside for a while. Not only did that one have good tools, they had a ton of weird extraneous things like dental tools.

When I actually moved closer to them, I found myself going to the hardware store around 17th and Broadway. They never made a key that didn't work.

When I moved back to the neighborhood closest to the Fruitridge one, I actually went to Home Depot more often, mainly because we were doing a lot of big projects to the house. But I still went to that Ace, and the bonus was that next door, Manor Drugs was a funky little drugstore.

Now that I'm in East Sac, I go primarily to East Sac Hardware. Forget what you've been told about them being unhelpful: they're grizzled and abrupt, but they help. And they also have a bunch of cool kitchen gadgets and now, stationery! Seriously, what's the way to my heart? Kitchen gadgets and stationery. I like them as much as I like hardware stores, so the combination is really appealing.

But throughout all these years, or at least since I have lived on my own, I have heard that there's an Ace hardware downtown. I'd complain about not being able to find something, and someone would recommend Ace. Unfortunately, there's some sort of Bermuda triangle effect on people's memory about the location. I'd ask where it was, and I was always given vague answers. Literally no one could ever give me cross-streets. I believe I even looked in the phone book once under "Ace," and couldn't find it (it's apparently called Capitol Ace). People would also often include a comment like "if it's still there." I wrote the place off as mythical and never went.

Today I went to East Sac to find a peg to hold up a kitchen shelf. We have no idea how it got lost or where it is, but the effect is that the shelf has been held up by two stacked cans for months. One can is beef broth, which I'll never use, but I keep having to rotate out the second can because I want to use it.

Anyway, the shelf peg I need is called a "KV shelf clip," and they didn't have them at East Sac. But Home Depot's advantage is that they have SO MUCH shelf space. Surely they'd have them. I mean, I've seen similar clips elsewhere, so it must be pretty standard. Nope. I even asked for help, and the girl suggested I try the internet.

I did. They are available, but a bag costs $4 and the shipping is $7. Now, I'm a sucker, but not a one-peg-for-$11 sucker. Leave that for the government. Anyway, I thought I'd call Emigh, which is far but is a cool store. Then I remembered the mythical Ace. With the power of the internet, I found it quickly and called. Not only did they have them, they had them in four different colors. I drove down. Even though it's on "the grid," there was ample free parking. And the place is AWESOME!! They had tools, paint, kitchen gadgets, fancy cleaning products, canning supplies, bicycle parts... I want to go back and just wander the aisles. I ended up buying not just my pegs, but also a Charlie Brown Christmas window cling and a Mrs. Meyer's hand soap.

Ah, well there you go. You knew I was a nerd, but not a hardware store nerd, right? I actually had to explain to Zadie today that in some households, it's the daddies who like to fix stuff! LOL. No offense, Sweetie!

VACATION!!!!

When the superintendent first said he was getting rid of Presidents' Day and making us work the last Friday of the year, but giving us Monday and Tuesday of Thanksgiving week off, I thought it was unnecessary. But you know what? Now that I'm facing nine days off in a row, I think I can totally dig it.

Zadie is having a slumber party and Grandma and Boompah's, and Sweetie and I went to a neighborhood restaurant (where we split something very like a white Russian for dessert), then to the CSUS geology department's rock auction. I'm not really a geology girl, but I could appreciate several things, namely, the prettily polished rocks, the awesome names of some of the items*, and the good people-watching.

Regarding the last, there was a surprising amount of theatricality at the auction. Several people were in tuxedoes, and others were in little black dresses and looked as though they were unused to the idea. One gentleman was actually wearing a top hat, and one young lady clearly had a fall** in her hair of the type actors use in musicals (I kept expecting her to break out into song).

There were also your REI types, your old hippies, a large number of unsightly*** science nerds, and the academics. A few of those big-belt-buckle guys were there, too. It was really a mix.

Then we came home, and, due to my big fat mouth, played the Metallica version of Guitar Hero instead of the normal version. The Metallica version seems designed to give me carpal tunnel syndrome.

I am hoping, both for Zadie's sake, Grandma and Boompah's sake, and my own sake as her primary caregiver tomorrow, that Z has a restful, uninterrupted night's sleep.

*Like "spherulitic tuff."
** They look like the picture below right.

***Okay, I'm being judgmental, but the room seemed pretty heavily weighted towards those who had neither struck gold in the genetics department nor made strides in the hygiene and styling department.

"I'm starving!"

That is becoming one of her most-used phrases. Keep in mind that this kid typically eats like a teenage boy, but she hasn't gained even one single pound in a year. I know I've done this recently, but it just blew my mind again today.

She woke up before 6 am, starving. Sweetie gave her a bowl with Kashi, Cheerios, and raisins, plus a chocolate milk. She asked me for sausage, and I gave her a sausage patty. Later in the morning, she went to Costco with Grandma, where she had several samples (normally enough for lunch -- five or six samples of, say, half a dolma or a big meatball). Then they got home and she had a regular lunch. Shortly thereafter, she announced that she was starving, and she had a whole Z bar (like a Clif bar for kids), which she wolfed down in a few seconds.

At home, she had about 2/3 of a cup each of rice and refried beans topped with cheese, guacamole, and salsa. Two hours later, she pranced out of bed to announce that she was starving again. I thought it couldn't be possible, but I offered her a few things (all savory -- no desserts), and she took me up on a corn dog, so I heated it up for her, and she ate every morsel. Finally she is sleeping with a full tummy.

Unless you knew my kid well, though, what I really don't mention is that she probably burns 3,000 calories a day in jumping, running, tumbling, climbing, etc. She is the world's most energetic kid. Mom said she was bouncing off the walls today, and I had to restrain myself from asking, "literally?" Because it wouldn't surprise me if she was just throwing herself at the wall, bouncing off, laughing, and doing it again.


Oh my goodness, tomorrow is my last day of work before our newly-extended Thanksgiving break, and tomorrow night is date night for Sweetie's birthday, so Zadie is having a sleepover at Grandma and Boompah's. Woo! Whatever will we do?*

*Probably play Guitar Hero.

Whoops, missed a day

Okay, this one goes out to the lady at the gym who is there about once a week at the same time as I am.

You are clearly determined to burn some calories, as you HAUL ASS on the elliptical. Unfortunately, your workout is frequently interrupted by you spilling your coffee on the little drink tray we keep between our machines. I have water on my side. You have water and coffee on yours, and twice now you have spilled the coffee. Can I just mention that one time you busted ass for several minutes, burning 86 calories, then spilled your coffee, cleaned it up, and left? I'm not sure that you're aware that there are 20 calories and 1.7 grams of fat in a tablespoon of half and half, which you appear to use in your coffee, and you frequently have two cups. I'm just saying... I personally couldn't drink coffee while I worked out, but you may be better off spilling that shit.

Oh and also? Leaning forward at a 120 degree angle to read your magazine is probably not good for your back.



Heh. This reminds me of when we used to blog at People Under the Stairmasters, which Suzanne invited me to join, and which is how I first got to know Suebob, Des, and Alex Elliot.

Just writing down what she's saying again.

When we have Greek sandwiches, we don't have guacamole. I love guacamole. It has spicy tofu in it. I want teriyaki dinner. Can I have popcorn? I want you to write some more. But I like to jump and dance! And bounce... And play. And jump. And I like to go on adventures. I like to go on adventures because it's nice to go on adventures. But lions are usually on adventures. Scary lions! Scary lions! No, silly lions. [Me: I'm going to be done now.] I love you. You can't be done.

Folkie

Yeah, so when I was a kid, my parents had the Peter, Paul and Mary album "Movin," and I listened to it incessantly. I still know almost all the words by heart to every song. I sing to Zadie all the time, and I didn't feel like I particularly sang "A Soalin'" any more than any other song. But when we were in the car yesterday, I started to sing it and Zadie fussed. I asked what was wrong, because she usually likes it. She said she was sad that I was singing it alone. I stopped after every line and let her sing the next one. To my surprise, she knew pretty much all the words. I do love the song, but I didn't really expect Zadie to love it the way I do. Somehow, though, she does. Check it out.

Giving the oven a workout

We had a good day today, though uneventful. We had bread and jam and cheese for breakfast, as a pseudo-Iranian meal. I gave Zadie tea, and I totally forgot that A: she's sensitive to cinnamon and B: the Good Earth tea totally has cinnamon in it. But I remembered when she guzzled her tea and ended up with a Joker-like red grin across her face, plus lines down her chest and on her legs where it had dripped. I threw her in the shower to wash her off. It doesn't seem to bother her at all, but it freaks me out to see such a strong reaction to such a common ingredient.

We went to the farmers market, and today I put her in the old back carrier. I thought she'd be too big, but she wasn't, and I thought she might fuss, but she didn't. In fact, it was a GREAT choice, since I didn't have to carry a wiggly thirty-pound kid and a heavy bag of produce. Then we went to the playground, and she had a great time. And when she had to go potty, she yelled that fact to me and took off running for the car (where we keep the travel potty). So no accident! After that, we went to the gym, then she requested Jamba Juice for lunch, so that's what we did.

At home, I decided to just cook. I made the dinner rolls for next week's family dinner (and they came out great!), a batch of Sweetie's favorite cookies, my food for this week's lunches, and pumpkin muffins. And then I made dinner! We're having another theme week, and this week is Iran. I made two stews, one with yellow split peas and tomato, and another with spinach and herbs. We ate them with Iranian rice, although I've made better. Then we read a Persian Cinderella story, and then it was bedtime. I did try to squeeze in a nap, but it wasn't happening again today. I insisted on 30 minutes of quiet time, which she sort of observed. I don't know why she hasn't been napping lately, but hopefully it's just a phase.

I can't believe I had four days off and it feels like I got so little done. I really envisioned at least getting some crafting done. Well, soon enough I'll have nine days off, then not quite another week will pass before I have two weeks off. It's just hard to be a working mom, to feel like I never have enough time with her, then when I do have some time, to do such a shitty job of it. I mean, in four days I didn't get her to take a single nap! Ah, well.

Dinosaur bread

She didn't nap, and it was horrible, and then she didn't want to go to bed, either, and we fought through putting on pajamas and brushing teeth. And when I asked her why she didn't want to sleep, she said it was because of the dinosaur bread.

I suggested that dinosaurs didn't have bread, both because they didn't have fire, and because they didn't have opposable thumbs.

She countered that dinosaurs loved bread.

As a bread lover myself, I admitted that if dinosaurs had happened to overlap with humans at a time when humans had figured out how to make bread, they might have liked bread.

And then I thought, what the fuck kind of conversation am I having here?

It's the sleep deprivation. I can practically see her in her little lab coat, consulting her clipboard and checking off "dinosaur bread experiment, 11/13/10."

I have a lot of ideas for creative writing tonight, but I'm FREAKING EXHAUSTED. It looks as though all my crafting and baking projects have fallen through this weekend, but I did get out to see an art show, and I did paint the bathroom. And we went ice skating. That's all something.

Even optimists have bad days.

In short, I drove all the way out to Bradshaw to go to the Persian market. It was closed. Their phone number was disconnected. Their hours weren't listed.

We went to the midtown bazaar, which was fine. We went to Dragatomi, which was fine. We went to Sugar Plum Vegan, which I was really looking forward to, but I forgot they were cash only now, so we went across the street to the Golden Bear. There, I had to fish a chunk of foil out of my iced tea, our frittata only vaguely resembled what we had ordered, and Z wouldn't sit in the tall chairs, so I had to eat with my left hand, which caused me to drip ketchup on myself, staining a beloved t-shirt. And the meal, which we split, came to almost $20.

Then I drove way the hell across town in another direction to the other Persian market, which did have what I needed. But their bag was flimsy, and when I got it out of the car, my pomegranate molasses dropped and broke.

Maybe I'll move to Australia.*

*Joking. It's from the book "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day."

Growth and growth and chatter.

Pre-school was a trip. It's been six weeks since I've attended, and she missed twice due to illness (well, sniffles) and once they went to a pumpkin patch instead of school, so really only three classes have passed. But a routine has been set! A schedule is followed! There are procedures! My kid knows and follows them, even anticipating them. It's kind of freaky.

For example, at clean-up time, some other people had begun to clean even before the scratchy LP music had come on, and Zadie joined in, happily cleaning both her mess and a nearby mess she had not contributed to. When all the toys were picked up, although the teacher had made no announcement, Zadie grabbed the hands of two other children to form the song circle.

It was fun otherwise, too. She played with play-dough, ran a toy ambulance down a ramp a couple times, made a painting, helped put a puzzle away, put stickers on a paper bag, and a few other things here and there. She's such a leader sometimes (okay, bossy), and today she marched right over to two kids and announced what they were all going to do. It's nice to see her enjoying school so much. My favorite moment was during "If you're happy and you know it." She sometimes has a bit of a delayed reaction, but she's incredibly enthusiastic. So the third verse, which involves shouting "hooray" went something like this:

Miss Kelly: If you're happy and you know it, shout hooray.
Kids: Hooray.
Zadie (three times as loud as everyone else, and jumping): HOO-RAY!!
Repeat.

She is eating like a horse again. She goes through these phases, and she usually grows an inch overnight, but she never gains a single pound (she hasn't in a year). Anyway, just for your edification, today she had:
Breakfast: Two scrambled eggs and two slices of bacon.
Snack: apple slices and goldfish crackers.
Lunch: macaroni salad.
Snack: 1/4 persimmon, crackers, cheese.
Dinner: Brown & wild rice blend (about 1 cup), 1/3 cup broccoli, 1 meatless Riblet.
Dessert: 1 cup frozen yogurt (I didn't mean to pour her that much, but it came out fast, and she ate every bite).

She also ate an entire bagel and a banana for breakfast yesterday. That's more than either her father or I had.

By the way, she has turned into a world-class chatterbox. I swear, sometimes it keeps her from sleeping because she just HAS to talk more. I went to get the video camera today, because she wanted to help me do the laundry, and as she put wet items into the dryer, I heard this:
"Oh, I'm just putting my nightgown in the dryer so it can be warm and dry. Why did you buy this nightgown for me, Mommy? Oh, here is my Rapunzel shirt. I just got it. It has long sleeves. Here are my underpants. They are wet from the washer. We had to wash them because they got dirty. This is my skirt that I wore to Old Sacramento. Where is my holiday dress?" And on and on and on. Unfortunately, I didn't get back with the camera in time (I think my absence distracted her), so I didn't catch the laundry monologue. You'll just have to trust me -- she rarely runs out of things to say.

Bible, Bruce Lee... whatever.

I was feeling like the theme of the day was the quote I've often heard: "Fall down nine times, get up ten." I thought it was Bruce Lee who had said it, but I didn't just want to attribute it to him without being sure, so I looked it up. Yeah, it's from the Bible. Whoops!





Anyway, we went ice skating today! Zadie totally embodied that quote today, because no matter how many times she fell, she just got right back up. Only once did she even fuss a bit, and that was when she landed in a big puddle and got soaking wet. She did really well, standing up without help and making a beeline for the ice (even before I had managed to get my skates on). She started out by holding both of my hands, but when I needed to straighten up, she held one hand for a couple laps. Several people commented on how well she was doing for how young she is. I was really proud.

Unfortunately, the ice rink's policy is apparently to run two-hour sessions beginning at the even hours, and even if you come at 1pm and pay full price, they don't mention that they're going to throw you off the ice in 45 minutes. Honestly, there's nothing wrong with the policy, and it makes perfect sense why they do the two-hour sessions. It just pisses me off that there's NO signage, nothing on the web site, and no one verbalizes it to you until they're throwing you off the ice and you ask. We were both disappointed.

Also today I painted the bathroom. I had done it a couple years ago and done a piss-poor job, frankly. There were several spots where I didn't get good coverage, even though I did two coats and several touch-ups. It needed to be completely re-done, and since we had just gotten the tile done, a new toilet, had the towel bar moved, and gotten a light fixture (that one's older, but still...), it seemed like this was the perfect time to do it. I started at about eight and was done by about eleven, although I still had some clean-up to do this afternoon, and there may be one more touch-up spot on the ceiling. Now the whole room looks totally finished and awesome!

Zadie wants to blog, too. Here's what she has to say to the world: I love you. I love Grandma, but you're cute. And I like you. Because I love it. And I love you. And guh-bwah. Shagwah. I shab you because it is nice to shab people. Why are you writing my answers up? What are those answers? And you are cute. I love you. You're cute! I love you. Paint! Since you painted I got myself dirty. Painting is dirty, because caw! I love you, world! [ed. Z runs screaming around the room for a minute, then comes back.] I love the world. I love you a bushel and a peck!

Yay, pictures!

Well, obviously these pictures aren't as nice in terms of quality as the ones from the other day, but they sure show my kid's personality.


Ready for soccer.


She chose the outfit.


And she chose this outfit, too.


Clearly, it made her happy.

Rolls, gifts, and growing up... it's the season for bwagwa.

I got a head start on the dinner rolls for my mom's annual early Thanksgiving. One of the perks of coming from a broken home is going to two holiday celebrations. Of course, it's also hard to pick yourself up after a big dinner and drive (really far) across town to another one. For this reason, my mom has been kind enough to host Thanksgiving at her house... on the Sunday before Thanksgiving. It's great! You get the whole dinner, then three days of leftovers, then another Thanksgiving dinner! Anyway, I've been making bread so much that I thought I'd try my hand at dinner rolls. I made the dough tonight, since I use a refrigerated slow-rise dough. I threw in a ton of fresh rosemary and now I'm looking forward to making them.

I have been limiting my nightly goofing off and trying to use my time more wisely (well, daily blogging excepted). I finished my first handmade gift today. Can't tell you what it is, but I'm happy with the result. Hopefully I'll get started making more different kinds of gifts soon.

Okay, two Zadie-isms for the night. Yesterday when I came home, she was riding her bike in the living room (and pretty successfully. Then at dinner, she used a fork to eat almost all of her pasta. I commented on it, saying "Wow, you were riding your bike earlier and now you're eating with a fork. When did you grow up so much?" She replied, matter-of-factly as she always does, "Oh, I growed up in July."

Zadie loves nonsense (which I can appreciate). One of her favorite nonsense words sounds like "Bwagwa." We'll be having a normal conversation, and all of a sudden, she'll bust out with a "bwagwa" and laugh hysterically. Like, "What did you have for lunch today?" "Bwagwa!"

So last night, we had a conversation that was about, if I remember correctly, going to bed. It went something like this:
Me: Zadie, we can't have chocolate milk right now because it's almost bedtime.
Z: Well, I need it to bwagwa.
Me: Well, unfortunately, bwagwa.
Z: (Tilting her head to the side most quizzically) I don't know that bwagwa.

(Maybe you had to be there -- the idea was that all the "bwagwas" made some kind of sense until mine, which was unfamiliar and incomprehensible.)

Raggedy Ann

This morning as I was dropping Zadie off, she made a beeline for the Raggedy Ann doll that sleeps in a little doll bed. She sat on the edge of the bed, murmuring words of comfort to it, telling Ann that she didn't have to be scared. She used part of my good night saying: "Good night, sleep tight. I love you, and I will see you in the morning." Then she gently explained that she couldn't stay in Raggedy Ann's bed, because she had her own bed.

I am so lucky and so thankful that, when she is acting as Mommy, she is the Mommy I want to be most of the time, and not the "Come on, hop up into your carseat, quick quick quick!" Mommy that I sometimes am.

My writing group finally inspired me to do some writing. I actually wrote a pretty decent short-short story during the meeting last Friday, and today I wrote about 600 words of something I've been thinking about for a long time. The friend who organizes it really goes to some trouble to prepare, and I appreciate it. I decided to get her a little present, so I ordered it today.

Anyway, life is good. Hope it is for you, too.

A Different Kind of Cool

Mom and I saw the final performance of the latest Jack Gallagher one-man-show at the B Street Theater today. It was almost entirely about his son, Liam, who was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder (specifically, PDD/NOS, the same diagnosis my cousin has) in second grade. Although autism is a subject I'm interested in, and Gallagher a performer who could talk about computer programming for 90 minutes and entertain me, I was even more moved that I was prepared for. Because it's not really about autism -- it's about any parent's love for his or her child, and that difficult line we all walk between respecting who they are as a person and trying to make them ready for a world of conformity.

I'm stoked about this week -- it's only three days for me! I don't normally extend my holidays by taking extra days, but I need to take Zadie to pre-school on Friday, and Thursday is Veteran's Day.

My writing group has really inspired me, but not to actually write... yet. I'm going through a lot of ideas in my head, but you know, there's laundry to fold...

Poker night was last night, and we had a great time. I sort of broke even (I was down about 50 cents, and Debbie and I had given each other small, uncounted piles of chips at various points throughout the game), and we had a great time talking and playing, as always. And eating. One mustn't forget the eating. Jenny made stuffed pickled peppers, there was fruit, brie, our jalapeno poppers, I made ginger ice cream and molasses cookies, and there were several kinds of veggies and chips and dips. It is pretty much the only occasion when I eat french onion dip, and that stuff is ridiculous. I love it. I would seriously take that over some fancy homemade caramelized-onion-and-Neufchatel version (or whatever the non-Lipton version is).

Maybe I should! Plus pic-o-rama.

Today I got the ice cream machine out. The frozen part had a few bits of lint in it, so I used a damp paper towel to try to get them out before I poured the custard in. Instead, the paper towel froze to the ice cream maker, leaving giant chunks of paper in there to mix with the ice cream. I yelled "Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! Darn!"

A minute later, I had some hot water ready to try to clean the paper towel out, this time with a sponge. But I burned my thumb with the steam and yelled again.

Zadie was "helping" me by standing on her chair in the kitchen. She said "Why are you my mommy and I love you and I don't want to see you get hurt? Maybe you should help me..."

This day could not have been more perfect thus far. Zadie slept in, then ate a good breakfast, and went to soccer where she listened very well, even winning a game.

At home, we hurried to get ready and go to Old Sac, where we were meeting my old friend's little sister, who has recently taken up photography. We had scheduled a photo shoot with her in lieu of going to Sears this year for Christmas pictures. We took about 90 minutes, and by the end, Zadie was bored of it, but she was really pretty good throughout the rest of the time. I mean, not like she's great at following directions, but she tried. Then we had lunch at a little Indonesian Cafe and came home. I've made two kinds of cookies and ice cream this weekend. At least I'm making small batches so we won't have leftovers!!

Here are a few of the pictures.

The nose part two.

As we are leaving Mom's house, Mom gives Zadie a kiss, and Zadie wipes it off. As we drive away, we have this conversation.

Z: I don't LIKE kisses from grown-ups!
Me: Do you like kisses from me?
Z: Yeah, I like kisses from you.
Me: Do you like kisses from Daddy?
Z: Yeah, I like kisses from Daddy.
Me: What about Boompah?
Z: Yeah, I like kisses from Boompah.
Me: Do you like kisses from Grandma?
Z: Yeah, I like kisses from Grandma.
Me: What about Grandpa John?
Z: Yeah, I like kisses from Grandpa John.
Me: What about kisses from Grandma Jan?
Z: Yeah... I want to talk about Grandpa Hossein.
Me: Okay, do you like kisses from Grandpa Hossein?
Z: Yeah, but I want to talk about his long nose.
Me: Oh geez. Okay, but can you promise me we'll never talk TO Grandpa Hossein about his nose? Can you promise that?
Z: No.

The nose knows

We had a horrible night last night, and this morning we had tantrum after tantrum even though she was only awake for about ten minutes before I dumped her on Grandma. She cried because she wanted to go to the park, but it wasn't a park day. (Incidentally, no one had said anything about the park, we have never told her it's not a park day, and I basically have no earthly idea why she suddenly burst into tears about it).

Anyway, this afternoon I happened to have some free time, and there were a couple things we needed from a household goods store. Said store is right next to an Old Navy, and I am getting some pictures taken of Zadie on Saturday. Usually we do one fancy dress and one more casual outfit, but I didn't have the casual outfit yet, so I popped into Old Navy. They had SUCH cute stuff. I ended up getting her an outfit with a pink shirt with a Christmas tree, a silver tiered tutu, and silver boots.

Anyway, the boots weren't too small, but they were really borderline, and I knew a larger size would work better with socks and as she grows. So we went back tonight. In the car on the way, we were talking about grandparents, and hers are pretty complicated. I mean, she has seven, and no set of parents is still with the partner they had the child with. Anyway... We talk about it fairly often, that Grandma is Mom's mom, Grandpa John is Mom's dad, and Grandpa John lives with Grandma Tia, whereas Grandma lives with Boompah, etc. So we get onto the topic of Grandpa Hossein.

I would never want to stereotype, but the Persian people are somewhat known for their impressive noses. In fact, nose jobs are ubiquitous in Iran (it probably doesn't hurt that the nose is one of the only things you can see on a woman). So Zadie says "Why does Grandpa Hossein have a kinda long nose?" I replied, "Oh, it's just one of his unique features." Zadie pursues it: "Why does Grandpa Hossein look kind of goofy with his long long nose?" "Well, I don't think he looks goofy." "Yeah, he does look goofy."

As for me, my grades are due tomorrow and they're done already! Which means that shortly after noon tomorrow, I'm outta there! I'm going to pick up Z, have lunch, pick up some stuff for cookie and ice cream making.

I could have gone to band practice tonight (they're trying to do it every week), but I really need an early evening, especially since Zadie didn't stop screaming and howling "BUT I'M NOT TIRED!!!" until after 10:30, and she woke up again at 4, at which point I found that she had already taken off her pajama pants and diaper. I had to clean her up, put a diaper back on her, and lay down with her to get her back to sleep. As I get up at 5, I really didn't get any more sleep. I got up this morning thinking "I think I got thirty winks instead of forty."

Okay, take care!
CM

Day after election day

If you've followed me at all, you can tell I'm a totally far-left bleeding-heart liberal who finds the democratic party far too conservative (and not ballsy enough) most of the time. But they're kind of all I've got right now, unless somehow Dennis Kucinich makes a comeback.

Anyway, so I'm pleased and heartbroken over the elections yesterday. The thing is, in my state, California, almost everything went my way -- school board, governor, superintendent of public instruction, senator... I voted for Prop 19 (legalizing marijuana, sort of), but halfheartedly, so I'm not terribly disappointed that it failed. A city council spot went to a complete douche, but that's okay.

On the other hand, OMG, the whole frickin' rest of the country went Republican yesterday. Not that I wasn't expecting it, really, because I know how much momentum they have with the tea party freaks getting all that press, but still...

I am a pretty open-minded person, and usually it's easy for me to see both sides of an issue, no matter how passionate I am about it. But I really don't get the republican mindset. It's like they don't think anyone deserves a handout unless they're already very rich. They believe everyone should pull themselves up by their own bootstraps, unless they're born privileged. They believe the government should keep its nose out of everyone's business, unless peoples' business happens to conflict with their personal religious beliefs. And pretty much every Republican president over the last 20 years has put us in debt, which the next democratic president dug us out of, yet they claim Democrats are "tax and spend liberals." And you know, it totally makes sense to me why rich dudes would like that system. I mean, if I was the CEO of a financial institution, I'd like republican policies, too. I'd just sit back and be fat, dumb and happy with my bajillion dollar bonuses while the idiots railed on about welfare queens living the high life because they can afford acrylic nails. But why would middle class or poor people be republicans? It doesn't benefit them economically at all. I guess it comes down to God and guns, huh?

Anyway, that's how it broke down around here.

No major Zadie funnies today, although an oddity for sure -- it's 10:10 here, and she's still totally wide awake and talking. We put her to bed two hours ago, and she keeps getting up, yelling for us, playing her xylophone... I swear there was no caffeine in tonight's dinner. I'm going to bed and turning all the lights off soon, so perhaps she'll go to sleep then.

Oh, good news for me! My health insurance now covers chiropractic! And just in time, as my back has been fairly seriously jacked-up for over two weeks. I was taking Aleve, which made it feel better, but it was ripping up my stomach, so now I'm not taking anything and just icing it. But I found a chiro right in my neighborhood, and I have an appointment tomorrow after school. Woot!

Take care,
CM

On music.

Earlier, I heard Z and Sweetie talking about whether she was sweet or spicy. They decided on spicy, then there was some whispering, and she came running into the kitchen, where she proceeded to do a very energetic, kicky dance and sing "I'm too spicy for my dress. I'm too spicy for my dress. I'm too spicy for my dress it huuurts me!"

On the way to a birthday party, we were talking about music, and she asked why I like it. I answered simply, that it made me feel good, that it was catchy, and that I could relate to it. She said "Music makes my bad feelings go out of my breath." Isn't that awesome? I know it doesn't make perfect sense, but it makes a little more if I tell you that we often talk about trying to breathe her bad feelings out.

And finally, she's been on a rhyming kick. Earlier she said "Okay, whatever you say. I made a rhyme!" And in the continuing Right Said Fred theme, at the dinner table she announced "I'm too spicy for my tights, I'm not wearing a shirt, my tights hurt!"

I can't tell you what craft project I'm working on, because the intended recipient sometimes reads this, but I got a lot of work done on it last night, and I'm very happy with it. Which reinforces my not-doing-NaNoWriMo decision.


Lastly, it's election day, and I voted early. I was, in fact, the tenth person to vote at my polling place (and I think Sweetie was ninth). I know it's normal for the tide to turn half-way through a president's term, and I know there's been a lot of momentum behind this shitbag-crazy tea party movement, but I hope things sort of mostly go my way. It really seems like the other side wants to eliminate public education, give corporations unlimited power, screw the little guy and all the public services, and make decisions based on their religious values irrespective of the separation of church and state (hell, Christine O'Donnell isn't even apparently aware of said separation). Yeah, so... I'm not going to stay up late watching election results or anything, but I'm invested in this.

On governors and Cthulhu and Halloween fun

Today on the way home, I told Zadie that I would probably take her with me to vote tomorrow. I gave a very simple version of how they ask everybody what they think, and then whatever most people want, that's the decision. I also said that right now, what we get to vote for is who is in charge of our state, and that person is called the governor. She immediately said that she was going to grow up and be the governor "when I get big big!" I asked whether she would make good decisions for us, and she said yes. Later, jokingly, her dad and I asked her whether she would lay off state workers or not, and she said no. She also said she would protect our pensions. Finally, she thinks it's okay if boys and boys get married because they love each other. So... I think she's got my vote!

Later she and Sweetie took a walk, and they were talking about the birds singing. He asked what they were singing about, and she said it was about monsters. "Really?" he asked. "Yes, they're singing about Great Cthulhu."

We had a blast this weekend. After my school party Friday night, on Saturday we did our cleaning, then went to Funderland, a local amusement park for little kids. They were having a trick or treat event, and a few rides were included if the kids were in costume and you brought a toy or game for charity. We did, and the first thing she wanted to go on was an octopus ride. (Pictures later.) Next was the train, and she wanted to sit alone! I had to sit behind her. Then we went to the haunted house, and she wasn't scared at all. We also went on the teacups, and she wanted to spin faster and faster. Finally, she spotted the dragon roller coaster. I checked to make sure she could go on, and she was just tall enough. We strapped in and went around three times. On our first revolution, I heard her screaming and I thought "uh-oh." But I turned towards her so I could hear better and realized she was screaming "whoo-hoo!" I think I have a future roller coaster partner on my hands.

The trick-or-treating was pretty lame. Most people were giving out the lamest candy available, and I'm not sure some of them weren't left over from Easter. One booth was giving out Sixlets. Not to be ungrateful, but I bought the GOOD candy for my trick-or-treaters, and even that was only $12. And each of the booths at Funderland were also trying to sell me stuff, like the booth that gave me a spider ring and an Avon catalog. Oh well, Zadie doesn't care.

We had lunch at Dad's Kitchen after that, and I had a great pasta. Zadie ate most of her taco and half of my pasta. We came home and tried to take a nap, but she wasn't having it. Earlier in the day I had asked Sweetie what he wanted for dinner, and thrown out some suggestions like soup and chili. Zadie said "curry noodles!" Sweetie and I looked at each other and said "That sounds good. Is that a real thing?" It was. I found a recipe, and after a trip to the Asian market for lemongrass, we made that for dinner. It was really good!! Anything that calls for 1/4 cup of ginger is okay in my book.

That evening, we drank pumpkin spice soy milk (eggnog for the lactose intolerant), had a fire, and watched Ponyo again. At one point I was leaning against the mantel, warming my butt, looking at my family, and wondering if I could possibly remember that moment forever. I hope so.

On Sunday, we did our usual stuff -- waffles, the Co-op for a few items, the farmer's market, and then the gym for yoga. Then we met Mom for lunch so that we could stay home at dinnertime to give out candy. This was a bad move for us for two reasons -- first, I had the worst lunch at Cafe Capricho. We waited 45 minutes for two salads and a quesadilla while about thirty other people came, ordered, were served, and left. When I finally asked, they said they were making it. Yeah. Anyway, five minutes later, we got our salads, and mine was missing fully half of the ingredients listed on the menu.

We came home for another no-nap, and then got ready to go out visiting. At the last minute, she decided she didn't want to be Dorothy anymore, so she put on one of her play dresses, a princess dress. I was like "okay, whatever. Do you want a tiara?" What the hell, right? Why argue with a two-year-old? Anyway, we visited my dad, my friend Maria, and my Grandma, then ordered a pizza, picked it up, and hurried home, presumably to the kind of hordes of trick-or-treaters I saw on 39th street (seriously, it was a zoo). Alas, no. I got two trick-or-treaters all night, and though I pushed them to take more candy, they politely took one piece each. Not to worry, though -- I work with teenagers. I think I can find someone to take my leftover candy.

That was honestly a disappointment, though, because I really love seeing everyone's costumes, and we only even saw two girls from our street.

That's about it for now. I have opted out of NaNoWriMo again in favor of starting my Christmas crafts, keeping up with the ironing and laundry, and not stressing myself out over a novel I'll never publish. I am considering, however, NaBloPoMo, the November challenge for those of us with limited attention spans. So check back and see whether I follow through with that. =)

Take care,
CM