#HatofSummer Update--Only a few days left

There are only a few days left to vote for this year's #OfficialHat2016 campaign.

Thanks to Hannah for helping make today's video. Welcome to summer.

Now . . . back to work.

Watching Star Wars: The Abrams Influence

Over the weekend, we decided to introduce Hannah to the Star Wars movie franchise. (Well, to be honest, I wanted to watch the movies again, as prep for this December's newest episode VII installment. And so we decided that it was time to introduce Hannah to the Star Wars franchise.)

But . . . how should we do it?

This is a very relevant question for now and for the future. Obviously, when I was a kid, there was only one option--Star Wars, The Empire Strikes Back, and then Return of the Jedi. They came out in the theaters and then we were introduced to the idea of rewatchability via VCRs/DVDs. But there was no question about in what order the story should be experienced.

My Original Experience

But now? Well, my first  two children were born and introduced to the franchise when the Prequel movies (Episode I: The Phantom Menace, Episode II: The Clone Wars, Episode III: The Revenge of the Sith) were being introduced and at the height of their influence. So . . . for better (and probably for worse--as you will see later), I chose to show the six movies in chronological order to Sarah and Grace, from Episode I to Episode VI: the Prequels and then the Originals.

Sarah and Grace's Experience

But . . . well, we all know that the prequels weren't the BEST additions to the Star Wars franchise that we all hoped for. The Jake Lloyd Anakin Baby. The revelation of midichlorians. The horrible stilted dialogue between Padme and Anakin at the Lakes of Naboo. Jar Jar Effing Binks. The struggles of watching Hayden Christiansen try desperately to emote and simply landing on confused. The High Ground.

Yeah . . . it was suboptimal. But . . . for better and for worse, it is part of the official Star Wars canon. and so, we're back to the original question that we faced for Hannah. How should she watch the movies? What is the best way for her to get the complete story, but not hand such weight on the weakness of Episodes I-III so early on. I mean, if individuals got TOO disenchanted with the ham-handedness of the Prequels, they might never persevere enough to get to the more decent movies beyond.

And then . . . I figured out the way that I think works best for me. And, as fate would have it, it is heavily influenced by the director of the newest movie: Star Wars: The Force Awakens (coming to dominate the world this December).

I, as you may know by now, am a big fan of J.J. Abrams work. I loved the TV show Alias. I adored the TV show LOST. I liked almost all of the TV show Fringe. I've watched his Star Trek reboot movies with much satisfaction. I enjoyed his other movies--Super 8, Cloverfield,and even some of the efforts he has made in Tom Cruise's Mission: Impossible franchise.

And, if there is one thing that I know about Abrams is his strong love of the flashback. He utilizes the technique in lots of his creative storytelling. And so, why not give a strong homage to Abrams when trying to sequence the most optimal way to tell the Star Wars story?

So, I propose that we work the Prequel Episodes I-III as flashbacks within The Empire Strikes back.

The Abrams Influence Method

Think of it. We are introduced to Luke Skywalker, a young nobody raised as an orphan on the planet Tatooine. We see him learn some of the truth about who his father was: a talented space pilot and even . . . a Jedi--a master of the old religious order that once maintained peace in the galaxy. Luke begins to learn something of the Jedi ways from old Ben (nee Obi-Wan) Kenobi. But then Kenobi is cut down by Darth Vader during the Rebel Alliance's efforts to destroy the Death Star super weapon. We cheer as Luke and the Rebels triumph in destroying the Death Star and then buckle in to follow our heroes on their journey to fight the Empire.

In Episode V, we see the strengthened Rebel Alliance continue their efforts to destroy the Empire. Luke fully commits to his Jedi training with Master Yoda . . . but something goes wrong in the swamps of Dagobah. Luke sees strange visions connecting him to Darth Vader. What does it mean? When he rushes to Bespin the save his friends, he confronts Vader face-to-face . .. and Vader drops the bombshell. 

Vader is Luke's father?

(What do you think about THAT, Master Skywalker?)

Now . . .

FLASHBACK!

Pull out The Empire Strikes Back at this point and begin telling the sad tale of Anakin Skywalker's downfall. Begin with The Phantom Menace, then run through The Clone Wars, and then Finish with The Revenge of the Sith. See how Anakin's power was corrupted and twisted by his love for Padme and his fear of losing her.

Then . . . pick up Episode V right where Vader tells Luke the truth and stretches out his glove. Watch Luke recoil in horror and give in to his own despair, letting go of the tower and falling into the airshaft. Watch the end of Empire and then move into Return of the Jedi. Now, you can watch as a PTSD Luke Skywalker, last of the Jedi Masters tries his hardest to believe that there is a glimmer of goodness left in the shell of Anakin Skywalker within the armor of Darth Vader. You've seen how Anakin fell and you are left to wonder if Luke is right.

So . . . what do you think?

(Truthfully, I'm probably NOT the first person to think of this. But I'm not bothering to research and find out what others before me have already said. It is what I'm trying with Hannah and we'll see how it works.)

Hannah @ 6

Happy birthday to Hannah Maria Martin! She is six years old today.

As my children get older, I know that I appreciate their maturity and their ability to function in the world as independent people with their own thoughts, goals, and wants. But there is always a part of me that misses the cuter side of childhood. Their inexperience; their curiosity; their unexpected sense of humor and their ways of expressing that. I don't want to minimize the challenges of young children, of which there are many. But this is a celebratory day. So hurray for the wonders of childhood. And Hannah brings much wonder into this world and into our family.

She's getting older too. Every day! And learning so much. And sloooowly taking her first actual steps away from us and toward her own life. But it's great for all of us that she is here, telling her terrible Knock Knock jokes and learning to tease. And trying to keep up with her older sisters in every way.

Hannah's seventh year will mark the end of full childhood shelter. She'll be out of daycare by next Fall and fully into the city. I can't wait to see where she goes next and what she may do.

Doing Chores; Teaching Chores

Everybody has to do chores. It's an inescapable fact of life. If we didn't do chores, the clothes wouldn't get washed, the dishes wouldn't get cleaned, the floors would never be vacuumed, and all that other stuff.

Necessary--but never fun, really.

Unless you have kids. In that case, you can try (and sometimes, depending on the day, the kid, the barometric pressure) to teach your kids how to do a chore and maybe have some fun with it at the same time.

A few weeks ago, I got Hannah to help me wash up after dinner. And it turned the tedium of washing to pots and pans into a fun conversation and some useful parenting opportunities.

I tried this approach tonight with the basket of laundry.

Now, to be fair, I'll point out that I loaded this basket of bed sheets, kitchen towels, and wearable whites this morning before I left the house with Hannah and Grace. I placed the basket in a prominent place, in the transition space between the front hallway and the TV room. By doing this, I guaranteed that both Sarah and Grace would have to pass by it when they got home from school. Secretly, I hoped that either one of them would see it, be so motivated by its presence that they would take up the task and when I got home from work, the folded basket would be waiting to get carried upstairs for bedroom distribution. (I knew that even if the barometric pressure was properly aligned to get the folding done, there was little to no chance that someone would take that extra Gandhi-like step to put it all away.)

When I got home, no one had taken the hint.

*****

 



The fruits of our labors

 

So, after dinner, I got Hannah to work on her folding techniques with me. She jumped right in on the towels and showed some impressive dexterity. (Clearly she'd handled small kitchen towels and washcloths before.) Everything was properly squared off and neat. I handled the large bed sheets while she plowed through the washcloths.

Soon we entered into the clothing part of the basket and things got necessarily more challenging. The irregular shapes flummoxed her at first, but after I showed her the proper way* to get it done, she handled herself well.

Hannah wandered in and out, of course, which is the nature of five-year-olds. But if I prompted her, she'd get back into it and do a few more. The biggest problem I faced was that in order to facilitate her involvement, I was sitting on the floor to get this done. And that is NOT a comfortable position for my 41-year-old legs to be in for any length of time. Let's just say that getting back up again when it was over was . . . challenging.

Hannah was a bit confused with how to handle the socks. But I explained that you just put the sock over in their own growing pile to deal with at the end. Then you match up all the pairs and place the sock bundles on the tops of the divided clothing piles.I had thought that matching socks would be where she shined the brightest, but she had already moved off to another room at that point.

When it was all done, the folded piles were placed back into the basket, awaiting transportation upstairs. And, depending on other factors and levels of laziness, there it might stay for days.

* In case you are wondering, there is absolutely a right and a wrong way to fold clothes. (I am convinced that Lynda doesn't do it properly so that I will grow frustrated with her method, thereby ensuring that I handle the bulk of the laundry chores. (You know, kind of like I don't know how to clean the bathrooms effectively.)

Anyway, the proper method of folding a t-shirt is using the Mirror Symmetry method. You divide the shirt down its vertical axis and match up sleeve to sleeve and the fold the bottom hem of the shirt above or below the neck opening. If you are dealing with a knit shirt (like a polo shirt with a collar), you follow what I call the Gap Method: you fold the sleeves underneath the front of the shirt by tucking/retracting them behind the back panel (like you would tuck turkey wings into themselves). Then you lift up the more horizontally-shaped shirt bundle and crease the bottom half underneath the top. This presents a nice shirt, showing the collar and the button placket, like you are used to seeing at clothing displays.

(In case you are wondering, button-down dress shirts should be folded loosely and set aside, because you want to put them on hangers as quickly as possible to avoid creasing. If you suspect that there will be a substantial delay before the clothes are put away, follow the Gap Method and put these shirts on the top of the finished basket, to avoid the weight of other clothes generating creases and wrinkles. Because no one wants to iron anything.)

Happy 5th Hannah!

Here's a photo from a trip to Hocking Hills that we made when you were very young.

I don't remember much about my early life before the age of approximately five-years-old. So, Hannah, I don't know how much you will remember of the years you have lived before now. (And I'm sorry that I haven't done a very good job of chronicling these years in my blog. But there are history books and digital photos and videos for some of that I guess.)

What I hope you can remember, even in vague ways, is how much you have been loved. And I hope you know how much you have enriched our lives with your presence. Your laughter, your smile, your "anti-jokes," your questions, and even your stubbornness and kid-like confidence has made life much more interesting and more rewarding.

Very soon you will begin to step out and away, beginning that long voyage to be on your own. It starts with kindergarten (next fall!) and ends with a life firmly of your own making. But we will be here for as long as possible, providing you a touchstone and a place to return whenever you need to.

We all love you, today and every day.

Happy fifth birthday to you!

Birthday pictures

Three years and 363 days ago, Hannah entered out lives. And so today we celebrated her with a superhero and princess birthday party at our house. A few of her boy and girl friends came over dressed as princesses or superheroes and played some games, ate some food, and generally had a good time.

Our littlest princess

As usual, Lynda was hyper-prepared for the event. Each attendee would get a custom-made cape (for superhero boys) or cloak (for princessy girls). The kids could make their own emblem to go on the back that was then hot-glued to their cape for play while they were at the party or once they got home.

Hannah's cape.

Lynda has also prepared some other games, such as "Pin the Mask on the Superhero" and "Pin the Crown on the Princess." But not many of the kids were warmed up enough and comfortable enough to play those games. I tried to get the ball rolling, and played a bit. And Sarah gave it a try as well. But it didn't really catch on.

Not to worry though, there were lots of other choices ready to go. We also played a bit of Freeze Dance. We started with some old traditional songs such as "B.I.N.G.O." and "The Farmer in the Dell." But the kids didn't really start dancing until Sarah dialed up "Pokerface" on her iPhone. 

(Kids today . . . )

The cupcakes on our cupcake tree were a nice decorative hit. And they tasted really good.
This was in lieu of a cake and it was a good idea.

There were other games and activities for the kids as well, such as a superhero or princess coloring page. A few of the kids enjoyed this as well, but mostly only for a few minutes. We had to keep throwing new things at them constantly to keep them interested. 

Grace worked throughout to keep the kids directed from one activity to the next. She loved it and was quite good at it. (One of the parents thought that Grace had a future as either a life coach or a television talk show host.)

Sarah, predictably, was the most interested in the coloring station.

In the front room, Grace had set up a maze/obstacle course for the kids to crawl through. It was an initial hit with the boys while the girls were coloring.

Despite all of the careful planning, however, when given freedom to do their own thing, the kids went up to Hannah's room and dragged out all of her toys, destroying the room in about two minutes flat. And when they were done with that . . .

. . . they headed down to the basement and played with things down there. It took a few more minutes to locate and spread all the toys across the floor down there, but soon it was all done. It was a mess, but they were all having a fun time playing with each other like they do at daycare. (And it gave the parents a chance to sit down upstairs and chat.)

Happy Fathers Day

Hannah brought this home from daycare the other day. I thought it would be a nice thing to share on this special day. Happy Fathers Day to my dad and to all of the hard-working Dads out there who make their children's lives special.

*****

Happy Fathers Day 2011!

My Dad's name is Daddy-O.

My Dad's favorite sports team is Basketball.

I like to play hide and seek with my Dad.

My Dad's favorite food is pork chops.

My Dad and I like to read library books together.

If my dad had a superpower it would be Batman.

When my Dad goes to work he listens.

My Dad really likes it when I put my patch on.

I have the greatest Dad because He is.

Love, Hannah.

The Stairs Incident

What I'm about to tell you happened approximately two months ago.

In years past, I would have sat down and blogged about it mere hours after it occurred.

Now . . . it has taken me this long and I had to convince myself to do it at all.

*****
It was a Friday night. We had ordered our customary pizza dinner and were preparing to eat it. Sarah had her neighbor friend over to spend the night. Our neighbor was downstairs just getting started on the basement renovation project that we had hired him to do for us. Lynda was arriving home from work.

I got the pizza on the table, with the plates, drinks, and napkins. Sarah and S. sat down and started eating. I also sat down and had a slice myself, talking to the girls. Grace was about to also sit down and eat but she was playing with our neighbor's daughter, who was hanging out while her dad worked downstairs.

In short . . . there was a lot going on.

Lynda came home and saw that C. was working in the basement. She decided to go down and talk to him about how things were going, what the renovations plans were, discussing a scheduled visit by insulators that he had recommended. She left the door to the basement stairs open.

I was sitting at the kitchen table, in full view of the basement entrance, eating pizza and joking with Sarah and her friend.

And where was Hannah?

. . .

She had been playing on the ice cream truck. That blasted, plastic ice cream truck that the kids have sat on since Sarah was little and pushed themselves around the house with their feet. And with just about every push, they run up against the plastic handle that serves at the "throttle" of the truck, which never fails (though I don't think we've EVER changed the battery in this thing) to unleash its loud, piercing VROOM noise. And don't forget all of the buttons that launch out random songs or weird sayings.

In short, I have a strong aversion to this ice cream truck.

And Hannah was enjoying it to the hilt.

But it's not the ice cream truck's fault, really. (And I think it ended up being helpful in the end, as you may see.)

Hannah rode the truck around, looking for Mommy. And, somehow, over the din of the electronic truck insanity, she discerned that Mom was downstairs in the basement. So, as any good, imprinted daughter will do, she pushed her ice creamy way over to the entrance to the basement, parking herself at the top of the stairs. She called down to Lynda and Lynda didn't hear her, intent as she was with her conversation with C. about the construction and plans and insulation estimates and whatever else. Hannah called again and Lynda may have called back up that "she'd be up in a minute," but that may be completed conjecture on my part, as I wasn't paying the slightest bit of attention. I was goofing around with Sarah and her friend at the table (only three feet away from the open basement door, mind you.)

Then something made me get up and head to the front door, moving me further away from the developing action. All I know is that as I was standing in the hall, I heard the unmistakable sound of plastic truck wheels bouncing down a stair. Then I heard a crashing impact . . . and then the wailing began.

I turned around and got down the basement steps as fast as I could, and Lynda was already there at the stairs feet, seeing Hannah on the ground, screaming in fear and pain. We both picked her up and started to assess whatever damage we could see.

*****

She was spitting blood out of her mouth, but I couldn't see a cut anywhere. Her teeth were all there, so we figured it must be coming from her busted top lip. (It wasn't, exactly, as we'd learn later.). I ran back upstairs to get a wet towel to start cleaning her up and we started strategizing with each other about what to do. We knew we'd need someone to watch the kids at the house while we headed to the Urgent Care or the ER or wherever we were going to go. Luckily, C. was there and we called M. and asked her to come over as well. They readily agreed and we threw on shoes and coats and headed out the door.

Hannah was still crying, but the blood flow was slowing down. We couldn't tell where it has been coming from in her mouth, but I was more concerned with keeping Hannah talking to ensure that she wasn't going into shock or slipping into unconsciousness or something that might mean a bigger problem. Lynda and I determined that we didn't need to go to the ER or the hospital and chose the Urgent Care instead. We figured we'd get seen faster that way, as long as Hannah's condition remained less visibly critical.

But, visible was an issue. We had a wet wash cloth to clean the blood off of her face, but she already had some blood on her shirt. I was worried that people would take one look at us and figure we'd been beating Hannah or something. And I was worried that if we kept telling the nurses and doctor that she'd fallen down the stairs, they might also jump to the wrong conclusions. But we had to tell the truth to ensure proper care. In the end, nothing but the right things happened and I watch too much serialized TV drama.

*****

By the time we got to the Urgent Care, which was only a five minute drive from our house, Hannah was entirely calm again. She looked banged up, with a cut lip and a bloody shirt. But she wasn't crying any more. In fact, once we got in the waiting room with the other sick children, she wanted to wander off and play with the other kids, just like nothing at all had happened fifteen minutes ago.

This introduced another worry, to accompany the one I had about people misinterpreting why we were there. Now I was worried that Hannah might get blood on someone else and what might happen if that occurred? Looking back on it, I don't really know where this blood was going to come from, as there wasn't any more blood flow occurring at this point, and the stuff on her shirt was dry. But these were the things I was thinking.

Eventually we got back and Hannah's vitals were taken and she seemed very fine. And when the doctor gave her a look, she told us that the blood had been the result of a tear of that bit of skin that holds your top lip to your gums.*

*****

And then, it was over. And we were home. And Hannah was better. And now it seems like it never happened.

But she still rides that infernal ice cream truck. And she sometimes remembers riding it down the stairs. But I believe that the truck actually saved her accident from being much worse. In my mind's eye, I see that she successfully rode the truck in proper position for the top third of the staircase. Perhaps she even thought she could pull it off in that brief split second? But then something bumped and she started to flip, with the front of the truck (and her) going down and the back end of the truck flipping up into the air, creating  a somersault. So . . . perhaps in the second third of the stairs she was actually airborne and not in contact with the stairs or the truck at all? And as she flipped, maybe the truck shielded her from the stairs in that bottom third as she crashed to rest on the carpet below? Who knows, really . . . but that is the way I need to imagine it.

Maybe I need to tolerate that stupid truck a little bit longer . . .

* (Apparently, this type of lip connection is generally called a "frenulum." If you want to know more search the word, but be careful with what search data comes up. Remember that we're dealing with an anatomical category of "lips" which don't ONLY exist on the face. Say no more, say no more.)

Hannah

She's very "demanding" these days. When she isn't happy with what you have decided to do (a not infrequent occurrance, let me assure you), she immediately responds with a boisterous NO! and a quick whine.

Some days it seems that I get 7 or 8 of those reactions each morning.

But, she loves to go on walks--more than I can say for the older two. Sure, they may be meandering walks that don't get you very far. But you'll learn the location of every barking dog and are guaranteed to stop to get a better look at any ant that crosses the sidewalk. (And she'll even step on them. Where does that dominance over ants thing cms from?) But she also tries to converse with the ants. Usually by saying HEY ANT!


-- Posted From My iPhone (so, I apologize in advance for any typos I missed)

Hannah's 2nd birthday

Hannah turns two years old today, as I've mentioned a few times already on Twitter and Facebook. She's having the most digital birthday of any of our previous kids. I've spent some time over the last few days wondering what I might write on her birthday post and I really couldn't come up with anything that didn't already sound like stuff that I had written for the other girls in other years. But then I realized that we would take some videos and some pictures that would (hopefully) let some of it stand on its own. Add up the photos and videos and you get a few thousands of words that are probably more interesting than than whatever I could say. But the only words that matter are these four:

Hannah, I love you.

*****

Lynda got her all dressed up for some nice pictures. (She got breakfast jelly and cake frosting on her pants from earlier in the day. Not suitable for pictures as I'm sure you will agree.)

Here is a video of her getting ready to eat her cake.

And here is a video of her opening one of her presents.

*****

You may know that Hannah is several years younger than her sisters. And the reason for that is because of me. I will admit that I had to be convinced to have a third child, as I thought that two kids was more than enough responsibility and work. But Lynda was patient and kept talking to me about it and made me realize that adding another person, another distinct personality, to our family would enrich our lives and make our family into something that it was not.

She, of course, was right. Hannah has been a wonderful blessing and a great enrichment to our family--which was, I admit, already pretty spectacular. I must also admit that she is at her most fun, engaging, and cute at the age of two. She still throws tantrums at times (and will continue to through the Terrible Twos and well into the Thunderous Threes . . . or whatever we choose to call it), but she is speaking so well and is full of excitement and thrills right now.

Congratulations little Hannah on becoming two years old. You are, and will always be, my favorite Banana.

Hannah sings the ABCs . . . sort of.

I might apologize for relying on a video for today's post. I might take it to heart that I haven't done much thoughtful blogging lately and I might decide to take some time tonight when the kids are watching a movie to reflect on the past week, consider what is good and what needs improving in my life, try to formulate cogent opinions on the important topics of the day.

I might do these things.

But it is a Friday night and I've had a busy, illness-filled week of late nights, crying babies, fevers, single parenting and what not.

(And, really, it's the what not that wears you out the most.)

So, yeah . . . tonight it's only a video.

(But it's a cute one, right?)

Hannah and the Roar Socks

My kids have a strange history with their hosiery.

When Sarah was a child, she always chose two socks of different colors and intentionally wore them that way.

Grace must have the most sensitive feet in the world, because she often complained that the seam at the toe of the sock was irritating her.

And now Hannah insists on wearing socks on her hands (like opera gloves!) to make puppet-like movements and "roar"ing sounds.

The "roar" bit is a leftover legacy from when Grace was a baby. We have a book about a kid who writes to the zoo and asks for a pet. The zoo sends a series of animals (snake, monkey, camel, giraffe, etc.) who fail to be good pets. On one page, a lion is the zoo's latest attempt to placate the pushy kid . . . and whenever we read that page to Grace we'd mimic the lion's roar, but with a soft kind of "rahr." She eventually got it and started mimicking the sound in an equally soft voice (very un-lionish). We thought it was so cute, we did it again with Hannah.

She also does the roar, but somehow, she's tied this to sock puppets? I don't get it either. But it's cute and it makes for a fun video. (Sorry about the light quality on the video. It was this morning and I didn't bother to turn on the room lights.)

Tuesday at home

Both Hannah and I stayed home today--she with a slight fever that didn't worsen and I with a brief cold. Now we're outside with the other two girls in the backyard enjoying what seems to be shaping up as a pre-storm breeze.

Lynda is off for an extremely rare (work week!) night out with colleagues. And so I'm wimping out and taking the girls out for dinner soon. But I want them to enjoy the yard a bit before we go.

I'd say we should water the garden but a strong storm last night provided a good amount of rain. So much that I worried for our newly planted and vulnerable seeds. The tomato plants are still small enough in height not to be bothered by the wind, but I thought the soil would become overdamp and damage what just went in the ground two days ago. Considering the turmoil in getting it all started, to have it be sabotaged from the start would seem to be just about par for the course. (And yes, more details on THAT story is still coming.)


-- Posted From My iPhone (so, I apologize in advance for any typos I missed)

Hannah plans the afternoon

Home and Lunch and TV

I'm working at home today because my "bespectacled littlest one" was running a fever yesterday--and isn't eating very much today. She'll likely be fine tomorrow morning, but I'm at home gathering data for my new work project that has just started up this week.

So, it's mostly solitary work with a computer screen, a textbook, and a set of state-based educational standards. I've only got a slate of podcasts to keep my company while Hannah naps.

But I've eaten an eclectic lunch of cheese, hummus, bread, grapes, and apples. (I'm hoping lots of semi-healthy nibbling will keep me away from scarfing down cookies or chocolate-chipped granola bars.)

*****

Last night's episode of LOST ("Follow the Leader") was a great episode that captured my attention--even though it was a moving day episode that mostly served to set all the characters and situations in the places they needed to be for next week's two-hour season 5 finale entitled "The Incident." (Fans will know that "the incident" has previously refered to the--until now?--unexplained happening below the Swan Station that resulted in the creation of the computer, the button, the 108 minute countdown, and the constant "saving of the world." Will The Incident occur in this altered time line as it did prior to Locke's moving the island and scrambling the events of the last thirty years?

And does anyone else agree with me that if Faraday's plan to prevent The Incident works--and so no button, no mistake, no 2004 crash of Oceanic 815 . . . does that mean that the final season of LOST will be telling the stories of the passengers minus the entire experience of seasons 1-5?

Maybe . . .

*****

Here's your LOST Untangled video for last night's episode:

Glasses--at last!

The glasses arrived today. However, the story behind their arrival--as well as what we learned from the doctor today . . . demands a full-sized keyboard.

So I'll leave you with this photo and promise of more to come.

Hey, don't make fun of me. They may be thick, but I'll outlast you all!!

-- Posted From My iPhone (so, I apologize in advance for any typos I missed)

*****

UPDATE (8:06 pm): 

So, the glasses.

You all know that Hannah had her surgery several months ago--in early February if my memory serves. After about a month of recovery (approximately middle March) we finally met with Hannah's new eye doctor to get her completely on the road to ocular perfection with her new glasses. We got the bifocal strength finalized and I talked to the glasses purveyor in the eye doctor's office to select frames and get her glasses construction underway.

The glasses doctor told me that it took a while to get little kids frames finalized (especially when bifocals are involved) as they wanted to make sure that the lenses were correct and that the line of the bifocal was located in the right place. I accepted this as just fine and I was told that the glasses should come back from the factory (or where the hell ever) in about two weeks. 

Two weeks came and went.

I let it go as, well . . . things happen. But when several more days went by, I started calling. I was informed that (unbeknownst to me . . . and apparently to the glasses doctor as well) the frames that I selected were on back order, which slowed down their delivery. I wasn't happy, but what could I do about it. I just wanted to get the glasses to us, so that Hannah could start training her brain by actually seeing the world around her clearly.

I called in again after a few more days. Still nothing. Soon, I was calling every day and still the message was the same. Nothing in yet and no knowledge as to why the further delay. And as every day went on, I began to worry more that Hannah's eye's were not getting any better.

At the end of last week, we were beginning to get hints that maybe the frame's order got lost or something, as the delay was beginning to make them wonder also. THAT would have been an extremely unfortunate turn of events . . . but it turned out to be unnecessary. We heard at the end of last week that the frames were expected in early this week, possibly as early as Monday (today).

And so, Lynda called around lunchtime today and found out that, yes indeed, the frames had arrived. 

But . . . there was a new problem.

Turns out there was a mistake in the bifocal lens.

. . .

. . .

!!!

WHAT!!!???!!!

WASN'T THAT THE REASON THINGS TOOK SO LONG IN THE FIRST PLACE? WASN'T THAT THE REASON THAT THEY HAD TO BE CAREFUL, SO THAT THESE SORTS OF THINGS DIDN'T HAPPEN?

WHAT!!??

Yes.

We picked up the glasses anyway; even though we were told that we'd have to come back later when the corrected bifocal lens is redelivered. We NEED to begin training her to get used to having this foreign things on her face, sitting on her nose, hooking around her ears.

(She's not going along well with the plan in the few hours we've had introducing them to her today.)

At best, she keeps them on for about five or ten minutes before she pulls them off. But it is only day one (more like day one-eight). I'm hoping she'll eventually stop "feeling" them and will instead begin to realize that these odd objects are providing her with a clarity of vision that she has previously lacked.

(Probably a pipe dream  . . .)

But, at least we are underway.

Time Travel Madness!

As I mentioned on Saturday, I am currently in Hocking Hills . . . well, ACTUALLY, I am currently writing this on Saturday night, in anticipation of this posting on Monday when I will be in Hocking Hills. So, I am projecting this post into the future.

(Is the future everything we wanted it to be? Have scientists developed transportation yet? Is everyone traveling in pneumatic tubes rather than in gasoline-powered automobiles? Is all food presented and consumed in pill-form? Oh, how I wish I could be a part of this future!)

(Save me some tablet creme brulee, okay?)

But, before all of that happens, you've got to experience this video, taken in the past, loaded in my present, and presented to you, the lucky dwellers of a glorious future!

Stairs and Pools

In the last three days or so, I have seen Hannah commit herself to being an upright walker more determinedly than since she first started taking steps. What I mean by that is, she is choosing to walk rather than crawl. (For example, she chose to walk over here just now to grab at my key pad and make me type $@DDdk49e instead of whatever I was trying to say.)

Additionally, she has become quite adept at climbing up our stairs--and seems to enjoy it really. This is (of course) good and bad. It is good that she is stronger and more mobile. It is bad that she is actively looking to climb higher, raising the possibilities of falling farther.

Let me tell you a story about that . . .

Friday afternoon, I picked up the girls and brought them home after Sarah's elementary school let out. Normal stuff. But I hadn't yet seated the knowledge in my brain that Hannah is a climber now. So, I let her roam a bit while I put bookbags away, checked email, straightened up the house a bit from the morning's rush to get out the door. I realized that I didn't hear her, but that isn't always bad, (Though, admittedly, it usually is . . . and usually signals that she's currently tearing up paper and eating it in some corner somewhere, or pulling out endless tissues from the magic tissue box, or pulling all the diapers out of a pack and littering the floor with them. You get the idea.)

So, I walked around the corner and saw that Sarah and Grace were watching some afternoon TV. But Hannah wasn't there.

And then it dawned on me.

I had not blocked the base of the stairs when I walked in the door--because I had not trained myself yet that this is the first thing I need to do when I walk in the house with Hannah.

I dashed up the stairs (thanking my stars that she wasn't teetering on the edge somewhere) and headed where I figured she'd be. Sure enough, she was half a house away and eight feet up from where I started, in Sarah's room pulling markers out of a plastic bin. She was safe.

But, man! The problems that could have happened! And entirely my mistake. I won't be making THAT one again.

*****

About Hannah's decision to head straight to Sarah's room.

I've seen her do this several times when she is upstairs crawling around with us at bath time. She invariably makes a bee line to Sarah's desk and starts pulling open the bin's plastic drawers that hold Sarah's markers. 

I'm no doctor, but this tells me that Hannah has developed memory and visualization skills enough to mark a place she cannot see and remember a sequence of choices that aren't immediately in front of her. In short, her brain is now developed enough to map her environment and "project" spaces and items outside of her visual field.

Good stuff!

*****

In other news, it's mid March! Do you know where your Bracket is?

I am going to put together my typical Bracket group at work this year--a small group of dedicated friends who like to throw in a few bucks to spice up the fun of the NCAA basketball tournament. To avoid hassles on everyone's part, I'll be utilizing the CBS web-based bracket manager system that I've leaned on in the past. (I toyed with the notion of crafting my own web site this year, but it would be unnecessary work and would demand that participants add yet another user name and password to their already complicated lives.)

So, if you are reading this and want to participate, shoot me an email. I've have the sign-in information ready by Monday afternoon or Tuesday morning. You'll have until noon Thursday to log into the site and make your picks. It doesn't take long to remember your information from past years or to start a new account if you are new to my Pool.

So, give it a whirl if you're interested.

Talk to you again tomorrow.

Hannah walks

I'll assess how accurate yesterday's Oscar picks were in the comments of that particular post.

Today is all about Hannah's mobile milestone.

Click

Back when I was in high school, preparing to head off on my own and enter college, I looked forward to the day when I would own a camera.

I thought that I would take the camera with me everywhere that I went, especially in the car--expecting that I would be able to notice camera-worthy images as I drove and pull the car over to capture the natural art surrounding me.

Naturally, those ideas have never quite come to fruition like I expected it to. My first (and second) cameras were larger, bulkier affairs and i have always struggled against the need to carry lots of stuff with me. (I think this is--more than AT&T or surfing the web or whatnot--what draws me to the iPhone . . . its combo-nature of phone, iPod, and mini-computer in a small package is very irresistible.)

So, I never had my camera sitting in the passenger seat as I traveled the roads of college. Though I sometimes thought of that younger person pledge, I continued to be camera-less.

That was many years before cell phone became widely popular or before I ever considered owning one myself. It was far before the IDEA of camera-equipped cell phones existed at all.

But now I have a cell phone with camera--as rudimentary as it is. And still, I have resisted the possibilities of using it. (Probably because I didn't think it was a very good camera, and why waste it. And also because I didn't yet know how to get images off of my phone and onto my laptop.)

But now I can do these things. And I will try harder to use the basic technology around me to better capture life from my eyes. Because that's the entire point of this WWYG?! enterprise, right. To present life from my own particular P.O.V.?

*****

So, today's picture is an old-school Dairy Queen sign in Worthington. I was traveling back from the ENT appointment that Hannah required after her ear tubes surgery a few weeks back (BEFORE the cataract issue became "clear"). It was one of those appointment's guaranteed to irritate. Meaning that I left work, spent twenty-five minutes picking H. up from daycare and traveling across town to the doctor's complex. I got there right on time and didn't have to wait long in the waiting room. However, once I was escorted back to the exam room, the doctor was in and out in about five minutes total.

About thirty minutes for two minutes of exam and two-and-a-half minutes of chit chat. I mean, why not email me a hi res picture of what successful ear tubes surgery should look like and give me a flashlight? I would expend more energy than the good doctor did and, who knows?, I might even have gotten the diagnosis correct.

So then another twenty minutes back to the daycare? Nope, I'd already committed to taking the rest of the afternoon off, so I had time to kill. So, I took the surface streets rather than the Interstates, hoping to better construct the mental map in my head of the city I live in. (It can be helpful, in case I ever . . . you know . . . break out of the home to work to school to church to home path that I have for myself.)

So, as I was driving around Worthington, I drove past the DQ. I've always liked that sign and so I tried (only somewhat successfully) to capture it. I like the retro design and the much more vibrant colors.