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Party Time (and things that make you blink)
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May. 15th, 2008 @ 08:41 pm
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The apartment building I'm in, and the one that faces it, are both full of families with kids ranging from 4 weeks to 13 years. When it gets warm out, and stays light late, they have a running evening game of multiethnic (Chinese, but also Thai, Egyptian, Korean, and Ethiopian) tag with benevolent parent supervision.
The little kids figured out pretty quickly that I like to play tag too. So now I got invited to one of the driveway-wide birthday parties, featuring yummy Chinese food, all the families on the block, and a giant interfamily toddler-driven waterfight to cool everyone down.
(Joseph, three, irritates everyone with his battery-operated quarter-size supersoaker. He eventually gets soaked with a water balloon in return. It's too much; he runs for Daddy. Daddy calms him down, reloads his water gun, and sends him in search of his aquatic assailant to return fire. You could see the "don't get mad, get even" lesson soaking in. Ahem.)
(Alex, also three, has a tiny water balloon. It doesn't quite have enough water in it to burst when she throws it on the pavement. One throw... two throws.... it survives until she throws it on the ground next to her mother, and it bursts, splashing her Mom. I look at her mom and shake my head, grinning conspiratorially. "One Mother's Day per year is not enough!"
She nods wearily.)
Meanwhile, Alex's dad has zeroed in on Weston, the seven-month-old Chinese baby. I played with Weston before, and got him to grab my finger (not a big deal; it's a reflex) and look at me. He picks up Weston, and within ninety seconds he's having a delighted and mutual conversation with a laughing, fully engaged baby.
How did he DO that? I watch, fascinated, as the conversation continues and neither one gets tired of it. Finally the dad looks at me and explains: "He likes it when I make the "sshhhhh" noise and when I open my eyes wide."
Dang. Now THAT is careful observation. He puts my clinically trained eyeballs to shame. And, now that I know what to look for, the dad is making the same face and the same noise repeatedly, and Weston just soaks it in. Dang. |
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Coffee Break Spanish..... rules the airwaves
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May. 12th, 2008 @ 01:54 pm
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Someone pointed me to Coffee Break Spanish podcasts. Just so you know, they rule.... even though so far they concentrate on general stuff, not physical-therapy-specific stuff.
Current Combat Spanish acquisitions, gleaned from the amused mostly-Spanish-Speaking patient:
Huesos-- joints
Camello-- Camel (for the cat-camel stretch, of course)
Padrastro-- Stepdad (so I can tell what-I-did-for-Mother's-Day stories)
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Mother's Day
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May. 12th, 2008 @ 07:12 am
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For Mother's Day, since hey, I now live in the same state as Mom, I arranged with Stepdad to visit her as a surprise. It's a long drive (six hours), so I sneakily arranged with him to arrive on Saturday night, spend the night, go out for breakfast Sunday morning, raid the storage locker, and drive home. Mom had, Stepdad assured me, no clue I was coming. He made reservations for brunch and warned the front gate of the complex I was coming.
I will now tell stories on Stepdad, who is a man of great accomplishment. He can command troops, run bureacracies, fly airplanes, deliver important speeches in a foreign language fluently, and face down cameras and reporters. (Get the picture? I listen to Stepdad. Someday I might learn something.)
Also, it's a sure bet that Mom will read this to him aloud, chortling occasionally.
In any case, I left Sunnyvale at 2:30 PM and rolled up to the complex front gate at 8:45, approximately as scheduled. The gate guard looked at me suspiciously when I said, "Don't tell them I'm coming-- it's a surprise!"
Uh oh. I tried again: "I'm ______, ________'s daughter. My stepdad knows I'm coming; he should have called you to warn you. It's a surprise for Mom."
That was better. "Oh! I LOVE your Mom! She's such a sweet lady."
Within minutes I had a parking pass and a map. Five minutes after that, I pulled in the driveway and there was Stepdad, lurking outside with a flashlight. (Timing!) "Hello! Come on in. Your Mom has not a clue that you are coming," he said.
Walk in the door and... "Hi Mom, Surprise! Happy Mother's Day!" Result: She looks... pleased to see me, but not stunned. In fact, Mom gives me a So-That's-What-Was-Up look. Huh?
Apparently Stepdad-of-great-ability had uncharacteristically decided to mow the lawn at 8:30 PM on Saturday night, making her wonder what he was up to. After doing so, he'd called the front gate, gleaning in whispers the information that I'd just been through there. (He was quiet, but apparently, sound travels well in their house.) After that, Mom knew something was up, but just didn't know.... what.
So... note to self... if you need an organization led, ask Stepdad. If you need to arrange a family surprise, though, bet on Mom.
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First customer
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May. 8th, 2008 @ 06:04 pm
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Over the weekend, I bought a bird feeder. (I've really missed having one; the last place I was able to hang a birdfeeder was the Michigan Avenue house... in 2003.)
So, okay. I flounced off to the Wild Birds Unlimited store, bought a squirrelproof birdfeeder with a stand and seed and etc., and triumphantly set it up.... on my square-o-cement-with-fence patio, next to the planter with no plants in it.
As you might expect.... exactly no birds appeared at the feeder. Zero. No customers. No love.
Dang it!
Until this morning, that is, when I stumbled downstairs for coffee and surprised a brown flash, flitting away from the feeder at speed. There was one this morning, and a small but steady stream of them this evening... only momentarily deterred by the three-year-old asian toddler who lives next door, who came to investigate armed with a long-range squirt gun and a piercing shriek. ;-) |
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