end of spring break

Today is the first day of spring, and I like that Google is celebrating with their Eric Carle design.
This week was Spring Break, and we got to relax for at least some of it.

On Wednesday, P and I went to the city. We hung out at the bar and had yet another mediocre NYC meal (we seem to have a knack for finding these places where the vegetarian options rival those of Applebee’s) before going to see HAIR. I have a soft spot in my heart for that show, because it’s crazy and the music is fun and political and the narrative is loose and it doesn’t make too much sense. Also, I was in a production of HAIR when I was in college and it was so wonderfully different than anything I had done before. In retrospect, it was sort of the beginning of the end of my interest in typical musicals.

The guy who plays one of the leads in the Broadway production was a friend in college. P and I hung out after the show to see him (which was hard--between P and me, I don’t know who hates that after-the-show scene more). But he was so gracious, and funny, and reminded me of a story from college I had forgotten, and well... it was great. Two other guys with whom we did theatre in college were also there, so it was a mini-reunion of sorts. Actually, there is a HUGE college reunion this weekend at U-M that we all are missing, and my having such a good time the other night made me a bit sad about that. But I have to admit to my mixed feelings about it. It’s hard enough having to face every single person from my past on Facebook nowadays. I haven’t been to a high school or college reunion yet, and I'm starting to understand why. It's hard when you feel like you've changed--for the better--in 15 years. Seeing others who see you only as you were then often makes you wonder whether you really have.

Today the three of us went to j’s school for a preliminary consultation about where he will be next year. j’s teacher M has been evaluating him over the past few weeks, and he’s done pretty well. It’s obvious he’s made tons of improvement since September. He’s even near the top of the charts in terms of his ability with numbers and letters. However, his social interaction and ability to focus still need work. I think the consensus at our meeting today was that we’ll be recommending that he stays where he is for next year: for now, at least. He may move to a class with more students, which of course is what I secretly hope for, but I can see the benefit of his being with M for another year with the therapies he’s getting. Clearly he loves her--he often demands that P and I (and anyone in the house... you’ve been warned!) sit for Circle Time when he imitates M singing songs and reading books.

And now, back to work, since the end of Spring Break is unfortunately looming.

st.patrick's day

On Tuesday, P, j, and I went to a local pub that we figured would have some St. Patrick’s Day festivities. P ordered a Guinness that j badly wanted to drink, for some reason. We tried to calm him down with the promise of French fries, only to discover that the only thing they were serving that day was corned beef and cabbage. We ordered a plate in the spirit of the day, which meant that P got the corned beef while j and I ate the cabbage (really nasty--and I like cabbage) and boiled potatoes and carrots. j was not pleased, but he loved all the local people wearing green, and of course the bagpiper. He even danced a bit, stomping and kicking and flopping a bit in a way that looked sort of Irish. At first I thought he was representin’ his ancestors, but then I wondered if most kids just kind of look like they’re training for Riverdance when they first begin to dance.

playground, politics

Yesterday we went to yet another playground we hadn’t been to before, and today we went to the “regular” one (about 10 minutes away from our house). The one yesterday features an old fighter plane in the corner (um...ok) and j had a great time on the whirly-thing-that-makes-me-nauseous. Today he followed another little guy’s lead and actually hung from a bar above him for a few seconds (“I’m strong! I’m strong!”).

I really hope that they build a playground soon in our little village. There are plans in the works, but I think that its creation will depend upon next week’s upcoming mayoral election. I went to my first community event here last week, which was a forum for the candidates for mayor and trustee. The incumbent, who has been in office for two years, has done a pretty incredible job, beautifying the community, making the tap water drinkable, and generally fostering a progressive attitude—all the while lowering taxes. Her challenger, who was mayor for many years before her and now wants his job back, is running on a “financially responsible” campaign, challenging her claim that taxes have gone down. (And so what if they go up a bit in the hopes of improving the village?) It was interesting to attend the forum, in which the incumbent was able to rattle off the numerous improvements she’s made in two years and he was unable to argue coherently against her candidacy. If her challenger wins, I will be quite sad. And we will probably kiss the improvements to our little village—potential playground included—goodbye.

winter / spring

Another nice weekend day. It’s the beginning of Spring Break here, so I’m getting pretty excited about spring. Just like last year, the tulips promise warm days soon to come, when we can get outside and attack the yard that has been too long abandoned.

I’m finally getting around to pulling pictures off my cell phone. These were taken after a snow/rain storm last month. On the mountain I have to take to and from work, the trees were covered in ice. People were pulling over and getting out of their cars to take pictures, right in the middle of the road. I opted to take this on my cell phone while driving slowly. Not too smart to do on the edge of a mountain, I admit, but it was an unbelievable sight.

haircut, climbing

We had a great weekend. Actually, we had a great week even though P was in Chicago. I'm looking forward to P being back (argh--his return flight is delayed!), but I've enjoyed having this one-on-one time with the little guy.

Yesterday j got a haircut. I was amazed by how excited he was about this, considering I have to tackle him daily in order to brush his teeth. I pulled up to the curb next to the local salon where he’s been getting his hair cut for a year now. He knew immediately where he was--“I’m gonna go get hair cut, mama”--and apparently felt the need to get dress for the occasion. Despite the fact that it was 60 degrees out, after we got out of the car, he demanded his hat, gloves, scarf, necklace (a lanyard for a flash drive), and sunglasses. He walked into the salon and stopped, clearly expecting heads to turn, which they did: his stylist (that sounds so funny) K said, “Hey, it’s cookie-man!”

On his previous visits, a cookie has kept him pretty happy while his hair gets cut. This time, however, there was no need for the cookie. Quietly (!), he walked over to the chair and I lifted him up. He said basically nothing the entire time his hair was getting cut, preferring instead to watch himself in the mirror and smile shyly at K. It was as if another child had inhabited j’s body. After the haircut (which included the electric razor that he didn’t even get upset about--he just giggled), K gave him a cookie, which he ate his while playing in her kiddie Beauty Salon play area. J loved using the hair dryer and comb on the head of hair that was sitting there... which must have been a head of hair for stylists to use for practice. It was clearly real hair, since the consistency was right and there were a few gray hair mixed in.

The only time j got upset was 20 minutes later when I had to pick him up to carry him out. He wasn’t excited about heading to the playground afterwards; he just wanted to stay in the hair salon. Of course, he loved the playground once we got there.

We went to a bigger playground today, and it was great. He has very little fear of climbing ladders and sliding down. Also, I don’t have to worry about him grabbing other kids anymore, and I can’t even tell you what a relief that is. I followed him pretty closely the whole time, though. Since it was a beautiful day, there were many families there. But no grabbing. It was actually fun to watch j around other kids. He has a hard time connecting with them meaningfully, but he loves to get excited and happy when others are having a good time.

“Look, mama, he’s screaming! Wow!”
"She's bouncing, yay!"
(to a younger boy with a runny nose) "Do you have a booger?"

The only strange moment was when he growled the word “Gorgeous” repeatedly down one of the covered slides: “Gorgeous... gorgeous... ggggorgeous!” This cracked up some other parents, too.

snow day

All three of us have today off as a snow day. It's a mess out there right now. A glorious, school-canceling mess. I am grateful for it, because I needed another weekend day. P and I were gone the whole weekend helping my brother and sister-in-law move into their new (to them) house. They have been doing work on this house for months, because it really needed not just cosmetic work, but other important things, like heat. It's been hard for them, I know, but it will be worth it. The layout of the house reminds me a lot of ours (small-ish raised ranch). However, instead of being in a valley with a mountain view, their house is sort of the opposite--it's on a hill and in the distance, over other houses, you can see the ocean. It's crazy and amazing and I know they are just going to love it there once they finish with the rest of the renovations.

In anticipation of the snow day, j helped me bake cookies last night and today. This meant we got to finally use the *sweet* chef's jacket that he got from Uncle D and Aunt J. It came in handy with all the flour, sugar, and molasses that got on it. I have more pictures and will send them along in the usual ways shortly.

in which j refuses my label

Last week j was playing around with the undershirt he was wearing. He decided to remove one of his arms from the arm-hole and stick it through the neck-hole, which gave his outfit a sort of toga-like-feel.

So I asked him, "Are you a toga-man?"

He was patient, but by the look on his face it was obvious that I clearly wasn't getting it.

"No, Mama. I'm not a toga-man. I'm a very special dancer."

Where he got this, I have no idea. School probably? And exactly what kind of "special dancer" he is, I'm not sure. But it was pretty darn funny.