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Right After This He Was Told Sternly to Keep Two Hands on the Wheel

By Al, who shot this video. I password-protected the clip it to keep the average ninny from viewing it on Vimeo; if you see a password field next to the lock icon below, enter the name of this blog into it. If you see a light blue/white play button, just click that. And if you see the video itself... well, you know what to do.

Books for Beaners

It seems like we've been on a book-buying binge for a year or more—and that doesn't even include the books we've been getting at the library. I *love* being surrounded by books, and we seem to be doing our best to bury the Beaner in them, too. One of my favorite things to do is share the books we love by giving copies as gifts to other children, but I can only spread the love so far. That's why I thought I'd share some of our favorites here, too, with two goals in mind: to let anyone reading this in on some great books, and also to elicit your favorites in the comments. This entry is obviously about children's books; I'll say a few words about the grown-up books I've been reading (one of the delights of this holiday season has been TIME TO READ) in another entry.

Bob and Louie

Lori's I Hab A Code entry from last week (which I just read a few minutes ago; I'm so far behind on my RSS feed reading that I'm considering clicking the Mark All as Read button and starting fresh) reminded me of this exchange, which happened, now that I think of it, on the same day Lori wrote her entry.

For some reason, I often refer to myself in the third person when talking to the Beaner, as in, "Mom's going to do this; why don't you do that." I forget what we were talking about on the evening of the 27th, but we were preparing for our trip to Pittsburgh the next morning, and I announced, "Mom's going to get in the shower now."

Beaner: "Who's Bob?"

Me: "What?"

Beaner: "You just said, 'Bob's going to get in the shower.'"

Me: "Oh, right. I was trying to say 'Mom' [of course it came out as 'Bob' again], but it sounds like I'm saying 'Bob' because I have a cold and my nose is stuffed up [I hab a code ab by node is stupped up]."

Beaner: "Why don't you just say 'Lowie' instead?"

Me: "You want me to call myself Louie instead of Bob?"

Beaner: "No, no—LOW-RI! Your name!"

Sorry, kiddo, can't do it. I can talk about "Mom" in the third person, probably because to me she's another person, separate from "me"/"I"/"Lori". But "Lori's going to take a shower now?" No. "Louie's going to take a shower now?" Maybe.

Books I've Been Reading, Part I: Dreaming in Code

I started reading Dreaming in Code before Thanksgiving, and to be honest, I haven't finished it yet. I originally checked it out from the library, but a few chapters in I began to regret that I didn't have my own copy. I was dying to scribble in the margins. When the desire to scribble became unbearable, over Thanksgiving weekend, I finally hit on the idea of putting my scribblings on Post-It notes and pasting them to the pages. I knew I'd never be able to finish by the time the book was due at the library, and when I bought my own copy, I could just transfer the notes over. (I was thinking I'd actually copy the notes onto the pages of the book, but moving them as-is proved just as satisfying, and simpler.)

So, why did I want to scribble? A couple reasons. One, I was fascinated by the history of software development as outlined in this book. I've worked on a software development team for 10 years, but since I came from a web, writing, and self-taught programming background rather than a formal computer science arena, the only way I know to develop software is The Dreamweaver Way... and I don't even know what that way would be called in general software development terms. (I realized this when I was in a meeting a few months ago and a couple of my colleagues started talking about Waterfall vs. Iterative/Agile methods; I'd heard of these terms, obviously, but I couldn't have explained the differences or benefits of the different approaches.) So learning about things like The Mythical Man-Month and how modern approaches to software development came to be was totally fascinating. I can see now WHY we do things the way we do on our team, and make some guesses about why our process works for us.

The other reason I wanted to scribble is that I'm familiar with the project that the book is about. Al was one of the original hires at the Open Source Applications Foundation (OSAF), and if I'm not mistaken, he was also the first to leave. (He's mentioned briefly—and identified somewhat incorrectly—in the book, but since he opted not to talk to the author while the book was being written, his role on the project isn't discussed in depth, and his departure isn't mentioned at all.) I knew virtually nothing about the project's fate after he left aside from the early public announcements about Chandler, so it was interesting to get the inside scoop on how slow and laborious the development process was. I obviously still don't know how it ends, but from what I've read so far, it doesn't look good: I have lots of Post-Its stuck to my book that say things like "SAME MEETING *AGAIN*!!!"

I don't feel equipped to give much of a review of Dreaming in Code, partly because I haven't finished it yet, and partly because of my personal, if tangential, connection to the story. One thing I will say is that I think a better title for the book would have been Coding a Dream. I also think it's likely that I'll return to this book as a reference—or a bibliography—over time.

T is for Tamago

The Beaner and I played a little game at lunch today. He's forever picking up pasta, straws, crayons, pencils, etc.—anything relatively straight—and making capital Ts out of them. Today when he did it with his flaxseed fusili, he said, "T is for Tamago." I got out some paper and started by saying, "A is for...". He filled in the blanks.

Photo by aJ GAZMEN - GucciBeaRA is for alligator

B is for bird

C is for cat

D is for W (double-u)

E is for egg

F is for flower

G is for gum

H is for house

I is for Ike

J is for Jack

K is for Knuffle Bunny

L is for letter

M is for map

N is for nut

O is for oak ("like an oak leaf")

P is for putt ("like Putt-Putt," and here he was thinking of the old Putt-Putt games from Humongous Entertainment, which are sadly no longer available. he also has a book by this title, though.)

Q is for quack

R is for rawwwr (he roared here)

S is for saxophone

T is for tamago

U is for... (Aura prompted him with "something you might use when it's raining") umbrella

V is for violin

W is for weather

X is for x-ray

Y is for yo-yo

Z is for zebra

The "Oh, Who Cares?" Dilemma

I, like many others, tend to complain when I'm sick but forget to celebrate when I'm healthy. You notice the headache, but not when the headache goes away, as it were. The same is true for my bouts of depression; when I'm low, I know it, and it weighs on me, often dragging me down further. When I'm not, I don't really notice, and I certainly forget to mention it. You can probably guess just from the tenor of my posts (or the lack of posts entirely) how I'm feeling at any given moment.

This is just to say that I've generally been OK for a while now. I pulled myself out of the rut I was in a few months ago... though occasionally I have days when it seems like I've fallen back in, days when I think, "oh, what's the point?" or "oh, who cares?" These thoughts are dangerous, and I'd like to fight them off, but they tend to multiply.

I'm having a day like that today. I wish I could shake it off, go back to bed, read a book, take a nap, do WHATEVER to bring the motivation back, but the paradox is that I feel guilty for feeling this way, and so I stay at my desk, not wanting to work but feeling that I SHOULD, which of course just ramps up the guilt and the feelings of "oh, what's the point?"

Yeah, OK, so that wasn't very coherent. There's a more coherent post coming up, but it's taking a while to write. Stay tuned.

Pittsburgh

Pittsburgh might seem an odd place to visit over the holidays, especially given that we have no family there, but visit Pittsburgh (or Pittspoop, as the Beaner calls it, not because he didn't like it, but because "poop" is the funniest word in the world to him right now) is exactly what we did for the last weekend of our holiday break. Why? Well, several reasons: (1) Al's very good friends Craig & Nico and their three kids were there visiting family for the week, and we wanted to see them; (2) Al was born in Pittsburgh and lived there until the age of 5, and he wanted to show me some of the things he remembered from his childhood; (3) I'd never seen it; and (4) why not?

I think I can say unequivocally that Pittsburgh is not a city I'd dream of moving to, but that's not at all to say that I didn't have a fun time while there. If I could live in the Pittsburgh Children's Museum, I might reconsider. (More on that in a minute.) I'm realizing as I write this that after using the word "unequivocally", this post is going to be all about the buts and althoughs. For example, one of the things that keeps me from wanting to live in Pittsburgh is that it's too cold, although we enjoyed winter temps in the 40s during our stay, and I think it might even have gotten up to 50 on our first day there (of course, it was raining cats and dogs). See what I mean? One overt and one implied "although" in a single sentence!

Two more things that put Pittsburgh in the "I Think Not" category before I move on to the highlights of our stay: (1) Smoking. It was everywhere. So everywhere that I forgot to actually photograph the smokers for my new a dying breed set. Perhaps because they're NOT a dying breed in Pittsburgh? Anyway, I was so taken aback that not only were people allowed to smoke in restaurants, but in many cases there wasn't even a non-smoking section, that I could only gape and cough and feel slightly nauseated (and once, turn around and walk out). (2) In the downtown area where we were staying, at least, everything closed early. There were CVS stores everywhere, but they all closed at 5pm or 6pm (and only the 24-hour store in Oakland had a machine that could make a photo CD in-store). None of the stores, including Macy's and Saks Fifth Avenue, opened until 12pm on Sunday. One of the things I love about living smack in the middle of a city is that you can walk anywhere, anytime, and get what you need or want. That wasn't true in the part of Pittsburgh we were in.

OK, now for the good stuff. The Children's Museum of Pittsburgh puts our Please Touch to SHAME. I honestly don't remember what the Boston Children's Museum was really like from my childhood—I only have vague sensory memories of it being large, and of loving it—but this, THIS is what I think of when I think "children's museum". Our Please Touch membership was due to expire on December 31 anyway, so when I renewed this year I opted for the Super Six package, which gives us reciprocal entry rights to tons of other children's museums around the country. I figure we'll do a Grand Tour of children's museums and compare them all.

The Pittsburgh museum was attractive to us because of its standing Garage Workshop exhibit, which we figured the Beaner would like. Honestly, though, the rest of the museum was so cool that it took us a while to even get him back to the Garage Workshop (though once we did, he didn't want to leave). We spent a wonderful three hours there, and would have stayed longer if we didn't have a date to meet Craig & Nico at Schenley Park.

It felt like I took (and posted to Flickr) a ton of photos from the museum, but I'm realizing that there's so much that I missed. I'd go back to Pittsburgh JUST to go to the Children's Museum (regardless of whether I took any more photos :).

We had gone to Schenley Park on Friday after our arrival to meet up with Craig & Nico, but since it was pouring rain, we didn't go ice skating as planned (or even really get out of the car). An attempt to visit the dinosaur exhibit at the Museum of Natural History also failed due to the weather (and the holiday—it was mobbed, and tickets were sold out), and we had some problems with our GPS, which disagreed with Craig on how to get to Vincent's Pizza. On Saturday our GPS was still as flaky as ever, but the weather was better, and a second attempt at skating outdoors at Schenley Park was successful. I was so happy to skate that I didn't get out my camera while on the ice, though, and the 1/4 lap I did with the Beaner was too strenuous to allow for picture-taking anyway. He insisted that he could skate by himself (I'm sure because Craig & Nico's two older children, who are 6 and almost 4, could), all evidence to the contrary. The muscles in my back and arms were burning by the time we made it that 1/4 lap and back, and my patience was a bit thin. I hadn't really noticed how loud the music was until the Beaner fell down right in front of the speakers and I couldn't hear whatever it was he was trying to tell me (turns out it was "I'M DONE!"). I got a few more laps to myself, however, and then we quit and went to play on the swings.

Enter the name of this blog in the password field below to see the video.

When the Beaner was done swinging and sliding and running around with sticks, we drove over to Al's old neighborhood to look at the house he used to live in. There was a deer munching away at some low bushes in the neighbor's back yard; Al thought it was fake until it moved its head. As we continued down the street to make a U-turn, I said, "now THAT one down there is fake..." just as it, too, turned its head. You can forgive us for our mistakes, given that many yards still had holiday decorations in them, and these guys looked like nothing so much as reindeer (minus the antlers, of course; they were does).

The Beaner fell asleep in the car and missed both the house viewing and the deer, but we didn't mind much because we knew he'd be up later than usual (WAY later, as it turned out) that night. Why? WE HAD AWESOME SEATS AT THE PENGUINS-SABRES GAME, that's why. And when I say "awesome", I mean Row A on the glass, 3 seats over from the penalty box awesome. (Actually, we only had two of these; we had a third seat in equally-awesome section B22, where Al sat for the first period. He said you could see the whole game really well from there, but I forgot to ask him for his ticket when he left with the Beaner before me, so I only saw the game from THE GLASS.) Al joined me in Row A for the second period because there was plenty of room for the Beaner to either sit on our laps or stand in front of us, and he seemed to enjoy both the freedom and the attention of both of his parents. (He said, "I want to go back to the hotel" shortly after the first photo below was taken—i.e., about 3 minutes into the game—but I managed to bribe him into staying with some mini M&Ms brought from home specifically for this purpose, and with tales of the TWO Zambonis that would clear the ice between periods.)

Al and the Beaner took the car back to the hotel (which was like .5 mile away) after the second period, and I was free to try to shoot photos around the linesman for most of the third. Al called with about 9 or 10 minutes to go with the details of the room service menu, and I put in my requests. I left the game with about 3 minutes to go and the Pens up 1-0, made the easy walk back to the hotel, and arrived just ahead of the room service cart. Al, the Beaner, and I had a picnic of fish and scallops and gumbo and fruit, and then at 11pm (!) we finally told the Beaner it was time to go to bed. What a day!

On Sunday we slept in (thank you, black-out curtains) and then drove over to the Strip District to check out the Italian shops and a fish market that Al thought he remembered from his childhood (which turned out to be Wholey's). We got some biscotti and a scone from Enrico's, a "junior" fish sandwich from Wholey's to share (since we were meeting Craig & Nico for lunch at a fish place in about 90 minutes anyway, we saved the baked goods for later and called the fish sandwich breakfast). Sadly, many of the shops were closed because it was Sunday, but it was still nice to walk around and take some photos.

From the Strip District we drove over to the Southworks (I think that's what it was called), a shopping area that reminded me a bit of some of the box store-outdoor mall amalgamations I've seen in San Jose, CA and Exton, PA, among other places. We were a few minutes early for lunch, so we walked over to what turned out to be a fabulous independent bookstore called Joseph-Beth. We bought one book before lunch and then returned afterwards to pick out a couple more, along with some games. This was my favorite stop after the Children's Museum, firstly because I love being surrounded by books, and the space these books were in was amazing, and secondly because it afforded us some nice moments interacting with the Beaner.

We were rather lazy for the remainder of the day on Sunday, and because the room service food was pretty decent (and fairly inexpensive, too), we had another room service picnic for dinner. I got to spend a lot of time reading, the Beaner and Al played on the floor with his new Block Buddies game (a big hit), and when Al needed a break (and wanted to watch football), the Beaner watched a little Calliou on the DVD player. It was lovely and restful (a good thing, since all of us had colds).

Since we were leaving on Monday afternoon, we packed most of our stuff up on Sunday night before going to bed, and then put the remaining items in our bags on Monday morning. We checked out of the hotel around 11am or so and convinced the GPS that we really did want to go see the Monongahela Incline and not just drive around in circles all day. (My job is to pay attention to the initial route the GPS suggests, and then to keep us basically heading in that direction as the GPS recalculates the route ad nauseum and tries to send us all over Hell's half-acre. Usually after we've made the third or fourth turn at my direction, it gets back on track and follows *us*.)

After a brief but exciting trip up a very steep hill and several minutes spent admiring the amazing view of the city from the observation deck, we took the Incline back down, retrieved our car, and went over to the Strip District again to get another scone for Al and have lunch at the original Primanti Bros. The latter was one of those places that didn't have a non-smoking section; you seated yourself, and you smoked if you wanted to.

I'd actually gotten Al a sandwich at another Primanti Bros. location fairly close to our hotel before the hockey game on Saturday night (that's when I discovered that all the drug stores in the area closed at 5pm or 6pm); when I called to tell him I'd found it and to ask what he wanted, he said, "they have a famous sandwich with french fries and cole slaw on it. I want that." I replied that *all* the sandwiches had french fries and cole slaw on them, so I just got him the first thing on the menu, which at that location was the Deluxe Double Egg and Cheese. It turned out to have no meat, only eggs and cheese (and fries and cole slaw), which isn't quite what Al had in mind.

So after looking at the menu at the Strip District Primanti Bros., he asked the waitress, "what's your most popular sandwich?" Waitress: "The cheese steak." Al: "But it says on the menu 'No. 2 seller'." Waitress: "Number 1 is beer." Al then inquired whether they had any hamburger-like items, the waitress said no, and there was some negotiation over soda water and cheese and a pickle. We got a side of fried eggs for the Beaner because nothing else on the menu was going to work for him (the sandwiches were just too big). The cheese steak actually turned out to be more like a hamburger than a Philly cheese steak, so I think Al got what he wanted. I got the Jumbo Fish and Cheese, which was fine (the fries and cole slaw were the best part), but it was nothing compared to the sublimely fresh fish sandwich at Wholey's.

We finished just in time to get some cash, pick up the last-minute scone and biscotti, and head to the airport, where Al and the Beaner got to pose with one of Al's childhood heros before forgetting the news and going shopping, as we were urged to do on the tram.

All in all, a really nice trip. It was great to spend so much quality time together as a family, to see Craig & Nico and their kids, to do things that the Beaner wanted to do (rather than just dragging him around on our errands, as we often do—though Al realized that most of his childhood memories of Pittsburgh involved being dragged around on *his* parents' errands, especially his memories of the Strip District).

The other thing that I loved about Pittsburgh? It's a really short plane ride away. We were only up at cruising altitude for about 10 mintues before we began our descent (I think the total flying time was about 50 minutes), so the Beaner didn't get bored. In both directions we spent most of the flight going over the safety information card, which the Beaner found fascinating. He's now obsessed with the red circle with a slash through it, "which means NO". He had lots of questions about the life jackets, and why the plane was in the water, and why there was a red circle with a slash through it over a suitcase. I explained about leaving carry-on luggage behind in case of an emergency evacuation, about how you have to brace for an emergency landing, how to inflate one's life vest and use the seat cushion for floatation, and how and when oxygen masks might appear. He was very interested, but didn't seem at all worried about the possibility of a crash landing. He studied the symbols and correctly identified the one for no smoking. He wanted to know why the baby's life jacket had a light on it, and why one method of jumping onto the inflatable slide was OK while the other was not ("you need to slide down quickly so everyone can get off and away from the plane," I said, "and jumping onto the slide propels you down faster." I don't know if that's the reason, but it's what I've always assumed; I figured it'd also prevent you from getting your feet tangled under you.)

We arrived home in time for a quick dinner, a bath, a few games, and an early bedtime, and we had the luxury of one more day off (which we shared with the Beaner's friend M and her family so the Beaner would have someone to play with while the grownups chilled out) before returning to work and school. It was a nice cap to a lovely holiday week, and it made me look forward to our next family trip!

Renumbering

There's nothing quite like adding the last few photos of 2007 to your My Every Day set and discovering an off-by-one error that happened back in September. Yes, I forgot to add a photo for September 20, and all the Day and Photo numbers have been off by one since then. Renumbering, tediously, right now. /sigh/

And yes, there have definitely been times where I wished that I'd just named all the My Every Day photos "My Every Day (1)", "My Every Day (2)", and so on, like Lori did. I can't resist *actual* titles, however, so I stuck with my weird Day|Photo numbering system, and oh, how painful it is. Maybe I should have just started over again on January 1...

Update: Turns out I was off by TWO. I also forgot to add a photo for November 9. Good thing I thought to double-check the numbers at November 16...

Update II: OK, I've totally screwed this up. I had a photo for November 9, and I numbered it (using the off-by-one numbering); I just didn't add it to the set. Meanwhile, I added *two* photos for November 19. Also, I have just officially broken my vow to go down to bed by 9pm.

Note to My Future Self

If someone suggests that you take an online course, especially one in some type of programming language, please remember to stick to your guns and say NO firmly and unequivocally. Whatever happens, DO NOT CAVE. Your happiness and well-being depends on this.

That is all.

Miscommuniqués

Years ago I had an idea to design a line of t-shirts with hilarious mis-communications on the front, and what was really meant in small letters on the back, up by the shoulders. THIS IDEA COPYRIGHT LORI HYLAN, CIRCA 1993 OR 1994. Anyway, what gave me the idea was reading the transcript of a seminar at the World Bank, where I was working at the time. A grad student from Harvard and I, a research assistant, were charged with writing up a synopsis of the discussions.

S. was reading the transcript out loud when he came to a section that said, "in order to match my sprocket." Huuuuhhh...what? After reading all the text around that section and speculating for about 10 minutes, we finally realized what the transcriptionist had mis-heard: it should have read "in order to maximize profits."

I couldn't stop laughing over this, and promptly made a sign for my office door, printed on an air mail envelope, that said MATCH MY SPROCKET! I still shout it randomly to this day when I'm feeling silly, or if I totally mis-hear someone. (Another favorite expression for a similar situation: "earn more sessions by sleeving," which is a quote from Roxanne. Use it next time someone mumbles at you, and you *know* you're hearing them wrong. Save "match my sprocket!" for when you only realize your mistake later.)

But back to my point, which was a line of t-shirts. I was going to call them Miscommuniqués, but the problem was that nothing quite, well, matched my sprocket. Since reading (or typing up) transcriptions wasn't in my normal line of work, I wasn't exposed to many hilarious miscommunications over the next 10 years (aside from the occasional e-mail from a bad speller, from whence came the tagline for this blog: 'regaling the web with tales of whoa'). A recent invention has changed all that, however, and brought about new opportunities for hilarity.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the auto-correct feature on the iPhone.

Now, granted, that example is not the funniest one possible by a long shot, and it might not even be, you know, actually funny. But it got me thinking about reviving my t-shirt idea because of the opportunities for utterly changing the meaning of a text message or e-mail. We've moved beyond fat fingers and bad spelling here, folks. What we've got is the electronic equivalent of Mad Libs. Let's miscommunicate!

Discussing Death

I want to stress up front that what follows is NOT the description of a dream, but rather a real (if surreal) conversation the Beaner and I had at lunch today. I remember thinking in the middle of it that I wished I had a tape recorder, because there was no way I was going to remember EVERYTHING he said and how he said it, and it seemed really important to remember. This is the gist of what I remember now, about 2.5 hours later and after a couple meetings.

It started with us talking about why I was brewing tea in a "birthday" (disposable) cup rather than the Halloween mug that Daddy bought for me. I explained that the birthday cup was the only disposable cup I could find, and I wanted a disposable cup because I alread had a mug upstairs on my desk half-full of tea, and it just needed a refresher. I should have brought the mug downstairs before I left to pick up the Beaner from school so it would be in the kitchen up on my return, but I forgot, so instead I was bringing fresh tea up to the mug. (Stupid, I know.)

The Beaner said, "you couldn't go back up to get your mug, because then you'd be late."

Me: "That's right, and I didn't want to be late to pick you up. I didn't want to make you wait."

The Beaner: "You didn't want to leave me alone."

Me: "Right [hugging him], I didn't want to leave you alone, because I love you."

The Beaner: "If you didn't love me, you'd leave me alone, and then I'd get sick and die."

At this point I was starting to worry about where the conversation was going, and also trying to chase thoughts of abandoned children out of my head.

Me: "Yes, that could happen if I were to leave you alone. I suppose it does happen to some children.... but I won't leave you alone because I love you. Mommy and Daddy love you, and grandma and grandpa love you...[and here I go through the whole list of everybody who I know for a fact loves him dearly and would never leave him alone]."

The Beaner: "And Mommy and Daddy love me. But what if you and Daddy die? Then I'll be alone."

OK, we've talked about death before. We've talked about my father's brother Johnny dying before Christmas, about how our cat Annie died shortly before the Beaner was born, about other relatives who've died.The Beaner never really seemed to grasp what death was, though, and we haven't talked about it recently, so I'm not sure how it happened to gel in his mind right now. It's funny how kids never want to talk about things when you're PREPARED to talk about them; they only ever blindside you with questions that require hours of thought in order to formulate an age-appropriate response.

Me: "Well, yes, Daddy and I will die eventually—everybody does. But we don't plan on dying anytime soon. We hope to live to be very old, by which time you'll also be very old, and better able to deal with our deaths."

The Beaner: "I don't want you and Daddy to die. Ever."

Me: "Everybody dies, sweetie, but there's no reason to believe that we'll die soon."

The Beaner: "Maybe if you die, I can go to the store and get new people."

Me: "Um, I don't think it works that way." I consider broaching the subject of the afterlife, but after a couple false starts, I decide it's too complicated. He seems to know what's going on behind all my hemming and hawing, though, and says,

The Beaner: "I hope I can find you."

Me: "I hope so, too."

Yo Gabba Gabba!

I've been working on a long post for days now, and it's holding back a flood of smaller items. I've decided just to let loose with the small stuff, and get the longer post up as soon as I can.

As I write this the Beaner is downstairs watching Yo Gabba Gabba!, by request. Sarah had mentioned that her son LOVED it, but I didn't get around to trying it out on the Beaner until Sunday night. His reaction was somewhat lukewarm; he danced to one segment in the middle almost involuntarily, but he stubbornly refused to dance or sing or follow any of the other prompts.

About half an hour ago he started talking about watching Wonder Pets (which I also screened for the first time on Sunday night) and Yo Gabba Gabba! He then said, "maybe we could watch Yo Gabba Gabba! first. The naptime one. You know, the one about naptime and sleeping. THAT ONE." So I found it on OnDemand, and as soon as the bit about the getting your wiggles out came on, he was wiggling like a maniac. He's hooked.

Secret Agent Sunscreen

I wrote this down at the time because I thought it was funny, but because I only wrote keywords and not the whole conversation, I can't remember how it came about. Let's just pick up where it gets odd, shall we?

Beaner [to me]: I'm going to call you sunscreen.

Me: Sunscreen?

Beaner: Yeah, Mommy Sunscreen.

Me: Is that my secret agent name? My code name?

Al, laughing: I could totally see that as your code name if you were like the president or the first lady or something.

Me [mouthing into pretend comm speaker]: Sunscreen is on the move. I repeat, Sunscreen is on the move. [Then, to the Beaner]: What's Daddy's secret agent name?

Beaner: TV. Daddy TV.

Al stops laughing.

Me: Seems appropriate.

We Did It!

Hey, want to see me making a total fool out of myself? I knew you would! Al, the Beaner, and I played several games of Dora on Sunday morning, with the Beaner assigning us various roles ("ok, this time I will be Swiper and Daddy will be Dora and Mommy will be Boots") and the three of us acting out Beaner-defined adventures. Here's me in the role of Dora, after Swiper (the Beaner) stole my toy Lexus that Boots (Al) and I were going to use to drive to Grandma's. [Enter the name of this blog into the password field to see the movie.]

On Freecycling the Turkey Fryer

I put our turkey fryer on freecycle last night. I got it out of the garage, washed the dust off it, and set it near the front door for pickup (I have about 8 people waiting behind the woman who said she'd come today around noon, in case she doesn't show up).

We're not just giving away a perfectly good turkey fryer, though. We're acknowledging that we're never going to be the kind of people who host large gatherings of friends for turkey fries or clambakes or lobster boils. Both of us love the idea of hosting such gatherings, and we have tons of paraphernalia around the house just in case we should ever be called on to do so.

But the fact of the matter is, at our core we're introverts. We're homebodies who'd rather get in our jammies and watch TV than go out and be social. We're people who love our friends, but the kinds of friends we tend to keep are the ones who can go long stretches without any direct communication from us. We're very self-contained, living to amuse only ourselves (and now, our kid). These traits do not tend to attract large groups of people looking for a great time. It pains us to admit this, but it's true.

Is there something you're holding onto for a "just in case" that will never happen?

beaner_car_mmviii

I think I created the first beaner_car playlist over a year ago (maybe even further back than that), using songs from his Music Class CDs mixed in with a few boppy pop favorites of mine that I thought he might like, too. Since then we've been refining his playlist, taking off songs he rejects, adding new ones he's either heard on the radio, on TV, or me humming in the kitchen, and also trying out tunes we like just to broaden his tastes a bit.

We're now up to beaner_car_x. (Although maybe we should move to beaner_car_xi now, since we just bought a used 325xi wagon to replace our current vehicle... but that's another story.) ANYWAY, my point was music, and what appeals to the Beaner right now. Here's his latest playlist, with notes:

Helping a Toddler Do It Himself

One morning a couple months ago we went to a parent thing at the Beaner's Montessori school (was it a new parent orientation? I can't remember for sure, but that sounds right), and the subject of independence came up. We started talking about ways that our 3 year-olds could do things for themselves around the house. A couple parents expressed disbelief that their about-to-turn-3s or just-turned-3s could make their own beds or get their own breakfast; others shared some cool stories about the neat things their kids had done, and the Head of School made some interesting suggestions (letting the child be responsible for small chores, keeping a calendar, etc.).

Later, when I went to pick the Beaner up from school, I ran into one of the moms who'd been at the morning session, and she remarked that she'd liked my ideas for helping the Beaner to be more independent at home. I said that one or two we came up with on our own, but the rest came from a colleague of Al's whose own child had been through a Montessori primary program. That's when we came up with the idea of having a parent get-together expressly for the purpose of exchanging ideas for making our homes more kid-friendly, and in the process, our kids more independent. The Head of School said that she'd look into hosting a coffee for that purpose, but it hasn't happened yet, I suspect because the holiday rush overtook us.

In the meantime, I thought I'd post some thoughts and photographs here, describing what we've done in our house. I'm hoping that maybe anyone Googling for "Montessori in the home" or kid-friendly or whatever will find this post and perhaps add their own ideas, too. We can have our own Internet parent coffee! And if the actual parent coffee ever does materialize, I'll have not only my ideas to share, but yours, too. So share away in the comments. Here's what's worked for us:

Stepstools
The trick to getting kids (or just letting them—chances are they're already pretty motivated!) to do things for themselves is in making it feasible for them to do things for themselves. Most of the world outside of pre-school and elementary classrooms is scaled to adults—something we don't even think about, because of course we *are* adults, and everything is within reach for us. Consider all the simple tasks we do for our toddlers today that they could probably do for themselves if they could only reach, and it should be obvious where to start.

I'm not exactly sure when our obsession with stepstools started, but I think it was when we first showed the Beaner how to pee in the toilet. With his long thigh bones and solid construction, he was too big for the little potty we got for him, so one day I just whipped out a stepstool and had him stand in front of the real toilet. From there we dragged the stepstool to the sink for him to wash his hands, and soon it got to the point where if we asked him if he had to pee, instead of answering us directly, he'd run and get his stepstool. We put a stepstool in every bathroom, and even bought one for him to use at Al's parents' house. (My mom got a few, too.)

He doesn't need one to pee in the toilet anymore (he's tall enough to clear the rim), but he still regularly uses them to reach the faucets at the sink. One morning back in September or October he came to the top of the stairs to tell me he was awake, and as usual I said to him, "OK, go pee, I'll be right up." Next thing I knew I heard his stool being dragged across the floor and dropped, and then I heard a flicking noise. "Did he just turn on the light?" I asked Al. A quick glance up the stair confirmed that he had, indeed, turned on the light. Never underestimate the power of a stepstool (or of your child's increased reach; make sure anything you wouldn't want him to get into is out of sight and higher than he can reach with a stepstool).

We have a stepstool for the kitchen, too, but it's used as much for toy storage and as a seat as it is for standing. The thing the Beaner *really* likes to stand on is the ottoman that we originally bought so we'd have a place to sit and put on our shoes. (It's supposed to reside under the shelves by the front door, but it ends up being in the kitchen 95% of the time.) I can understand why he likes it; whereas the stepstool lets him *reach* things that are on the counter, the ottoman is high enough that it lets him *work* with things on the counter. From the ottoman perch he can help me measure ingredients and stir batters and wash dishes.

We like to take a lot of weekend trips as a family, and I've found that I really miss the stepstools when I'm at hotels. (That's when you realize how much they help, how much your kid can do for himself when he can reach: when all of a sudden, he can't.) I've been leaving comments on physical and electronic suggestion forms that there should be a stepstool tucked under the sink or in the closet of every hotel room (especially in the rooms of chains that tout their family-friendliness). In the meantime, we've added 'stepstool' to our packing list for car trips.

Adjusting Downward
If you can't bring the kid to the things he needs access to, bring those things to the kid. This is one of the suggestions we got from Al's colleague: Rearrange the refrigerator and cupboards so that the items the kid uses most are within easy reach. Al moved all of the Beaner's yogurts (and he eats a LOT of yogurt) from a high shelf to a low rack in the door. We also keep applesauce and his Odwalla juices and soymilks there, and I should really put a container of pre-mixed vanilla and unsweetened soymilk down there too, so he can pour it on his cereal or drink it. (Seems like there's always more you could be letting your child do for himself if only you think about it!)

I don't know what that Snapple's doing there; I buy him cookies and feed him chocolate, but I draw the line at 5% juice drinks.

OK, it's now taken me so long to write this post (and I'm still not done!) that I've actually had a chance to put the aforementioned bottle of soymilk on the Beaner's shelf. As it happens, I did it right after he told me, on the way home from school yesterday, that he'd moved from pouring rice to pouring water. (Montessori is very big on pouring; the kids start by pouring rice and then move up to liquids.) It was so cool to see him pour his own soymilk for lunch without it getting away from him. He put in just a bit, without spilling any.

After rearranging the fridge Al tackled the cupboards, turning a small part of our Container Cupboard into a dishware station for the Beaner. I took it a step further and filled pourable containers (and one with a scoop) with his favorite cereals, so he could serve himself.

Heading down to the basement, you'll see a gift from my parents in action: A coat rack that's just the Beaner's size. He retrieves and dons his coat every morning (he still needs help with the zipper), and he hangs it up every day after school. Currently his bin of hats and mittens is above his head in the black corner storage unit; I was just thinking today, when I had to get his hat for him, that we should either hang it on the wall at Beaner height or put it on the floor next to his boots.

One other place where we've totally failed in putting things the Beaner needs within his reach is in the basement bathroom. I painted this room and installed a new mirror, toilet seat, and hardware when I was 8 or 9 months pregnant, and it didn't occur to me at the time that the baby I was carrying might someday want to wash his own hands and then dry them.

We're working on rectifying this oversight; for the time being we're leaving the towel on the sink, but I picked up another towel holder through freecycle, and we plan to install it below the light switch at about sink height (just above the stepstools). At that point we'll have two towels in this bathroom—one for grownups and one for kids.

A Place For Everything, and Everything In Its Place
We've discovered that the more we organize things, the happier the Beaner feels in his space, and the more likely he is to clean up after himself. If it's unclear where something goes, it's likely to stay out on the floor, whereas if he knows where it belongs, he will gladly put it back (and even more gladly tell you when you've put it in the wrong place). We used an Expedit and a couple Billy bookcases with dividers from IKEA to organize the basement playroom; the top shelf and middle baskets in the Expedit are mine, but all the other cubbies belong to the Beaner. The dividers in the Billy were key for storing puzzles, tall books, and car bins. There's a special section for library books, too, so we can find them easily when it's time to return them.

I think the Beaner's a born organizer anyway—he often spends an inordinate amount of time rearranging items at stores when people put them back incorrectly—but I suspect some of our latest organizational efforts have rubbed off on him. Yesterday morning when I asked him to get out a bowl and spoon for his breakfast, I turned around to find that he'd unloaded ALL of his dishes from the cupboard. "What are you doing??" I asked him. "I'm organizing!" he replied. He then restacked his plates, cups, and bowls by size and color and replaced them. "There, that's better," he said.

Keeping a Calendar
This was a suggestion from the head of school at the parent orientation, and when she said it I thought, "oh, huh, Aura's already done that." I don't think I realized how important it was until the head of school mentioned it, but after she did I started paying attention to how the Beaner and Aura used the calendar. It turns out to be a very useful way to help him understand his daily schedule, what events to expect when, and what day of the week it is.

The paw print at the top indicates "today"; the green cards are added to the calendar when activities are planned for the week. For example, if Aura knows that the books are due at the library on Thursday, she'll put the card with the library icon on it into Thursday's slot, so the Beaner will know the plan. The blue and pink cards are for evening and weekend activities, respectively, but Al and I have been really slack and haven't made use of them at all. We really should; we often know that we're planning to go out to dinner on certain nights, or that we'll be going away for a weekend or playing in a hockey game on a Saturday. These are things I'm sure the Beaner would like to know about.

Seat Yourself
I can't guarantee that providing a "just his size" chair will keep your kid off the couch or out of your favorite leather recliner (it hasn't deterred the Beaner), but it does allow the child to seat himself and feel comfortable in his space rather than drowning in it.

We got a bunch of these little green stools at IKEA prior to the Beaner's birthday party, and we LOVE them. The wicker kid's chairs are great, too, but the stools are just awesome. They're even comfortable for adults to sit on, so they're perfect for whipping out when company drops by to hang out in the living room and there isn't enough room for everyone on the couch.

Helping With Chores
It might not seem like help, exactly, when your child wants to help with chores, especially if you end up having to re-do what they've done. As the Montessori tip in one of the weekly school bulletins pointed out, however, it's often easier to find a way to let children help rather than trying to keep them from getting underfoot (and they will get underfoot, because they want to help!). There are tons of things kids can help with from a fairly young age, and they'll get better at these tasks over time, making for fewer re-dos by you. Until they get proficient, try to think of the time spent doing chores together as just that: together time. If you get something done, bonus!

For example, whenever the Beaner asks me to come down and play with him in the basement, I find myself wanting to do laundry. I mean, it's right there, and it needs to get done, and here I am, available to do it. If I step into the laundry room, however, I feel like I've totally short-changed the Beaner. So one night a few months ago, I asked him to help me sort the dirty laundry. I gave him some rules, like "all the white things go here, all non-white clothes that belong to Daddy go here, and all clothes that belong to you or Mommy go here." Anything that didn't fit one of those categories, I helped by pointing to a pile. He didn't finish the sort, but it kept him busy (and entertained!) for 10 minutes at least, helped me, and gave me a chance to fold what was in the dryer. Likewise, his folding technique isn't that great, but he can match socks and stack his underpants in a pile while I fold everything else.

Putting away silverware at 14 months; he now stands on a stool and puts the entire silverware basket away. He also knows which dishes are his and puts them away in his cupboard.

Washing dishes at just shy of 2 and a half. About three or four months ago we started asking him to clear his plate from the table when he was finished with dinner. He scrapes food into the trash, throws out his yogurt container, and takes his dishes to the sink. Sometimes he even gets up and washes them; whereas when he started he'd rinse and dry (ew!), he now has the hang of the scrubber and knows not to dry until all traces of food are gone.

Progress: Swiffering at 16 months; vacuuming and mopping the kitchen floor at 26 months; and vacuuming the stairs at 34 months. He picked up the Swiffer himself, and he begged me to let him vacuum and mop.

The Beaner has also helped me wash the bathroom floor with his own little sponge and bucket, and he's particularly fond of cleaning up with the Dustbuster. A dustpan and brush are also handy for little hands. Oh! And emptying the trash on Trash Night is a good chore for kids and parents to do together: one person holds the large trash bag while the other person empties each wastebasket into it. In season, gardening is fun for the whole family, too.

OK, I think that's all I've got for you; if you've got ideas for making your home more kid-friendly (and your kid more self-sufficient), let me know in the comments!

Addendum

I read the whole Helping a Toddler Do it Himself post from the beginning today (something I didn't do before posting it—a mistake, given that it took me over a week to write the thing), and I realized I'd left out the section on Helping with Chores. I added that today, in case you're interested.

A Mother's Work... You Know The Rest

The Beaner is downstairs wailing because he wanted me to stay down there with him, and instead I climbed the stairs to my office after feeding him lunch. I have a meeting in 7 minutes for which I have not prepared because I couldn't get him off me.

I chased him around after he was done eating, and then we sat and snuggled for five minutes, until Aura came in... at which point he went from snuggling me sweetly to clinging to me in a panic and whining that he wanted Mommy to stay. I think this gives credence to my theory that part of the reason he was so happy to see and play with Aura after Christmas is that we spent so much time together as a family during that holiday week. The more attention he gets from us, the happier he is to also get attention from Aura. If what we give isn't enough, no amount of cheeriness on Aura's part will do.

For the past couple weeks the Beaner has suggested regularly that I stay at home with him during the day and work at night. It'd be a great solution if I didn't need to sleep or spend time with Al or be available to my colleagues in Hamburg and San Francisco when they are also awake.

A Little More Care in Processing, Please

I've been taking the film out of my Vivitar to the CVS on 19th & Chestnut for just about ever, and though I'm not always happy with the results, I always chalked it up to the camera or the film, not the processing. Plus, I love the woman who does the work, and I enjoy seeing her several times a week (and also not having to tell her what I want, and not having to endure the "there's still going to be a $2.50 charge for processing" spiel).

I was just thinking yesterday, however, that perhaps I should try another lab. I got such dramatically better results when I took my film to the CVS in Pittsburgh that I realized perhaps the processing at 19th Street *was* a little off. Too lazy to think about where to go instead (maybe the Walgreen's on JFK?), I dropped off my latest roll of 400CN at the CVS as usual this morning. (Oh, did I mention that I finally broke the rewind knob off the Vivitar and had to rewind with a quarter and then pop open the spool with a screwdriver? 'Nother story.)

The results I got this morning soured me on CVS for good. The scans all have water and/or chemical stains on them, which means either that the film was scanned wet, or it wasn't rinsed properly, or something else went wrong during the processing. I'm trying to see it as an interesting effect, but I can't say I'm happy about it.

Why Yes, I Do Take Each and Every One of Them As a Personal Insult. Why Do You Ask?

Short-answer questions from Unit 2 of my online C++ course, and my short answers:

1. What is the size of a class object?

Tell me why this is important, and I might care. Or not.

2. What is the difference between a class and an object?

Yeah. See above.

3. In general, why is it a bad idea to make data members public?

I know, but I have no interest in trying to put my knowledge into words.

4. What are the similarities and differences of structures and classes? When do you use one versus the other in C++?

See answer to #3.

5. What is the primary advantage that C++ classes have over C structures?

Um, clarity? Automatic constructors and destructors? Something else? <shrug>

6. What are the advantages and disadvantages of using defaultable parameters?

Why don't YOU tell ME? That would save us all a lot of time and trouble.

7. What are the advantages and disadvantages of using name and operator overloading?

See #6.

8. Why might it be hazardous to overload comparison operators?

How about I just promise not to, and we'll call it even, OK? (Ooh! Unintentional humor!)

I am so not cut out for learning this way.

Books I've Been Reading, Part II

I'm trying to (a) read more this year, and (b) pay attention to what I'm reading. I seem to be getting to a point in my life that I actually can't remember whether I've read something or not—a day I never thought would come. For years I've wondered why my mom penciled notes into the front of books in her bookcase that said, "Read 4/89" or "Read 7/03". NOW I KNOW.

I used to keep detailed records of what I read; it's how I ended up starting the Lori's Book Reviews section of my site back in 1997 or 1998, before Amazon had its own reviews. Somewhere around 2000, however, I got so busy with hockey and meeting and dating Al and being somewhat social (I know!) that I sort of let the book reviews languish. I've been half-heartedly adding reviews to the database that I set up after the great rm -r debacle, but I haven't been keeping good records at all.

One of the few New Year's resolutions I made this year was to keep better track of what I've read, when I read it, and what I thought of it. To that end I've returned to my 1998 method of entering book titles, dates finished, and numerical ratings into my Palm Pilot (now iPhone). I'm still not sure if I'll stick to the tried-and-true method of waiting 6-12 months before writing reviews in an effort to keep them brief (I find that the more time passes between when I finish the book and when I write about it, the more likely I am to remember just the highlights), nor whether I'll just write the reviews here and paste them into the book review database, vice versa, or something else.

So far I've got reviews to write for The Other Boleyn Girl, The United States of Arugula, and The Boleyn Inheritance, but before I do that, I want to encourage you to go out and buy the book I just finished: The Amazing Adventures of Dietgirl by Shauna Reid. (The link goes to Amazon.ca because the book isn't available in the U.S. yet; if you live in the UK or Australia, you should be able to get it from Amazon.co.uk or by walking into your local bookseller and asking for it.)

It's an easy, absorbing, and memorable read; I keep thinking over bits of it, and have read passages out loud to Al. (The story about the Nutella both cracked me up and embarrassed me; while I have no love for Nutella in particular, the scenario of sneaking bits of my husband's treats until I've eaten them all, then replacing them to make amends, and then exploding when he JUST LEAVES THEM THERE IN THE CUPBOARD while they taunt me... well, let's just say it's familiar.) It's not a diet book, but a memoir about dieting, food issues, finding love (of both oneself and another), and getting support that isn't the least bit sappy or self-helpish. It's just wonderfully funny and insightful and fun to read—so go read it. I couldn't think of a single reason not to give it a 10.

First Visit to the Dentist

We've been telling the Beaner that when he goes to the dentist, he'll get a new toothbrush (because that's what happens when we go :-). He didn't seem particularly afraid to go—he was calmer about it than I was, actually—and whenever we mentioned it, he'd say, "and I'll get a new toothbrush?"

When we arrived at the dentist's office today, a little girl, age 2, came out of the exam room and made a beeline for me. "Look," she said, holding up a photograph of herself, "it's me! And I got a toofbrush, and a sticka wid Tyron[e]."

The Beaner immediately abandoned the toy he'd been playing with and came over. "Oh! I *will* get a toothbrush!" he said, eyes wide as he admired her Winnie the Pooh brush. "And maybe a sticker, and a photo, too," I said. He seemed overwhelmed at the prospect of this bounty.

He was called in a bit early, and the visit itself took no time at all. He has the 20 teeth he was expected to have (I was pretty sure they were all in there, but now and then I've had my doubts: we didn't go through anything that I could identify as "teething" or "his molars coming in", based on other parents' descriptions of such events), and he has no cavities (whew!). The dentist and hygienist also said we don't need to floss for him yet because his teeth are spaced well. Another thing both of them said: "Which one of you has the underbite?"

I said, "Not me. I think I had a slight overbite." Al also denied it. The hygienist asked if either of us had had braces; I raised my hand. Both the dentist and the hygienist remarked that underbites are usually hereditary, and the Beaner's got a doozy. It's something I noticed a long time ago, when his teeth first came in, but I guess I've gotten used to it over time. In any case, after the dentist asked us both to show our teeth, he identified Al as the source of the underbite. Apparently Al's teeth have shifted in such a way as to compensate for it, so it hasn't been a big deal. The dentist said the same thing could happen for the Beaner: His adult teeth could come in normal (unlikely, but possible), they could compensate the way Al's did (slightly more likely, but just), or they could come in just the way his baby teeth have.

In any case, we won't know until the Beaner's about 7 years old what the deal is, and orthodontia won't be on the table until around age 10-12. For now, we're just thrilled that his teeth are healthy, easy to clean, and have no cavities. And he's thrilled with his new toothbrush, yo-yo, and sticker.

Moody VI

I've mentioned my Moody playlist here before, most notably in 2003, when I was still on Moody II. As of today, 7 years after I burned the first Moody CD, I'm on Moody VI—and loving the freedom of the iTunes playlist, which doesn't limit me to what will fit on a single CD. The playlist is essentially the same as Moody II, with a few additions; I'm not sure I deleted anything from that original playlist (I don't have it in my iTunes as I originally burned it, so I'd have to find the actual CD somewhere to check), but I've edited out a few experiments over the past few versions.

For all the times I've mentioned Moody in its various incarnations, however, I don't think I've ever said exactly what it was comprised of. Here's the playlist for Moody VI, in all its perfect-for-coding, perfect-for-looping glory:

Another Music Meme: Life Sountrack

I've seen this one before, but never when I had access to my complete iTunes library. Today I happened across Myla's version in the notes to one of her Flickr photos, and thought I'd give it a try. Some of the songs seem spot on; others, not so much. I thought it was interesting that the movie of my life opens and closes with Renaissance/Early music... and there's not a Radiohead song to be found anywhere.

Opening Credits: 40.Snow Drop, Affettuossimo: Larghetto (The Broadside Band)
Waking Up: Smile On (Deee-Lite)
First Day At School: Bustin' Surfboards (The Tornadoes)
Falling In Love: Feel So High (Des'ree)
Fight Song: Love To Be Loved (Peter Gabriel)
Breaking Up: Weird Divide (The Shins)
Grad: Flood II (The Sisters of Mercy)
Life: My Ship (Miles Davis)
Mental Breakdown: Mr. Jones (Counting Crows)
Driving Far Away: Private Idaho (The B-52s)
Flashback: Rose Room (Phil Harris [Best of Big Band])
Wedding: Downer (Lush)
Birth of Child: Ultrasonic Sound (Hive, Matrix Soundtrack)
Final Battle: Paisley Park (Prince and the Revolution)
Death Scene: Steam (Peter Gabriel)
Funeral Song: The Piston Cup (Randy Newman, Cars Soundtrack)
End Credit: The Night Watch; Fairy Round; The Choyce; Heigh Ho Holiday (Jakob Lindberg)

The rules, if you want to play:

1. Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc)
2. Put it on shuffle
3. Press play
4. For every life event, type the song that’s playing
5. When you go to the next life event, press the next button
6. Don’t lie.

366 Days of Self-Portraits

No, not mine. Lots of people are doing various 365 (or 366 in this leap year) projects, and most, unlike me, started on January 1st of this year. I'm sure there are many, many great ones out there, but the one that has me captivated is tilaneseven's. Please do go see—what he's been doing with a little camera and a timer is amazing. He puts my My Every Day set to shame.