Emelia, The Keyboard, and Me

Emelia has a great ear for music. For as long as she's been able to talk, she's been able to recognize music she's heard before. Even covers. So for a very long time, I've encouraged her to take music lessons. We never forced her into taking them -- I figured that if she was made to take them, she'd grow to resent taking them, much as I had when I was a kid. There were drawbacks to this approach -- when she was five, she asked for, and received, a ukelele as a souvenir. On the ride home, she picked at it and sang out the alphabet as accompaniment, declaring that she could play the ukelele. Sadly, that's been the ukelele's high point, as it was strummed more times on that car ride home than it has in the succeeding three years combined.

Last December, I brought up the subject of lessons again, and she "gave in." She wanted to make sure, however, that she didn't have to perform in front of anyone. I told her to pick her instrument, and after a bit of back-and-forth, she selected the piano. We have a curbside special of a keyboard that I came across around the time she was born, so as far as I was concerned, she made a fine selection. We signed up for lessons in January, and as we ended up with a late afternoon Thursday slot, we've made it work so that I sit in with her during the lesson. Steven, the instructor, is absolutely great with her -- he's generally very positive and I've yet to see him lose his patience, even when she starts plinking while he's trying to talk to her. I sit in the back, taking notes on what songs she's supposed to learn, and things to look for/work on as she practices.

During the week, she and I go over her assignments -- maybe once a week she practices on her own, but the rest of the time I'm there with her. Sometimes she gets frustrated, but we work through the parts that challenge her, and so far at least, by week's end she pulls it together. I may not be as patient as Steven is, but I seem to be doing ok. I tell her to stop saying she's sorry when she makes a mistake -- that she only needs to apologize if she's goofing off/not listening/not trying. I'm sparse with my praise, but she understands that when I say it's good, it's significant. And I'm able to let her know when she's made enough progress during a practice even when she's not all the way there.

My approach seems to gibe with her.  She doesn't dread practice, sometimes asking me when we can work on her assignment, and other times playing her assignment on her own after we've gone over it earlier in the day. Without prompting, she has repeatedly thanked me for encouraging her to take lessons, and has said that she loves playing the piano. When in Florida last month, rather than being shy and uncomfortable with playing in front of her grandmother, Emelia called her over so she could perform for her.

It's only been a few months, and of course she'll likely get sick of the piano, lessons, practice, everything. But I'm enjoying not being there yet. My daughter has a tendency to keep working on things she's good at rather than tackle things she isn't -- at some point, I'm going to have to use her experience with the piano as proof that she can get good at something even when she starts off knowing nothing about it.

I have to be honest -- when trying to anticipate the things I'd most enjoy about being a parent, it never entered my mind to think piano practice would make the list. It's nice to know that a middle-aged man can keep learning too.

Epic Summer Update -- Floydfest

Unfortunately we weren't able to ride out the weather and enjoy the last two days of Floydfest.  We woke up yesterday morning to a leaky tent and a forecast of rain for at least the next 24 hours.  Given that the girls would be cold and miserable, and we decided the best course was to head home and dry out for 36 hours before resuming our road trip (next stop:  Lancaster, PA).

I most hated to miss Michael Kiwanuka, Blitzen Trapper, Trampled by Turtles, and Ben Sollee (I only caught about 10 minutes of one of Sollee's sets and was planning to catch a full set later), but there definitely were some highlights in those first couple of days.  The back-to-back of Spirit Family Radio and Langhorne Slim & The Law to kick off the festival Thursday afternoon was awesome -- I was right at the front for those.  After dinner, Emelia joined me for an evening just the two of us.  First up was the Gogol Bordello set -- it was wonderfully frenetic, and Emelia had a great time with it -- dancing for part of the time and bouncing on my shoulders a little left her delighted.  Not surprisingly, her favorite tune was "Stop Wearing Purple."  We next went to the hula hoop place and hung out there a little bit -- the proprietress had befriended Emelia last year, and Emelia loved seeing her again (and again) this year.  We then walked around some, taking in the strange (to her) sights that start coming out in the evening -- last year Emelia was generally in bed by dark, so she delighted in seeing the funkier side of FF.

On Friday, I took in both sets of Jason Isbell, fully enjoying both performances.  The first was on the porch stage, a very small and intimate setting -- I got there early and was able to sit in the third row for it.  It was just Isbell, and he played a number of quieter tunes, and finished with a lovely cover of Townes Van Zandt's "Pancho & Lefty."  For the second one, on the main stage, I moved up to the front, and ran into my Turntable friend Lua -- I had first met her in person at last year's festival.  It was great seeing her again, and we both took in a fantastic full-band set from Isbell.  Lua had been expecting just to take in part of the show, but was wowed by Isbell, whom she didn't know especially well before the set.  It didn't hurt that accompanying Isbell was a musician that she knew and who was filling in (or just now joining the band, something Isbell indicated when Lua asked him during the merchandise signing after the show) as the second guitar.

All-in-all, a shorter and less wonderful event than I would have wanted, but I/we still had a great time while we were there.

Emelia's Hoop Tower

Love is all you need

All dressed up at the Children's Universe

Getting feathers in her hair (as of this moment, they're still around)

The family during a more contemplative moment

A Happy Ending

We had to punish Emelia last week.

At the parent-teacher conference on Monday, Emelia's teacher told us that Emelia wasn't listening to any of the other adults in school, just the teacher.  And even then, it was a struggle.  So we talked to Emelia about it afterwards, while the family was driving me to work.  And I followed up with it on Tuesday, when I walked Emelia to school.

So we were rather surprised when later on Tuesday the teacher called Kathy, and said that Emelia was misbehaving and being disruptive.  And even more surprised when the teacher called Kathy a second time, because Emelia was still acting up.  Kathy spoke with Emelia on the second call.  It didn't matter -- Emelia remained awful for the rest of the day.

We threw the book at her, at least as much as we were willing to do given that she's five.  She wrote an apology (her words, our help with spelling) that she delivered the next day; and was placed on two weeks of no dessert and no video. 

Kathy was the one who set most of the punishment, but it didn't take long before she was contemplating making exceptions.  I wanted us to hold firm -- at the time Kathy handed down the sentence, she had told Emelia that she wouldn't have s'mores while we were camping, even though her friend (and everyone else) would.  I reasoned that if Kathy was going to make that a feature of the punishment, it wouldn't do any good to remove it.  Kathy ultimately agreed, so we didn't make exceptions.

During the first week of punishment, the teacher reported that Emelia was behaving well at school.  At home, Emelia also behaved well, and didn't complain about the punishment.  She even reminded Kathy that she was on punishment a couple of times when Kathy forgot.  During camping, she sat around while everyone else ate s'mores, and didn't complain at all.  

In short, she was great for the whole first week, including Tuesday, her first day back at school after the long weekend that included an overall lack of sleep.

Tuesday evening, we ended the punishment after one week, making clear that we ended it because of her good behavior and because she didn't complain.  The point had been made, and Emelia responded positively.  We didn't see what more a second week of punishment would accomplish.  

On Wednesday, with the punishment lifted, Emelia's teacher said Emelia was excellent during the day, and at home she was great too.  

Another Letter to Emelia and Hannah

Weekends like this past one will hardly be a blip in the girls' memories when they're older, so I thought it best to try to capture it for them. Because in my mind it truly was a special one -- making a special weekend doesn't require a special trip or (much) special planning. All it requires is special people.

About the girls, May 2012

Emelia. Emelia at five is fiercely independent, except when she isn't. She's engaging, snuggly, and determined, but also she has trouble accepting things that aren't how she wants, be it with her peers or her parents. She has a strong sense of justice, usually centered on how she's being falsely "accused" of misbehaving. In sum, she's very much how she's been for the past two years, except wiser, more stubborn, more eloquent, and more creative. And even more delightful, if that's possible.

Hannah. Hannah is three months past her second birthday, her happiness that never flagged in the past now tinted occasionally by bouts of two-ness. Still, strangers regularly come up and tell us what a happy child she is. She's talking up a storm, loves to jump and do all sorts of physical activity, and she generally can't be left unattended. She's no longer napping every day, and Kathy especially isn't happy about it. She loves balls, dolls, and vehicles.

The weekend

Friday. Kathy, Emelia and Hannah headed up to College Park after school to visit with Shizuka, Kaz and Michiko (Eric was away) -- I Metro'd up there after work to meet you for dinner and a little hanging out, before I took the car back to tend to Nora, leaving the three of you to have a sleepover. I stayed up too late on TurnTable, and from what I hear, Emelia and Kaz also stayed up pretty late, chit-chatting away, best friends just like their Moms. Still, I was up the next morning before Kathy called for me to head up for a bagel breakfast.

Saturday. Up there, play and good times continued around a delicious bagel breakfast. After breakfast, Kathy, Hannah and I made a trip to the nearby REI, then came back to grab Emelia and all of us headed home. Lunch at home was followed by Hannah's (and my) nap. We woke Hannah and away we went to a Street Art Festival down at Yards Park. Actually, the girls' highlight was less the festival and much more the fountain and little pool, where I think they both would have stayed had I not pulled them away so we could see what we (I) came for. Truth be told, however, there wasn't much that interested us in the festival. The one exception was a troupe of acrobats that Kathy and I enjoyed, but Emelia and Hannah were pretty bored. Emelia eventually turned to performing her own acrobatics, far more impressed by what she could do than could the members of the troupe. After that we headed home for a simple dinner and an early bedtime for the girls.

Rather, an early bedtime for Hannah. After dinner I reminded Emelia that she wanted to make a Mother's Day cake for Sunday, so we set to work on that. Mother's Day is not traditionally known as a cake holiday, but last year we inadvertently started a tradition -- since I had a special grown-up surprise birthday party for Kathy three days earlier, we assuaged Emelia's feeling of being left out by making a Mother's Day cake. She remembered it well this year and wanted to make one again. Both before and during the making, Emelia must have referenced the "surprise" about 100 times, always making sure Kathy didn't know what we were up to. Emelia's bedtime followed the baking.

Sunday. I woke up early, and Emelia followed quickly (as did Hannah when Emelia got up). I got some milk for Hannah while Emelia and I set to work with the frosting and sprinkles.  Being clueless about such things at the time I purchased the cake mix, I quickly discovered that devil's food cake crumbs off very easily if you apply frosting, so I ended up having to do that, even though we both wanted Emelia to have the honors.  Instead, she got to put the sprinkles on.  I left her to spell out "MOMMY" with them, or "MOM" if the letters got too big, but even that was a bit too optimistic.  Let's just say that I was able to perform a salvage job so that the "O" wasn't a solid block of sprinkles.

Kathy came down and opened Emelia's card and my present, a 16x20 canvas collage of the girls using photos from last month's beach trip.  

After poking around for a bit, I was going to suggest we go to the Arboretum, but Kathy beat me to it.  Great minds and all, at least that's what I tell myself (and her).  We enjoyed walking a lot with the girls, and only had to carry Hannah a little bit at the end.  Sadly Hannah didn't want to let us take photos of her, but we snuck a couple in.  And Emelia got a couple of Kathy and me -- she liked taking the photo of us kissing.  

Kathy decided she wanted lunch at Franklin's, so that's where we went.  Again Kathy and I were in harmony, ordering the same beer and meal -- it's like we were celebrating our anniversary a few days early (the 16th).  Back to the house afterwards, for naps for Hannah and me.  I slept, but no luck with Hannah.  Kathy was a bit frazzled when I came downstairs, so I grabbed Emelia and we walked to the grocery store.  When we got back, we got the house ready for the return engagement of Shizuka and the kids, this time with Eric in tow.  A nice dinner was followed by the surprise cake, which was well received by all, much to Emelia's delight.  Our dinner guests didn't stay too late, and we put the girls as soon as the company left.  

A busy weekend gave way to a quiet evening, as Kathy and I relaxed in preparation for the week.  So ended a wonderful Mothers Day weekend.

Caveat.  Were there low points in this amazing weekend?  Of course -- it's too recent to wipe those clean via the nostalgicator.  Still, they were relatively small and insignificant compared to the multitude and intensity of the high points.

She Doesn't Deserve This Shit

On March 15, the teacher's aide in Emelia's pre-Kindergarten classroom asked Emelia to move, and when she explained that she was allowed to sit where she was, the aide picked up Emelia by the arm and moved her to where he wanted her to sit, leaving a bruise where he grabbed her.

The weekend following the incident was one of concern and anxiety, as we heard nothing from our inquiries and complaints. On Monday the 19th, I went to the school alone, because if the aide remained in the classroom, we weren't going to let Emelia go. Fortunately, the assistant principal told me that the complaint was being handled, and that while it was pending, the aide would not be in the classroom. I called Kathy to let her know that she could bring Emelia after all.

The teacher has been ecstatic since the suspension started. Only after the incident did we learn that (1) there was an injury-causing incident with another student last semester; (2) the aide allegedly has been bullying the teacher in addition to the students; and (3) allegedly the aide has been doing very little in the classroom, leaving the first-year instructor to do almost everything. Last Monday Emelia told us about her day in far greater length and detail than she ever has. On Tuesday night Kathy noticed that Emelia wasn't grinding her teeth in her sleep.

Kathy and I have established three priorities in our efforts to deal with this incident. First, that he no longer be in Emelia's classroom, and we seem to have achieved that objective. In conversations with the teacher, she has indicated that the principal has let her know that regardless of the outcome, the aide would no longer be in her classroom. Second, that he no longer be at Emelia's school. That issue has not been resolved yet, but we are hopeful that the investigations (District school board, criminal, and Child Protective Services) will result in this happening -- meeting this objective is made more likely given that the incident was witnessed by the school's visiting artist. Third, that he no longer be employed in a position, inside or outside of DCPS, that places children in his care. I don't think this will happen, but we are doing what we can to achieve this objective as well.

Once we learned that the aide would no longer be in the classroom the anxiety that we have been feeling mostly went away. While we can't help but question why the aide was in the classroom despite the problems the school was made aware of previously, at least there has been no serious injury to anyone.  

For what it's worth, this is the second incident we've had with a teacher at Emelia's school. Last year, while Emelia's class was between teachers, the substitute decided to make an example of Emelia after she had an accident by making her stay in her pee-soaked clothes all day long. That teacher is no longer a substitute for DCPS. 

Two teachers in less than two years -- hopefully, there won't be any others.

A Letter to Emelia and Hannah

We take photographs for all sorts of reasons, but mostly to capture a moment in time. In this post, I will try to capture a moment in time of roughly 72 hours. It's not about the family, though everyone is part of it; instead it's about your father, as he is at age 43, an age that probably means little to you personally when you'll read this, but also an age/time in my life that you'll have scant memories about me as a person. I can't say that these are typical days -- I think it might be the first time since we've become parents that I went out three days/nights in a row. To Hannah I apologize -- you're only two at the time these events transpire, and so even as our interactions are wonderful, they're not particularly memorable, or more accurately, distinctive for purposes of this letter. As such, Emelia features more prominently than you do in this letter.

This has been a winter of no winter. I had used my heavy coat for three days of the entire winter. It was in the 40s on Saturday, but in the 60s on Sunday, and the 70s and 80s Monday through today.

On Saturday night, I went to DC United's season opener, a game that ended in disappointment because despite getting outplayed, the scoreless draw was in reach until an added-time goal sent the team to defeat. In the stands we engaged in gallows humor to pass the evening, a sadly too familiar past time at United games these past few years. Still, it was nice to be with the gang again after the five month offseason, even though I have little to do with them outside of United games.

Sunday morning as we were adjusting to Daylight Savings we all went to visit Sharon, Gary, Andrew and Declan for breakfast, a visit that was pretty enjoyable. When Hannah showed signs of needing her nap, I drove everyone else home, and headed to a beer tasting. I had just lost 19 pounds from a diet I went on at the start of the year, and this was my first local tasting in several months. Between cuts in my personal budget and my waning interest in beer gatherings/ratings, this was something of a treat. While there I watched FSU defeat UNC to give the team its first ACC championship. And I tried a lot of beers and ate way too much food. A beer tasting doesn't involve a lot of volume -- most beers I only drank a couple of ounces, so that the 35 or so beers I drank was about a six-pack of volume -- that's a sizable amount, but not so much when the consumption was spread out over 7 hours. As with the soccer match, it was enjoyable even though I'm not close to any of the other attendees. Where once I had close ties to some of the local beer geeks, the ones I've cared about have moved or moved on, and the current regulars generally aren't people that I'd ever do something socially with outside of tastings.

I got home at a decent hour -- Kathy was still up, and we chatted a bit before we both went to sleep. Alas, at 12:30 or so, Hannah woke up because her pacifier fell out. Kathy responded to it, I woke up when she went to attend to Hannah, and I never could fall back asleep. Two hours of sleep on the night left me pretty tired the next day. I had had visions of going to a concert on Monday night, but lacking sleep and a ticket to the sold-out show, I gave up on that. At 4pm, however, I was offered a ticket, and went to an amazing show. Back around 11, I still stayed up another hour or so because I was so pumped up from the show. Six hours of sleep left me in pretty bad shape in light of the sleep shortage the previous night as well.

Tuesday morning I had the pleasure of walking Emelia to school. We both were enjoying the fantastic weather on the walk. As is often the case, our conversation was all over the place. It started with my trying to convey how wonderful the concert experience was, and Emelia claimed to completely understand, because she's five. I told her that we would go to Floydfest that summer, where I looked forward to sharing some music experiences with her. At some point the conversation shifted to dreams/goals, and Emelia informed me that she intends to marry her best friend (for the past two weeks), Timothy. I asked what happened to Jonah, as she had said she was going to marry him just a couple of weeks ago. Emelia explained that when our families had last gotten together, Jonah indicated that he probably was going to marry someone at his current school, so Emelia had set her sights elsewhere. And it made sense to me that she would select Timothy because Kathy had just recently explained that she was married to her best friend. Emelia had been changing her designated best friend quite frequently, and I couldn't help but wonder whether/how Kathy's statement was coloring Emelia's perspective.

On my way to work afterwards, I had a most unusual experience. As I was leaving the L'Enfant Plaza metro station, a man was going down the up escalator. He stopped a little in front of me, and I walked past him. A few seconds later a second man was walking down the up escalator, and he was completely naked. He had a shirt or something loosely covering his genitals, but that was about it. I have no idea what was going on, only that I had no interest in trying to find out. His shoes and the rest of his clothes were at the top of the escalator, unable to follow the conveyor as it slid underground.

Tuesday at work (yes, I was working amid all these activities), we released a big item that I had worked on for a couple of years. I had a bit of pride in completing it, but the greater feeling was one of relief. It was a challenging, difficult, and often frustrating process, and I was glad to leave this portion of the project behind.

Tuesday evening, when I got home, Kathy was set for us to enjoy the nice weather to go to Lincoln Park for a picnic (Emelia's idea). I was beat and not up for it, and Hannah was showing signs of being tired too. Still, I did my best to rally and we went. Hannah insisted on holding both Kathy's and my hands on the walk over, and got upset when we weren't doing that. At one point she threw herself to the ground in a decidedly two-year-old way; unfortunately she's more used to the floor at home, and hurt herself on the harder surface. After a few cries she rebounded, and we got to the park a couple of minutes later. We stayed there for a few minutes, but it started to rain, so we hurried back home and ate the rest of the picnic on the living room floor. Hannah went to bed shortly after that, and with that, the 72-hour window into my life has elapsed.

Hide-and-Seek with a 3-Year Old

"I'm going to play hide-and-seek with the grown-ups. Try and find me."

Emelia runs upstairs, and closes her door. Kathy and I count from 10 backwards as she requests. The giggling commences as Kathy and I walk upstairs. We announce where we're looking as we walk the upstairs rooms.

"I'll look in the front room. No, she's not here."

"I'll look in our bedroom."

The giggling continues unabated.

"She's not in the bathroom."

"She's not in the linen closet."

"She's not in our bathroom."

"She's not in the washing machine."

"There's only one more place to look -- her bedroom."

We open to door to a giggling, quivering mass under a pink blanket on her bed.

"Is she under her bed? Nope."

"I bet she's in her dirty clothes pile -- nope."

"She must be in her dress-up bin. No, darn."

"Maybe she's in her diaper bin."

"That's too stinky -- if she's in there, I'm not looking."

Giggling, giggling.

"Is she in her bed?"

Kathy rips off the blanket. "Aha!"

Laughing, laughing.

"That was fun. Let's play again. I'll be easier to find next time."

Two Videos of Emelia on Halloween

Saturday morning, full of energy, and can't wait for her friends to arrive and go Trick-or-Treating.

And finally, it was time to get into costume. How exciting!

Damn -- has it already been a month?!

Guess I need to post something, so here's a video of Emelia at her cousin Karolina's birthday celebration while we were up in Stowe.

My Little Girl is Growing Up So Fast!

We're down to the last four days of having a nanny for Emelia. She's shared Avery (Nana) with Jonah for over two years, but this spring we decided that Emelia was ready for something different. On Tuesday September 1, she starts in a Montessori program on the Hill.

Emelia has been excited about going to school for a few months already. In May she went to the school for a little while so the school could see how she responded, and she LOVED it. When it was time for her to leave she started crying because she was having such a good time. Ever since, she's been asking when she was going to go to school again.

For me, the hardest part of the change isn't that she's growing up. It's that we're saying goodbye to Jonah and Avery. Jonah's still around the corner from us, and we'll have many chances to get together. But Jonah has been a pseudo-sibling for Emelia (ironically, Avery says they're sometimes mistaken for twins when she takes them to the park), they get along so well, and it's clear that they're a positive influence on each other. They'll go from seeing each other three times a week for 9 hours at a stretch to a couple of hours every week or so. We told Elisabeth of our plans to switch to the Montessori program and thought she might want to do the same with Jonah, but she wanted to stay with Avery. And so the two kids will take different paths, and it's left me feeling wistful. I don't think Emelia realizes that starting school means no more Nana and Jonah.

As for Avery, we've been happy with her, and know that she's been a major part of Emelia's growth and development. When we told Avery of our decision, she agreed with our assessment that Emelia's ready for something new, and that the Montessori program will work well for her. Avery had thought that we didn't need her next Monday and had made plans to watch Emelia's "replacement" Jack (Jonah is switching to a Tuesday-Thursday schedule starting this week), but as soon as I said we still needed her for that day, and asked if she could watch Emelia and Jack together, she immediately said she'd tell Jack's parents that she'd start the next day, and beamed over the thought of having one last day alone with Emelia. Avery has offered her services if we need some assistance due to Kathy's pregnancy or because of the birth.

To accommodate the school's five-days-a-week schedule (8:30-3), Kathy is returning to work five days a week, five hours each day (she'll pick up and drop off Emelia), compared with her current schedule of working a full work day on Monday through Wednesday and being with Emelia on Thursday and Friday. We're not quite sure how it'll work -- Kathy's taken advantage of those days off to run errands or have repair people over. We'll also avail ourselves of the school's after care some days, given that Kathy's work will occasionally require her past 3pm.

Regardless how it goes, it's another chapter in the adventure known as parenthood.

Hello Blogger My Old Friend...

...I've come to write on you again.

So I'm back. I thought I had nothing left to say that couldn't be covered in the twitter-like status updates on facebook. And maybe that was the case. But I decided that I still need to say it here, where I can store my footprints rather than have them wash away with the ebb and flow of all the other things that facebook compiles. The reason is simple -- I'm 40, and my daughter is 2. By the time she's 22, and maybe starting to learn about who her father is, I'll be a different person, and she'll never have known the person I am now. And I want her to have various anecdotes of who she was as a little girl, given that we'll undoubtedly have forgotten most of them unless they're recorded somewhere.

Of course, who I am as a blogger is not an accurate portrait of who I am -- it's what I choose/bother to share, and who I hold myself out to be in the public environment of this blog. Still, that'll have to do -- I have no desire to share everything.

And you the reader in the present are welcome to come along for the ride. It's a given that I'm writing for you too, not just future Emelia. Otherwise I could just keep a journal.
--
Now that that's out of the way, let's cover Hilton Head, where we spent the second week in June with my family for our annual vacation. Unlike last year, we drove down -- our direct flights being canceled last year, thereby requiring a connection, probably had something to do with it. Both coming and going, we stayed in Raleigh with our friends Margie and Chris, hitting a bit of the beer scene down there and seeing their new house (they closed on it the Friday we were in Hilton Head, meaning that we stayed in different places coming and going). They'll be up here this weekend for a wedding, and we're camping with them next weekend, meaning we'll be seeing them all four weekends in June. Seeing Margie, a college friend, was as close as I came to attending my 20th college reunion, as Hilton Head started the same weekend that was held.

Down in Hilton Head, the house we stayed at was amazing, as the family selection seems to be each year. We let others fight over the bedrooms with the ocean view, and grabbed the darkest room we could find in hope of sleeping in. It didn't work, as I think I was out of bed by 6:30 every morning except one.

The beach was lovely and the weather was pretty cooperative (mostly sunny, and only over 90 a couple of days). We had a good time for the first part of the week, and the absence of "Explosion Wednesday" that has been present in past years was a definite improvement. Still, by the end there was some strain, which probably started in earnest on Thursday with Dad's fixation on consuming the leftovers. If we had thought to turn his mention of them into a drinking game, maybe things would have stayed a little mellower, but I only just thought of it while typing this out. And besides, being plastered by 10am is not conducive to keeping up with children, of which six were present.

The newest child to enter the family's fold is three-month old Emily, daughter to my sister Shari. We met Emily on this trip, and she's a real cutie (and sweetie). Emelia loves babies, and she had been looking forward to meeting "Baby Emily" for months. The reality mostly seemed to meet her expectations. Throughout the week, Dad regularly interchanged the names of Emelia and Emily. I can't really blame him -- when we picked Emelia's name, we were concerned with picking a name that wasn't too close to others in the family, but Shari had her heart set on the name Emily for a long time, and stuck with it when the time came. As long as she keeps Emily west of the Rockies for the most part, I figure the country's big enough for both Emelia and Emily.

Emelia had a great time with her cousins -- she gets along with all of them (they all get along with each other), and at the end of the week, she was so sad that she had to say goodbye to everyone. Probably Emelia's favorite activity for the week was going in the pool, especially jumping in from the side and having one of us catch her. Her excitement at doing that resulted in her jumping a few times before the adult was ready for her, eventually resulting in stern lectures and time out of the pool because she forgot to ask if the adult was ready. Her next favorite activity was putting on various articles of her cousins' clothing -- she already has a shoe fetish that exceeds her mother's.*

Foodwise, easily the highlight of the week was the Dallas contingent's night in the kitchen. Kim started us off with afternoon queso that was delicious. For the actual meal, Josh led off with crabcakes that were fantastic. Next up was a tasty salad course that Josh and Hunter prepared that included a goat cheese medallion covered in crushed pecans. As for the main course, most people were served 3-inch thick steaks that received universal acclaim, while Hunter, Kathy and I went with 10-ounce tuna steaks that were some of the best I've ever had. After taking a bit of time to digest, Kim brought out poundcake topped with creamcheese frosting and fresh fruit -- fairly simple but so good. In case you're wondering what we did for our night of cooking, we volunteered to make dinner the night we arrived (4pm check-in), so we kept it simple with ground turkey tacos. Our meal was well received (as were all the other meals the various family members prepared, lasagna by Dad/Mom/Shari and BBQ chicken by Rebecca & John), but it certainly belonged in AA compared to Josh, Hunter, and Kim's major league offering.

So we survived another year, even thrived at times, and Josh and Kim get to pick next year's place. That they haven't already is something of a miracle considering how much Mom was looking at places for them to select. Collectively, our family is crazy enough to think that the destination should be all set up a full year in advance. Last night, Josh and Kim threw up their hands by sending around a list of six possible houses in four different locations, and seeking feedback. Our response is simple -- all the houses look lovely, and we'll be happy with whatever you choose. They're not getting out of their responsibility that easily!
--
* - At least it exceeds it now that Kathy's somewhat reformed.

Parenting 101

No, I'm not teaching it, I'm taking it. I have the prerequisite of a kid, and the course is taught daily.

In last night's class, we had an overtired two-year old being silly and manic while we were trying to have her eat at the table with us. At one point Emelia put her feet up against the table and pulled the tablecloth over her legs. It wasn't that big of a deal, but Kathy asked her to put her feet and the tablecloth down. She refused, and I told her that if she didn't do what her mother had asked her to do, she would be removed from the table and put in the chair in the corner. Emelia then put her feet and the tablecloth down, and for the rest of dinner pretty much left both alone.

A few minutes later, while Kathy and I were talking, Emelia took her cup and poured the contents (water, fortunately) onto the table. Kathy was very angry and said so, and told Emelia to go into the other room while Kathy and I finished dinner. Emelia burst out crying, and Kathy literally walked her into the other room because Emelia wouldn't go there on her own. After a minute or so in the living room by herself, she stopped crying, and a minute after that, we had finished eating, and Kathy told her she could come back to the dining room.

Kathy picked her up, and I asked her if she understood why she had been sent into the other room. She responded, "Because I was crying." I told her that wasn't why, and explained why we were unhappy with what she had done. Apparently, it still didn't stick, because as Kathy was putting her to bed, Emelia restated her misconception that she was punished for crying.

When Kathy came back downstairs, she asked me if we were being too demanding. I thought about it for a minute, and answered that Emelia knew that what she was did was not ok, so from that perspective there was no problem. Where I thought we might be being too demanding was in that we are asking her discern the degree of unacceptable behavior. In other words, she knows that some behavior isn't ok, but it's minor enough that we don't necessarily enforce it. Then there's other behavior that she's told is unacceptable, for which she's been asked to stop doing, and she's told that there will be consequences if she does not (e.g., the feet and the tablecloth). But there aren't many actions that generate an immediate response with no warning, such as when she poured the water.

So at the end of all that, I said, "No, we're not being too demanding, and yes, we're being too demanding."

Seems like "kids try to push their boundaries" is applicable here (covered in the third chapter of the course book). Kathy's response was so traumatic to Emelia that apparently Emelia forgot exactly what triggered it (nice that such a small punishment can be so effective -- I'm enjoying that while it lasts). Hopefully though, enough stuck either from the incident or our later explanations that she won't pour water on the table again. And so she'll begin to learn that doing things she knows she shouldn't can have consequences she doesn't like, so that maybe she won't do them. I figure that the key words from in this paragraph are "hopefully" and "begin."

I wonder what sort of grade I'm going to get in this class (even though the final is a LONG way off).

A Very Long Post About Short Nights and Accompanying Days of the Holiday

On Night 1, Tuesday, December 23, I get back from picking up the rental car at around 6:45. Emelia is taking a late nap, and given how long the night would be, we let her sleep while we light the Chanukah candles and pack the car. She wakes up as we're finishing the packing, and we bring her down to open the rest of her major Chanukah presents so we don't have to take them up to Connecticut. After eating a quick dinner, we're able to get on the road by 8:15, already past when Emelia normally goes to sleep. Only an hour in, we stop for caffeine, figuring that most of it should have left our systems by the time we'd want to go to sleep upon arrival. While I'm inside the Rest Area, Kathy explains to the still-awake Emelia that Mommy and Daddy would need to stay awake, but that she should go to sleep. The incredibly empathetic child of ours is determined to bear the burden with us, and refuses to go to sleep despite our encouragement. In fact, whenever we push her to sleep, she pushes back, and in so doing stays up many hours past when she ever stays up. Finally, at 1am, she drifts to sleep, giving her about an hour before we stop at my in-laws house in Connecticut. She wakes up at that point, as we bring all the luggage in and get situated in the room we're staying in. The trundle bed designated for her is high enough off the ground that we don't want to risk her falling onto the tile floor, as she still sleeps with a bumper in her own bed. So at around 3am, I climb into the trundle, and Emelia sleeps in the queen bed with Kathy.

Day 1 begins at 7:15 when I awake to the light outside. I try to get the dogs out of the room quietly, but the room is cramped for three people and two dogs, and it's hard for me to get out of the room without waking Emelia. So soon everyone is up, and the day gets going. Emelia is able to take a three hour nap during the day, but that's not uncommon for her, and she still could have used many hours more. I sneak in about a 45 minute nap myself. Kathy's sister Suz gets home from work around 5:30, and she comes bearing a growler of IPA from the best brewery in the state. I thank her, and those of us who enjoy such beverages quickly consume the contents of the growler in their entirety.

Night 2 commences when we're able to get Emelia to bed around 8pm, as the excitement of Christmas Eve and all the presents in plain view has hit her. The small Chanukah present she opens does nothing to diminish her desire to open the multitude of presents sitting under the tree. The trundle has been moved out of the room, and Emelia sleeps on a single mattress that rests on the floor. Kathy heads to bed around 9, and I follow suit about an hour later.

At 5:15, Day 2, a.k.a., Christmas, begins when Emelia wakes up and won't go back to sleep, so the lot of us exit the room and have a leisurely morning. We tell Emelia she must wait for her Aunt Suzie to get up before we open the presents, and she's pretty good about that. All the same, when the presents are finally opened, I consider the change in Emelia's demeanor. At her birthday less than two months earlier, she had taken delight with each present, not entirely sure about the whole concept. But with the experiences of that event and the opening of Chanukah presents, she has moved into full-fledged present mode, where she wants more more more. Given that many presents remain, however, awaiting the return of Emelia's cousins from Christmas at their father's, Emelia's present thirst remains unslaked.

In the afternoon, we take a short walk with the dogs, all of us glad to stretch our legs, both for the simple sake of exercise, and to address the gluttony that accompanies the holidays at my in-laws, the result of Mom's delight in holiday mail-order foods, both main courses and desserts. Mom always makes full breakfasts, and although lunches are somewhat tamer, dessert follows it and most dinners. After we get back from the walk, we have a little down time before we head out the door for what is becoming our tradition of sushi for Christmas dinner. We had done Chinese for several years, in honor of my Jewish roots, but given that we all enjoy sushi much more, the tradition has changed. We are not alone, because although we had lit the candles for Chanukah before we left, people at another large table at the restaurant bring a menorah and do the prayers there.

Night 3 starts upon our return from dinner. Emelia goes to sleep as soon as we get back, but still it's after 8pm. Again Kathy goes to sleep before I do, but neither of us are ready for the 3am wake-up cries of Emelia after she fell out of bed. Kathy is the one who responds, but nothing she does is able to get Emelia to go back to sleep. I finally suggest bringing Emelia into our bed, and she settles right in after that, getting back to sleep around 4.

Day 3 starts around 7, when Emelia and I get up, along with the dogs, and leave Kathy to grab more shuteye. Kathy comes upstairs around 9. The day is uneventful but relaxing, as generally all the days have been.

Night 4 begins shortly after dinner. Emelia stays up for a little bit, but is rubbing her eyes and so to bed she goes. Kathy quickly follows suit, but I stay up for a while. When I finally decide to go to sleep, I have it in mind to sleep in my nephew's room with the dogs (he and his sisters don't return from their father's until Sunday night), hopefully letting everyone get a decent night of sleep. I come into the room to turn off the light Kathy left on for me, and when she stirs, I tell her my plan. Despite being fairly quiet, Emelia wakes up during my maneuver, and starts calling "Daddy." This was a new experience for me, as she generally wants Kathy when she's upset. The result is that I can't get out of the room without Emelia going into loud cries of "Daddy." I finally end up putting her into our bed and stay there with her, hoping to have her fall asleep so I can go back upstairs. No such luck, as every time I move she looks over to make sure I'm still there. The dogs by this point have come downstairs and I've put them into the room. Emelia starts positioning herself laterally, taking up more of the bed than can permit three of us to sleep together. I sneak off to the bathroom, and still she calls out for me, so I return and climb into her bed. I try to sleep, and according to Kathy I sleep for a bit (my snores gave me away), but it's not a restful sleep, and I resolve to go back upstairs to try to sleep, a sentiment Kathy encourages so she can sleep. Damned if Emelia doesn't start crying out after me again, and it's worse than fingernails on a chalkboard to have her cries tearing at me as I exit without answering them. Kathy comforts her successfully at last, and after a while of lying in my nephew's bed, I do in fact get all the way to sleep by 1am.

Day 4 begins around 6:15, and after lying in bed for a few minutes, realizing I won't fall back asleep, I hear Emelia downstairs. So I go down there, and relieve Kathy so she can go back to sleep. Kathy grabs another hour or so, and after breakfast, Emelia decides she neither wants to stay in her pajamas or get dressed. Thus, she spends half an hour giggling wildly while running around in nothing but her diaper. After we all finally get dressed, we hit the post office to send a misdirected Christmas present to Texas. Another day, another nap for me, and I actually clear an hour this time. Emelia tops that by a goodly amount, nearing four hours.

Night 5 begins optimistically, as Emelia goes to bed before 8, Kathy follows at 9, and I'm in bed by 10. All is well until Kathy has to go to the bathroom at 4:30, which wakes up Emelia. To stop the crying, Kathy brings her into bed with us, but she's really not interested in going back to sleep. However, she is enjoying kicking my stomach. Around 5:30, Kathy takes Emelia from the room, muttering something about us leaving Wednesday instead of Saturday, and I'm able to fall back asleep. Said sleep is ended shortly before 7, when Junebug decides that she needs my attention.

And here we are in Day 5. Kathy has rescinded her Wednesday departure statement, and Emelia is a whirling dervish of activity. I have no idea what the night will bring, but I expect the feeling of dread to start overwhelming me about the time we light the candles for the last night of Chanukah.

Another Year Has Flashed By

Yep, Emelia is two. So without further ado, here are some recent photos of her.

Swing

A swing in the country looks so inviting. The entire scene could be from a postcard -- the swing is just a chain that hangs from a tree, with a board at the bottom of the loop held in place by two holes. It's a warm sunny day, no wind, one of those beautiful days that seem to appear right after a big storm, and the stream that runs underneath looks so tranquil.

"Emelia should get on it."

"She can't hold on by herself."

"I'll go on with her."

"No, I'll do it."

I sit down and put Emelia on my left hip, keeping my left arm on her. I hold the right side of the chain, Emelia takes the left and holds me with her right hand. I gently push off the ground and swing out over the stream. Back and forth and in circles we swing, never very far or fast, just for the sake of motion. The camera is out trying to capture both of us, but Emelia is frequently looking in the wrong direction. She's enjoying herself, looking back at the tree, the bank of the stream, Kathy smiling at her. An occasional hand comes out and pushes us, but it's never a hard push.

In an instant the board flips to vertical, and down we go into the stream. There's no time to react, it's all instinct keeping the grip with my left hand on Emelia. She never touches the ground, just remains aloft while my other three limbs are in the mud. Emelia starts to cry, but she's physically fine -- she has a couple of red marks from where I hold her tight, but they're gone by the next morning. She's scared, but she gets over it before too long. Soon enough, she's more worried about Daddy, and that he's ok. I reassure her that I'm fine despite my muddy legs. I get a few abrasions and my pinkie's a bit banged up, but she doesn't notice those (and I'm certainly not going to point them out).

We head back, ready to enjoy the rest of the day engaged in safer activities.

Maine Vignette No. 4

A Milestone Reached

Brief naps after the wedding on Friday provide insufficient rest after Thursday night's drama, so we head to bed fairly early, especially knowing we want to hit the road early the next morning. Unfortunately, around 11pm, Emelia is back up complaining of a tummy ache, crying out "Poopy!" just as she did the night before. Her cries don't reach the level that they did the previous night, but all the same, it takes over two hours for her to start feeling better. A little after 1am, she asks for some milk, so I get up to prepare some for her. As the milk is warming, she gets up out of the bed where she's been lying next to Kathy, and starts playing in the kitchen. When the milk is ready, she drinks it all up, and seems quite content.

Then I tell her it's time for bed, and she starts screaming. She continues to cry when I put her back in her crib, and she even screams. As tired as I feel, I figure I might be able to sleep through the noise. She cries out, "Mommy!" several times, and gets no response. Then she cries out "Up Please!" but no one gets her. Then she cries, "Poopy!" several times, and Kathy gets up.

"Put her down!" I hiss. "Don't you see what she's doing?"

There's a pause, and Kathy puts her back down. Kathy wants to comfort her baby, and she can't be sure that she isn't genuinely hurt. I'm figuring it's manipulation pure and simple, but even if it isn't -- we can't stop the hurt, but sleep can. The screams return, but within 20 minutes she's sound asleep, and shortly after that we are too.

Maine Vignette No. 1

A Long Night

Tom and Anna's wedding is Friday morning at 10:30am, and Anna has asked Kathy to come over around 9. Emelia woke up crying Thursday evening at 11pm, saying "Poopy" over and over again. Her stomach hurts, and there's nothing we can do for her except comfort her. Kathy does this for a few hours, but as time passes the intensity of Emelia's cries increases, to the point that as the waves of pain hit her, she's screaming "Poopy Poopy Poopy!" and writhing on the bed next to Kathy, grabbing her crotch in extreme distress. We have no medication for stomach aches, no house phone, no signal for our cell phones, and no hospital or emergency clinic within 30 minutes of us. At 2am, Kathy says we have to do something, so we get dressed and go out to the car, in the wind and moderately fierce rain, and drive several minutes until we get a cell signal. I pull over and call my father, the retired pediatrician, seeking his advice. He says to go to the emergency room, because if she's constipated, they'll be able to help. We drive into the nearest real town, searching for a hospital, not at all sure where one might be located. We go past the pharmacy and grocery store, where we hoped to find some sort of medication to provide relief, but they're both closed. Meanwhile, Emelia seems to be doing ok, her cries have evaporated and we consider simply driving back. Dad calls and says that if she's constipated, the problem will return unless we get it removed. So we follow the blue signs with the "H" until, on the far side of town, we find a hospital.

I'm struck by the contrast of my trip to the emergency room, not even four weeks earlier -- the emptiness of the facility, and the immediate response to our arrival. An intake receptionist gets our insurance info. As soon as she's done that, a nurse gets Emelia's vital signs and asks for a description. She then escorts us to a room, and five minutes later, a doctor arrives and examines Emelia. He feels her stomach and declares that Emelia has a lot of gas, and orders X-rays to confirm his diagnosis. Within minutes we head to radiology, which shortly thereafter confirms the doctor's diagnosis that Emelia has a lot of gas. The doctor sends us home with suppositories. Emelia falls asleep on the drive back, and she doesn't awake when we get back to our cottage -- thus, she doesn't even get her medicine. It's 5am, and we climb back in bed, determined to get a couple of hours of sleep before the day begins.

A Long Overdue Experience

Kathy and I have been together for over ten years (married over nine), and never in that time had we gone camping together. About six years ago we even bought a tent, having the best of intentions. About three years ago, we made tentative plans to go camping with friends, but it didn't happen. Tom and Anna have asked us a few times to join them, and we never had. Finally this past weekend, we went camping with a group of beer-loving folk in the general area.

Initially we had planned to bring the dogs with us, but given all that we'd be bringing, we decided there really wasn't space for them in the car, so we reluctantly decided to leave them home (the fact that we're bringing them on a one-week vacation starting this upcoming weekend made it an easier decision to make).

We shared a site with our friends Margie and Chris, two veteran campers who drove up from around Raleigh to hang with us for the weekend. They tended to the fire, but otherwise I think we carried our weight at the site. We didn't need them to help set up our tent or anything, and in fact we pretty much took care of our stuff just fine. We didn't do anything too adventurous with the food, but hey -- it was our first time. At least we got a better sense of what would work and what wouldn't.

Emelia had a good time even though she was the only kid there. She enjoyed a nature show on owls (when the ranger asked what she was holding, before the ranger called on one of the kids with their hands up, Emelia called out, "Owl"), and we had to caution her not to go up to the multitude of deer at the campground. Many of the adults we were with were happy to engage Emelia in conversation, and she was delighted with all the attention. Our one hike with her was when we were leaving today -- we learned about a 1.6-mile hike that would take us to a great mountain view. Good thing we sought a short hike, because Emelia wasn't interested in walking any. Kathy carried Emelia on her back for about 2/3 of the way, and I carried her all but about 50 feet of the rest of the way. Getting Emelia to walk even that far was a rather arduous process, largely because she was overtired.

For the weekend, she slept way less than she normally does, and we spent too much time trying to get her to sleep. She finally went down around 11pm on Friday night, compared with her roughly 7:15 bedtime at home (tonight she was asleep before 7 given how tired she is). Between all the stimulation, the altogether new environment, and being asked to sleep in a tent for the first time, I suppose it's no surprise she had trouble. Saturday she fell asleep for her nap while being carried on Kathy's back, but even then it was only for about an hour (compared with 2+ at home). That night she got to sleep at around 9pm, after screaming herself beyond exhaustion. The people across from us (not in our group) said we reminded them of themselves twenty years earlier when their kids would do the same thing. They learned to let the kids stay up while camping, that they'd eventually exhaust themselves and in the meantime, the adults shouldn't ruin their time worrying about the kids getting enough sleep. I think it's advice we might follow next time.

And yes, I said next time -- both Kathy and I enjoyed ourselves enough that we'd like to go camping again, even regularly. I'm not sure we'll reach "regularly," but I feel confident that the next time will be sooner than ten years from now.

* * * * *

Before I end this post, I just wanted to comment on the obvious, that the birth of Emelia has made travel quite a bit more complicated. There are so many things that go into planning and prepping a trip with a small child that aren't an issue when the travelers are self-sufficient adults. Despite this change, my trip planning essentially hasn't changed a bit -- I take care of myself, and leave Kathy with having to take care of Emelia as well as herself. Part of this is due to the fact that Kathy is home with Emelia on Thursday and Friday, when most trip prep happens, but it's also because I'm lazy about this aspect of parenting. Kathy occasionally grumbles about this (justifiably), but generally does it graciously, and always does it splendidly. So I wanted to take this corner of this blogpost to publicly acknowledge all she does to make travel great. The fact that she's mostly a homebody who'd just as soon hang out at home for leisure, while I'm the one who would travel more if time and money allowed it, makes what she does all the more wonderful. This is just one more reason why I consider myself a very lucky man. Thank you Kathy.

The Weekend in Five

1. We went to Minnesota this past weekend to attend Kathy's 15th college reunion. Kathy went to Carleton, a small liberal arts college roughly 40 minutes from Minneapolis, which Kathy's Mom also attended. We had a great time -- I'd met a decent number of her classmates over the years, and enjoyed hanging out with both them and the ones I met this weekend. We got into Minneapolis in the late afternoon (note to self -- when flying with Emelia, it's worth booking the direct flight over the connecting one, even if it costs a little extra or we have to schlep to Dulles), which gave us enough time to check into the hotel we'd reserved right by the airport and grab a bite before it was time for Emelia to go to sleep. I have to say that most of the time, Hotwire is the best option for reserving hotels. We ended up in a lovely suite that included a better-than-average complementary breakfast for less than $60 including taxes.

2. After Emelia went to sleep Thursday evening, my friend Dan picked me up and we hit a couple of beer bars -- the selections were a bit disappointing, as not much new was available. During the evening, Dan apologized for forgetting a can of Surly Bitter Brewer that he'd intended to bring, and encouraged me to hit a beer store on my way out of town to grab some of my own (Surly is only a couple of years old, but arguably is the best brewery in town. It also provided a great private tour as part of last year's RateBeer Summer Gathering). I told him that we'd be heading out early in the morning, long before the beer stores would be open. I was, after all, in town to attend Kathy's reunion, and the fact that I was even able to get with Dan was a bit of a bonus. Apparently, having such a healthy attitude was something that the Beer Gods smiled upon, for that afternoon, when we were hanging out with Kathy's classmates and the alcohol began flowing, someone walked by with a mixed case of Surly products, including Bitter Brewer. I asked him what the deal was, and learned that one of Kathy's classmates is married to the founder of Surly, and that she was providing a few cases for the event. The fact that I since discovered that I had already rated it doesn't bother me in the least, as I enjoyed it there, along with the other three Surly beers that were in the cooler.

3. Out of a recognition of the noise that would be created by partying alumni, the rooms for the alums with children were on the top floor of the dorm we stayed in, the fourth floor. I know they meant well, but the fourth floor was a bit of a haul to bring all of Emelia's accouterments (including the portable crib), seeing as how there were no elevators. Plus it was a bit of a haul if you wanted to hang with folks while a child napped, but still wanted to check on her on occasion. And it was warm -- being part of a relatively junior class, we weren't in a dorm with A/C, and the sun beat down upon the very windowed rooms all day long (and heat rises). It cooled down at night, but it was tough for Emelia to fall asleep for her nap, and even harder to do so in the evening while the room at its peak temperature. Friday night, Emelia wouldn't go to sleep, and Kathy finally brought her downstairs around 9pm. After a little time in the relative cool, we went back upstairs to try to get her to sleep. Our efforts before 10pm came to naught, as it was then that the fireworks began, seemingly right next to the building. Emelia wasn't too scared (I calmed her down pretty easily when she started to stress), but she certainly wasn't going to sleep right then. Finally at around 10:30, only ~4 hours later than usual, Emelia fell asleep for the night (she usually goes to sleep just after 7:30, but Minneapolis is one hour behind DC).

4. On Saturday, one of the activities was a porch party at the house of a couple from her class that own a house just two of blocks from campus. They have kids, and there were plenty of toys to keep Emelia occupied. She was mostly exploring the toys by herself, and while many kept her interest during the time we were there, Emelia eventually settled on a few dolls with a stroller. As is her wont with dolls, she was transfixed, particularly with an anatomically correct boy doll. At one point I explained to her that these were dolls to play with while she was there and that she'd have leave them, but I didn't have much hope that she fully understood what I was saying. And indeed, when it was time to go, she let loose the loudest series of shrieks I'd ever heard pass her lips. Ah well, these things happen I suppose, but Kathy felt pretty embarrassed (I mostly tried to suppress my laughter).

Emelia was fully over it by the time we were about a block from dinner. From that distance we saw Shizuka and Kazumi -- Emelia shouted, "Kaz," and Kaz shouted, "Melia!" Well, Kaz did that at first, but pretty quickly she noticed that we were walking with Greg (classmate to Shizuka and Kathy), and she started shouting, "Greg!" After the mothers put their daughters down, what ensued was the classic movie scene parody, with the two of them running toward each other, followed by Kaz running right past Emelia to greet Greg.

5. Carleton doesn't just recycle, it composts. At meals, pretty much everything except the metallic butter wrappers went into the compost bin, including, when we ate outside, the "plastic" (corn or potato) utensils and cups. Kathy and I thought it was fantastic, and when I got back home, I discovered that Carleton has a host of significant green initiatives. I know colleges and universities are usually at the forefront of such efforts, but it makes us wonder how soon such efforts will become mainstream.

Maybe You're Wondering

This girl of ours, about two weeks shy of turning 18 months old, continues to amaze us. We estimate her vocabulary at well over 200 words, and she's starting to use possessive, i.e., "Mommy's keys," "Daddy's socks," and yes, even "Melia's shoes." We figure sentences aren't too far off, but it's not like we have experience with such things.

Last week she pointed out the moon before it was dark out, which i thought was pretty cool given that all her picture books would have shown the moon at night. Her favorite word at the moment is "again" -- yes, she's started the long stage of wanting to have things repeated. Mostly it's reading a book to her several times in a row, which, given how many times we've read all her books already and how short many of her books are, can be pretty tedious. Speaking of reading, she constantly wants to be read to, handing us books aplenty whenever we're inside. Not that she always sits through the reading of them. She walks and runs and, well, never seems to stop for as long as she's awake. Typical I suppose, but for a first-time parent, so exciting to experience with her. She tends to run off in the direction opposite of where we want her to go. Fortunately, she's not yet that fast.

As for manners, she's getting good about saying please ("peas"), and when she forgets, she follows our prompting pretty well. It seems that she understands the word to mean "I want X," which at one level sounds about right for a toddler, but in another way I guess that really is how it's used. "Thank you" ("dan-q") is a little more erratic right now, but she does use it, particularly when prompted. She also has started saying "Bless you" when someone sneezes, something she obviously learned from her Nanny. Kathy sneezes a bunch, and years ago I started saying "Gesundheit," "Labriot," and "Salute" in addition to "Bless you," and Emelia shows no inclination to adding those other sneeze responses.

Last weekend we bought her a doll at a neighborhood yardsale-- she's been grabbing other children's dolls at the park (and being unwilling to give them back), so we figured we should. Despite the stereotype of a girl having a doll, we didn't push this in the slightest. We got it because it was obvious that Emelia wanted one. Emelia named her doll Ogga -- Kathy and I disagree on how it should be spelled, but since I'm the one with the blog, I'm putting it in writing first. ;) Ogga has some purple marker on the side of her face (though after Kathy's ministrations, it's not as severe as when we bought it), but as one might expect, this isn't a problem to Emelia -- she absolutely adores Ogga.

Emelia is fascinated with water, and constantly asks us for some just so she can play with it. We have a metal sugar bowl with two handles that she asks us to put water in -- sometimes she drinks during the course of playing with it, and sometimes it ends in a mess. But even then, it's only water. She also really enjoys drawing, whether on her magnetic board or with markers on a white board at her little table.

Of course, despite our best efforts, she's not always fun. She often will cry as soon as she doesn't get her way. The crying has an instantaneous "off" switch too, so that she'll stop all at once if something else gets her attention (or if we're foolish enough to give into a demand/request that we had already said no to). In fact, she's much more likely to cry over not getting her way than she is when she falls -- she's a tough little cookie. She continues to test us, intentionally or otherwise -- she's been taking off her clothes, and her diaper, when she's in her crib. She hasn't done it in about a week, so we hope she's past this stage (we haven't entirely relied on her to be done with it-- Kathy bought onesies that we put Emelia in when she goes to bed, and so far she's hasn't taken one of those off (but we're sure that's only temporary)). Still, on the balance there are a lot more laughs and smiles than there are groans and instances of "Here, you take her!"

She certainly has enriched our lives.