Thursday, March 19, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Good Manners Will Only Get You So Far
I was playing with Anson a couple of days after he was hangin' with Pops (thanks, again, Pops!). We were sitting on the floor, playing with the shape sorter. Anson picked up the blue circle, and got quite excited.
Anson: "Da! Da!"
Mama: "Yes, that's a blue circle."
Apparently, Anson was well aware that he was holding onto a blue circle, and Mama was being rather dumb. He gave me a LOOK. He continued to get more excited, and I thought he wanted me to play with the shape sorter. I assisted (forced) his hand into putting the circle into the appropriate cut-out in the box. Was THAT a mistake! Anson very grumpily pulled the circle out of the shape sorter, and I could almost see him grumbling to himself about his stupid Mama. He physically opened the fingers of my hand, and thrust the blue circle into my palm.
Anson: "Da! Da!"
Hmm. Not sure what to do, I started to put the blue circle into the shape shorter myself. Again, not what he wanted. He made this clear by starting to cry.
Mama: "I'm sorry, Anson, I don't know what you want me to do!"
At this point, I realized that there was a particular game that Anson wanted to play. Most likely a game that he was playing with Pops, as neither Joe nor I knew the rules.
Anson continued to fuss, Mama continued to be sorry.
Finally, Anson pulled out the thing that, more often than not, gets him what he wants. "Peeese?" he asked quite pathetically.
Oh, Punkin'...
Anson: "Da! Da!"
Mama: "Yes, that's a blue circle."
Apparently, Anson was well aware that he was holding onto a blue circle, and Mama was being rather dumb. He gave me a LOOK. He continued to get more excited, and I thought he wanted me to play with the shape sorter. I assisted (forced) his hand into putting the circle into the appropriate cut-out in the box. Was THAT a mistake! Anson very grumpily pulled the circle out of the shape sorter, and I could almost see him grumbling to himself about his stupid Mama. He physically opened the fingers of my hand, and thrust the blue circle into my palm.
Anson: "Da! Da!"
Hmm. Not sure what to do, I started to put the blue circle into the shape shorter myself. Again, not what he wanted. He made this clear by starting to cry.
Mama: "I'm sorry, Anson, I don't know what you want me to do!"
At this point, I realized that there was a particular game that Anson wanted to play. Most likely a game that he was playing with Pops, as neither Joe nor I knew the rules.
Anson continued to fuss, Mama continued to be sorry.
Finally, Anson pulled out the thing that, more often than not, gets him what he wants. "Peeese?" he asked quite pathetically.
Oh, Punkin'...
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
A Recent Argument with Anson
Time of Day: Breakfast
Scene: Kitchen Table
Mama: Anson, do you want some juice?
Anson: Juice! Da juice!
Mama: Ok, I'll get you some juice.
Pours a mixture of juice and water into the sippy cup.
Anson: Juice! A-pple juice!
Mama: No, its orange juice.
Anson: A-pple juice!
Mama: O-range juice.
Anson: A-pple juice! A-pple juice!
Mama: No apple juice. Orange juice.
Anson: Cries loudly
Mama: Anson, look, juice! We have juice!
Hands Anson the sippy cup
Anson: Grins. Da juice! Vigorously drinks. A-pple juice!
Mama: Sighs
I wonder what's going to happen when we start drinking the carrot juice I just bought?
Scene: Kitchen Table
Mama: Anson, do you want some juice?
Anson: Juice! Da juice!
Mama: Ok, I'll get you some juice.
Pours a mixture of juice and water into the sippy cup.
Anson: Juice! A-pple juice!
Mama: No, its orange juice.
Anson: A-pple juice!
Mama: O-range juice.
Anson: A-pple juice! A-pple juice!
Mama: No apple juice. Orange juice.
Anson: Cries loudly
Mama: Anson, look, juice! We have juice!
Hands Anson the sippy cup
Anson: Grins. Da juice! Vigorously drinks. A-pple juice!
Mama: Sighs
I wonder what's going to happen when we start drinking the carrot juice I just bought?
Thursday, March 5, 2009
My Heroes
I just had a major failure of technologies, in a most unpleasant way. And WOW, was I cold!
I went for a training ride to go up and down Ohio Hill a couple of times. The thermometer said "35" which in comparison to our recent temperatures, should have been like a warm spring day. It wasn't. The thermometer doesn't take a little something like freezing-blustering-windgusts-that-chill-you-to-the-very-core-of-your-being. I want to keep this blog PG rated, but I have to say: SHIT, was I cold. I refused to modify my route or give up completely because I (incorrectly) thought that the heat my body generated struggling up Ohio would be enough to keep me warm. Did I mention that this was an incorrect presumption? Anyway.
I did finally make it home without losing any fingers, toes, or the tip of my nose along the way. I entered the house, got a whiff of the chili cooking in the crockpot, and decided that it is IMPERATIVE that I run to the store to buy beans for the chili. I could ride the 3/4 mile to the store, by bike or uni, but did I mention how COLD I was? So, I drove.
I bought my beans, still freezing even with my super-amazing down jacket because my core temp was taking too long to recover. Did I mention that I decided not to wear a hat? I foolishly thought that it would be excessive during this trip... further evidence that being super cold does freeze your brain.
When I got out to my car, I threw the can of beans on the seat, put my key in the ignition... and couldn't turn it! It felt like I had the wrong key, or the right key in the wrong car. I actually looked around to make sure that I was in my car. Nope, it was mine. Sigh. I struggled with the key, trying in vain to get it to turn. I got out of the car. I got back in the car. I locked it. I unlocked it. I wiggled the steering wheel, put the car in/out of gear, played with the emergency brake, turned off all controls... nothing. So, I do what any married damsel-in-distress would do. I decided to call my husband.
But, oops, the cell didn't work! All calls failed. To everyone I tried to call. Great. In desperation, I texted Joe and asked him to call me. A couple minutes later I received a text ( :) ) saying that my phone was going straight to voicemail ( :( ). Feeling great empathy for those pioneer woman who needed to communicate with their husbands via telegraph to get the buggy out of the ditch, Joe and I texted back and forth to figure out a way to get my car started. I tried everything, including fiercely moving the steering wheel left then right, without success. Joe, bless his heart, packed up Anson, and they drove the store to help me out.
Did I mention that I was FREEZING? Without hat? I was actually shaking by the time they arrived. Why didn't I go into the store to get warm? Good question (insert 'hindsight 20/20 quote here'). I also had the painful realization that not only would biking to the store have been ultimately quicker, I would have also been much warmer!
Joe and Anson arrived, and parked behind my car. Joe exited his car, I exited mine, Joe entered my car, yanked the steering wheel in the exact manner I did and got the key to turn. Sigh. He has some karma about him that makes these complicated pieces of technology behave.
Before Joe allows me back into my car, he told me that I needed to hear what Anson had to say to me. I was expecting an "aye aye aye" or some other disparaging remark that Anson is so good at. Instead, when Joe opens the rear doors, I hear, "Vvvv Mama!"
"That's right," Joe replied. "You saved Mama!"
PS This also served as a lesson as to why I should NEVER let Anson play with my phone. That boy is GENIUS at surreptitiously making any gadget stop functioning in the way it was meant to work.
I went for a training ride to go up and down Ohio Hill a couple of times. The thermometer said "35" which in comparison to our recent temperatures, should have been like a warm spring day. It wasn't. The thermometer doesn't take a little something like freezing-blustering-windgusts-that-chill-you-to-the-very-core-of-your-being. I want to keep this blog PG rated, but I have to say: SHIT, was I cold. I refused to modify my route or give up completely because I (incorrectly) thought that the heat my body generated struggling up Ohio would be enough to keep me warm. Did I mention that this was an incorrect presumption? Anyway.
I did finally make it home without losing any fingers, toes, or the tip of my nose along the way. I entered the house, got a whiff of the chili cooking in the crockpot, and decided that it is IMPERATIVE that I run to the store to buy beans for the chili. I could ride the 3/4 mile to the store, by bike or uni, but did I mention how COLD I was? So, I drove.
I bought my beans, still freezing even with my super-amazing down jacket because my core temp was taking too long to recover. Did I mention that I decided not to wear a hat? I foolishly thought that it would be excessive during this trip... further evidence that being super cold does freeze your brain.
When I got out to my car, I threw the can of beans on the seat, put my key in the ignition... and couldn't turn it! It felt like I had the wrong key, or the right key in the wrong car. I actually looked around to make sure that I was in my car. Nope, it was mine. Sigh. I struggled with the key, trying in vain to get it to turn. I got out of the car. I got back in the car. I locked it. I unlocked it. I wiggled the steering wheel, put the car in/out of gear, played with the emergency brake, turned off all controls... nothing. So, I do what any married damsel-in-distress would do. I decided to call my husband.
But, oops, the cell didn't work! All calls failed. To everyone I tried to call. Great. In desperation, I texted Joe and asked him to call me. A couple minutes later I received a text ( :) ) saying that my phone was going straight to voicemail ( :( ). Feeling great empathy for those pioneer woman who needed to communicate with their husbands via telegraph to get the buggy out of the ditch, Joe and I texted back and forth to figure out a way to get my car started. I tried everything, including fiercely moving the steering wheel left then right, without success. Joe, bless his heart, packed up Anson, and they drove the store to help me out.
Did I mention that I was FREEZING? Without hat? I was actually shaking by the time they arrived. Why didn't I go into the store to get warm? Good question (insert 'hindsight 20/20 quote here'). I also had the painful realization that not only would biking to the store have been ultimately quicker, I would have also been much warmer!
Joe and Anson arrived, and parked behind my car. Joe exited his car, I exited mine, Joe entered my car, yanked the steering wheel in the exact manner I did and got the key to turn. Sigh. He has some karma about him that makes these complicated pieces of technology behave.
Before Joe allows me back into my car, he told me that I needed to hear what Anson had to say to me. I was expecting an "aye aye aye" or some other disparaging remark that Anson is so good at. Instead, when Joe opens the rear doors, I hear, "Vvvv Mama!"
"That's right," Joe replied. "You saved Mama!"
PS This also served as a lesson as to why I should NEVER let Anson play with my phone. That boy is GENIUS at surreptitiously making any gadget stop functioning in the way it was meant to work.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
We Have Mondo'ed. And It Was Good.
This past weekend was the Mondo festival. So much excitement! So much exhaustion!
On Friday, Anson must have thought he was in heaven. Balls! Everywhere! Other people throwing them! Hundreds of people throwing them! And the noo-nees, and then the noo-nees playing with balss... he spent most of the evening walking around and just taking it all in. Things were a little too much for him. The visual stimulation was astounding. Cousin K was hangin' with him, so I got a chance to do a little riding. After awhile, I found them watching unicycle hockey, and Anson had his head down on K's shoulder. When I got closer, I found Anson's little face was twisted into an expression of torment, and he had a single tear running down his face. I asked him if he was sad, and he burst into full-out tears. Even Mama had a hard time consoling him! This shocked K, as she thought he was just resting.
On Saturday, even more fun was had, mostly because Anson got to hang with Grandma & Grandpa while Mama played at Mondo. Even without the balls and noo-nees, Anson had a great time. Grandma got him new books to read (the key to the Doo's heart), and he had the undivided attention of two fun people. Back at Mondo, I managed to unicycle my little bottom off, riding my 20" more in one day than I had the last two years combined. I had forgotten how satisfying all the broken nails, bruises in strange places, and overall muscle soreness were. Another highlight was watching co-worker A learn how to juggle! And, thanks again, Grandma, for staying up so late!
Sunday, the Little Doo demanded more Mondo time, and woke four hours before the gym opened. This allowed us to get to the gym bright and early, long before the ball-throwers and noo-nee riders appeared. The open space was thrilling for Anson. He ran and ran and ran, then rode his little scooter, then ran and ran and ran some more. Eventually, jugglers appeared, prompting Anson to create covert operations to steal their balls. 'I'm so cute, they won't notice me digging through their stuff!' However, Mama foiled his plan every time. Anson was also a little bummed we didn't bring his noo-nee, but Mama was afraid some big strong boys would also try to ride it and break it in two. Cousin K was also there to play with, but Anson was quite insistent that Mama played with him all morning. No more riding for me! It was nice to be wanted, though, as he usually could care less who he played with. Anson was completely worn out by the time we left. He made it only two blocks in the car before passing out. I carried him through the frigid air into the house, removed his jacket, changed his diaper, and he didn't even stir.
We all passed out on Sunday night, exhausted by yet another successful Mondo.
On Friday, Anson must have thought he was in heaven. Balls! Everywhere! Other people throwing them! Hundreds of people throwing them! And the noo-nees, and then the noo-nees playing with balss... he spent most of the evening walking around and just taking it all in. Things were a little too much for him. The visual stimulation was astounding. Cousin K was hangin' with him, so I got a chance to do a little riding. After awhile, I found them watching unicycle hockey, and Anson had his head down on K's shoulder. When I got closer, I found Anson's little face was twisted into an expression of torment, and he had a single tear running down his face. I asked him if he was sad, and he burst into full-out tears. Even Mama had a hard time consoling him! This shocked K, as she thought he was just resting.
On Saturday, even more fun was had, mostly because Anson got to hang with Grandma & Grandpa while Mama played at Mondo. Even without the balls and noo-nees, Anson had a great time. Grandma got him new books to read (the key to the Doo's heart), and he had the undivided attention of two fun people. Back at Mondo, I managed to unicycle my little bottom off, riding my 20" more in one day than I had the last two years combined. I had forgotten how satisfying all the broken nails, bruises in strange places, and overall muscle soreness were. Another highlight was watching co-worker A learn how to juggle! And, thanks again, Grandma, for staying up so late!
Sunday, the Little Doo demanded more Mondo time, and woke four hours before the gym opened. This allowed us to get to the gym bright and early, long before the ball-throwers and noo-nee riders appeared. The open space was thrilling for Anson. He ran and ran and ran, then rode his little scooter, then ran and ran and ran some more. Eventually, jugglers appeared, prompting Anson to create covert operations to steal their balls. 'I'm so cute, they won't notice me digging through their stuff!' However, Mama foiled his plan every time. Anson was also a little bummed we didn't bring his noo-nee, but Mama was afraid some big strong boys would also try to ride it and break it in two. Cousin K was also there to play with, but Anson was quite insistent that Mama played with him all morning. No more riding for me! It was nice to be wanted, though, as he usually could care less who he played with. Anson was completely worn out by the time we left. He made it only two blocks in the car before passing out. I carried him through the frigid air into the house, removed his jacket, changed his diaper, and he didn't even stir.
We all passed out on Sunday night, exhausted by yet another successful Mondo.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Anson's Immortal Beloved
My dearest Valentine,
You are suffering, my dearest creature... you are suffering. No longer do you float as freely as you did when we were young. Ah, wherever I am, there you are also. I will arrange it with you and me that I can live with you. What a life!!! thus!!! without pursued by the goodness of mankind hither and thither. Which I as little want to deserve as I deserve it... and when I consider myself in relation to the universe, what am I and what is He - whom we call the greatest - and yet - herein lies the divine in man - I weep... Much as you love me, I love you more. But do not ever conceal yourself from me, you know I forget to look up. Good night. As I am taking the bath (a pity you cannot share this joy with me) I must go to bed. You are so near! so far! You aspire to make our love truly a heavenly structure, and also as firm as the vault of heaven, but as much as I try, I cannot fly away with you away from this earth.
Though still in bed, my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved, now and then joyfully, then sadly, waiting to learn whether or not fate will hear us. Yes, I am resolved to wander so long away from you until I can fly to your arms and say that I am really at home with you, and can send my soul enwrapped in you into the land of spirits. Yes, unhappily it must be so. You will be the more contained since you know my fidelity to you.
My heart is full of so many things to say to you, ah there are moments when I feel that speech amounts to nothing at all! Cheer up, remain my true, my only treasure, my all as I am yours. The gods must send us the rest, what for us must and shall be -
Your faithful Anson
As Anson is still learning the nuances of English, having just started to produce two word sentences, he profusely thanks Mr. Beethoven for assistance in composing this letter to his Valentine.
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