We are trying to honor the unfolding catastrophe in Haiti by being mindful of our circumstances: fresh water, house, food, ordinary lives. That seems to be a way to have the children aware of things, without having them be traumatized by the images in the media. I think about the kids in Haiti who will have this in their minds for the rest of their lives.
But I can't believe it's taking so long to get aid in. Didn't Katrina give us any tools to do it better (at least faster) this time around?
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Friday, January 8, 2010
Sweet Nothings I Love to Hear
Things I really do love to hear in this first week of 2010.
From the surgeon, after surgery that was going to reattach a torn tendon in my rotator cuff: "We didn't have to do open surgery, and in fact it wasn't the tendon at all. We removed an inflamed bursa, and shaved down your bone a bit."
It makes me wonder, retroactively, about the efficacy of the two MRIs I had that diagnosed the problem, but hey. No tendon or muscle cutting = fast recuperation. I'm already typing with both hands!
From the lovely editor of KC Baby:
"Would you like to do that piece on Baby Signs you pitched for our spring issue?"
YES! Yes, I really would. I will have it in early. It will be no more than 750 words. I can't wait to get started.
From the school automated phone call system, Thursday morning:
"Due to extreme cold temperatures and blowing snow, school is canceled today and tomorrow."
Because I am still on vacation, and getting up early to get kids to school in frigid sub sub zero temps is actually no fun for the parents either. So yay! Snow days!
From the editorial staff of a certain Australian kids' magazine:
"We are considering your story for our next issue."
Really? I'm thrilled. I think it's a neat story too, and it would be a first fiction publication in magazine format, and my mom lives in Australia, and she could read it fresh off the newstand... Ahem.
If 2010 can just hold on like this, it's gonna be sweet.
From the surgeon, after surgery that was going to reattach a torn tendon in my rotator cuff: "We didn't have to do open surgery, and in fact it wasn't the tendon at all. We removed an inflamed bursa, and shaved down your bone a bit."
It makes me wonder, retroactively, about the efficacy of the two MRIs I had that diagnosed the problem, but hey. No tendon or muscle cutting = fast recuperation. I'm already typing with both hands!
From the lovely editor of KC Baby:
"Would you like to do that piece on Baby Signs you pitched for our spring issue?"
YES! Yes, I really would. I will have it in early. It will be no more than 750 words. I can't wait to get started.
From the school automated phone call system, Thursday morning:
"Due to extreme cold temperatures and blowing snow, school is canceled today and tomorrow."
Because I am still on vacation, and getting up early to get kids to school in frigid sub sub zero temps is actually no fun for the parents either. So yay! Snow days!
From the editorial staff of a certain Australian kids' magazine:
"We are considering your story for our next issue."
Really? I'm thrilled. I think it's a neat story too, and it would be a first fiction publication in magazine format, and my mom lives in Australia, and she could read it fresh off the newstand... Ahem.
If 2010 can just hold on like this, it's gonna be sweet.
Monday, January 4, 2010
Little House in Town, With All the Modern Conveniences, Please
I found myself rereading Little House on the Prairie these holidays, after... some 30 years or so. Two of the actual houses are within an hour's drive of here, and although I have not yet been to see either of them, they are on my resolution list for 2009. I skipped past the first two books in the series to get straight to Kansas.
Apart from the obvious appreciations I have thereby rediscovered (my microwave, dishwasher, and central heating, topping the list this week as we sit under inches of snow) the story is more phenomenal than I remembered. I can't imagine riding over a frozen lake in a covered wagon, and hearing it break up the day after the crossing. I'd never ride over a frozen lake in a snow covered wagon again after that, if it was up to me, let alone ford a swollen river in one, and then spend a summer getting to some predetermined destination in a field of tall grass in "Indian country." The charm of the story barely disguises the constant threat to life and limb from wolves, malaria, prairie fire, chimney fire, and such. Every time Pa goes off to trade furs, I worry he won't return and that his four women on the prairie won't even have the wagon to get to Independence in.
I've gone back to read The House in the Big Woods, in an attempt to discover why on earth they ever left their cozy log cabin beset by bears. But there is so much incident in every chapter, I'm keeping a close eye on craft along the way. I had been wondering if it was time to begin reading them to Daughter, but she is nervous enough about robbers and other picturesque disasters of contemporary life. I don't know how useful it would be to scare her silly with buffalo wolves to boot.
Apart from the obvious appreciations I have thereby rediscovered (my microwave, dishwasher, and central heating, topping the list this week as we sit under inches of snow) the story is more phenomenal than I remembered. I can't imagine riding over a frozen lake in a covered wagon, and hearing it break up the day after the crossing. I'd never ride over a frozen lake in a snow covered wagon again after that, if it was up to me, let alone ford a swollen river in one, and then spend a summer getting to some predetermined destination in a field of tall grass in "Indian country." The charm of the story barely disguises the constant threat to life and limb from wolves, malaria, prairie fire, chimney fire, and such. Every time Pa goes off to trade furs, I worry he won't return and that his four women on the prairie won't even have the wagon to get to Independence in.
I've gone back to read The House in the Big Woods, in an attempt to discover why on earth they ever left their cozy log cabin beset by bears. But there is so much incident in every chapter, I'm keeping a close eye on craft along the way. I had been wondering if it was time to begin reading them to Daughter, but she is nervous enough about robbers and other picturesque disasters of contemporary life. I don't know how useful it would be to scare her silly with buffalo wolves to boot.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
American Girl(s)
So, we bought the American Girl doll in a middle class gesture to get Daughter attached to something other than her mother's tummy, fun though that has been. Daughter was thrilled by the doll in the catalog (and how did we ever get that first catalog through our door, anyway?). I bought a matching nightdress for doll and girl, because (cheap at heart) I know Daughter can wear nightgown all year, and through next winter as well. Although the doll will not outgrow hers, Daughter will, but first nightdresses just become... shorter.
Daughter named doll Sally. All day yesterday, the signs were good. Daughter spoke to Sally, took her everywhere, explained snow, and Christmas, and how to behave at a party ("don't take off your shoes, or your underwear").
However, today I'm a bit alarmed. The fear was that Daughter would not attach to Doll. I fear instead that Doll exerts more power than I gave American Girl credit for, and Daughter has become fetish object for Doll.
Daughter will only dress like the doll today, and wants to be called Sally as well. My tummy is also feeling a little slighted.
However, we did have a visit from The Man Himself on Christmas Eve, braving ice and snow on the busiest day of the year. It is Santa as we have him in a wall of pictures, one from each year, framed in the hall. But as we were missed off the studio call list this year, Santa took pity, and paid a personal visit.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Touche!
Daughter, across dinner table, during ice storm: I have the power... of ICE!
Son, in riposte: Oh yeah? I have the power of FIRE.
Mom, kidding: I have the power of chicka chickaaah!
Daughter: I have the power of love. That's the best.
Son: I have the power of Donald Duck. You can't defeat that, because I'm fictional.
He has a point, you know.
Son, in riposte: Oh yeah? I have the power of FIRE.
Mom, kidding: I have the power of chicka chickaaah!
Daughter: I have the power of love. That's the best.
Son: I have the power of Donald Duck. You can't defeat that, because I'm fictional.
He has a point, you know.
Wednesday, December 23, 2009
Well, That Complicates Things
Daughter had a wonderful Christmas Polar-Express-style dream that she firmly believes actually happened ("it was a awesome night").
In it, Santa collected her from our house by sleigh, then flew to the school to collect two of her best friends, and then returned her to the house. She was sleepy when he first arrived, but then woke up. Along the way, she discovered:
* Rudolph does not have a red nose, but a white one (it glows)
* His nose is in fact tiny
* Oddly, he flies in the rear of the formation and not in front
* And so do the rest of the reindeer (ie. behind the sleigh)
* Santa doesn't come down chimneys at all! The whole roof just dissolves off the house! So the reindeer can come in too! Because he's magic! He knows what you're thinking!
At the end of the ride, Santa put two gifts into her hands (wrapped in pink paper with Barbies on them: "he noticed that I like pink").
How to:
* tactfully not refer to it as a dream, let alone an abduction
* tactfully explain that Santa was being kind in putting the reindeer in back. Oats give them gas, and while Santa is used to it, three little girls might not be
* explain why her brother wasn't invited: perhaps it was a five year old thing, especially for five year olds?
* get some pink wrapping paper with barbies on it at this late hour? Because, as daughter also explained: "tomorrow and tomorrow after that it's Christmas!"
In it, Santa collected her from our house by sleigh, then flew to the school to collect two of her best friends, and then returned her to the house. She was sleepy when he first arrived, but then woke up. Along the way, she discovered:
* Rudolph does not have a red nose, but a white one (it glows)
* His nose is in fact tiny
* Oddly, he flies in the rear of the formation and not in front
* And so do the rest of the reindeer (ie. behind the sleigh)
* Santa doesn't come down chimneys at all! The whole roof just dissolves off the house! So the reindeer can come in too! Because he's magic! He knows what you're thinking!
At the end of the ride, Santa put two gifts into her hands (wrapped in pink paper with Barbies on them: "he noticed that I like pink").
How to:
* tactfully not refer to it as a dream, let alone an abduction
* tactfully explain that Santa was being kind in putting the reindeer in back. Oats give them gas, and while Santa is used to it, three little girls might not be
* explain why her brother wasn't invited: perhaps it was a five year old thing, especially for five year olds?
* get some pink wrapping paper with barbies on it at this late hour? Because, as daughter also explained: "tomorrow and tomorrow after that it's Christmas!"
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Tis the Season for This, Too
A fun anti- meta- christmas/hannukah/kwanzaa song (thanks inky!) from Straight No Chaser:
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