In 1987 at 5:15pm on any day of the week downtown Grand Rapids, MI was a ghost town. I was an impatient 22 year old and I moved to Chicago soon after graduating from Grand Valley State College (now University, the feelings of bastardizartion are not mine alone but that is a blog for another day) because I longed for nightlife and cultural activities like museums and theatre and the choices for all these things were limited, to say the least, in Grand Rapids.
I returned to Grand Rapids for the Midwest Museum Conference last week and was amazed at the changes. There are loads of things to do now. There are a lot of bars and restaurants downtown and cultural options are spread out all over town.
You can visit the Gerald R Ford Museum or the new (9 year old) Van Andel Museum Center on the banks of the Grand River. The Public Museum in the Van Andel Museum Center is beautiful and has several wonderful exhibits, I especially like the furniture exhibit.
The Grand Rapids Art Museum (http://www.gramonline.org/) now known as "The GRAM" has began construction on a new, larger building for its art museum collection in mid-2004. The new building site is several blocks from the present museum, facing downtown's Rosa Parks Circle. Rosa Parks Circle is new to me.
The Frederik Meijer Gardens and Sculture Park, which opened a handful of years ago, is now one of Grand Rapids' premier attractions. The 125 acre park features the 24-foot bronze da Vinci Horse as well as sculptures by renowned artists including Claes Oldenburg. Also featured are a conservatory, amphitheater, farm garden, library and several galleries with changing exhibits. They've come a long way since the installation of the fish ladder on the Grand River.
The Grand Rapids Children's Museum and the Spectrum Theater are new to me. The Spectrum Theatre (http://web.grcc.cc.mi.us/Theater/spectrumnew.htm) includes all the lastest technological amenities necessary to produce over a dozen productions a year for the GRCC Players, Actors' Theatre, Jewish Theatre Grand Rapids, and the Heritage Theatre Group. The theater has also housed numerous special events like the Grand Awards, Opera Grand Rapids' "The Fall of the House of Usher", "Critical Mass" (college poets' union version of Woodstock), and dance presentations.
The Urban Institute for Contemporary Art (http://www.uica.org/) presents innovative and diverse programs in dance, film, music, literature, performing and visual arts. Wish I had know about this stuff in college.
I was impresssed when I heard the news that The Grand Rapids Symphony (http://www.grsymphony.org/) will be playing at Carnegie Hall, of "practice, practice, practice" fame.
Grand Rapids even has sports teams to cheer on now. There's an arena football team, the Grand Rapids Rampage and the Grand Rapids Griffins hockey team. Baseball fans can cheer on the West Michigan Whitecaps. The Whitecaps of the Midwest League are the Class A affiliate of the Detroit Tigers.
Some things haven't changed though. Yesterdog, a funky hot dog stand with a great display of old ad signs is still doing good business. I was glad to see the weatherball is back. It was dismantled in the mid 80s and I was sad to see it go. I liked seeing the neon forecaster. Knowing what the weather was going to be like in GR meant being able to memorize a short poem:
Weatherball red, warmer ahead.
Weatherball blue, cooler in view.
Weatherball green, no change foreseen.
Colors blinking bright, rain or snow in sight.
Weatherball black nuclear attack
The 'adults' didn't appreciate it when we added the last line in the early 80s.
There are still stretches of urban blight featuring old homes in various states of disrepair.
There was also the old familiar feeling of being left out. I don't work in a museum and at times that difference made me feel like the ugly girl alone at the dance. I've never liked that feeling but it's been around since that first high school dance.
Saturday, October 30, 2004
know your readers
This is good advice for writers, something they hear again and again if only in their own heads. Generally "know your readers" is knowing in a general way. It's demographic information like level of education, income level and interest in fly fishing or devotion to macrame. Then there's psychographic information: the characteristics of an audience based in ideology, values, beliefs and attitudes.
I know my readers. I have their addresses and phone numbers. I've met their Catholic mothers. I know one dislikes chocolate and another won't eat anything green (except iceberg lettuce).
This level of "knowing" becomes an editing tool. A censor of sorts. I watch my language, I am careful that my blog is not too dark or personal. I stay on topic. Disturbing dreams that would make for very interesting reading are not revealed. And of course I watch my grammar, it's what you do when one of you most devoted readers in an English teacher.
Having devoted readers is very cool. Feeling that my son and I are cared about is even cooler. I really appreciate that you are there. Thanks Miss S and Aunt P.
It makes me wonder though. Are there any other readers? Am I writing this just for 2 people? If you read this blog with any regularity or are here for the first time please let me know, hit the comment link.
Happy Halloween
I know my readers. I have their addresses and phone numbers. I've met their Catholic mothers. I know one dislikes chocolate and another won't eat anything green (except iceberg lettuce).
This level of "knowing" becomes an editing tool. A censor of sorts. I watch my language, I am careful that my blog is not too dark or personal. I stay on topic. Disturbing dreams that would make for very interesting reading are not revealed. And of course I watch my grammar, it's what you do when one of you most devoted readers in an English teacher.
Having devoted readers is very cool. Feeling that my son and I are cared about is even cooler. I really appreciate that you are there. Thanks Miss S and Aunt P.
It makes me wonder though. Are there any other readers? Am I writing this just for 2 people? If you read this blog with any regularity or are here for the first time please let me know, hit the comment link.
Happy Halloween
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Coming Home, the vacation aftermath
"That'll be $485."
$485! It's outrageous what a plumber charges.
While E and I were in Grand Rapids my mother was staying at our house. We needed the mail to be checked everyday (I was waiting on a letter and needed someone to call if it arrived), and I had spent the grocery money the week before on bulbs for her to plant. She loves to garden and I thought she would enjoy putzing around in the garden for a week.
Not so. She moved a few plants to get ready to plant bulbs but never got them planted.
The weather was cold and rainy so she was in pain (she needs surgery on her knee but doesn't want to have it done). She couldn't watch TV because we don't get anything here and it took her a while to figure out how to use the vcr even after she had been given a lesson and written instructions before we left. She felt like Martha Stewart, locked up but with the ability to walk around the yard.
All these things led to abdominal panic. One panic led to another when she forgot how to flush a low flow toliet. For several days she couldn't get it to clear but the panic continued so there were additions to the mess. She finally called and asked what to do, none of our suggestions worked and I told her to call a plumber and get an estimate. She called a plumber and he arrived, did work and refused to leave without being paid. My father gave him his credit card number over the phone to get the guy out of my house.
I returned to find gardening tools and small piles of dirt on my kitchen floor, A large pile of dishes in the sink and on the counters, and the splatter of deep frying coating the stove and counters, vegetables in a near liquid state and brown limes in my refrigerator (they were FREE!). The house had been cleaned before I left but you would never have guessed it.
We arrived home at about 7:30pm on Saturday and my mother was itching to leave. She scurried around gathering up her belongings as I unpacked the most important things from the car. She grabbed her bags and got in the car. I drove her home (about a 25 min trip) and waited to be sure she got in her house ok. The last time I dropped her off she had tripped on the stairs and I wanted to be sure it wouldn't happen again. As I sat in the car and watched a sinking feeling came over me. "She has forgotten her keys."
I walked her back to the car and decided our collective hunger must be fed. We went to Cracker Barrel for dinner and E refused to eat what he said he wanted when we ordered. Instead he wanted Nana's corn. After dinner I drove back home, ran in and got her keys. Then I drove back to her house and then back home. After I put E in bed I discovered her medication, her pillows and a bag of clothing. I was going to have to do it all over again tomorrow.
Sunday I drove back to my mother's place and picked her up after dropping off the things she left. She came back to my house "to finish what she had started". She planted a few bulbs and acted as supervisor for a lot of other work. I swear I should have no butt now, I worked it off that day. While we were digging we came across wires -- uh oh! Time to call Julie, the dig lady. I was told to stop all digging, even digging with a trowel, for 48 hours. The utilities would be out to put up flags and spray paint the ground where pipes and wires are. My yard now looks like an obstacle course.
Lessons learned:
* Have the mail held at the post office when you go on vacation.
* Don't call Bishop Plumbing if you need a plumber.
* Call Julie whenever you plan to disturb the ground. You're supposed to call even if you are going to drive a tent stake.
* Always ask mom if she has her keys.
* Never ask mom to housesit again.
$485! It's outrageous what a plumber charges.
While E and I were in Grand Rapids my mother was staying at our house. We needed the mail to be checked everyday (I was waiting on a letter and needed someone to call if it arrived), and I had spent the grocery money the week before on bulbs for her to plant. She loves to garden and I thought she would enjoy putzing around in the garden for a week.
Not so. She moved a few plants to get ready to plant bulbs but never got them planted.
The weather was cold and rainy so she was in pain (she needs surgery on her knee but doesn't want to have it done). She couldn't watch TV because we don't get anything here and it took her a while to figure out how to use the vcr even after she had been given a lesson and written instructions before we left. She felt like Martha Stewart, locked up but with the ability to walk around the yard.
All these things led to abdominal panic. One panic led to another when she forgot how to flush a low flow toliet. For several days she couldn't get it to clear but the panic continued so there were additions to the mess. She finally called and asked what to do, none of our suggestions worked and I told her to call a plumber and get an estimate. She called a plumber and he arrived, did work and refused to leave without being paid. My father gave him his credit card number over the phone to get the guy out of my house.
I returned to find gardening tools and small piles of dirt on my kitchen floor, A large pile of dishes in the sink and on the counters, and the splatter of deep frying coating the stove and counters, vegetables in a near liquid state and brown limes in my refrigerator (they were FREE!). The house had been cleaned before I left but you would never have guessed it.
We arrived home at about 7:30pm on Saturday and my mother was itching to leave. She scurried around gathering up her belongings as I unpacked the most important things from the car. She grabbed her bags and got in the car. I drove her home (about a 25 min trip) and waited to be sure she got in her house ok. The last time I dropped her off she had tripped on the stairs and I wanted to be sure it wouldn't happen again. As I sat in the car and watched a sinking feeling came over me. "She has forgotten her keys."
I walked her back to the car and decided our collective hunger must be fed. We went to Cracker Barrel for dinner and E refused to eat what he said he wanted when we ordered. Instead he wanted Nana's corn. After dinner I drove back home, ran in and got her keys. Then I drove back to her house and then back home. After I put E in bed I discovered her medication, her pillows and a bag of clothing. I was going to have to do it all over again tomorrow.
Sunday I drove back to my mother's place and picked her up after dropping off the things she left. She came back to my house "to finish what she had started". She planted a few bulbs and acted as supervisor for a lot of other work. I swear I should have no butt now, I worked it off that day. While we were digging we came across wires -- uh oh! Time to call Julie, the dig lady. I was told to stop all digging, even digging with a trowel, for 48 hours. The utilities would be out to put up flags and spray paint the ground where pipes and wires are. My yard now looks like an obstacle course.
Lessons learned:
* Have the mail held at the post office when you go on vacation.
* Don't call Bishop Plumbing if you need a plumber.
* Call Julie whenever you plan to disturb the ground. You're supposed to call even if you are going to drive a tent stake.
* Always ask mom if she has her keys.
* Never ask mom to housesit again.
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
dust bunnies and elephants
Space vacuum emits a strange gust, honey.
Big motes swirl around and encrust funny.
The scientist said,
"It's like under your bed."
New planets get formed like a >DUSTBUNNY<.
(heard on NPR's Wait Wait Don't Tell Me)
This new bit of information got me thinking about the way planets work and other thoughts in the deep end of my intellectual pool. Then the life preserver of silliness was thrown at me and I had to grab hold.
This may explain the strong gravitational pull around my bed. There is a new planet forming under there. Granted it is a small planet. Only Horton would be able to here a "who?".
Sidetrack: Horton Hears a Who. Is it possible that someone could actually here the activities of the dust mites? How would it change your life? Is it possible we CAN hear it but it has become white noise because they are so prevalent?
Sidetrack: Elephant. E and I have just returned from our vacation. There was a lot of driving so I made sure to pack a portable CD player and plenty of children's CDs so we could listen to them through the car stereo. A favorite was Disney's Children's Classics with Pooh. Mickey and Minnie, Donald Duck and Goofy also sing some of the songs (most are done straight, no altering of words or use of character voices, so the whole thing isn't that annoying to parents). Anywho, E has never seen a picture or cartoon of Goofy so all he has to go on for this character is the voice. Each time Goofy sang E yelled out "ELEPHANT!" I will never look at Goofy the same again.
Big motes swirl around and encrust funny.
The scientist said,
"It's like under your bed."
New planets get formed like a >DUSTBUNNY<.
(heard on NPR's Wait Wait Don't Tell Me)
This new bit of information got me thinking about the way planets work and other thoughts in the deep end of my intellectual pool. Then the life preserver of silliness was thrown at me and I had to grab hold.
This may explain the strong gravitational pull around my bed. There is a new planet forming under there. Granted it is a small planet. Only Horton would be able to here a "who?".
Sidetrack: Horton Hears a Who. Is it possible that someone could actually here the activities of the dust mites? How would it change your life? Is it possible we CAN hear it but it has become white noise because they are so prevalent?
Sidetrack: Elephant. E and I have just returned from our vacation. There was a lot of driving so I made sure to pack a portable CD player and plenty of children's CDs so we could listen to them through the car stereo. A favorite was Disney's Children's Classics with Pooh. Mickey and Minnie, Donald Duck and Goofy also sing some of the songs (most are done straight, no altering of words or use of character voices, so the whole thing isn't that annoying to parents). Anywho, E has never seen a picture or cartoon of Goofy so all he has to go on for this character is the voice. Each time Goofy sang E yelled out "ELEPHANT!" I will never look at Goofy the same again.
Monday, October 11, 2004
growth spurt weekend
We had quite a weekend. It was a whirl of activities and amazingly I survived it. This may sound strange but every weekend since I've lived here (nearly 4 months) I have gotten next to nothing done and spend my afternoons praying E would just go to sleep and let me be while I nurse a killer headache. Thursday the elevator went to the top floor, the lights went on, and I bought a clue. I drink, on average, 4 cups of tea at work each morning. Caffinated tea. I don't drink tea at home. I have been suffering for months with caffine withdrawal. Saturday morning I got up early, made a large cup of tea and was good for the day.
After breakfast we headed to the allergist so I could get a flu shot. There are few advantages to being asthmatic so I'll take all I can get. I sang a song from a "Bear in the Big Blue House" video about getting a shot as the nurse poked me in the arm, E looking on wondering what was happening. He got a Bob the Builder sticker to take with him, his new favorite possession.
After the shot it was our usual Saturday morning trip to the library (BarReeRee). We got a stack of videos and the book "The Happy Lion" by Louise Fatio. It's one of E's favorites. The story appears in a collection of children's literature I bought in my babysitting days. The stories are condensed and there aren't that many picture so we checked out the book to get the rest of the story (can you hear Paul Harvey's voice?) and see the pictures.
At check out E was sitting on the counter as a young Middle Eastern gentleman checked out our selections. E was pointing to the laser light or the bar code reader and jabbering away. He was using words I didn't recognize and I told him I didn't understand. The young man behind the counter asked, "Does he speak English?"
"Yes," I replied slightly taken aback, "but he is not yet 2 years old."
After the library it was home for lunch and then a nap. He went down so easily and slept well, something is going on. After the nap it was on to the park/playground. The weather was nice and there were many children to play with. I met a neighbor, R, who's son is just slightly older then E. The boys would periodically played together each one copying the other. Gboy is on the swings so E needed to be on the swings. E is playing on the slide so Gboy needed to be on the slide. The other children were there but none held his interest as much a boy his own age.
I had met R before and I was unable to place her thick accent. I guessed Polish. I guessed wrong. While we were pushing our children on the swings we chatted a bit. I was trying to figure out what Gboy was saying and R told me, "my son doesn't speak English". She is Bulgarian and her husband is German so Gboy speaks German. I couldn't help but think of the librarian.
I am a very active participant in playground play. I'll slide down a slide, the corkscrew is my favorite (it's wider and my mommy butt doesn't get stuck). I'll climb a chain ladder. But mostly I'll spot a little boy that is a bit too adventurous for his abilities and my comfort. Having a big person around on the playground has its advantages for a little kid too. I spent much of my time Saturday afternoon holding him up so he could reach the bars. He has discovered that he can support his weight with his arms, he has learned to HANG. This is great fun and must be done at every opportunity and from every possible height and piece of equipment.
We stayed at the park for 3 and a half hours. The entire neighborhood left the playground en masse as the air began to cool and tummies began to grumble. E was asked what he wanted for dinner, a futile exercise I know but on weekends I always give it a shot. His reply: Park. Then he went under the open stairs in the living room, found the highest step he could reach and began to hang. We ate a forgettable meal. We watched a forgettable video while snuggling together under one of my cardigans. E got a bath and we both went to bed.
Sunday morning I got up earlier than I generally would. I went downstairs and made some tea, lesson learned, and began to clean and organize in the dining room. I unpacked 3 boxes and miraculously found space for everything and even more impressive it's neat. I had been up, not just awake, but up for a good hour or so before E awakened. I let E eat breakfast in his jammies, generally it's a rule that he is to be dressed before going downstairs. My Dad's words ring in my ears every morning when I enforce the rule, "You can leave the house hungry but you cannot leave the house in your pajamas." He stayed in his jammies for a few hours as the momentum of cleaning/organizing gripped me.
I was trying to get into the city to visit friends in the morning, maybe make the 10am folk Mass at my old parish, but the momentum could not be stopped. E played quietly on his own only occassionally bringing things over for me to see. We listened to children's music on the stereo and all was good. I got a lot done and although there is still a lot to do in the house it's down to decorating type stuff, hanging pictures and curtains.
I had called friends in the city to arrange for some sort of visit earlier in the week but nothing was firm not even the day. I saw an ad in the local paper for the Bulb Bazaar at the Chicago Botanic Garden (which is in Glencoe but that is a rant for another time) and called Sunday morning to invite my friends to go -- I have a garden now and want to get my own plants in the ground soon. Aunt K was the only taker. We were to meet at Uncle Grumpy's at 1:30 so I had to keep an eye on the clock to keep the momentum from ruining the opportunity to spend time with a friend. I rushed lunch as much as I could, but a toddler with Jello will not be rushed.
We arrived at Uncle Grumpy's a few minutes late but E napped in the car so we arrived in generally good spirits. We were suprised to see YiaYia there. She had made a special trip to see us. She wasn't going to go with us to the CBG, she just wanted to say hello. Miss C was having a garage sale in Uncle Grumpy's 3-car garage and we all sat out there for a bit and chatted. The reality of time passing jolted me and I announced that we had to get going. Aunt K, YiaYia, E and I piled into the car and we were off. I dropped YiaYia off at her house and the rest of us headed north. We listed to the 10 minute tape of children's songs about transportation numerous times as K and I caught up on the doings in the old neighborhood. (Note to self: get longer tape)
The day was gorgeous and many other people had the same idea we did. We stopped by the buld bazaar first and I blew most of the grocery money on a pretty garden. Then we strolled through the grounds. E was in charge of directions, what harm could it do? We went to the raised garden which shows that those with disabilities can garden. Aunt K played at trying to catch the water from the fountain and the tone was set, the challenge was in place. E must put his hand into as many fountains as possible. Even if that means his jacket will be wet up to the elbow. E got to roll down a hill, wish I had brought a camera for that one. He led the way on foot numerous time, "Come on guys!" and when he tired he rode in a stroller or on mommy's shoulders. At one point he was walking up steep "natural" steps while holding Aunt K's hand. I followed carrying all our gear. It was like mountain climbing with a stroller.
There is a long tree lined path overlooking the Rose Garden with large concrete spheres on the path's edge spaced a couple of trees apart. E walked back and forth down this corridor counting the spheres and singing and generally amusing himself and anyone else who wandered into hearing range. At one point a chipmunk wandered in, sat on its haunches for a moment, made a mental note of the boy and darted across the path and into the foliage on the hill. E ran after him yelling, "Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse." One of my favorite moments of the day.
After the CBG we took Aunt K out for dinner. We went to Walker Bros Original Pancake House. We got the Dutch Baby, the smaller version of the Baked German Pancake. You know, the pancake bigger than your head. E got a stack of 3 and a side of strawberries, he made short work of the fruit but wasn't as into the pancakes this time around. After dinner it was everybody home. E fell asleep about 7:15 in the car and slept until 7:30 the next morning. I changed him and put him in jammies but I don't think he remembers any of it. (He reminded me of the drunk girls in college freshmen year. Yes I was the responsible one that took care of the drunks in the dorm.) Something is definitely up with him and this sleeping thing.
It's normal for a child to be away from school or a daycare facility for a weekend. It's not so normal for the teachers to comment on how much he's grown in those 2 days away -- or is it? Sleeping is growing time. He has a big belly I guess it's time for a growth spurt. Think I'll wait on buying a bunch of long pants, we'll see what the next couple of weeks brings.
Well it's nearly midnight. The eyes are getting blurry. Need to get some sleep. TA
After breakfast we headed to the allergist so I could get a flu shot. There are few advantages to being asthmatic so I'll take all I can get. I sang a song from a "Bear in the Big Blue House" video about getting a shot as the nurse poked me in the arm, E looking on wondering what was happening. He got a Bob the Builder sticker to take with him, his new favorite possession.
After the shot it was our usual Saturday morning trip to the library (BarReeRee). We got a stack of videos and the book "The Happy Lion" by Louise Fatio. It's one of E's favorites. The story appears in a collection of children's literature I bought in my babysitting days. The stories are condensed and there aren't that many picture so we checked out the book to get the rest of the story (can you hear Paul Harvey's voice?) and see the pictures.
At check out E was sitting on the counter as a young Middle Eastern gentleman checked out our selections. E was pointing to the laser light or the bar code reader and jabbering away. He was using words I didn't recognize and I told him I didn't understand. The young man behind the counter asked, "Does he speak English?"
"Yes," I replied slightly taken aback, "but he is not yet 2 years old."
After the library it was home for lunch and then a nap. He went down so easily and slept well, something is going on. After the nap it was on to the park/playground. The weather was nice and there were many children to play with. I met a neighbor, R, who's son is just slightly older then E. The boys would periodically played together each one copying the other. Gboy is on the swings so E needed to be on the swings. E is playing on the slide so Gboy needed to be on the slide. The other children were there but none held his interest as much a boy his own age.
I had met R before and I was unable to place her thick accent. I guessed Polish. I guessed wrong. While we were pushing our children on the swings we chatted a bit. I was trying to figure out what Gboy was saying and R told me, "my son doesn't speak English". She is Bulgarian and her husband is German so Gboy speaks German. I couldn't help but think of the librarian.
I am a very active participant in playground play. I'll slide down a slide, the corkscrew is my favorite (it's wider and my mommy butt doesn't get stuck). I'll climb a chain ladder. But mostly I'll spot a little boy that is a bit too adventurous for his abilities and my comfort. Having a big person around on the playground has its advantages for a little kid too. I spent much of my time Saturday afternoon holding him up so he could reach the bars. He has discovered that he can support his weight with his arms, he has learned to HANG. This is great fun and must be done at every opportunity and from every possible height and piece of equipment.
We stayed at the park for 3 and a half hours. The entire neighborhood left the playground en masse as the air began to cool and tummies began to grumble. E was asked what he wanted for dinner, a futile exercise I know but on weekends I always give it a shot. His reply: Park. Then he went under the open stairs in the living room, found the highest step he could reach and began to hang. We ate a forgettable meal. We watched a forgettable video while snuggling together under one of my cardigans. E got a bath and we both went to bed.
Sunday morning I got up earlier than I generally would. I went downstairs and made some tea, lesson learned, and began to clean and organize in the dining room. I unpacked 3 boxes and miraculously found space for everything and even more impressive it's neat. I had been up, not just awake, but up for a good hour or so before E awakened. I let E eat breakfast in his jammies, generally it's a rule that he is to be dressed before going downstairs. My Dad's words ring in my ears every morning when I enforce the rule, "You can leave the house hungry but you cannot leave the house in your pajamas." He stayed in his jammies for a few hours as the momentum of cleaning/organizing gripped me.
I was trying to get into the city to visit friends in the morning, maybe make the 10am folk Mass at my old parish, but the momentum could not be stopped. E played quietly on his own only occassionally bringing things over for me to see. We listened to children's music on the stereo and all was good. I got a lot done and although there is still a lot to do in the house it's down to decorating type stuff, hanging pictures and curtains.
I had called friends in the city to arrange for some sort of visit earlier in the week but nothing was firm not even the day. I saw an ad in the local paper for the Bulb Bazaar at the Chicago Botanic Garden (which is in Glencoe but that is a rant for another time) and called Sunday morning to invite my friends to go -- I have a garden now and want to get my own plants in the ground soon. Aunt K was the only taker. We were to meet at Uncle Grumpy's at 1:30 so I had to keep an eye on the clock to keep the momentum from ruining the opportunity to spend time with a friend. I rushed lunch as much as I could, but a toddler with Jello will not be rushed.
We arrived at Uncle Grumpy's a few minutes late but E napped in the car so we arrived in generally good spirits. We were suprised to see YiaYia there. She had made a special trip to see us. She wasn't going to go with us to the CBG, she just wanted to say hello. Miss C was having a garage sale in Uncle Grumpy's 3-car garage and we all sat out there for a bit and chatted. The reality of time passing jolted me and I announced that we had to get going. Aunt K, YiaYia, E and I piled into the car and we were off. I dropped YiaYia off at her house and the rest of us headed north. We listed to the 10 minute tape of children's songs about transportation numerous times as K and I caught up on the doings in the old neighborhood. (Note to self: get longer tape)
The day was gorgeous and many other people had the same idea we did. We stopped by the buld bazaar first and I blew most of the grocery money on a pretty garden. Then we strolled through the grounds. E was in charge of directions, what harm could it do? We went to the raised garden which shows that those with disabilities can garden. Aunt K played at trying to catch the water from the fountain and the tone was set, the challenge was in place. E must put his hand into as many fountains as possible. Even if that means his jacket will be wet up to the elbow. E got to roll down a hill, wish I had brought a camera for that one. He led the way on foot numerous time, "Come on guys!" and when he tired he rode in a stroller or on mommy's shoulders. At one point he was walking up steep "natural" steps while holding Aunt K's hand. I followed carrying all our gear. It was like mountain climbing with a stroller.
There is a long tree lined path overlooking the Rose Garden with large concrete spheres on the path's edge spaced a couple of trees apart. E walked back and forth down this corridor counting the spheres and singing and generally amusing himself and anyone else who wandered into hearing range. At one point a chipmunk wandered in, sat on its haunches for a moment, made a mental note of the boy and darted across the path and into the foliage on the hill. E ran after him yelling, "Mickey Mouse, Mickey Mouse." One of my favorite moments of the day.
After the CBG we took Aunt K out for dinner. We went to Walker Bros Original Pancake House. We got the Dutch Baby, the smaller version of the Baked German Pancake. You know, the pancake bigger than your head. E got a stack of 3 and a side of strawberries, he made short work of the fruit but wasn't as into the pancakes this time around. After dinner it was everybody home. E fell asleep about 7:15 in the car and slept until 7:30 the next morning. I changed him and put him in jammies but I don't think he remembers any of it. (He reminded me of the drunk girls in college freshmen year. Yes I was the responsible one that took care of the drunks in the dorm.) Something is definitely up with him and this sleeping thing.
It's normal for a child to be away from school or a daycare facility for a weekend. It's not so normal for the teachers to comment on how much he's grown in those 2 days away -- or is it? Sleeping is growing time. He has a big belly I guess it's time for a growth spurt. Think I'll wait on buying a bunch of long pants, we'll see what the next couple of weeks brings.
Well it's nearly midnight. The eyes are getting blurry. Need to get some sleep. TA
Saturday, October 02, 2004
"I'm Melting"
Hear the shreiks of my brain as it dies from lack of exercise?
The Wiggles are wonderful and Ralph's World rocks but there is just so much an adult mind can take. I have NO ONE to talk to after E is in bed and it's beginning to kill me. I detest dishes and house work after hours is neither relaxing nor intellectually stimulating.
To combat this mind melt I've decided to turn to the internet, not for news which is depressing, but for intelligent blog content. It's hard to find in blogger with it's nearly nonexistent search, I was using the "next blog" link that Blogger supplies and it has taken me to stuff written by teens and college kids that I have little or no interest in.
Blogger has a list of 10 that they think people may find interesting and I started worming my way through the links on other people's blogs. I have found this is the only way to find English language blogs with intelligent content. People who are publishing interesting and intelligent stuff provide links, God bless their little hearts, to others doing the same.
The blogs by academics I have been checking out lately are either over my head, on a topic I'm just not interested in or are just too damned long to add to a daily reading list. I need sleep. There are a few I like and will provide links to them on this blog. My favorite so far is "The Cranky Professor". He is short and too the point. His interest is showing you he is so much smarter than everyone else, a trait that reminds me of my grad school professional advisor. But unlike Dr. C The Cranky Prof is funny.
It's late and as I said before I need sleep.
The Wiggles are wonderful and Ralph's World rocks but there is just so much an adult mind can take. I have NO ONE to talk to after E is in bed and it's beginning to kill me. I detest dishes and house work after hours is neither relaxing nor intellectually stimulating.
To combat this mind melt I've decided to turn to the internet, not for news which is depressing, but for intelligent blog content. It's hard to find in blogger with it's nearly nonexistent search, I was using the "next blog" link that Blogger supplies and it has taken me to stuff written by teens and college kids that I have little or no interest in.
Blogger has a list of 10 that they think people may find interesting and I started worming my way through the links on other people's blogs. I have found this is the only way to find English language blogs with intelligent content. People who are publishing interesting and intelligent stuff provide links, God bless their little hearts, to others doing the same.
The blogs by academics I have been checking out lately are either over my head, on a topic I'm just not interested in or are just too damned long to add to a daily reading list. I need sleep. There are a few I like and will provide links to them on this blog. My favorite so far is "The Cranky Professor". He is short and too the point. His interest is showing you he is so much smarter than everyone else, a trait that reminds me of my grad school professional advisor. But unlike Dr. C The Cranky Prof is funny.
It's late and as I said before I need sleep.
Friday, October 01, 2004
Today was the first day...
1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 5 flowers.
E counted for the first time today. Counted where I knew he was counting instead of just saying the words in the proper order. The first time I knew he had made the connection between word and concept/quantity. I was excited all day by this new development.
Each morning when he wakes up I go get him and we lie in my bed and cuddle for 7-14 minutes and talk about what's going to happen that day or read a book or sleep. Today we looked at the pictures in "Wind in the Willows." There aren't as many as he would like but it's what was in Mommy's room. On the cover is an illustration of Ratty, Mr. Toad and Mr. Mole in a field with a few flowers. He wanted to count the flowers this morning and he did the pointing this time and started at "one". I generally do the pointing and start us out.
There are some words E says that as so clear, so distinct that there is no mistaking what they are. Some of these words are often mispronounced by toddlers so it's kinda freaky when he says them clearly. I am thinking of course of "McDonalds". Today was the first time he ever said that word.
Yes Bad Mommy got McDonalds this evening -- just didn't have the umph to cook a complete meal. But to my credit Good Mommy served him green beans instead of fries, the potatoe hater wouldn't have eaten them anyway, and milk instead of soda. When I proposed the idea of fast food I asked what thought of that idea.
GOOD 'DEA! MC DONALDS YEAH!
The fact that McDonalds was so clear floored me, we don't go there that often anymore and I never say the restaurant (I use the term loosly) name when we do go. Then he started today's mantra, HAMA-GER-GER YEAH! Nice flourish son, good use of the wave.
Mr. Fussy wanted the food immediately and I needed to take off our coats, put down our bags, nuke the beans and get his milk. He decided a fit was a better option and laid down on the floor in front of the door. I gave him the slow three count.
1. change your behavior to what I want
2. or this is what the consequences will be
3. You're done. TIME OUT. this is what I wanted, you didn't do it, here are your consequences.
I ate the fries and drank the coke from his Happy Meal as I nuked the beans and wiped down the high chair. He spent that time wailing from his crib upstairs. He is definitely in the terrible twos and I am going to become quite fit carrying him up and down the stairs for his major time outs. A crib time out is so much bigger than a floor or chair time out. I reserve those for fits when he decides to lay down, he must be tired he should be in bed. (I can hear my father saying that, this is the guy who waves cheerfully to honking motorists behind him, "Well they must know me, you don't use your horn except to say 'Hi'.")
When I was done I went upstairs and got E ready for dinner, washed his hands and the snotty boogers off his face. He went into the high chair without a fight. I got out the HAMA-GER-GER and offered to cut it for him. "No I bite it." There's a first time for everything.
E counted for the first time today. Counted where I knew he was counting instead of just saying the words in the proper order. The first time I knew he had made the connection between word and concept/quantity. I was excited all day by this new development.
Each morning when he wakes up I go get him and we lie in my bed and cuddle for 7-14 minutes and talk about what's going to happen that day or read a book or sleep. Today we looked at the pictures in "Wind in the Willows." There aren't as many as he would like but it's what was in Mommy's room. On the cover is an illustration of Ratty, Mr. Toad and Mr. Mole in a field with a few flowers. He wanted to count the flowers this morning and he did the pointing this time and started at "one". I generally do the pointing and start us out.
There are some words E says that as so clear, so distinct that there is no mistaking what they are. Some of these words are often mispronounced by toddlers so it's kinda freaky when he says them clearly. I am thinking of course of "McDonalds". Today was the first time he ever said that word.
Yes Bad Mommy got McDonalds this evening -- just didn't have the umph to cook a complete meal. But to my credit Good Mommy served him green beans instead of fries, the potatoe hater wouldn't have eaten them anyway, and milk instead of soda. When I proposed the idea of fast food I asked what thought of that idea.
GOOD 'DEA! MC DONALDS YEAH!
The fact that McDonalds was so clear floored me, we don't go there that often anymore and I never say the restaurant (I use the term loosly) name when we do go. Then he started today's mantra, HAMA-GER-GER YEAH! Nice flourish son, good use of the wave.
Mr. Fussy wanted the food immediately and I needed to take off our coats, put down our bags, nuke the beans and get his milk. He decided a fit was a better option and laid down on the floor in front of the door. I gave him the slow three count.
1. change your behavior to what I want
2. or this is what the consequences will be
3. You're done. TIME OUT. this is what I wanted, you didn't do it, here are your consequences.
I ate the fries and drank the coke from his Happy Meal as I nuked the beans and wiped down the high chair. He spent that time wailing from his crib upstairs. He is definitely in the terrible twos and I am going to become quite fit carrying him up and down the stairs for his major time outs. A crib time out is so much bigger than a floor or chair time out. I reserve those for fits when he decides to lay down, he must be tired he should be in bed. (I can hear my father saying that, this is the guy who waves cheerfully to honking motorists behind him, "Well they must know me, you don't use your horn except to say 'Hi'.")
When I was done I went upstairs and got E ready for dinner, washed his hands and the snotty boogers off his face. He went into the high chair without a fight. I got out the HAMA-GER-GER and offered to cut it for him. "No I bite it." There's a first time for everything.
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