creidylad: (Default)
One or both of the girls sat down at my computer and randomly bought from the iTunes store:

A surprisingly long list of random music )

My first thought is -- I had no idea they could do this much damage as I have it set to prompt me for a password before purchasing music, so I must have left iTunes open on my desktop right after a purchase, and I am never doing that again.

My next thought is -- what a great opportunity to get to know some new music! I know only a handful of these artists remotely, and am eager to hear thoughts on all of them from anyone who has heard of them.

My third thought is -- how on earth did THESE SONGS get selected? I cannot figure out what weird random search resulted in them turning up, or how clicking one led naturally to the next, except by the random association of what people tend to purchase together. I imagine this might be clearer if I understand most of this music at all. Any thoughts on that?
creidylad: (Default)
Hours of sleep last night: 4ish
Cups of coffee consumed average day: .5
Cups of coffee consumed today: 3
Computers that would not burn a digital photo to CD: 2
Hard copies of photo needing copying found: 0
Hard copies of class photo picked up after driving across town and embarrassing myself: 1
Number of non-working scanners spread across 2 households: 2 (1 if you don't count the one we ditched)
Number of printers that would not print spread across 2 households: 2
Proper meals eaten thus far today: 0
Truffles accidentally consumed while they were sitting there in the office with me while NOTHING WOULD WORK: 3
Projects for end-of-year-party next week absolutely needing to be finished by 2:15 pm today: 1
Projects for end-of-year-party next week finished by 2:15 today: 0

Walks in the woods to calm down: 1
Walks in the woods resulting in 2 year old sitting in mud and trying to fling herself in the brook: 1

I am going to Belizzi in a few minutes to meet Rosanne so that the kids can kill each other in the playroom and we can sit together and talk like sane adults.

And eat salad, because I done blown my points on those truffles.

....

So I will get the 'thanks for a great year' projects done before Tuesday's party and the kids will sign during the party and the world will not end.

And I will not say yes to being a class mother next year.
creidylad: (Glory Glee)
I am buckling into her car seat and Glory says, "Great job helping me buckle my car seat, Mommy."

Glory rolls over at 5 am and pokes one eye open and asks, "Where... is... my... baby... elephant?" I tell her, soothingly, "In the living room." She goes back to sleep.

Glory is counting the ladybugs in the Ten Little Ladybugs book: "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, twelve, sixteen..."

Glory sits a moment looking out the window then turns to me, "Guess what, Mommy!" I say, gamely, "What?" And she says, "Glory, Zoe, Daddy, all break eggies, mix pancakes, flip pancakes. Gwen, Hannah, Scott make pancakes." And she beams at me. (This is true, we had two sets of girls with two daddies working in the kitchen that day).

Glory looks around randomly day or night and wonders, "Where's my friend Tony?" We ask her where -- she says at work or on the train or in the city. She will also ask for her friend Mommy, her friend Gwennie, and her friend Daddy.

I pick Glory up at pre-preschool and she whooshes up into my arms and hugs me and says, "I so love you!"

I have trouble remembering to write about these things. But they are worth noting down.

ETA: Behind the cut, Glory and I with shoggoth and volcano )

Next up -- Gwen!
creidylad: (Glory Glee)
We drive past the train station.

Glory: Mommy, get Tony. Train.

Me: No, I'm sorry, sweetie. Remember, Tony took the airplane to go see his mommy and daddy.

Glory: (remembering) In soda.

Me: That's right, in Minnesota.

Glory: Ah, no. In soda. Tony in soda.

[livejournal.com profile] zantony, I hope you are having fun bathing in all that sweet, carbonated beverage. You are missed.

Snail

Nov. 4th, 2007 08:32 am
creidylad: (Glory Glee)
"Snail. Issa snail."

Glory's snail picture

So sayeth Gloriana, who is a day or two shy of 23 months, and just drew it. Then she drew about twenty more little spirals she tells are snails, as well.
creidylad: (Default)
There are eleven kids in Gwen's class. Four of them were Spider-man this year. Two were red Spider-man, and two were black Spider-man. This included the twins, who were split on the red/black axis.

Gwen, on the other hand, was a pirate. There were many pirates in the Kindergarten Halloween Parade overall, but Gwen was the only girl pirate that we could see.

She's been practicing her "Yo ho ho!" and "Yarrrr!" (both almost impossible for her to say spontaneously.)

Pictures later.
creidylad: (Glory Glee)
Tony has just gone to take a nap.

Glory decided I should have a nap, too. And then it was time to wake up. ("Kup! Kup!") and that I had a dream. I asked what my dream was about and she said, "Salad. Eating. Salad." I said, "I was dreaming about eating salad?" and she said, "Yeah."

She now wants to take a nap with her monkey and dream about salad, too. Even more than she wants to dream about strawberries, which she is currently eating.

Edit: Tony, per Glory, is dreaming about his broken blanket. ("Blankie. Broken. Oh." -- with 'Oh' said in a calculatedly heartbroken tone.)
creidylad: (Default)
From last year's teacher, received last night:

Hi,
Just writing to say good luck tomorrow! I'm sure you're all excited and nervous, but I know it will be great.
Keep in touch.
Kathy


From this year's teacher, received 20 minutes after the end of class:

Hi Cordelia,
Gwen had a great day. She is such a happy and bubbly child. She enjoyed
playing in the kitchen area and with the flannel board. She is already
naming most of the students in class, including the children she just
met today!
Mary Lou


Gwen is in good hands.

Gwen giving Mary Lou an apple
creidylad: (Default)
So, I should also write a bit of an update about the girls.

Gwen: Gwen is doing really well. She has her assisted speaking device now (the Vanguard), which is a bit large and clunkly but will soon be replaced by the Vantage -- the same device but smaller and more portable, and is learning how to use it at a steady clip. The other day she wanted pasta soup and found the 'macaroni' icon then went to the abc screen and spelled out S O U O P. Then she hit the button to make it all be said together: Macaroni Soup. She giggled and hit it a few times. I was insanely proud -- I had no idea she knew how to spell soup! (We of course got her pasta soup, pronto!) She's intensely clever, but I worry all the time she's off in here own world too much and is so used to the idea that nobody will understand her abstract thoughts and questions that she's given up on trying to communicate them. For instance, her wonderful uncle, [livejournal.com profile] zantony, gave her The Giving Tree for the holidays, and we read it together. Afterwards, she was making great eye contact and looked so contemplative, and was slowly and thoughtfully saying a lot of things, half-questions, half-statements. In these I could understand the word 'tree' repeatedly but... that was it. I tried as hard as I could to make supportive and encouraging responses and tried to get her to repeat things to give me a second chance to understand but... she wandered off. Sigh. And the Vanguard ("talk box") is not yet helpful in situations like these as she doesn't yet know how to express complex, abstract thoughts with it. (neither do I for that matter. I worry it really can't be used that way.) She remains very interested in shepherding her little sister -- both for the sake of safety and for the sake of keeping her out of her own toys.

Glory continues to be a wonder -- but this week a very congested and mildly flu-ridden wonder. She has many words -- words for fish and cat and bear and book and apple and eggs and a host of other things. Fish are her favorite thing ever -- so much so that [livejournal.com profile] ibizar and [livejournal.com profile] woldkill gave us a 10 gallon tank they weren't using and we now have it stocked with three rosie barbs and 2 tricolor "sharks". Running into Christopher's office to watch the fish antics is more or less Glory's favorite activity apart from chasing her big sister around the house. She's into everything, she loves to be read to, to do her peg puzzles, stack a few simple blocks... a host of things. Her other absolutely favorite thing is music of any kind -- she loves to play her simple percussion instruments, or to hit the music buttons on battery toys and bop around. She walks forwards and backwards and climbs flights of stairs and couches and I am pretty sure would fly if she could sprout wings.

And now... I'm cutting this a bit short, as Mom is about to come over and relieve me so I can take a shower. She's also bringing hot bagels. She really is awesome. I just wish we could talk instead of all the ranting and lectures.

Why I Typo

Oct. 6th, 2006 10:46 am
creidylad: (Glory Glee)
My typing has gone from sloppy to downright criminal lately. Here is a photoessay on why:

Here she is, happy on Mommy's lap, content to look at the Photobooth reflection of herself and mug for the camera. Note how both of my arms are busy.  )

More interested in being entertained now, Glory demands more attention. Conceivably in this mode she might be holding a toy and I could type around her in small spurts. Maybe. )

Here we see the result of what happens when Glory catches mommy trying to type -- or in general doing anything which does not distract the budding thief from mommy's glasses. Yoink! )

Now, here I am, with my hands free. But how I am meant to focus on anything when she's so damned cute (and the living room needs tidying so badly) is beyond me. )

You all see my problem, yes?

I should mention she's 10 months today; she has 8 front teeth plus molars. She can walk (unsteadily) down the hall. She climbs on stuff... not everything, but some things. She has two words, her favorite one of which is "hi" usually accompanied by an engaging wave and smile.

N.B. - edited several times to fix, you guessed it, TYPOS

Baby Steps

Sep. 9th, 2006 05:12 pm
creidylad: (Glory Glee)
Gloriana took four steps today. Four. She turned nine months old two days ago. She's been pulling up to standing since before our trip to MO. She's bright and happy and alert and loves music of all kinds. Right now she is beating a tattoo with a spoon against a wipes container. Upon seeing people she likes or trying to initiate contact she will wave one (sometimes two) arms and make a noise like, "Hiiiiiii." I think it is her first word, and she's been saying it a few weeks.

Gwen continues to excel in her big-sister role, though of course she is attention-seeking in some negative ways that have nothing to do with the baby. She is careful with her, and is showing a new emotional attachment.

Two days ago she accidentally bumped the baby, who fell down and started to cry. I said to look at her little sister, and how sad she was because Gwen made her fall down by accident. Gwen became crestfallen, crossed the room, and hugged her. Which cheered her up. And made me swell with pride.

Three weeks of school-less vacation time has left Gwen very much at lose ends, which I expect to get worse next week in California. I'm looking forward to making our routine work once we're back.
creidylad: (Glory Glee)
Two days ago, she rolled over from back to front using her feet for leverage. Then she did it again.

Today she is doing it without something hard and perpendicular to the ground to push off of... I can see her getting her knees up under her when she desperately wants to move forward. Sometimes she manages to scoot backwards.

The whoozit is her favorite toy.

She is marvelously social. She loves to be sung to or spoken to or even looked at.

Two teeth now (the second came within two days of the first) and she wants to grab for all our food. We don't let her have it, of course, not yet... but soon.

Too soon.
creidylad: (Glory Glee)
Glory is four months old today.

Glory and her Mom, Four Months Old

Some brief notes about her milestones )

I'm not ready for time to keep moving this quickly.

Overheard

Feb. 19th, 2006 01:36 pm
creidylad: (Surprise!)
[livejournal.com profile] creidylad: Okay, here's her clean clothing, oh, and that blanket is dirty, here's the clean one.

[livejournal.com profile] mr_niggle: But she's still using this one!

[livejournal.com profile] creidylad: She's been using it for two days... if I just let you alone you'd never change their clothes or blankets or give them baths, would you?

[livejournal.com profile] mr_niggle: We done had our bath in May *

[livejournal.com profile] creidylad: Okay, it's important to keep little kids clean. People do this for a reason.

[livejournal.com profile] mr_niggle: ... well, I'd probably sponge them down or something.



* Bonus points if you can name the movie this is a quotation from
creidylad: (Default)
Some days I really wonder how to tell people what is up with my life. "I played with Baby all morning, she's still cuter than hell and learning lots. I remain insanely lucky." It doesn't make for a good read.

Ah, but speaking of good reads, I treated myself to a copy of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen this weekend. It was quite good, as [livejournal.com profile] zantony promised, and I'm looking forward to reading more and to the movie, but I keep wondering, what is Alan Moore's deal with rape plots? They've been in most of his work that I've seen date. I realize not all the main characters in the 'League' are meant to be sympathetic, but some of the stuff in this comic that seemed to be getting passed over as funny (a foray into a 'girl's reform school' type place plucked from Victorian erotica) actually was quite disturbing. BTW, here is a page of awesome footnotes to the whole comic book.

I gave up on reading The Amber Spyglass and loaned it to a friend. I think I am still technically in the middle of Kavalier and Clay.

Just as I'd typed all that, the phone rang. My contractor. He did show, yesterday, got most things done. Promised to return this afternoon to finish the last three... and when I heard his voice on the phone I think I got a little sharp. He was just calling to confirm that he was coming. Phew.

Meanwhile, took another quiz, pursuant to last week's revelation that I am an angel. This one claims I'm nurturing, which I guess is cool, but I don't actually see what it has to do with the angel in question. Also, despite motherhood, my ass is not actually that big.


Which ArchAngel are you most like?

brought to you by Quizilla
creidylad: (Default)
Gwen just outgrew 6-9 month size. She is just moving into 9-12 month size... so how can it be that her 12-18 sized pygamas are already a little snug? Ah, the jigsaw puzzle that is children's warddrobes...

My mother and I have each selected a heap of clothing for when she grows into 18 month size... everything my mother picked has embroidery and bright colors. Everything I picked is plain and either tan or grey or both. So it goes.

In quite other news, my contractor is virtually AWOL. I don't know when my backsplash is going up, or when my cabinets get glass, or when he's going to put up the microwave spacer or order the new knobs or put in my sink pullout or replace my hallogen lightbulb or clean up the pencil mark...

"Soon" he tells me. I'm still not sorry I went with him, but this had better be done before the end of the month...

Meanwhile, I think I am in denial about the fact that Patrick is coming to visit this weekend. THAT should be interesting.
creidylad: (Default)
Last year I woke up and Chris called me to tell me he was okay. Ten minutes later there were shouts from upstairs as my neighbors saw the second plane hit. I watched in edgy worry, feeling the baby in my belly, until the towers collapsed. Then I knew I couldn't be alone. My neighbors invited me upstairs, so I went, and spent the day with them. Like other New Yorkers, we were busy trying to locate our loved ones, finding people in downtown places to go for the night, breathing a sigh of relief at every friend and acquaintance who checked in to say they were OK.

In the weeks that followed, after the ash had settled and most of the smell had dissipated, the candles still stayed on the street corner, lit every night, renewed, with flags and peace symbols. The neighborhood still took food and donations to the local fire station (which had been one of the first on the scene).

We were a community. We looked into each others' eyes and felt our bonds through our grief. There was so much grief...

I miss them, miss Park Slope, miss my neighbors, miss the familiar faces on the street, miss the shopkeepers who had become part of my daily routine.

And missing them helps me not to think about American Express and my time there, and all the people I knew for a day or a week or a year while I was temping all over the WTC and WFC, all the people who could have been caught in the collapse or the flying debris or trapped above where the plane hit, people whose faces I saw plastered on 'Missing' ads for months every time I went to the doctor for a checkup during the pregnancy. Helps me not to think about all the tears I'd shed every time I had to use the payphone across the street from NYU, where the missing posters were plastered in an overlapping papier mache in sight of the place where the forensic teams were sorting dead body parts.

I can't make sense of any of this today. Working in those buildings, we always knew this was coming, every since the first attempt. Knew it either as a passing joke or a sick dread or a pit in our stomachs. I would think every day, "I can't keep working here; I must leave this place," and I did. I fled, leaving behind not just my fear but the disgust I felt at the swarms of faceless, grey-clad drones marching toward the subway every day. There was an old woman who stood at the exit from the overpass every day, where everyone leaving the WFC and heading into the WTC passed by. She could have been mine or anyone else's grandmother, and her incessant cry was, "Please help me, I'm so hungry." I would often stop at a fast food joint and bring her back something to eat, and she always looked dumbfounded and grateful. Not once did I see anyone else stop.

So there it all is, mixed in, unresolved, milling about in my mind and my heart and here I am, sure that it's not over, that hate isn't dead in the world, that New York is still a target. And I'm thinking, I need to get my daughter out.
creidylad: (Default)
Fussy baby problem solved. Put on some flashy music, dance around with exagerrated arm gestures, and the baby is cooing happily, even after I sit down to type, she's gotten interested in her toys again. All she wanted was a Mommy Show. I keep wondering, when she's older, will we dance around the living room together? We've got like this giant wall of tacky bevelled mirrors we're not able to get rid of without damaging the walls, so although not large, this space will be most excellent for a creative little girl to really get her groove on.

Today I was actually thinking of catching up on some of my reflections on visiting my husband's family down in Mississippi early in August. That all happened before I got my livejournal, but I'm still processing it all.

For one thing, let me start with the last part: our 14 year old niece came to visit from Pennsylvania after we got back. When she was last here, she stayed for two weeks and had a psychotic episode. It became obvious she'd been sexually abused at some point in her history. We wanted to keep her, but my father made it clear to us we would not be able to get her help, and that what she really needed was immediate admittance to a hospital-- but that no hospital in NY would take her as she wasn't yet a state resident, and wasn't on our insurance. It was heartbreaking, but we took her back to her mother with promises, from her mother, she'd get help right away.

Well. I'll make a long, painful story short. She didn't get help right away. She did finally have some, but whenever things got stable for her, she was ripped out of the environment. She got bounced a bit between her parents, became sexually active, started smoking...

And here she was coming to visit. She showed up in heavy makeup and teenager's typical failed attempt at fashionable attire, and... she was delightful. She'd become Wicca in recent months, and was interested in reading and learning as much as she could about it. She's already read a great deal. She told me in a world-weary tone she's tired of 'older men' and likes her current boyfriend, who is her own age and 'sweet.' It's hard to put my finger on what's changed... she strikes me now as someone who is comfortable with herself, and happy just to be in the world.

My husband took her and our other niece, the honors student, to see Les Miserables. The other niece (12) unfortunately didn't "get" it. The Wicca niece leaned over and whispered to her, "I think it's about redemption." Turns out she'd been reading Les Mis... in French! I think she got a lot out of the experience of seeing it on Broadway.

And why should Wicca make me so happy as a choice for her? I guess in part because it's a goddess-oriented religion so I'm happy she's breaking into a paradigm where women are valued. But its more than that. Part of me is just rudely pleased to stick it to her bible-thumping father (an at least temporarily reformed drinker/gambler). Partly I think I'm glad she's found a religion that will bring her into an alternate mindset, break her out of the small-town-hicksville outlook a little, have her searching in books and in her soul for meaning instead of in a church. It will challenge her.

It was a pleasure to take her around the city. We in fact took her to a store called Enchantments, which is (I gather) sort of the Wiccan mecca of New York City. Her eyes lit up. I bought her a book and some herbs there, and at Barnes and Nobles we got her a tarot deck with explanatory book. She really got a kick out of the Village, I think, and was articulate about what she was seeing and thinking and why she found it so interesting. I found myself sorry the visit was so short, and looking forward to the next one.
creidylad: (Default)
Tonight my father said to me,

"Stop giving me directions, just tell me what to do!"

(I was, at the time, trying to explain that he needed to press and /then/ push to work the buttons that control the handle of my daughter's car seat, which she was strapped into at the time, and was wobbling dangerously atop a table.)

Mamma

Aug. 28th, 2002 10:07 am
creidylad: (Default)
It's started! My daughter has started to randomly go 'momomomomom.' It began last night. Every time she does it (every other minute) I pop up and go, that's right, MAMMA, me (tapping my chest), I'm MAMMA. Does she get it? Does she like the response? Is this why she keeps repeating herself? I think this is how language begins. What if I'm wrong? What if my daughter is tottering on the brink of being an early talker and somehow I'm not sending her the right signals of encouragement and reinforcement, so she misses her chance, and then doesn't try talking again for months or even years and her whole schedule of brilliance is thrown off thus preventing her from writing her first symphony at age twelve? Will she hate me for it? AEIIIIII!

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