UDP is a fly fisherman. He whistles and clicks at my sister Zizi to get her attention when they are wading the waterways so as not to scare the fish. Apparently he also clicks and whistles at Zizi at other times too. Bug and G have taken to clicking and whistling to get my attention when I am pre-occupied and often when I'm not. It's starting to annoy me. Today I asked Bug, "Why do you click at me? I don't like it." Bug says, "UDP is important. He goes like this to Zizi (insert click and whistle noises) to get her attention when she is ignoring his importance."
Sunday, November 22, 2009
I miss Mr. Rogers. I know I am more the person I want to be because I watched Mr. Rogers growing up. Today, G was sick with the start of the 3-day tummy virus that Bug had earlier this week. All mid-move. We've already watched the BBC i/player dinosaur shows more times than I can count on all my digits and this in-and-of itself is somewhat vomit inducing. So, to perform a differential diagnosis, I found our Mr. Rogers on dvd to see if I was catching the virus or if it was just too many dinosaurs for this mama. We sat and watched as G fell asleep on my lap. Thankfully I was just sick of dinosaurs. But the time reminded me of all the sitting I did right after the kids were born. Everything gets numb, but I didn't mind because there was a brand new person snoozing on my lap.
Mr. Rogers had Wynton Marsalis on as a guest. What I liked best wasn't that there was this amazing musician on television talking with this amazing man and I got to watch. What I liked was how these two lovely people celebrated the ordinary. Mr. Marsalis showed how it was to play the trumpet with different emotions we all feel. Mr. Rogers talked about the daily practice it takes to be a good musician and a good person. Handy Man came to join the band and played. Handy Man wasn't the greatest, but offered something Mr. Marsalis respected -bringing one's whole and ordinary self to the party is all that's needed.
Friday, November 20, 2009
My heart cracks with joyness every day. Joyness is my personal word for that mix of joy and sadness. You've heard it from me before, joy that the kids are growing up and sadness that it goes so quickly. We've moved due to the hubristic financial errors of our previous landlords and I never got a video of G sliding down those stairs. (Que rhythmic thumping sound, then see a bright-eyed girl traversing the long stairs on her bottom as if from no-where.) I know it won't last long and I know it really shouldn't last long. It seems almost too fast to capture, but I need to try and bottle these times as they make for great pick-me-ups when the sadness gets just a wee too big. Write a silly blog seems to be my answer. Anyhow, speaking of personal words, G has a phrase that means, "Let's play chase and tickle." It is "catchoomee." Which means "Catch you, me!" Which means, "Play catch-you with me!" Which means, "If you don't play catch with me, I will reign the morning with screeching terror." She is not yet a benevolent ruler, though she loves the hat/crown wearing aspect of it all.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
I often laugh that I call my children "Team Crazy" or "Team Bonkers," but really, I know that they aren't. For example, this weekend we were at Mugdock Park. Castles, vast expanses of Scottish landscape, people who hire people to hire people to ride their horses... One of these people parked in a dis-abled parking spot and hopped out of her road beast. She saw me do a double take, and tried to calm my apparently worried expression by opening the back hatch of her sparkling off-road-abled vehicle, getting her dogs out, and saying brightly, "Oh, one of my pointers has hurt the pad of her foot!" So, I've concluded that my children need a better team name, like "Team Energetic" or "Team Super Happy Except When Mercurial Core Values Are Maybe Threatened" or maybe just "Team Love."