Interpreter In Chief

I remember that when D was small and I was pretty much his constant companion, I felt that much of my work could be categorized as "interpretation." I was his go-between, the one who was slowly but surely figuring out the difference between an "I'm hungry" cry and an "I'm exhausted and fighting it like hell" cry.

Nowadays, the opportunities for interpretation typically run in the other direction. I don't need to explain D to the world, because he's pretty darned good at doing that himself. But I am explaining the world to him, or at least trying to.

There's a time lag, these days, between his questions and my answers, as I struggle for the words to describe phenomena and ideas that I barely understand myself. Today as we stopped at the pharmacy to pick up some medicine that helps out my under-producing thyroid gland, he asked why my body doesn't make enough on its own. "I'm not really sure, buddy," I said, "and I don't know if the doctors even know." "I wonder why my body makes enough?" he continued. "Maybe because I'm new? But I think Grandmother Wid's body makes enough, and she's REALLY old." He's working so hard to have it all make sense.

He also wants to know how wireless email works. I'm going to have to get back to him on that.

That's My Boy!

Ever since D was a little bitty thing, he's had an affinity for climbing. I've weathered more dirty looks than I can count in the last four or so years as I smiled while blithely letting him test his balance on anything and everything. This was not so much bravado on my part as it was faith; he always seemed quite sure of himself, and in fact only fell twice (that I know of), so...

Fast forward to our recent visit to Grammy and Grampy's house, where our little man discovered that the tree out front is... drumroll, please... a CLIMBING TREE!

In the closeup, he has just finished saying, "It's actually pretty easy."

I was a bigtime tree climber in my day, so this latest turn of events is really doing my heart good.

Eggcellent!

The "G's" are for Grammy and Grampy, of course. The spiral is Terri's signature contribution. And the half-tone green-blue number in the lower left includes racecar stylings by our favorite 4.5 yr. old... fun all around!

In other news, think of a song you like to sing and head on over here. SO cool! Let me know how that works out for you.

THIS is going to be fun!

Have you checked out Pandora yet? (Please don't tell me I am the very LAST person on the planet to figure this one out.) Pandora is a site that pretty much enables you to create your own radio station. Plug in some artists you like, and Pandora will analyze their commonalities and take some educated guesses about what else you might like.

This is a great invention that tempers the scariness of personalized content (soon we will listen only to those voices we have pre-approved, everyone drifting off into their own little bubble-world of one) by constantly offering the thrill of exploration and discovery. Hadn't heard of Garrison Starr until about 16 minutes ago.

Maybe I'm going to have to get an iPod after all.

Mah Jongg!

I have a good feeling about this...


After several awesome Mah Jongg evenings w/ Tarry and company, I got lucky earlier this month and was finally able to yell out, "Mah Jongg!" for the first time. So exciting!

So here is a photographic record of my moment of glory. Now if I could just learn how to do the dealer stuff at the beginning, I might have a future as a Mah Jongger.

Guess I'm Feeling Better

Couldn't resist. Laughter being the best medicine, and all. (Hat tip to the Red Queen.)

Words You'd Prefer Not To Hear

A dark spot on the xray. First thing Monday morning. That's the bad news.

The good news -- how quickly these things become relative! -- is that a root canal or two should do the trick.


I am so proud of myself that I felt something "off" in my body and actually MADE THE APPROPRIATE APPOINTMENT. This is a significant step forward for me, as my tendency is towards the "ignore it and hope it goes away" school of medical strategy.

The theory is that my two bottom front teeth, which bravely bore the brunt of the not-so-Benevolent Street impact all those years ago, have finally decided that they have had it. Or at least the nerves may have decided that feeling is overrated.

Decades of no trouble at all have given way, in my case, to some shot nerves. I'm sure there's a lesson in here somewhere.

How much will you pay me, squeamish reader, NOT to post the blow-by-blow here sometime next week? Stay tuned or avoid this site like the plague, depending on your tolerance for the imagined sound of a whirring drill...

Life Skills

That's D working on his shrug stretch, and SiriOm Singh showing him how it's done. D and I just finished a 6 week parent-and-kid yoga class, and as you can see, he really has his act together. Yoga is a fabulous all-family activity, especially because there's a good chance that the kids will be able to achieve poses that your grownup body can now only dream of. (At one point, trying to encourage me, D pulled my hand down to my ankle and said, "I'll hold it here until you get the hang of it, Mommy.")

Earlier this week, on his way upstairs to take a bath, D announced that he was feeling like maybe taking a shower instead. His other mom, who has been the bath meister ever since that first "how to bathe your baby" class in the hospital the day he was born, carefully talked him through the necessary steps while just as carefully staying out of his way. Out of the blue, and just like that, he has become a shower-taker, this boy who previously wanted to cover his face with a wash cloth when even a cup full of water was poured over his head.

I love watching him take on the new stuff in his life, and I hope that we'll get lots of these chances to stand there with him as he figures it all out.