brain power
This is why they’re so smart: lots of circulation to the brain.
campfire
The campers are gathered around the fire.
The easy chair is part of the campsite, and the crocodile is tame.
trajectory of a cold
Jan 16-18: daughter succumbs to sickness: listless, tired, coughy and sneezy. Mother in good health.
Jan 18-19: daughter remains groggy, coughy. Mother feels onset of fatigue and slight sore throat – immediately reverts in to ‘rest’ mode… long naps, abbreviated social schedule.
Jan 19: lapse in judgment — Mother and daughter go to local indoor pool for a swim… in 25 degree weather. Both get chilled.
Jan 20-22: daughter lapses deeper into sneezes and chills. Mother feels persistent fatigue and sore throat.
Jan 20-21: daughter stays home from school, mother attends conference out of town, begins survival mode on ibuprophen and acetaminophen.
Jan 22: mother returns home, daughter returns to school.
Jan 23: Mother collapses into cloud of sickness, lying immovable for hours at a time.
Jan 24-26: abbreviated social schedule: daughter getting antsy, mother still weak and coughy.
Jan 25: mother slowly regains energy. daughter ever more restless.
Jan 26: back to normal for both parties.
Duration 10 days.
ach…
At the library yesterday, Rada picked up a DVD and CD for something called “Camp Rock”. It looked innocuous enough: a Disney movie about a young woman learning to be true to herself, honoring humble roots, and all this taking place in a summer camp for aspiring rock musicians.
Well, the DVD was pleasantly bland enough: lots of 16-somethings dancing around behind lake and mountain vistas. But the real horror is the soundtrack. Rada has been playing the music CD incessantly. This morning at 5:30 am I am hearing “Oh baby I’ve got to find me, you’ve got to find you-ooo-oo”. The songs are stunningly insipid: the lyrics an ersatz-rock genre, sanitized for language and content. And the music is teeth-gratingly bad: think High School Musical but without the pretty chord changes.
ode
Oh winter…! how do I love thee.
Let me count the ways —
When the cold slush of a rainy day turns to ice,
gritty with soot and dirt: how blasted lovely.
When the grimy snow melts, partially freezing to an outer shell,
with no warning now slick and cold: how damn exciting!
When the puddles that were once muddy mush now turn stiff
and the wind swells to a cold roar
ripping under coat flaps and prickling into mittens:
sweet effing challenge it is!
but finally… when the day softens to silence
and another snowfall descends
white and cool, for a brief moment crystalline and pure…
I lapse silent,
reluctantly accepting
the beauty.
breaking free
This week Rada went to theatrical day camp. They sang songs, learned dances and made unusual and interesting objets d’art.
At school, Rada conforms to a very strict dress code, but at camp the kids wear whatever they want to. Rada could show up in polka dot pajamas with striped tights if she wanted to.
And that’s pretty close to what she did.
… Happy New Year, by the way!
The Santa Claus Problem
Last weekend, ‘Santa Claus’ made an appearance in downtown Cambridge. Rada gleefully met him and related all her wish lists for Christmas. A few days ago ‘Santa’ made another appearance at the local mall. We noticed that this Santa looked really different from the other one.
What am I supposed to say about that? How do I interpret this seemingly illogical chain of events to an 8 year old who still believes?
And then there is the problem of the chimney, or lack thereof. Fortunately, I may have solved that one last year with a long talk about how he can get in through the windows, or keyhole (which is a little creepy, actually).
But now this year, there is the additional problem of when Christmas happens. Because several relatives are leaving at 6 am on Christmas morning, it has been decided that Christmas will be moved ahead a day. So ‘Christmas’ will be on Dec 24th. And ‘Christmas Eve’ will be on Dec 23rd. I’m not sure whether to try and explain this all somehow, or more conveniently, just ‘lose’ a day between now and then.
the reading bug
She recently came down with it. One day she was reading out loud, stumbling over words, and the next she lay curled up on the couch head buried in a book, reading silently to herself, oblivious to the world around her.
She asks me could she have the book next to her on the table while she ate? Knowing that my answer will spawn a lifetime of reading while eating (known through my own experience) I say yes. She neglects her meal, having a stronger appetite for the words than the food.
I stand by proudly, watching the reader in her as it emerges full force: the complete absorption in the story, the intensity of concentration.
Another parent might angrily point to the uneaten food, and the book at the table. But not me! I’m thrilled.
On the upswing
Currently, I can do no wrong in my daughter’s life. As we walk along the sidewalk towards school, she hangs off my arm declaring, “Oh my mommy… MY mommy, MommyWommy!”… and at home she spontaneously tells me she loves me, constantly. I get lots of hugs for no reason, and lately she thinks my outfits all look good.
So I’m enjoying the affectionate mood and drinking in all the good energy.
But my enjoyment is also tempered by the knowledge that her mood could change rather quickly, and I could soon find myself in the company of a very different child.
Last year’s low point was when I had told her she could not bring her plastic caveman bat to school. She was so angry she said was going right back to the baby house to get herself another mother, one who would ‘understand’ this perfectly reasonable request.
Nice to be on the upswing for a little while.
The day the cast came off
…it was going to be grand: Rada would get back mobility in her arm. We would preserve the cast for posterity, displayed in some honored place in her room, not unlike a moose head. For me, life would return normal: No more lady-in-waiting. And no more strange contraptions constructed out of plastic bags and masking tape every time she took a bath.
The removal procedure was kind of neat: they used a thing similar to a blade saw (don’t worry! keep reading!) but with such a blunt edge that you can put it directly on your skin with just a slight tickling sensation. It bites through plaster, nothing else.
After the removal, we went to Radiology for an x-ray to see how it was healing, and then they said something about coming right back for the ‘next cast’. Oh sure, I thought, some kind of temporary splint that comes off at night. No problem.
Um… well… not exactly. They put another cast on her. This one for another 3 weeks. After that there’s a temporary splint and then finally she’s a free girl. I thought she’d be on the monkey bars by Christmas but it looks more like it’ll be Martin Luther King Day.
The new cast is slightly shorter, so she has a little more mobility. Rada chose a patriotic theme and here she is with her favorite dog-friend Zeus:
photograph kindness of Zeus’s person, Poul.