Well, I usually tell you how our learn-about-a-country weeks have gone. To be honest, we haven't done much for Mexico. I mean, we had Mexican food on four nights, Zadie went to (normally scheduled) Spanish class, and we read a book about "the Mexican Cinderella." But that was about it. I may add a few things in the coming days, and I plan to do a write-up on Mexican foods on The Goodest Cooker (it's not there as of Saturday evening), but it's been a bit of a busy week.
One of the most fun things we did was yesterday. We went to school for the annual banquet. It's for the honors students, and it's a big potluck. Traditionally, the students organize it all (all I do is get a building permit, send a couple emails, pick up plates and stuff, and then show up to chaperone). They have sort of built on it every year -- it used to be just a dinner and dancing. Then they added a senior slideshow. Then they added "humorous teacher awards." Then there were performances. Then they added games. This year, the banquet ran from 5:30 to 8:00 before they turned off the lights and started dancing.
It's always a bit of a challenge to have Z there during the awards and stuff, because one of her favorite things to do is run away from me and sprint across campus. But during the dance? Shoot, I could probably wander off for a drink and come back and know where she is -- smack in the middle of the dance floor. In fact, a couple times she shooed me away! She scans the crowd, looks for a young lady who strikes her fancy, and then grabs the young lady's hand. If there are two next to each other, that's even better. If there aren't two, she might drag the first one around until she finds another one. Then, she twists, she jitterbugs, she jumps, and she wiggles her fanny until the girls giggle and pull away or she decides she's bored. It seems that she normally chooses young Asian ladies in flowered dresses, but she threw me off at one point by grabbing a cute little lesbian couple in pants. Even though the party was clearly ending when we left at 8:50, she was very sad to go. I think she would have danced for hours more.
Anyway, because it's a three-day weekend, I have a little extra time to shop and do my errands, so today I decided we'd do something fun. I checked my blogs, and there were two events that sounded promising. First was the Kids International Festival in Land Park. It promised dance performances, food, bounce houses, and more. Also, it was free. Then there was the county fair, which sounded rather like the state fair, but only $5. I debated, and ultimately let Z decide. She chose the fair.
It was $10 for parking, so next time I'll bike, but the weather was yucky today. I really thought it would be a lot smaller than the state fair. Frankly, I kind of imagined the Charlotte's Web fair -- mostly hogs and maybe a ferris wheel. But in fact, there was a midway, lots of food vendors (we ended up with crepes for lunch, actually), exhibits, art, animals, and fun little things for kids, like tractor-shaped tricycles. I bought the $18 for 20 tickets "super party fun-time pass" (or whatever) thinking that there was no way she could go through 20 tickets. Lesson learned: next time I'll buy the unlimited pass. She LOVES rides and could have continued going on rides for hours. We did, however, see a lot of other cool stuff, like a Chinese dance academy and a ballet folklorico troupe. We had a great time, stayed for about four hours, and then came home to make dinner.
I made a yummy taco night happen, and then we all sat down, cuddled under a blanket, and watched "Tangled" together. Under a blanket? I can hear you asking... Yes. Despite the fact that it is Memorial Day weekend and almost June, it is cold and rainy. Anyway, it was really nice family time.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Sunday, May 22, 2011
A whole mess of stuff.
Well, I didn't post after our big camping adventure last weekend. I wrote it all up and put it on Facebook, and then I just ran out of steam. Long story short, we really didn't expect snow and really weren't prepared for snow, and we woke up in six inches of it. We bailed but not before some wrong directions, some roads that had to be plowed, some inexperience with driving in the snow (I seriously almost took us off the side of a cliff), some luggage flying off the top of vehicles, a set of lost keys, a bear, three collapsed tents and a pile of wet wood. Oh, and twenty teenagers in canvas shoes and sweatshirts.
Honestly, despite all that, it wasn't that bad. In fact, it was kind of fun. And what I didn't mention in the original story is that there were some things I experienced that I never had before. First, although it's possible that I have been in falling snow, I do not remember it at all. I have been to the snow several times, but generally it's old snow that has formed a dirty, icy crust on top. To actually have snowflakes falling on you is pretty cool. I actually got to stick my tongue out and catch snowflakes, and so did Z. I threw a powdery, lightly packed snowball. The kids made snowmen. You know how, when you grow up in one kind of place, you just don't really understand the weather of other places? I had seen, in movies, people taking snowballs and rolling them around to collect more snow and make the balls bigger. I honestly did not think that worked. I thought it was a movies-only thing. But the kids were trying it, and it worked! Brand-new fresh snow actually turns out to be much more fun than that icy crusty stuff.
Okay, moving on... I still have hives. It's awful. My skin is super-duper sensitive and I still itch ALL THE TIME. I'm hoping that whatever it is goes away soon.
We've got a good garden in this year. I added some planting space to the front yard and put in a kumquat, a blueberry, strawberries, and raspberries. Everything is looking good. And in the back we have tomatoes, basil, many peppers, some pumpkins, tomatillos, and cucumbers, plus some herbs. The peppers don't like this cool weather, and the basil has been pretty well eaten by bugs. We have grubworms, and Sweetie is subjecting them to torture on an individual basis.
Zadie's going through some stuff. She needs to make all the decisions for herself all the time, and if she changes her mind twelve seconds later, her only question is why we didn't KNOW what she meant. Ugh. But time-wise, we have a lot more fun times than awful times. It's just that the awful times are pretty awful. But she's a good and weird and interesting individual, and I know we're going to get through it all relatively unscathed.
Today we were at the park and ran into some kids that we know pretty well. The girl is 5 1/2, and I told her mom she's a "leader." She thanked me for using such a positive euphemism for "bossy." Okay, she's bossy. But what I liked about Z is that she would play their game, whatever it was, for a while, and then go do something else. She was perfectly capable of following and getting along and being part of a group, but she wasn't tied to the group thing, and was totally independent about doing what she wanted to do. A couple times, I heard the group calling "Zadie! Zadie! We're over here!" and then I'd see them running to where she was to follow her onto the spongy climbing thing. She's pretty awesome.
I'm sucked into the third Steig Larsson book. I kind of hate myself for it, but when a book's engaging, it's engaging.
This is Mexico week. Viva Mexican food! Yes, that is the main reason we're doing Mexico this week. I will throw in some educational stuff, but... tamales!!
Zadie is now almost 38" tall. I can't believe how fast she grows.
My stress at work is easing off. Most of the high-pressure stuff is over, but there's still a lot of time-consuming stuff. This week alone, I have two events after school that will take a total of almost 8 hours. For one, I'll have to go home and come back, so add 40 minutes of driving. The other, I may not leave at all, so add a couple hours of hanging out after school doing catch-up work and packing. But it's always like this at this time of year. Final potlucks. Awards ceremonies. Graduation. Meetings.
My kids are more attached to me than I thought. I mentioned that I was moving to the other learning community, and you'd think I'd hit them with shock and awe. Plus, they're asking when they can add me on Facebook. Graduation day? Before or after graduation? What about the day they check out? Can they do it before they've gotten my signature on the check-out paper? Can they do it from their phone in class that day? Dorks. I'm going to miss them.
Honestly, despite all that, it wasn't that bad. In fact, it was kind of fun. And what I didn't mention in the original story is that there were some things I experienced that I never had before. First, although it's possible that I have been in falling snow, I do not remember it at all. I have been to the snow several times, but generally it's old snow that has formed a dirty, icy crust on top. To actually have snowflakes falling on you is pretty cool. I actually got to stick my tongue out and catch snowflakes, and so did Z. I threw a powdery, lightly packed snowball. The kids made snowmen. You know how, when you grow up in one kind of place, you just don't really understand the weather of other places? I had seen, in movies, people taking snowballs and rolling them around to collect more snow and make the balls bigger. I honestly did not think that worked. I thought it was a movies-only thing. But the kids were trying it, and it worked! Brand-new fresh snow actually turns out to be much more fun than that icy crusty stuff.
Okay, moving on... I still have hives. It's awful. My skin is super-duper sensitive and I still itch ALL THE TIME. I'm hoping that whatever it is goes away soon.
We've got a good garden in this year. I added some planting space to the front yard and put in a kumquat, a blueberry, strawberries, and raspberries. Everything is looking good. And in the back we have tomatoes, basil, many peppers, some pumpkins, tomatillos, and cucumbers, plus some herbs. The peppers don't like this cool weather, and the basil has been pretty well eaten by bugs. We have grubworms, and Sweetie is subjecting them to torture on an individual basis.
Zadie's going through some stuff. She needs to make all the decisions for herself all the time, and if she changes her mind twelve seconds later, her only question is why we didn't KNOW what she meant. Ugh. But time-wise, we have a lot more fun times than awful times. It's just that the awful times are pretty awful. But she's a good and weird and interesting individual, and I know we're going to get through it all relatively unscathed.
Today we were at the park and ran into some kids that we know pretty well. The girl is 5 1/2, and I told her mom she's a "leader." She thanked me for using such a positive euphemism for "bossy." Okay, she's bossy. But what I liked about Z is that she would play their game, whatever it was, for a while, and then go do something else. She was perfectly capable of following and getting along and being part of a group, but she wasn't tied to the group thing, and was totally independent about doing what she wanted to do. A couple times, I heard the group calling "Zadie! Zadie! We're over here!" and then I'd see them running to where she was to follow her onto the spongy climbing thing. She's pretty awesome.
I'm sucked into the third Steig Larsson book. I kind of hate myself for it, but when a book's engaging, it's engaging.
This is Mexico week. Viva Mexican food! Yes, that is the main reason we're doing Mexico this week. I will throw in some educational stuff, but... tamales!!
Zadie is now almost 38" tall. I can't believe how fast she grows.
My stress at work is easing off. Most of the high-pressure stuff is over, but there's still a lot of time-consuming stuff. This week alone, I have two events after school that will take a total of almost 8 hours. For one, I'll have to go home and come back, so add 40 minutes of driving. The other, I may not leave at all, so add a couple hours of hanging out after school doing catch-up work and packing. But it's always like this at this time of year. Final potlucks. Awards ceremonies. Graduation. Meetings.
My kids are more attached to me than I thought. I mentioned that I was moving to the other learning community, and you'd think I'd hit them with shock and awe. Plus, they're asking when they can add me on Facebook. Graduation day? Before or after graduation? What about the day they check out? Can they do it before they've gotten my signature on the check-out paper? Can they do it from their phone in class that day? Dorks. I'm going to miss them.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Been busy, and changes a-comin'
I haven't been around a lot. Maybe it has something to do with pre-school meetings, school meetings, senior presentations, camping trips, refrigerator deliveries, garage sales, holidays, and just the general grind. Sometimes I think to myself, "The kid is usually in bed by 8:30 -- why don't I have ANY goddamn free time?" And then I remember -- it's because after she goes to bed, I tidy up her stuff, throw a load of laundry in, fold a load of laundry, run to the store for something we forgot, pay the bills, take the garbage and recycling out, scoop the cat litter, feed the cat, sort through the junk mail, make the coffee for the morning, start the slow-cooker, answer my students' emailed questions, bake bread, remove stains, transfer the laundry to the dryer... Guh. It's not really stuff that can get ignored, but it does wear on you.
Anyway, the big thing on my mind is a work thing. I was asked yesterday to switch small learning communities. I've worked in two schools now with strong SLCs. I know it doesn't work everywhere, but it happens that at the two places I've been, our communities have had a sense of identity, colleagues who collaborate, students who know what they're a part of, and just generally a sense of being part of the larger school, yet a distinct entity within it, too. I told the principal that I could see why he was doing it (there are a lot of personnel changes happening), and that my answer was almost certainly a yes, but that I really still wanted to think on it overnight. He said today that it shouldn't be a surprise, when we work so hard to foster community, that we are hesitant to leave one. And I am. I'll work with an entirely different set of colleagues -- ones I also respect, but simply don't know as well, and they already have some dynamics firmly in place. It's almost like going to a new school when you're a kid -- "Will I fit in?"
I'm sad to leave my co-workers. With them, I've gone on innumerable camping trips and field trips. I've sat through hundreds of meetings. I've chaperoned banquets and dances. Heck, I've gone out for beers with them. My lead teacher once couldn't stop laughing as he sang "I will always love you" to a s'more at Yosemite.
But then... I know myself. I am an adaptable person. The first thing the principal asked me was "how are you with change?" And I had to answer honestly -- pretty good. I am also an optimist, so I can see the silver lining to this. Although I'll lose out on a lot of things we did together in my SLC, there will be new things in the new one. I will get to know colleagues I haven't spent much time with. And if they don't have all the fun, educational stuff that we used to do? Then I shall use my vast knowledge of organizing that shit to start new, not-exactly-stolen riffs on it.
Here's a story. My old school was not a great school, but I loved it. I loved my colleagues, and I loved my temporary principal, and when we got a new principal, I didn't love him, but I understood him and he respected me, so we worked together fine. And every Wednesday was salad day. We had a sign-up sheet, and every week, we would bring bread (from Irene's bread machine), dressing (Lou's homemade dressing was the best), cheese, olives, beans, tuna, boiled eggs, and whatever else. One guy was allergic to cilantro, so we started leaving that on the side, along with the tuna, but we mixed everything else up in a gigantic bowl. It wasn't the whole staff, but a pretty good chunk. And then I left.
I was nervous. I knew a few people at the new school from having been in an internship program with them. And, well, my dad worked there. But it was bigger, and it right away seemed more impersonal. My room was far from the staff dining room, and lunches weren't long. A few times, I went there to see what was up, and there were four or five older guys arguing passionately about politics. It wasn't my scene, so I took to eating alone in my classroom. Soon, kids joined me, and that became the routine.
But a couple years ago, I tried starting a pot luck salad. The sign-up list didn't work -- people just brought what they had without signing up in advance, but nevertheless, we had a few nice lunches before school let out. The next Fall, two people said "Hey, are we going to do salads again?" Sure, I thought. I sent out a school-wide email, and about three of us showed up. But then there were four. And then there were five. This year, there's a steady salad group of eight, and we have been more ambitious -- Rachel brought mochi. Tom brings three or four raw veggies and a homemade salad dressing. Nicole roasts beets and sometimes brings boiled eggs from the chickens in her backyard. Stacey brings chevre. I bake bread. Nina, who is new, brought pickled carrots last week.
I guess what I'm saying is, where there isn't a community, I can build one. Slowly, maybe. And where I don't know people, I can get to know them. It is one of my greatest gifts that I rarely really dislike someone, and I don't know very many people who dislike me.
In short: I'll be fine. I'll be sad, but I'll be fine.
Anyway, the big thing on my mind is a work thing. I was asked yesterday to switch small learning communities. I've worked in two schools now with strong SLCs. I know it doesn't work everywhere, but it happens that at the two places I've been, our communities have had a sense of identity, colleagues who collaborate, students who know what they're a part of, and just generally a sense of being part of the larger school, yet a distinct entity within it, too. I told the principal that I could see why he was doing it (there are a lot of personnel changes happening), and that my answer was almost certainly a yes, but that I really still wanted to think on it overnight. He said today that it shouldn't be a surprise, when we work so hard to foster community, that we are hesitant to leave one. And I am. I'll work with an entirely different set of colleagues -- ones I also respect, but simply don't know as well, and they already have some dynamics firmly in place. It's almost like going to a new school when you're a kid -- "Will I fit in?"
I'm sad to leave my co-workers. With them, I've gone on innumerable camping trips and field trips. I've sat through hundreds of meetings. I've chaperoned banquets and dances. Heck, I've gone out for beers with them. My lead teacher once couldn't stop laughing as he sang "I will always love you" to a s'more at Yosemite.
But then... I know myself. I am an adaptable person. The first thing the principal asked me was "how are you with change?" And I had to answer honestly -- pretty good. I am also an optimist, so I can see the silver lining to this. Although I'll lose out on a lot of things we did together in my SLC, there will be new things in the new one. I will get to know colleagues I haven't spent much time with. And if they don't have all the fun, educational stuff that we used to do? Then I shall use my vast knowledge of organizing that shit to start new, not-exactly-stolen riffs on it.
Here's a story. My old school was not a great school, but I loved it. I loved my colleagues, and I loved my temporary principal, and when we got a new principal, I didn't love him, but I understood him and he respected me, so we worked together fine. And every Wednesday was salad day. We had a sign-up sheet, and every week, we would bring bread (from Irene's bread machine), dressing (Lou's homemade dressing was the best), cheese, olives, beans, tuna, boiled eggs, and whatever else. One guy was allergic to cilantro, so we started leaving that on the side, along with the tuna, but we mixed everything else up in a gigantic bowl. It wasn't the whole staff, but a pretty good chunk. And then I left.
I was nervous. I knew a few people at the new school from having been in an internship program with them. And, well, my dad worked there. But it was bigger, and it right away seemed more impersonal. My room was far from the staff dining room, and lunches weren't long. A few times, I went there to see what was up, and there were four or five older guys arguing passionately about politics. It wasn't my scene, so I took to eating alone in my classroom. Soon, kids joined me, and that became the routine.
But a couple years ago, I tried starting a pot luck salad. The sign-up list didn't work -- people just brought what they had without signing up in advance, but nevertheless, we had a few nice lunches before school let out. The next Fall, two people said "Hey, are we going to do salads again?" Sure, I thought. I sent out a school-wide email, and about three of us showed up. But then there were four. And then there were five. This year, there's a steady salad group of eight, and we have been more ambitious -- Rachel brought mochi. Tom brings three or four raw veggies and a homemade salad dressing. Nicole roasts beets and sometimes brings boiled eggs from the chickens in her backyard. Stacey brings chevre. I bake bread. Nina, who is new, brought pickled carrots last week.
I guess what I'm saying is, where there isn't a community, I can build one. Slowly, maybe. And where I don't know people, I can get to know them. It is one of my greatest gifts that I rarely really dislike someone, and I don't know very many people who dislike me.
In short: I'll be fine. I'll be sad, but I'll be fine.
Monday, May 02, 2011
Tweet-style
Itchy hives, go away, or I'm breaking out the big guns: elimination diet.
Gotta start going to the farmers market earlier, not least because I keep running into my boss.
Garage sale a success. Geek moment = "OMG! That guy is the former poet laureate of Sac and he lives right down the street!"
Dressed up to model "business attire" today, and feel like I'm in disguise.
Gotta start going to the farmers market earlier, not least because I keep running into my boss.
Garage sale a success. Geek moment = "OMG! That guy is the former poet laureate of Sac and he lives right down the street!"
Dressed up to model "business attire" today, and feel like I'm in disguise.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Our intriguing Easter
Today started with an egg hunt. I put together some brunch munchies for the adults and hid a boatload of eggs for the kids, and then we waited... The kids were raring to go at about 9:50, but we had said we'd wait for the other kids to come at ten. When we finally released them, it was madness. Fun madness, though. I watched as some kids found eggs, then placed them in others' baskets. Some kids took eggs out of others' baskets. Some kids had to be led to eggs. Some kids thought hard-boiled ones were perfect for throwing. And then we all sat around and ate junk food and chatted. And it was a little melancholy, because some neighbors whom we really like had news today: they sold their house. We knew they were listing it, but it seemed like it was really up in the air, because they needed to make a certain amount to move. But they got an offer, countered, and it was accepted, so they are in escrow now. I'm happy for them, because it will cut down on something like six hours of commute time per week, but I'm sad for us, because their son was really Zadie's first friend and playmate, and because I just really like them.
We cleaned up, had some down time, tried to take a nap (failed), and then went to the park to kill some time before dinner. The park was surprisingly crowded. I guess having a barbecue on Easter is a thing. Anyway, the playground was mobbed, and I usually don't step into Zadie's social stuff, but there was a crowd of bigger kids playing really rough, pushing, cussing, and she was just obliviously hanging out right behind them. I suggested she play elsewhere. Anyway, after that, she almost fell BIG-TIME. She was on a bridge that's about 5 feet off the ground. She was wearing sandals, and as she stepped onto the bridge, she slipped. Well, in the moment that it happened, I thought she was just going to land on her ass, but then she kind of twitched sideways and started to slide right off the play structure. She reached out her hand, grabbed the rail, and DID fall, but was hanging on so tightly with her hand that she just hung there. I was very close, so that probably lasted only a second or so, but in that time I saw that her body had sort of pulled her arm around into an odd angle. She was crying, but didn't seem to be hurt. She wanted to play again after a minute, so I let her.
Then we were playing in the sand. Several other kids were there when we walked over, and there was a little kerfuffle going on. A kid who was maybe almost 4 was yelling "It's OURS! It's OURS!" Another boy I had seen earlier with his mom was holding a toy shovel and looking confused. A small girl tried to yank the shovel from him, and he pulled back. She yelled at him, too, and the first boy yelled "Man, we hate people!" I looked around to see who was with these kids, and it didn't seem that anyone was. There were actually about five kids, all between three and six years old, yelling at the kid with the shovel. There was a little more pushing and pulling. No one stepped in, so finally I said to the main antagonist, "That's your shovel? You want it back? Why don't you try saying 'May I have the shovel back, please?'" She tried it, he dropped the shovel, and that was the end of it. The shovel boy's mom had been fairly nearby (she was preoccupied with a younger girl), and had only seen him pushing back, so she made him apologize. He had really been ganged up on, though.
Anyway, there was yet more playground drama! A few moments later, I heard a thunk (kids had been dropping off the bars) and then some crying. It didn't stop, and it sounded like pretty traumatized crying, so I looked. The girl was sitting on the ground and didn't seem to want to get up. I asked where her mom was, and she said she wasn't here. I asked who was with her, and she said her grandma. I asked her to point to her grandma so I could get her, but she wasn't on the playground. She was "way over there." She pointed across the park. Did I mention the park was packed? So I asked if any of the other kids on the playground were her cousins or anything, but they weren't. She was alone. Hopefully, I asked whether maybe she was better and wanted to go back to playing, but she didn't. I told her to wait, and I grabbed Z and we went off to look for her grandma. I knew the girl's name and the grandma's name, and I asked EVERY group of people in that park, but no one knew her. I ran into the other mom (shovel-boy's mom) on the way back, and she had gone counter-clockwise doing the same thing, to no avail. A woman whom I had talked to came to the playground and asked if we'd found the grandmother. She said she knew that sometimes people dropped their kids off when the playground was crowded, leaving them alone and hoping no one would notice. I wondered whether we should call the police, an ambulance, child protective services... I didn't think her elbow or arm were broken, but she was still cradling it and sniffling. I'd been gone a long time, and when I came back she was still sitting in the same spot; she couldn't get up because she couldn't put any weight on her arm.
Shovel-boy's mom asked the girl's mom's phone number, then called. It went to voice mail, so she left a message.
It turned out that two other mothers had also gone out looking for the grandmother, and finally someone found her (in an area I SWEAR I looked and asked around). Just then, the mother called back, but she spoke only Spanish, so the phone was passed off to a younger man (an uncle, I'd guess). They picked her up and walked her back to their barbecue. I'd say the girl was four or five.
I'm glad for a happy ending, but my gosh -- a five year old should really not be left unsupervised far from her family. After they left, three of us admitted to our fears about even helping -- one of my first thoughts was to help the girl up and walk her to her family, but what if someone saw me walking with this girl, and we happened to be heading in the wrong direction? And what if she HAD been really hurt? How long did she have to wait before getting help? Why did she have to rely on strangers?
I try not to be a "helicopter mom," and I let Zadie play. It was only out of sheer luck that I was so close by when she fell -- not long before that I'd been sitting on a bench. But I have a hard time imagining letting such a young child out of my sight -- out of ANYONE'S sight -- for so long. Would I trust her with a family member, even an older child? Sure. But I want, most of the time, someone there who's looking out for her welfare. To young Miss A with the hurt elbow, I hope today was an aberration. I hope your family loves you as much as you deserve to be loved.
Sigh. Okay, so then we came home and got ready to go to Mom's. We had a lovely dinner, and it was especially nice to see them, as they've been gone for a week, and Zadie usually sees them almost every day. I made rolls (which got a little dry, boo!), and pie (which came out great, yay!). There was asparagus, salad, and scalloped potatoes, so I was in heaven. Obviously, it was nice to see the rest of my family on that side, too.
And now we are home and the house is quiet, and the egg mess is mostly cleaned up, and I have to go back to work tomorrow, and I think I need to stop taking my allergy medicine, because I simply can't get up in the morning when I take it, and there you are. I hope you had a lovely Easter, or as we like to call it, Zombie Jesus Day.
By the way -- I'm starting a new blog. I'll link up soon, but it's a cooking blog aimed at the novice home cook who wants to be a great home cook. I think I have some good ideas.
We cleaned up, had some down time, tried to take a nap (failed), and then went to the park to kill some time before dinner. The park was surprisingly crowded. I guess having a barbecue on Easter is a thing. Anyway, the playground was mobbed, and I usually don't step into Zadie's social stuff, but there was a crowd of bigger kids playing really rough, pushing, cussing, and she was just obliviously hanging out right behind them. I suggested she play elsewhere. Anyway, after that, she almost fell BIG-TIME. She was on a bridge that's about 5 feet off the ground. She was wearing sandals, and as she stepped onto the bridge, she slipped. Well, in the moment that it happened, I thought she was just going to land on her ass, but then she kind of twitched sideways and started to slide right off the play structure. She reached out her hand, grabbed the rail, and DID fall, but was hanging on so tightly with her hand that she just hung there. I was very close, so that probably lasted only a second or so, but in that time I saw that her body had sort of pulled her arm around into an odd angle. She was crying, but didn't seem to be hurt. She wanted to play again after a minute, so I let her.
Then we were playing in the sand. Several other kids were there when we walked over, and there was a little kerfuffle going on. A kid who was maybe almost 4 was yelling "It's OURS! It's OURS!" Another boy I had seen earlier with his mom was holding a toy shovel and looking confused. A small girl tried to yank the shovel from him, and he pulled back. She yelled at him, too, and the first boy yelled "Man, we hate people!" I looked around to see who was with these kids, and it didn't seem that anyone was. There were actually about five kids, all between three and six years old, yelling at the kid with the shovel. There was a little more pushing and pulling. No one stepped in, so finally I said to the main antagonist, "That's your shovel? You want it back? Why don't you try saying 'May I have the shovel back, please?'" She tried it, he dropped the shovel, and that was the end of it. The shovel boy's mom had been fairly nearby (she was preoccupied with a younger girl), and had only seen him pushing back, so she made him apologize. He had really been ganged up on, though.
Anyway, there was yet more playground drama! A few moments later, I heard a thunk (kids had been dropping off the bars) and then some crying. It didn't stop, and it sounded like pretty traumatized crying, so I looked. The girl was sitting on the ground and didn't seem to want to get up. I asked where her mom was, and she said she wasn't here. I asked who was with her, and she said her grandma. I asked her to point to her grandma so I could get her, but she wasn't on the playground. She was "way over there." She pointed across the park. Did I mention the park was packed? So I asked if any of the other kids on the playground were her cousins or anything, but they weren't. She was alone. Hopefully, I asked whether maybe she was better and wanted to go back to playing, but she didn't. I told her to wait, and I grabbed Z and we went off to look for her grandma. I knew the girl's name and the grandma's name, and I asked EVERY group of people in that park, but no one knew her. I ran into the other mom (shovel-boy's mom) on the way back, and she had gone counter-clockwise doing the same thing, to no avail. A woman whom I had talked to came to the playground and asked if we'd found the grandmother. She said she knew that sometimes people dropped their kids off when the playground was crowded, leaving them alone and hoping no one would notice. I wondered whether we should call the police, an ambulance, child protective services... I didn't think her elbow or arm were broken, but she was still cradling it and sniffling. I'd been gone a long time, and when I came back she was still sitting in the same spot; she couldn't get up because she couldn't put any weight on her arm.
Shovel-boy's mom asked the girl's mom's phone number, then called. It went to voice mail, so she left a message.
It turned out that two other mothers had also gone out looking for the grandmother, and finally someone found her (in an area I SWEAR I looked and asked around). Just then, the mother called back, but she spoke only Spanish, so the phone was passed off to a younger man (an uncle, I'd guess). They picked her up and walked her back to their barbecue. I'd say the girl was four or five.
I'm glad for a happy ending, but my gosh -- a five year old should really not be left unsupervised far from her family. After they left, three of us admitted to our fears about even helping -- one of my first thoughts was to help the girl up and walk her to her family, but what if someone saw me walking with this girl, and we happened to be heading in the wrong direction? And what if she HAD been really hurt? How long did she have to wait before getting help? Why did she have to rely on strangers?
I try not to be a "helicopter mom," and I let Zadie play. It was only out of sheer luck that I was so close by when she fell -- not long before that I'd been sitting on a bench. But I have a hard time imagining letting such a young child out of my sight -- out of ANYONE'S sight -- for so long. Would I trust her with a family member, even an older child? Sure. But I want, most of the time, someone there who's looking out for her welfare. To young Miss A with the hurt elbow, I hope today was an aberration. I hope your family loves you as much as you deserve to be loved.
Sigh. Okay, so then we came home and got ready to go to Mom's. We had a lovely dinner, and it was especially nice to see them, as they've been gone for a week, and Zadie usually sees them almost every day. I made rolls (which got a little dry, boo!), and pie (which came out great, yay!). There was asparagus, salad, and scalloped potatoes, so I was in heaven. Obviously, it was nice to see the rest of my family on that side, too.
And now we are home and the house is quiet, and the egg mess is mostly cleaned up, and I have to go back to work tomorrow, and I think I need to stop taking my allergy medicine, because I simply can't get up in the morning when I take it, and there you are. I hope you had a lovely Easter, or as we like to call it, Zombie Jesus Day.
By the way -- I'm starting a new blog. I'll link up soon, but it's a cooking blog aimed at the novice home cook who wants to be a great home cook. I think I have some good ideas.
Friday, April 22, 2011
New music challenge!
It's movie music! Yeah, I'm excited. I can't decide which direction to go. I could start with musicals...
Actually, as much as I like "America," I just searched for and started listening to "A Boy Like That." It's one of the most passionate scenes in that whole film. "No, Anita, no!"
Or I could go with great movie scores...
Or music that was integral to the movie...
(Ugh, there's something in my eye.)
Go with a mockumentary theme for fun...
And there are so many soundtracks I used to love: Doom Generation, Tank Girl, Pump up the Volume, The Crow, Cool World, Natural Born Killers... It's hard to know which direction to take. And right after I post this and crawl in bed, I fully expect to have my brain go "Hey dummy! What about Rushmore? What about The Royal Tenenbaums? What about The Wedding Singer?"
And so forth.
Actually, as much as I like "America," I just searched for and started listening to "A Boy Like That." It's one of the most passionate scenes in that whole film. "No, Anita, no!"
Or I could go with great movie scores...
Or music that was integral to the movie...
(Ugh, there's something in my eye.)
Go with a mockumentary theme for fun...
And there are so many soundtracks I used to love: Doom Generation, Tank Girl, Pump up the Volume, The Crow, Cool World, Natural Born Killers... It's hard to know which direction to take. And right after I post this and crawl in bed, I fully expect to have my brain go "Hey dummy! What about Rushmore? What about The Royal Tenenbaums? What about The Wedding Singer?"
And so forth.
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Blogging under the influence
Just upfront: I took a prescription allergy pill twenty minutes ago (at 8:10), so if this gets weird toward the end (or weirder than usual), you'll know why. My doctor recommended taking them right before bed, because they make you super-groggy, but I find that I'm way too tired in the morning to get up and go to the gym, so we're going to try this.
Monday we didn't do a heckuva lot, but we did go visit my grandma, and got a Granny Bonanza! Not only did I get some vintage clothes that were the stated purpose of the visit, but she mentioned she had kumquats. Sweetie and I both love them, so I said I'd take some off her hands and make marmalade. Well, when she heard that she asked if I wanted jars, too. She had a box-and-a-half of canning jars! Jars are one of the most expensive parts of the canning process (I mean, unless you're canning Goldberries or something), so that was a boon. And she ended up giving us 8.5 pounds of kumquats! I'm going to have to use them fast.
We spent most of Monday morning at Bertha Henschel park, which was nice as there were about 20 other kids there to play with. It was lovely weather.
I have been on a cooking spree. I did make one batch of kumquat marmalade, and I made another of strawberry marmalade. I also made a kiwi jam. They're all good in different ways. The kumquat marmalade didn't gel much, so it's more like a syrup -- but the world's best syrup.
I also made pancakes this morning, Portuguese chickpea soup Monday, bread Sunday, dough for more bread today, cookie dough for Easter sugar cookies today, and enough pie dough for four crusts. I'l be making rolls and pie for Easter dinner, so I'm doing a little prep work.
Yesterday we did something a bit odd. I took Z to Harbin Hot Springs, which sounds just fine and dandy until you realize that it's clothing-optional, and most people opt out. I warned her ahead of time that there would be adult strangers there without clothes on, and asked if it would be okay with her. She said, "Oh yeah... I'll make friends with the adult strangers." If you're familiar with the old Bob Newhart show, you can imagine his voice coming out of me as I said, "That... th... that was not the.. the message I wanted you to take away."
Anyway, there's a pool that's kids-only, so of course we were in there and didn't really run into many other adults. We soaked a bit, then sunned a bit, then got into hiking clothes (a skirt for her, naturally) and went for a walk.
(There's something I love about the confidence of her stride.)
We saw deer. For about a minute, I got her to crouch quietly next to me as they approached. At one point, she took a deep breath and reared back, probably to yell "HEY DEER!" I shushed her, and she stayed quiet. But then she couldn't help trying to get closer. They let her for several paces, then started to scatter.
We also saw a lizard and a dead snake, plus three semi-squished centipedes (huge ones!), but Zadie's favorite thing that we saw was a pop-up camper van.
You're not supposed to take pictures there, but no one was around at this little spot.
Then we went and had lunch at the little market. I am sure people's tastes vary, but I am not thrilled with the food selection in the market or the little cafe, and the restaurant isn't open for lunch. The Poolside Cafe is AWESOME, but is only open during the summer months. Finally we went and soaked a bit more, then went to rest on one of the sun decks. As we sat, a man with long hair approached. I saw him first, and as he passed, Zadie noticed.
"That girl doesn't have hair on her butt yet."
"Shh. We don't talk about people's bodies."
"Or maybe it's a boy."
"I think it is a boy, but we don't talk about other people's bodies."
"Yeah, I think it is a boy, because I saw his penis."
Good mom for letting her see a range of natural body types and not being freaked out by human nudity, or bad mom for letting her see a stranger's penis? Only time and therapy will tell.
She fell asleep the instant we got in the car, so we didn't stop at Taylor's Refresher (more's the pity), but I promised her Burr's after dinner, and so we went.
Harbin was a fun day, and she keeps asking to go back, but for $45 (not including lunch and gas), it was a pretty expensive pool dip/nature hike. We could just go to Sutter's Landing park and the gym and be ahead $50.
Today was less spectacular, but actually a lot of fun. I made pancakes, which she ate her weight in, and then we got ready for a playdate. I follow a blog for neighborhood parents, and there was a free thing at a new "dance academy." Zadie always talks about dance, but ballet wasn't really a good fit for her, at least last year, so I thought this would be a good opportunity to check the place out. It was funny -- the woman was sickly sweet, the tunes were Disney, the place was largely lavender, and Zadie LOVED IT. But you know, I can put aside my... whatever... because she loved it so much. There was a tiny bit of hip-hop, a lot of props, a chasse or two, some stretching, but she kept it constantly moving, really had the kids involved, made it fun, and had great control over the classroom. Zadie actually paid WAY more attention than she ever did at either ballet or soccer, and was involved and following instructions pretty much for the whole hour, which is stellar for her. I might suck it up and pay for classes, as there is one on Saturday mornings that's similar to the playdate class today.
I feel a bit like those weekend dads you used to hear about, who felt so guilty for not spending time with their kids that when they did, they tried to make it really spectacular time, like Disneyland. I know I could spend this week just going to the park, reading books, and taking walks around the block and she'd be happy, but I feel so awful for seeing her for only a few hours a day most days that I really feel like I want to make this time off special. So anyway, don't be surprised if there are zoo pictures or something. You can count on egg-dying and cookie-making.
Monday we didn't do a heckuva lot, but we did go visit my grandma, and got a Granny Bonanza! Not only did I get some vintage clothes that were the stated purpose of the visit, but she mentioned she had kumquats. Sweetie and I both love them, so I said I'd take some off her hands and make marmalade. Well, when she heard that she asked if I wanted jars, too. She had a box-and-a-half of canning jars! Jars are one of the most expensive parts of the canning process (I mean, unless you're canning Goldberries or something), so that was a boon. And she ended up giving us 8.5 pounds of kumquats! I'm going to have to use them fast.
We spent most of Monday morning at Bertha Henschel park, which was nice as there were about 20 other kids there to play with. It was lovely weather.
I have been on a cooking spree. I did make one batch of kumquat marmalade, and I made another of strawberry marmalade. I also made a kiwi jam. They're all good in different ways. The kumquat marmalade didn't gel much, so it's more like a syrup -- but the world's best syrup.
I also made pancakes this morning, Portuguese chickpea soup Monday, bread Sunday, dough for more bread today, cookie dough for Easter sugar cookies today, and enough pie dough for four crusts. I'l be making rolls and pie for Easter dinner, so I'm doing a little prep work.
Yesterday we did something a bit odd. I took Z to Harbin Hot Springs, which sounds just fine and dandy until you realize that it's clothing-optional, and most people opt out. I warned her ahead of time that there would be adult strangers there without clothes on, and asked if it would be okay with her. She said, "Oh yeah... I'll make friends with the adult strangers." If you're familiar with the old Bob Newhart show, you can imagine his voice coming out of me as I said, "That... th... that was not the.. the message I wanted you to take away."
Anyway, there's a pool that's kids-only, so of course we were in there and didn't really run into many other adults. We soaked a bit, then sunned a bit, then got into hiking clothes (a skirt for her, naturally) and went for a walk.
(There's something I love about the confidence of her stride.)
We saw deer. For about a minute, I got her to crouch quietly next to me as they approached. At one point, she took a deep breath and reared back, probably to yell "HEY DEER!" I shushed her, and she stayed quiet. But then she couldn't help trying to get closer. They let her for several paces, then started to scatter.
We also saw a lizard and a dead snake, plus three semi-squished centipedes (huge ones!), but Zadie's favorite thing that we saw was a pop-up camper van.
You're not supposed to take pictures there, but no one was around at this little spot.
Then we went and had lunch at the little market. I am sure people's tastes vary, but I am not thrilled with the food selection in the market or the little cafe, and the restaurant isn't open for lunch. The Poolside Cafe is AWESOME, but is only open during the summer months. Finally we went and soaked a bit more, then went to rest on one of the sun decks. As we sat, a man with long hair approached. I saw him first, and as he passed, Zadie noticed.
"That girl doesn't have hair on her butt yet."
"Shh. We don't talk about people's bodies."
"Or maybe it's a boy."
"I think it is a boy, but we don't talk about other people's bodies."
"Yeah, I think it is a boy, because I saw his penis."
Good mom for letting her see a range of natural body types and not being freaked out by human nudity, or bad mom for letting her see a stranger's penis? Only time and therapy will tell.
She fell asleep the instant we got in the car, so we didn't stop at Taylor's Refresher (more's the pity), but I promised her Burr's after dinner, and so we went.
Harbin was a fun day, and she keeps asking to go back, but for $45 (not including lunch and gas), it was a pretty expensive pool dip/nature hike. We could just go to Sutter's Landing park and the gym and be ahead $50.
Today was less spectacular, but actually a lot of fun. I made pancakes, which she ate her weight in, and then we got ready for a playdate. I follow a blog for neighborhood parents, and there was a free thing at a new "dance academy." Zadie always talks about dance, but ballet wasn't really a good fit for her, at least last year, so I thought this would be a good opportunity to check the place out. It was funny -- the woman was sickly sweet, the tunes were Disney, the place was largely lavender, and Zadie LOVED IT. But you know, I can put aside my... whatever... because she loved it so much. There was a tiny bit of hip-hop, a lot of props, a chasse or two, some stretching, but she kept it constantly moving, really had the kids involved, made it fun, and had great control over the classroom. Zadie actually paid WAY more attention than she ever did at either ballet or soccer, and was involved and following instructions pretty much for the whole hour, which is stellar for her. I might suck it up and pay for classes, as there is one on Saturday mornings that's similar to the playdate class today.
I feel a bit like those weekend dads you used to hear about, who felt so guilty for not spending time with their kids that when they did, they tried to make it really spectacular time, like Disneyland. I know I could spend this week just going to the park, reading books, and taking walks around the block and she'd be happy, but I feel so awful for seeing her for only a few hours a day most days that I really feel like I want to make this time off special. So anyway, don't be surprised if there are zoo pictures or something. You can count on egg-dying and cookie-making.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Bem-vindo a Portugal!
That's right; it's been about a month since Ireland week, and we're moving on to Portugal. This may actually prove to be one of our most challenging countries/cultures, as almost everything else we've studied has a restaurant, a cultural center, or something else to go see and do here. Not Portugal. Despite there being a fairly large Portuguese population in the Delta, most of what I found online is crab feeds and fundraising dinners, and it kind of looks like you have to already be a member.
Still, we do our best, right? Today I made a chickpea soup that was surprisingly simple, and the family really liked it. Zadie heaped on the praise, actually, and Sweetie, who has in the past eschewed chickpeas, suggested I make it again. It was just a broth with chickpeas, and then you add a mix of mint, parsley, garlic and olive oil. We also had some veggie chorizo, as I read that although it's not as popular linguica, it is nevertheless widely available in Portugal. Not the Mexican kind (where you squeeze the sausage out of the casing), but the Spanish kind (which is more like a Bratwurst).
I'll probably also print some coloring pages again, make a couple more dishes (sweet bread, figs with chocolate and almonds, and a bean and rice dish), and find some music to listen to.
Oh, and for the first time, I tried something just for myself -- a Portuguese wine called Vinho Verde. It's pleasant. Very summery.
Today was pretty lovely. We slept in (Zadie until almost 8!), then went to Orphan for breakfast, where I had the nicest poppyseed, raspberry, and meyer lemon curd pancakes. Then we went to the farmer's market, swam for a while at the gym, and came home for lunch and a long nap. I made that dinner, and then made strawberry marmalade. I think it will be good, but quite sweet. Plus, the lemon rind in it is surprisingly tough. It seems that usually the rind is marmalade is toothsome, but not super-chewy.
Of course, sometimes those long maps lead to trouble getting to sleep, and this is one of those nights. It is now ten minutes to ten, and she is still periodically calling for me, asking me to adjust the lighting, whatever. Still, it was nice to have a nap.
Still, we do our best, right? Today I made a chickpea soup that was surprisingly simple, and the family really liked it. Zadie heaped on the praise, actually, and Sweetie, who has in the past eschewed chickpeas, suggested I make it again. It was just a broth with chickpeas, and then you add a mix of mint, parsley, garlic and olive oil. We also had some veggie chorizo, as I read that although it's not as popular linguica, it is nevertheless widely available in Portugal. Not the Mexican kind (where you squeeze the sausage out of the casing), but the Spanish kind (which is more like a Bratwurst).
I'll probably also print some coloring pages again, make a couple more dishes (sweet bread, figs with chocolate and almonds, and a bean and rice dish), and find some music to listen to.
Oh, and for the first time, I tried something just for myself -- a Portuguese wine called Vinho Verde. It's pleasant. Very summery.
Today was pretty lovely. We slept in (Zadie until almost 8!), then went to Orphan for breakfast, where I had the nicest poppyseed, raspberry, and meyer lemon curd pancakes. Then we went to the farmer's market, swam for a while at the gym, and came home for lunch and a long nap. I made that dinner, and then made strawberry marmalade. I think it will be good, but quite sweet. Plus, the lemon rind in it is surprisingly tough. It seems that usually the rind is marmalade is toothsome, but not super-chewy.
Of course, sometimes those long maps lead to trouble getting to sleep, and this is one of those nights. It is now ten minutes to ten, and she is still periodically calling for me, asking me to adjust the lighting, whatever. Still, it was nice to have a nap.
Saturday, April 16, 2011
With the curtains up
IMG_3040
Originally uploaded by Mrs. Piggs
I also removed a big toy chest that had outlived its usefulness (it was really deep, so worked great for me to pull stuffed animals out of, but now that she's into smaller stuff and is more interested in getting it herself, I put the toys in shallow drawers in her closet). I like how it looks now, although ultimately, I'd like to get rid of the metal bins, too (one is a laundry hamper, the other's strictly for diapers).
Make me one with everything.*
So, what have I been up to? A little of everything.
Monday: I observed the election ballot-counting of my union. It was educational. I think last year there was a huge concern about malfeasance on the part of the elections committee, but in fact, it seems that a lot of the problems lie with people who just can't figure out the rules and do stuff wrong.
Tuesday: Sweetie got an award! I flew over to his place of employment from work and enjoyed watching his introduction and his speech. He really deserves it, y'all -- it was for service to the institution, and I think you'd be hard pressed to find people who put more work into that. Then I flew back to school for Open House. Very few of my parents came (I have seniors -- the parents are pretty much done by that point), but it was still nice to be there with everyone.
Wednesday: nothing after school, but I did finish reading, proofreading, suggesting edits and responding to ALL my seniors' first drafts of their senior project research essay. Biggest common issue? They don't realize how obvious it is that they're plagiarizing. (Okay, actually, it's that I'm not sure they even realize they're plagiarizing, but whatever.)
Thursday: Union meeting. Surprisingly, this was the least-contentious and least-stressful one I've been to in a while.
Friday: This was the day of our school's annual edu-fun festival. Normally we study a culture, but this year we made it an environmental festival. There was some dissent as to whether we should be celebrating and studying the current conservationist movement or the history of counter-culture (i.e., hippies). I was for the former, but the guy who does most of the work was for the latter, so we went with it. He is learning to delegate (and he should), but I got delegated the task of arranging speakers. Now, I have probably never mentioned, because I don't usually brag here (at least I hope not!) that I scored hecka high on the logic portion of the GRE. Higher even than I scored in English, and I wasn't too shabby there, either. (For balance, I proved myself utterly inept at math.) Anyway, the questions are always like, "There's a flower show. Daisies are never available on Wednesdays, and Tuesdays must be roses unless tulips are shown on the prior day. Sunflowers must follow orchids." And so on, and you have to figure out what you can make work. Well, arranging speakers for 15 teachers, some of whom move from classroom to classroom, some of whom are on prep one of the three periods, some of whom never respond to their goddamn emails, etc. is rather like one of those logic problems, except that instead of assuming you have the daisies to begin with, you have to cold-call SMUD to beg them for some (er, speakers, that is). Good thing I'm good at it, I guess.
It was funny, because I did end up having to make a few last minute adjustments, run (twice) across campus to try to get a camera, text one teacher to tell her to change the location of her class and stuff like that, but it more or less went off without a hitch. I scheduled the boringest-sounding guy for my room, and instead he was incredibly engaging, and I feel like I understand nuclear reactors way better than I did a couple days ago.
I had also suggested a vegetarian lunch because of the lower carbon footprint, and the kids were skeptical. But on the occasion, they LOVED it. Several spontaneously came into my room with a Boca burger and asked, "Have you had one of these? They're delicious!" We also had veggie skewers, fruit kebabs, and a salad bar. It ended up being the best lunch we've done. And the feedback I got on the rest of the speakers was that they were all really successful and engaging.
So in short, it's been a motherfucking busy week. All three of us took a nap yesterday afternoon, and I felt refreshed and relieved as I haven't in weeks when I awoke.
I finally hung those infernal curtains. I think they're crooked, but you can't tell unless you're really looking. I finally called my grandma. I finally put in some plants (18 of them). I have stuff I want to do this week, but not that much, really. Perhaps a brunch date. Make a couple pies. Host an Easter egg hunt for the kids on the block. But it's all fun stuff, not stressful. Of course, you know how I am -- my Easter egg hunt has already, in my head, turned into "Maybe I can have prizes! Maybe I should bake Easter cookies! Maybe I'll have mimosas out for the adults! That would be a good morning to make Portuguese sweet bread! Or pecan sticky rolls! Or both!"
I'm breaking out in hives again. Oddly, it's almost the exact same time of year and situation as last year: I had just used up one jar of moisturizer and bought a second. I'm thinking maybe it isn't the moisturizer at all, but something seasonal. I wouldn't mention it but they itch like crazy! I'm trying not to scratch because it makes it worse, so if you see me walking around gently slapping my own cheeks like a crackhead, you'll know why.
As if to out-do me, Z has enormous hives, about the size of a quarter each, on her arm and leg. We've all been outdoors a lot gardening and enjoying the nice weather, so I'm not sure what it is, but we're both taking allergy medicine.
The title of today's post is based on a silly joke. What did the Buddhist monk say to the hot dog vendor? It appealed to me, because if you asked what I'd been doing this week, the only real appropriate answer might be "a little of everything."
I hope you're all well. Zadie said to me tonight, "I'm glad you're my mom, and I'm glad you don't have to go to work." That pretty much sums it up for me, too.
Monday: I observed the election ballot-counting of my union. It was educational. I think last year there was a huge concern about malfeasance on the part of the elections committee, but in fact, it seems that a lot of the problems lie with people who just can't figure out the rules and do stuff wrong.
Tuesday: Sweetie got an award! I flew over to his place of employment from work and enjoyed watching his introduction and his speech. He really deserves it, y'all -- it was for service to the institution, and I think you'd be hard pressed to find people who put more work into that. Then I flew back to school for Open House. Very few of my parents came (I have seniors -- the parents are pretty much done by that point), but it was still nice to be there with everyone.
Wednesday: nothing after school, but I did finish reading, proofreading, suggesting edits and responding to ALL my seniors' first drafts of their senior project research essay. Biggest common issue? They don't realize how obvious it is that they're plagiarizing. (Okay, actually, it's that I'm not sure they even realize they're plagiarizing, but whatever.)
Thursday: Union meeting. Surprisingly, this was the least-contentious and least-stressful one I've been to in a while.
Friday: This was the day of our school's annual edu-fun festival. Normally we study a culture, but this year we made it an environmental festival. There was some dissent as to whether we should be celebrating and studying the current conservationist movement or the history of counter-culture (i.e., hippies). I was for the former, but the guy who does most of the work was for the latter, so we went with it. He is learning to delegate (and he should), but I got delegated the task of arranging speakers. Now, I have probably never mentioned, because I don't usually brag here (at least I hope not!) that I scored hecka high on the logic portion of the GRE. Higher even than I scored in English, and I wasn't too shabby there, either. (For balance, I proved myself utterly inept at math.) Anyway, the questions are always like, "There's a flower show. Daisies are never available on Wednesdays, and Tuesdays must be roses unless tulips are shown on the prior day. Sunflowers must follow orchids." And so on, and you have to figure out what you can make work. Well, arranging speakers for 15 teachers, some of whom move from classroom to classroom, some of whom are on prep one of the three periods, some of whom never respond to their goddamn emails, etc. is rather like one of those logic problems, except that instead of assuming you have the daisies to begin with, you have to cold-call SMUD to beg them for some (er, speakers, that is). Good thing I'm good at it, I guess.
It was funny, because I did end up having to make a few last minute adjustments, run (twice) across campus to try to get a camera, text one teacher to tell her to change the location of her class and stuff like that, but it more or less went off without a hitch. I scheduled the boringest-sounding guy for my room, and instead he was incredibly engaging, and I feel like I understand nuclear reactors way better than I did a couple days ago.
I had also suggested a vegetarian lunch because of the lower carbon footprint, and the kids were skeptical. But on the occasion, they LOVED it. Several spontaneously came into my room with a Boca burger and asked, "Have you had one of these? They're delicious!" We also had veggie skewers, fruit kebabs, and a salad bar. It ended up being the best lunch we've done. And the feedback I got on the rest of the speakers was that they were all really successful and engaging.
So in short, it's been a motherfucking busy week. All three of us took a nap yesterday afternoon, and I felt refreshed and relieved as I haven't in weeks when I awoke.
I finally hung those infernal curtains. I think they're crooked, but you can't tell unless you're really looking. I finally called my grandma. I finally put in some plants (18 of them). I have stuff I want to do this week, but not that much, really. Perhaps a brunch date. Make a couple pies. Host an Easter egg hunt for the kids on the block. But it's all fun stuff, not stressful. Of course, you know how I am -- my Easter egg hunt has already, in my head, turned into "Maybe I can have prizes! Maybe I should bake Easter cookies! Maybe I'll have mimosas out for the adults! That would be a good morning to make Portuguese sweet bread! Or pecan sticky rolls! Or both!"
I'm breaking out in hives again. Oddly, it's almost the exact same time of year and situation as last year: I had just used up one jar of moisturizer and bought a second. I'm thinking maybe it isn't the moisturizer at all, but something seasonal. I wouldn't mention it but they itch like crazy! I'm trying not to scratch because it makes it worse, so if you see me walking around gently slapping my own cheeks like a crackhead, you'll know why.
As if to out-do me, Z has enormous hives, about the size of a quarter each, on her arm and leg. We've all been outdoors a lot gardening and enjoying the nice weather, so I'm not sure what it is, but we're both taking allergy medicine.
The title of today's post is based on a silly joke. What did the Buddhist monk say to the hot dog vendor? It appealed to me, because if you asked what I'd been doing this week, the only real appropriate answer might be "a little of everything."
I hope you're all well. Zadie said to me tonight, "I'm glad you're my mom, and I'm glad you don't have to go to work." That pretty much sums it up for me, too.
Saturday, April 09, 2011
Catch-up
Hi all,
Well, I never really told you how I was after my Tuesday (?) freak-out. I'm fine. I suspect that if you know me well, you could have figured that out. I did have some chocolate and a glass of wine and I did some reading and some writing. Then I rescheduled a thing, changed my mind about a thing, decided to let a thing or two go and brush a thing or two off, and here we are.
I could be at Prom right now, but that's a thing I brushed off, so instead I'm baking cookies. Can I just tell you that I don't mean this in a pompous way, but I think the cookies I make are better than 99% of the other cookies I have ever tasted anywhere? I'm looking at you, Pacific Cookie Company... I mean really, I know that part of it is nostalgia (I make a lot of cookies that my mom used to make when I was a kid) and some of it is that I make what I like (no linzer whatevers here), and another part of it is that they're hot and fresh from the oven, but EVEN SO, I really think I make the second best cookies in the world, next to my mom.
This has been a pretty awesome* Saturday. I slept until 6:30, and was not awakened by the kid (it doesn't sound like much, but that's an hour later than usual). Then I had a brilliant cup of coffee and a breakfast of homemade whole wheat bread with homemade nectarine-plum jam and a slice of cheese from the farmer's market. Soon, I got down to the business of cleaning, and after that, went to get my eyebrows waxed, at which time I also got a mini-facial.
Once home, we had a little lunch, then I went outside and invited the family to join me. I cleaned off our patio furniture, took out the winter garden, removed a horrid little tree stub, picked lemons, turned compost and dreamed a little of what I want to do back there. Sweetie helped a lot and Z mostly played.
I came inside and finally hung those curtains I've had for... 2 months? Anyway, the panels themselves still need to be hemmed, but I got the rods installed, so that's a start.
Then we went grocery shopping and to Target**, and then home for dinner. We had veggie burgers and sweet potato fries.
Saturdays are awesome. Ach!
Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't been blogging much. I even briefly considered doing another blog-a-day month for April, but honestly, I've just got my mind in a different place right now. I'm trying hard to not let the house get too untidy, so I'm folding laundry at least a couple nights a week, which is not a multi-tasking activity. Also, since I joined my writing group, I feel like if I show up I HAVE to have something new, so I'm trying to set aside at least a few nights a week for writing. It's going pretty well. I mean, I don't see anything I've written headed for the pages of the New Yorker, but I'm happy with quite a bit of it, and I'm exploring the idea of having some minor ambitions.
You know how some people seem to pride themselves on how little sleep they get/need? I'm not one of those people. If I had no obligations or interruptions, I would definitely sleep for 9 hours every night. And since I've been getting up at 5:30, I need to make a concerted effort to get to bed by 10. Even when I do, I often find myself reading until 10:30, and 7 hours is just not really enough for me. So I'm not staying up late to blog because, well, I need my sleep!
Okay, other stuff from this week: I changed up my bread recipe, and it was better than ever. I'm going to make even more changes to see whether I can make it exactly how I like it -- light and airy, with a crunchy, chewy crust.
It was spirit week at school, so I went ahead and did crazy hair day, twins day (quints, actually - we found four other teachers all willing to wear the same thing), beauty and the geek day (I wore my Tetris earrings), little kid day (Saltwater sandals and a bracelet I've had since I was a kid -- I tried), and pink for girls/black for boys day. I wore the pinkest thing I could find, a salwar kameez in Pepto pink, so I was covered from neck to ankle and wrist with BRIGHT pink.
Zadie decided she likes Debbie Harry. I couldn't be prouder of the girl who is destined to be a social reject in school.
*I discovered some web sites*** that will turn your blog entries into word clouds with your most-used words biggest, and now I am always self-conscious that they might have "I" "Me" and "AWESOME" in 36 point font.
**Yes, I am still boycotting Target... mostly. But we got two of the same outfit for Zadie's birthday, so I returned it, and while we were there... I bought stuff. Ugh, I hate myself, but also they have cute clothes.
***One is Wordle. Today's post's biggest words are thing, make, got, and cookies. Really is also fairly big. This does not serve to make me feel like an interesting, unique writer.
Well, I never really told you how I was after my Tuesday (?) freak-out. I'm fine. I suspect that if you know me well, you could have figured that out. I did have some chocolate and a glass of wine and I did some reading and some writing. Then I rescheduled a thing, changed my mind about a thing, decided to let a thing or two go and brush a thing or two off, and here we are.
I could be at Prom right now, but that's a thing I brushed off, so instead I'm baking cookies. Can I just tell you that I don't mean this in a pompous way, but I think the cookies I make are better than 99% of the other cookies I have ever tasted anywhere? I'm looking at you, Pacific Cookie Company... I mean really, I know that part of it is nostalgia (I make a lot of cookies that my mom used to make when I was a kid) and some of it is that I make what I like (no linzer whatevers here), and another part of it is that they're hot and fresh from the oven, but EVEN SO, I really think I make the second best cookies in the world, next to my mom.
This has been a pretty awesome* Saturday. I slept until 6:30, and was not awakened by the kid (it doesn't sound like much, but that's an hour later than usual). Then I had a brilliant cup of coffee and a breakfast of homemade whole wheat bread with homemade nectarine-plum jam and a slice of cheese from the farmer's market. Soon, I got down to the business of cleaning, and after that, went to get my eyebrows waxed, at which time I also got a mini-facial.
Once home, we had a little lunch, then I went outside and invited the family to join me. I cleaned off our patio furniture, took out the winter garden, removed a horrid little tree stub, picked lemons, turned compost and dreamed a little of what I want to do back there. Sweetie helped a lot and Z mostly played.
I came inside and finally hung those curtains I've had for... 2 months? Anyway, the panels themselves still need to be hemmed, but I got the rods installed, so that's a start.
Then we went grocery shopping and to Target**, and then home for dinner. We had veggie burgers and sweet potato fries.
Saturdays are awesome. Ach!
Anyway, I'm sorry I haven't been blogging much. I even briefly considered doing another blog-a-day month for April, but honestly, I've just got my mind in a different place right now. I'm trying hard to not let the house get too untidy, so I'm folding laundry at least a couple nights a week, which is not a multi-tasking activity. Also, since I joined my writing group, I feel like if I show up I HAVE to have something new, so I'm trying to set aside at least a few nights a week for writing. It's going pretty well. I mean, I don't see anything I've written headed for the pages of the New Yorker, but I'm happy with quite a bit of it, and I'm exploring the idea of having some minor ambitions.
You know how some people seem to pride themselves on how little sleep they get/need? I'm not one of those people. If I had no obligations or interruptions, I would definitely sleep for 9 hours every night. And since I've been getting up at 5:30, I need to make a concerted effort to get to bed by 10. Even when I do, I often find myself reading until 10:30, and 7 hours is just not really enough for me. So I'm not staying up late to blog because, well, I need my sleep!
Okay, other stuff from this week: I changed up my bread recipe, and it was better than ever. I'm going to make even more changes to see whether I can make it exactly how I like it -- light and airy, with a crunchy, chewy crust.
It was spirit week at school, so I went ahead and did crazy hair day, twins day (quints, actually - we found four other teachers all willing to wear the same thing), beauty and the geek day (I wore my Tetris earrings), little kid day (Saltwater sandals and a bracelet I've had since I was a kid -- I tried), and pink for girls/black for boys day. I wore the pinkest thing I could find, a salwar kameez in Pepto pink, so I was covered from neck to ankle and wrist with BRIGHT pink.
Zadie decided she likes Debbie Harry. I couldn't be prouder of the girl who is destined to be a social reject in school.
*I discovered some web sites*** that will turn your blog entries into word clouds with your most-used words biggest, and now I am always self-conscious that they might have "I" "Me" and "AWESOME" in 36 point font.
**Yes, I am still boycotting Target... mostly. But we got two of the same outfit for Zadie's birthday, so I returned it, and while we were there... I bought stuff. Ugh, I hate myself, but also they have cute clothes.
***One is Wordle. Today's post's biggest words are thing, make, got, and cookies. Really is also fairly big. This does not serve to make me feel like an interesting, unique writer.
Tuesday, April 05, 2011
A vent, as brief as I can make it.
Senior project sucks. Also, can't get computers about 2 days a week. Not much to do without them.
IB exams are coming. You can never have prepared the kids enough. Scores reflect on me.
Spring festival is next week. Last Fall, like a dummy, I agreed to arrange all the guest speakers. Why?
Senior project comes with another planning nightmare -- presentation night. All I have to do is file a building permit, get all the kids' projects online, arrange judges, invite families, have a social get-together beforehand, arrange juniors to attend and help, copy the judging forms, hold a meeting for judges... what am I missing?
I've been having the IB kids write papers once a week. There are 35 students. I'm up to my ass in papers to grade.
It's union elections week, and though I hemmed and hawed about whether I'd agree to watch over the ballot-counting, the person who asked me announced that I'd do it.
Oh yeah, and I'm holding the elections at lunchtime all week.
If it wasn't just being busy and having work stuff sort of overwhelm me, I might be fine. But I'm also having a lot of emotional/social stuff going on.
One of my friends and colleagues has gone from pleasantly enthusiastic to hyper-manic over the course of the last few years. I need to talk to him. I think something's really wrong. Also, there is a possibility that I have some baggage about manic behavior.
I offended someone last week over a missed communication, and it was totally my fault. I apologized and explained but her reply was still terse.
I am navigating a social situation that's not entirely mine. A few people don't like another person much, and I try to stand up for the latter person. I'm friends with the few, and the latter had been left out of a couple events. One of the few had said she would communicate with the latter about it, but she hadn't. I reminded her that she said she would, and she apparently did, today. Whatever transpired between them left the latter clearly hurt and upset, and she left a handwritten note of apology on my desk for being "a nuisance," "inappropriate," putting me on the spot, pressuring me, and being "a bother, hassle, or source of discomfort." Also, for "intrusions and interferences with [my] world or disruptions of peace." I have never been anything but kind, straightforward, and honest with her, but you can tell from the excerpts there that it was a big deal to her, that something got communicated wrong, and that I was part of the authorship of her hurt feelings. Also, it sure sounds possible that someone I like and count among my friends was mean.
In the last four days, I've also been told really nice things by three different co-workers, but it's hard to believe when I keep messing things up.
I think the social stuff kind of puts me over the stress edge partly because I'm usually really good at it. I don't generally annoy or offend people, I make friends easily, I don't get into fights with people... In fact, two of the compliments I got were of that nature -- that I'm so approachable, good with people, and easy to get along with. It's when you suck at the things you're supposed to be good at that it really gets to you, right?
Oh yeah, and I have a very sore throat.
A bicycle ride may be in order tonight. Also, chocolate.
IB exams are coming. You can never have prepared the kids enough. Scores reflect on me.
Spring festival is next week. Last Fall, like a dummy, I agreed to arrange all the guest speakers. Why?
Senior project comes with another planning nightmare -- presentation night. All I have to do is file a building permit, get all the kids' projects online, arrange judges, invite families, have a social get-together beforehand, arrange juniors to attend and help, copy the judging forms, hold a meeting for judges... what am I missing?
I've been having the IB kids write papers once a week. There are 35 students. I'm up to my ass in papers to grade.
It's union elections week, and though I hemmed and hawed about whether I'd agree to watch over the ballot-counting, the person who asked me announced that I'd do it.
Oh yeah, and I'm holding the elections at lunchtime all week.
If it wasn't just being busy and having work stuff sort of overwhelm me, I might be fine. But I'm also having a lot of emotional/social stuff going on.
One of my friends and colleagues has gone from pleasantly enthusiastic to hyper-manic over the course of the last few years. I need to talk to him. I think something's really wrong. Also, there is a possibility that I have some baggage about manic behavior.
I offended someone last week over a missed communication, and it was totally my fault. I apologized and explained but her reply was still terse.
I am navigating a social situation that's not entirely mine. A few people don't like another person much, and I try to stand up for the latter person. I'm friends with the few, and the latter had been left out of a couple events. One of the few had said she would communicate with the latter about it, but she hadn't. I reminded her that she said she would, and she apparently did, today. Whatever transpired between them left the latter clearly hurt and upset, and she left a handwritten note of apology on my desk for being "a nuisance," "inappropriate," putting me on the spot, pressuring me, and being "a bother, hassle, or source of discomfort." Also, for "intrusions and interferences with [my] world or disruptions of peace." I have never been anything but kind, straightforward, and honest with her, but you can tell from the excerpts there that it was a big deal to her, that something got communicated wrong, and that I was part of the authorship of her hurt feelings. Also, it sure sounds possible that someone I like and count among my friends was mean.
In the last four days, I've also been told really nice things by three different co-workers, but it's hard to believe when I keep messing things up.
I think the social stuff kind of puts me over the stress edge partly because I'm usually really good at it. I don't generally annoy or offend people, I make friends easily, I don't get into fights with people... In fact, two of the compliments I got were of that nature -- that I'm so approachable, good with people, and easy to get along with. It's when you suck at the things you're supposed to be good at that it really gets to you, right?
Oh yeah, and I have a very sore throat.
A bicycle ride may be in order tonight. Also, chocolate.
Friday, April 01, 2011
The fight I didn't prevent
Yesterday I left my classroom between periods to go to the restroom. I hadn't gone very far when I saw a young lady in a white shirt walk up to another girl.
She smiled.
It was a weird smile.
By that I mean that she was smiling, but there was something about it that seemed tense or fake. I stopped and watched her. She had braces, and I noted that, as sometimes people's lips take on an odd shape due to braces.
She said, "So, what's going on?"
There was something odd about that, too. She was still smiling tightly. I looked around to get a feel for the crowd. The other girl did not appear scared or intimidated. No one was gathered. There was no posse of back-up girls waiting to see what happened. No one else was even looking.
Her tone of voice made me think she was rehearsing lines for a play. I don't know what I mean by that other than that it was insincere. It didn't at all sound like someone who was speaking naturally. It was too bright, too high. It reminded me of the worst actress in one of our high school plays, who used upspeak every time she introduced herself. Chipper: "I'm AnnaBeth Morton?" We were, in fact, only two doors down from a drama classroom.
I judged the crowd again. Only seconds had passed, but still, no one else seemed to notice.
I walked on.
When I came back a couple minutes later, there was an unnerving geometry to the crowd. There were clear arcs -- the outline of a circle. I looked around, and there was a campus monitor holding the other girl, whom I didn't at first recognize. He pointed. "I need HER. In the white shirt." I went to her, but another teacher already had her. There was blood all around her mouth. There was blood on her teeth around her braces. We took her into my room and had her get a drink of water.
The other teacher asked, "What happened?"
"I heard she was talking shit, so I confronted her."
"And she hit you?"
"No, I hit her."
"So you confronted her with your fist?"
Afterwards, I told my class (many of whom had seen the fight) that I thought something was wrong, but I didn't stop it. One student said he had even noticed me stop and watch the girls. They assured me that it didn't start until I had been gone for a minute. The other teacher told me I couldn't have or shouldn't have intervened because someone was "smiling weird." "What were you going to say? -- 'Come here, you have a weird smile?'"
But I could have, I think. My instincts were right. I should have followed them.
She smiled.
It was a weird smile.
By that I mean that she was smiling, but there was something about it that seemed tense or fake. I stopped and watched her. She had braces, and I noted that, as sometimes people's lips take on an odd shape due to braces.
She said, "So, what's going on?"
There was something odd about that, too. She was still smiling tightly. I looked around to get a feel for the crowd. The other girl did not appear scared or intimidated. No one was gathered. There was no posse of back-up girls waiting to see what happened. No one else was even looking.
Her tone of voice made me think she was rehearsing lines for a play. I don't know what I mean by that other than that it was insincere. It didn't at all sound like someone who was speaking naturally. It was too bright, too high. It reminded me of the worst actress in one of our high school plays, who used upspeak every time she introduced herself. Chipper: "I'm AnnaBeth Morton?" We were, in fact, only two doors down from a drama classroom.
I judged the crowd again. Only seconds had passed, but still, no one else seemed to notice.
I walked on.
When I came back a couple minutes later, there was an unnerving geometry to the crowd. There were clear arcs -- the outline of a circle. I looked around, and there was a campus monitor holding the other girl, whom I didn't at first recognize. He pointed. "I need HER. In the white shirt." I went to her, but another teacher already had her. There was blood all around her mouth. There was blood on her teeth around her braces. We took her into my room and had her get a drink of water.
The other teacher asked, "What happened?"
"I heard she was talking shit, so I confronted her."
"And she hit you?"
"No, I hit her."
"So you confronted her with your fist?"
Afterwards, I told my class (many of whom had seen the fight) that I thought something was wrong, but I didn't stop it. One student said he had even noticed me stop and watch the girls. They assured me that it didn't start until I had been gone for a minute. The other teacher told me I couldn't have or shouldn't have intervened because someone was "smiling weird." "What were you going to say? -- 'Come here, you have a weird smile?'"
But I could have, I think. My instincts were right. I should have followed them.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Zadie's "field trip."
I asked Zadie if she was playing in a mud puddle and she replied, "Unh uh. I'm not 'playing.'" A few minutes later she was even deeper in, and I wondered if she would still deny playing in the mud. Not only does she, but she spins a pretty fabulous tale about a field trip taken by ship.
Monday, March 28, 2011
When to go ahead and say it and when not to.
As Zadie gets more and more social and conversational, we sometimes hit minefields. What should we teach her not to say? What is okay to say? And how can I get her to avoid talking to missionaries?
I mentioned that we went to the Old Spaghetti Factory on Friday night. Zadie really wanted to sit in the train car, but it was a long, long wait, so we took another table. As it dawned on her what was happening (we were passing the train car and going to another table), she started to wail like she has never done before. Okay, maybe not "never before," but it was a big'un. As we sat down, she fixed her gaze on the hostess and calmed her tears long enough to say "You've really disappointed me." The poor hostess looked absolutely stricken, but on the bright side, we had a train car table within about 40 seconds!
In the doctor's office, Zadie was as talkative as usual. She also drew a picture on a small chalkboard. (I posted this on Facebook, but it's worth repeating: I asked her what the drawing was, and she said "It's for my DOCTOR, Dr. Wilson, and it's a sun. And now I'm erasing it with THE MAGIC OF MY FINGERS!") Anyway, It happens that Dr. Wilson is African American. After we'd been talking with her for a long time, Zadie pointed out "Your skin is DARK BROWN! And mine is LIGHT WHITE." Dr. Wilson took it in stride and held her arm out so they could compare. I decided that was totally okay, and I'd keep my big nose out of it.
I go out with Mom every Sunday, and sometimes Zadie doesn't want to go in right away, so we let her play in the car and we sit and talk a bit more. Yesterday, two young men in suits came down the street. Despite our studious efforts to avoid their gazes, they did approach the car. They asked if they could talk to us for a minute, and Mom said we weren't interested. One flashed a picture of Jesus like a badge and said "It's about Jesus." "Oh, we know who he is. He sounds like a cool guy, but we're not into it. Thanks, though." They left and walked down the street. However, soon they had turned around and were doing the other side. As they got to the house across the street from ours, Zadie leaned way out the window and yelled. "Hi!! Hi!!! It's my birthday! I'm three! You guys look nice!" Mom and I were cracking up.
I mentioned that we went to the Old Spaghetti Factory on Friday night. Zadie really wanted to sit in the train car, but it was a long, long wait, so we took another table. As it dawned on her what was happening (we were passing the train car and going to another table), she started to wail like she has never done before. Okay, maybe not "never before," but it was a big'un. As we sat down, she fixed her gaze on the hostess and calmed her tears long enough to say "You've really disappointed me." The poor hostess looked absolutely stricken, but on the bright side, we had a train car table within about 40 seconds!
In the doctor's office, Zadie was as talkative as usual. She also drew a picture on a small chalkboard. (I posted this on Facebook, but it's worth repeating: I asked her what the drawing was, and she said "It's for my DOCTOR, Dr. Wilson, and it's a sun. And now I'm erasing it with THE MAGIC OF MY FINGERS!") Anyway, It happens that Dr. Wilson is African American. After we'd been talking with her for a long time, Zadie pointed out "Your skin is DARK BROWN! And mine is LIGHT WHITE." Dr. Wilson took it in stride and held her arm out so they could compare. I decided that was totally okay, and I'd keep my big nose out of it.
I go out with Mom every Sunday, and sometimes Zadie doesn't want to go in right away, so we let her play in the car and we sit and talk a bit more. Yesterday, two young men in suits came down the street. Despite our studious efforts to avoid their gazes, they did approach the car. They asked if they could talk to us for a minute, and Mom said we weren't interested. One flashed a picture of Jesus like a badge and said "It's about Jesus." "Oh, we know who he is. He sounds like a cool guy, but we're not into it. Thanks, though." They left and walked down the street. However, soon they had turned around and were doing the other side. As they got to the house across the street from ours, Zadie leaned way out the window and yelled. "Hi!! Hi!!! It's my birthday! I'm three! You guys look nice!" Mom and I were cracking up.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Zadie is three.
We had a nice day together. Sweetie and I both took the day off, and we had a few things to do.
We started with breakfast and presents. I offered pancakes, but she wanted multigrain hot cereal.
Later was preschool. We had an unexpected fire drill.
We came home and got Sweetie, and from there we went to lunch, then REI to get a new bike (!), and then to her doctor's visit. She's perfect in every way, of course.
Then we came home for just a bit, and I baked the cake. Then it was her choice of restaurant for dinner -- The Old Spaghetti Factory.
It was lovely more or less throughout. She had to get a shot, and there was some kerfuffle over a meatball. Once or twice she burst into tears, but otherwise, I think she had a good day. I can't wait for her party tomorrow. And I just can't believe how she's growing.
We started with breakfast and presents. I offered pancakes, but she wanted multigrain hot cereal.
Later was preschool. We had an unexpected fire drill.
We came home and got Sweetie, and from there we went to lunch, then REI to get a new bike (!), and then to her doctor's visit. She's perfect in every way, of course.
Then we came home for just a bit, and I baked the cake. Then it was her choice of restaurant for dinner -- The Old Spaghetti Factory.
It was lovely more or less throughout. She had to get a shot, and there was some kerfuffle over a meatball. Once or twice she burst into tears, but otherwise, I think she had a good day. I can't wait for her party tomorrow. And I just can't believe how she's growing.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Ireland week
Well, we're doing another culture week, and it seemed to be appropriate to study Ireland on the week of Saint Patrick's Day. On Sunday, we had soda bread for breakfast. I'd used the recipe before, and it's a good one. I used whole wheat flour this time, and it was still really tasty. I especially liked it with the pear-ginger conserve I made last summer.
On Tuesday we had Irish stew... sort of. I used fake meat, so it's not particularly authentic, but we all liked it. In fact, Sweetie always swears he hates turnips, but there was a significant amount of turnip in it and he kept raving about it.
Tonight we had colcannon, which is basically mashed potatoes with cabbage. I added onion because I like it, and peas because Sweetie requested them.
I printed out some coloring pages, mostly of Blarney castle and some animals in the style of the Book of Kells. I also did a Selkie (a seal/human), because she has a story about them and is pretty interested in the idea. I stayed away from leprechauns and pots of gold.
She got a Little Travelers video from Mom about the British Isles and has watched that a few times. She also watched and really liked the Secret of Roan Inish, one of my favorite movies. The first time we watched it, she got upset when the baby in the cradle got washed out to sea, so I had to pause it to reassure her that he was okay. I was surprised a little that she never commented on the accents. Either she can totally understand them or totally can't and isn't saying anything.
Finally, we bought two new books, Fiona's Luck and Finn McCool and the Great Fish. I really like them both, and so does she. Fiona's Luck is really about using your wits instead of relying on luck, and features a strong, smart female main character. Finn McCool is a charming book that is ostensibly about the mythic Irish hero, although he's a badass fighting King Arthur type, really, and this book portrays him, literally, as a gentle giant. Full disclosure -- Finn is Zadie's middle name, and I did choose it in honor of Finn McCool.
That's about all, besides a few listenings of "When Irish Eyes are Smiling," "Danny Boy," a Chieftans album and once, when she wasn't paying much attention, a few Boiled in Lead songs.
I've made traditional Irish desserts in the past, but one's a tooth-endangering toffee and the other involves potatoes*, so I skipped it this time. Sweetie and I did, however, have this conversation:
Me: Oh, say... I ran into our friends Ben and Jerry at the store.
Sweetie: Oh yeah? How are they?
Me: Good, except for the news they had about Dublin.
Sweetie: What's that?
Me: There was a terrible mudslide.
Sweetie: Hmmm, I'll have to investigate that later.
Yeah, now that we can't spell stuff anymore, we're going to have to be sneakier.
*I'm not kidding, and it's not as bad as that sounds. You make mashed potatoes, add flour until it's a dough, and use the dough to make a sort of calzone-shaped apple pie. It tasted good, although the consistency was a little off to me.
On Tuesday we had Irish stew... sort of. I used fake meat, so it's not particularly authentic, but we all liked it. In fact, Sweetie always swears he hates turnips, but there was a significant amount of turnip in it and he kept raving about it.
Tonight we had colcannon, which is basically mashed potatoes with cabbage. I added onion because I like it, and peas because Sweetie requested them.
I printed out some coloring pages, mostly of Blarney castle and some animals in the style of the Book of Kells. I also did a Selkie (a seal/human), because she has a story about them and is pretty interested in the idea. I stayed away from leprechauns and pots of gold.
She got a Little Travelers video from Mom about the British Isles and has watched that a few times. She also watched and really liked the Secret of Roan Inish, one of my favorite movies. The first time we watched it, she got upset when the baby in the cradle got washed out to sea, so I had to pause it to reassure her that he was okay. I was surprised a little that she never commented on the accents. Either she can totally understand them or totally can't and isn't saying anything.
Finally, we bought two new books, Fiona's Luck and Finn McCool and the Great Fish. I really like them both, and so does she. Fiona's Luck is really about using your wits instead of relying on luck, and features a strong, smart female main character. Finn McCool is a charming book that is ostensibly about the mythic Irish hero, although he's a badass fighting King Arthur type, really, and this book portrays him, literally, as a gentle giant. Full disclosure -- Finn is Zadie's middle name, and I did choose it in honor of Finn McCool.
That's about all, besides a few listenings of "When Irish Eyes are Smiling," "Danny Boy," a Chieftans album and once, when she wasn't paying much attention, a few Boiled in Lead songs.
I've made traditional Irish desserts in the past, but one's a tooth-endangering toffee and the other involves potatoes*, so I skipped it this time. Sweetie and I did, however, have this conversation:
Me: Oh, say... I ran into our friends Ben and Jerry at the store.
Sweetie: Oh yeah? How are they?
Me: Good, except for the news they had about Dublin.
Sweetie: What's that?
Me: There was a terrible mudslide.
Sweetie: Hmmm, I'll have to investigate that later.
Yeah, now that we can't spell stuff anymore, we're going to have to be sneakier.
*I'm not kidding, and it's not as bad as that sounds. You make mashed potatoes, add flour until it's a dough, and use the dough to make a sort of calzone-shaped apple pie. It tasted good, although the consistency was a little off to me.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Genealogy fun facts
I've traced one side of my family back to 1470. That's before Shakespeare, yo.
All four of my grandparents have ancestors in Ireland, Scotland, or both.
It's the side from the Netherlands that goes back to 1470. They seem to have damn good record-keeping.
My grandma told me I was eligible for Daughters of the American Revolution. I found out I am... on both sides. A surprising number of my ancestors lived in the U.S. before it was the U.S.
The most recent immigrants all came from Ireland during... well, do I even have to say it? The very most recent was Rodger Charles Ryan, who arrived from Ireland on April 17, 1880.
Number of slaves I thought my family had owned = none. Number of slaves they actually did = some. I haven't checked all the census data, but I found one guy who owned ten. Yes, this disturbs me.
Almost all of my ancestors lived in Pennsylvania at one time.
The oldest ancestor I can trace is my great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather, Gerrit Van Gameren. (That's 16 greats.)
A quick survey of only my great-great grandparents and above reveals births in fifteen American states.
I was truly surprised at the number of people who had more than ten children or who had children well into their forties. My mom pointed out the no-birth-control thing (I know, duh, but didn't they even have the rhythm method?), but I honestly thought that with their shortened life expectancies they would hit menopause earlier, too.
Also, my grandma did a ton of genealogy research for decades. She traveled, studied books, and read the shaky handwriting in the records. Using Ancestry.com is about as hard as double-clicking. I feel a little disloyal every time I so easily stumble upon someone she never found, or change a Susannah to a Sarah.
Finally, the numbers of people multiply exponentially (for every generation, double just the number of people, but if you add all the siblings, there are probably already thousands of people on my chart). I want everyone I know to do one of these so we can compare and see if we're distant cousins. I suddenly feel as though I could be related to anyone I encounter.
It's been really interesting.
All four of my grandparents have ancestors in Ireland, Scotland, or both.
It's the side from the Netherlands that goes back to 1470. They seem to have damn good record-keeping.
My grandma told me I was eligible for Daughters of the American Revolution. I found out I am... on both sides. A surprising number of my ancestors lived in the U.S. before it was the U.S.
The most recent immigrants all came from Ireland during... well, do I even have to say it? The very most recent was Rodger Charles Ryan, who arrived from Ireland on April 17, 1880.
Number of slaves I thought my family had owned = none. Number of slaves they actually did = some. I haven't checked all the census data, but I found one guy who owned ten. Yes, this disturbs me.
Almost all of my ancestors lived in Pennsylvania at one time.
The oldest ancestor I can trace is my great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather, Gerrit Van Gameren. (That's 16 greats.)
A quick survey of only my great-great grandparents and above reveals births in fifteen American states.
I was truly surprised at the number of people who had more than ten children or who had children well into their forties. My mom pointed out the no-birth-control thing (I know, duh, but didn't they even have the rhythm method?), but I honestly thought that with their shortened life expectancies they would hit menopause earlier, too.
Also, my grandma did a ton of genealogy research for decades. She traveled, studied books, and read the shaky handwriting in the records. Using Ancestry.com is about as hard as double-clicking. I feel a little disloyal every time I so easily stumble upon someone she never found, or change a Susannah to a Sarah.
Finally, the numbers of people multiply exponentially (for every generation, double just the number of people, but if you add all the siblings, there are probably already thousands of people on my chart). I want everyone I know to do one of these so we can compare and see if we're distant cousins. I suddenly feel as though I could be related to anyone I encounter.
It's been really interesting.
Monday, March 14, 2011
Scheming?
When we were teaching Z to use the potty, Mom and I both would sometimes say "Pssssss" to help her go. Now when she's in the bathroom with me, she sometimes does it to "help" me. I always say, "Oh, thank you. That helped a lot."
I made cookies on Saturday, and while the pan was still hot, Zadie reached for one. That's how she got a terrible burn the last time, so I shrieked and shooed her away. I turned back to my cooking and a moment later I heard her saying, "Psssssss. Pssssss."
I gave her a sidelong look, and she explained. "I was saying 'pssss' so that you would have to go pee so that you would go to the bathroom." I looked at her, the bathroom door, and the cookies. "Then what would happen?" "I don't know."
I'm not totally convinced she did in fact know, but if she did, isn't that about the creepiest thing to ever come out of a two-year-old's mouth? I mean, she's inventing multi-step schemes to get me out of the way so she can steal cookies. She's going to have to be about one millimeter more sly to actually get me, but there we are. I think I'm going to spend about, oh, the next sixteen years on my toes.
I made cookies on Saturday, and while the pan was still hot, Zadie reached for one. That's how she got a terrible burn the last time, so I shrieked and shooed her away. I turned back to my cooking and a moment later I heard her saying, "Psssssss. Pssssss."
I gave her a sidelong look, and she explained. "I was saying 'pssss' so that you would have to go pee so that you would go to the bathroom." I looked at her, the bathroom door, and the cookies. "Then what would happen?" "I don't know."
I'm not totally convinced she did in fact know, but if she did, isn't that about the creepiest thing to ever come out of a two-year-old's mouth? I mean, she's inventing multi-step schemes to get me out of the way so she can steal cookies. She's going to have to be about one millimeter more sly to actually get me, but there we are. I think I'm going to spend about, oh, the next sixteen years on my toes.
Sunday, March 13, 2011
It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood.
The title of this post is, of course, a reference to Mr. Rogers' Neighborhood, my undisputed favorite show as a kid. I played an episode for Zadie yesterday, and I was really nervous. If she didn't love it, I was going to be disappointed. But she did! Hooray!
There's been a lot of activity in my 'hood as the weather gets warmer, but nothing more exciting than what happened the other night. At about 9:30, two helicopters started circling really low and lighting up my street. They stayed for a long time, and eventually I went out to see what was going on. I couldn't tell, but my neighbor said there were eight cop cars at the end of our street and they had the three nearest streets blocked off. I listened to the police scanner for a while and couldn't tell what was going on (other than they were looking for someone on foot in my neighborhood, which was already obvious).
The next morning, I found out that a little Greek restaurant nearby had been robbed and the baddies had tried to escape via the street next to us. Again. Apparently they first knocked over someone's fence and caused a bunch of damage (like breaking potted plants), then one tried to run away via the house next door to the house that got crashed into before. The woman who owns it said she heard a racket and it sounded like someone was in her living room. She went to investigate and saw a large man with a gun tearing off her screen door and trying to get in the back door. She ran out through the front door only to see a bunch of police officers. A SWAT officer told her to get back inside and lay down, so she did. At that point, they released the police dog into the backyard. The guy leaped up onto a waterfall, shot at the police and the dog, and they returned fire. He jumped over the fence into the next yard, where another neighbor came face-to-face with him with the bad guy's gun raised! There were more shots fired, then the dog got him and they immobilized him. I'm still not sure whether they got the other guy, although it sounds like the manhunt was on until about 3:30am.
In better neighbor news, we had a potluck last night, and it was totally fun. I handed out just a couple simple invitations (on computer paper) and gave everyone one or two more for the people they might run into, and I said to just bring whatever, since we'd probably have it covered. Then yesterday we dragged out some chairs, a fire pit, and an ice chest. The neighbors brought a folding table, and soon a friendly handful showed up. We had enchiladas, lasagna, almonds, oranges, popcorn, a spinach-rice-cheese bake, butternut squash, pasta, roasted vegetables, and bread. It was a really nice spread. I made a baked pasta casserole and cookies. Everyone brought beer or wine and we just kept stoking the fire and enjoying the company. Several kids ran around and the adults mostly sat and gabbed. I got the fire pit as a birthday gift from Dad after admiring one at another party several years ago. Everyone loved it, and about three other people swore they were going to go get one. Actually, we don't use it often as a fire pit (it doubles as a barbecue, and we use it more for that), but it was perfect for last night. It was just a little chilly out, and the fire made it pleasant. We circled our chairs a little closer as the evening wore on.
My favorite thing was the cookies I made! I got the recipe online about a week ago and couldn't wait to try it. They're called salted double chocolate peanut butter cookies. They have cocoa powder and chocolate chips and you sprinkle a few grains of sea salt on top. I liked them, and Sweetie did, too. Then we put a plate out and I kept overhearing my neighbors position themselves over there and say, "What kind are these?" "Salted double chocolate peanut butter cookies." (One neighbor in particular had made it his job to remember the whole name and inform others.) "Salted?" "Salted." Then they would both eat a cookie. The salt sounds weird, but it really enhanced the flavor, and on reflection, I think I could have added even a bit more.
Anyway, that's good for now, I think. There's plenty of more to tell, but there's laundry to fold... sigh.
There's been a lot of activity in my 'hood as the weather gets warmer, but nothing more exciting than what happened the other night. At about 9:30, two helicopters started circling really low and lighting up my street. They stayed for a long time, and eventually I went out to see what was going on. I couldn't tell, but my neighbor said there were eight cop cars at the end of our street and they had the three nearest streets blocked off. I listened to the police scanner for a while and couldn't tell what was going on (other than they were looking for someone on foot in my neighborhood, which was already obvious).
The next morning, I found out that a little Greek restaurant nearby had been robbed and the baddies had tried to escape via the street next to us. Again. Apparently they first knocked over someone's fence and caused a bunch of damage (like breaking potted plants), then one tried to run away via the house next door to the house that got crashed into before. The woman who owns it said she heard a racket and it sounded like someone was in her living room. She went to investigate and saw a large man with a gun tearing off her screen door and trying to get in the back door. She ran out through the front door only to see a bunch of police officers. A SWAT officer told her to get back inside and lay down, so she did. At that point, they released the police dog into the backyard. The guy leaped up onto a waterfall, shot at the police and the dog, and they returned fire. He jumped over the fence into the next yard, where another neighbor came face-to-face with him with the bad guy's gun raised! There were more shots fired, then the dog got him and they immobilized him. I'm still not sure whether they got the other guy, although it sounds like the manhunt was on until about 3:30am.
In better neighbor news, we had a potluck last night, and it was totally fun. I handed out just a couple simple invitations (on computer paper) and gave everyone one or two more for the people they might run into, and I said to just bring whatever, since we'd probably have it covered. Then yesterday we dragged out some chairs, a fire pit, and an ice chest. The neighbors brought a folding table, and soon a friendly handful showed up. We had enchiladas, lasagna, almonds, oranges, popcorn, a spinach-rice-cheese bake, butternut squash, pasta, roasted vegetables, and bread. It was a really nice spread. I made a baked pasta casserole and cookies. Everyone brought beer or wine and we just kept stoking the fire and enjoying the company. Several kids ran around and the adults mostly sat and gabbed. I got the fire pit as a birthday gift from Dad after admiring one at another party several years ago. Everyone loved it, and about three other people swore they were going to go get one. Actually, we don't use it often as a fire pit (it doubles as a barbecue, and we use it more for that), but it was perfect for last night. It was just a little chilly out, and the fire made it pleasant. We circled our chairs a little closer as the evening wore on.
My favorite thing was the cookies I made! I got the recipe online about a week ago and couldn't wait to try it. They're called salted double chocolate peanut butter cookies. They have cocoa powder and chocolate chips and you sprinkle a few grains of sea salt on top. I liked them, and Sweetie did, too. Then we put a plate out and I kept overhearing my neighbors position themselves over there and say, "What kind are these?" "Salted double chocolate peanut butter cookies." (One neighbor in particular had made it his job to remember the whole name and inform others.) "Salted?" "Salted." Then they would both eat a cookie. The salt sounds weird, but it really enhanced the flavor, and on reflection, I think I could have added even a bit more.
Anyway, that's good for now, I think. There's plenty of more to tell, but there's laundry to fold... sigh.
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