A nearly three-year-old who never watches TV is the ideal audience member for Pixar's new movie "Up" because no suspension of disbelief is required. There is no disbelief. Charlotte was really and truly convinced that everything that happened on the screen was, in fact, actually happening. Dogs really flew biplanes. Houses really soared above the clouds lifted only by balloons.
Obviously, this has its drawbacks. For one, the scary scenes (and there were a few) were actually terrifying to her, not entertaining. And at one point, Charlotte was so convinced by the animation that she exclaimed in terror that "the theater is moving, just like the house is moving!" Poor baby thought we, the audience members, were also hurtling through the air, headed straight for the ground at frightening speed.
Charlotte was not the only child frightened by the film, and she wasn't the youngest in the theater either. Both of those things made me feel a bit better about taking her to the movie. That, plus the fact that today she can only talk about "Up," about what happened in the movie, and what this character said, and what happened then, etc.
On the drive home from the theater yesterday, Charlotte said she'd like to see the movie again. "But...maybe when I'm a little bit older," she added. "Like maybe five."
Good idea.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Oh, summer. Don't ever leave.
I'm enjoying my summer vacation so much. And I think I can attribute that enjoyment to two things: 1. the vacation part (you know, being off from school); and 2. the summer part (as in, the season).
The first reason is obvious. I have time now to do all sorts of things I didn't have time for during the school year: taking long walks with the kids. Playing pointless games with Charlotte. Puttering around in my garden. Cleaning my house (!). Finally putting away my winter sweaters. Leisurely grocery shopping. Baking and cooking. Getting my haircut (finally). Coaxing Sam to roll over (still no repeat performance on this one).
And the second reason...well, summer is best for a lot of the things we're doing with all this extra time. Things like walks, and playing in the inflatable pool, and gardening, and baseball games. I think I'm getting lots of Vitamin D these days, and I feel better for it.
We spent this weekend with Jeff's parents, and it was the ideal Memorial Day weekend. Long walks, visiting the farmers' market (is that right? I'm never sure about the apostrophe in that one), grilling steaks, planting tomato plants, soaking in the wading pool. Yesterday we went to KC for Sam's first major-league game. The stars aligned for us: not only were the Tigers in town for the Tigs' visit, but they were playing an afternoon game on Memorial Day (better timing for the kiddos), it was a promotional game with $5 tickets, and it was Dollar Dog day. The rain held off until after the seventh inning, by which time the Tigers had already secured their W.
Hot Dog tally: Jana--2.667 dogs; Jeff--3 dogs; Charlotte--1.333 dogs; Sam--fiercely eyeing everyone else's hot dogs (time to start solids?)
Ah, summer.
I'm enjoying my summer vacation so much. And I think I can attribute that enjoyment to two things: 1. the vacation part (you know, being off from school); and 2. the summer part (as in, the season).
The first reason is obvious. I have time now to do all sorts of things I didn't have time for during the school year: taking long walks with the kids. Playing pointless games with Charlotte. Puttering around in my garden. Cleaning my house (!). Finally putting away my winter sweaters. Leisurely grocery shopping. Baking and cooking. Getting my haircut (finally). Coaxing Sam to roll over (still no repeat performance on this one).
And the second reason...well, summer is best for a lot of the things we're doing with all this extra time. Things like walks, and playing in the inflatable pool, and gardening, and baseball games. I think I'm getting lots of Vitamin D these days, and I feel better for it.
We spent this weekend with Jeff's parents, and it was the ideal Memorial Day weekend. Long walks, visiting the farmers' market (is that right? I'm never sure about the apostrophe in that one), grilling steaks, planting tomato plants, soaking in the wading pool. Yesterday we went to KC for Sam's first major-league game. The stars aligned for us: not only were the Tigers in town for the Tigs' visit, but they were playing an afternoon game on Memorial Day (better timing for the kiddos), it was a promotional game with $5 tickets, and it was Dollar Dog day. The rain held off until after the seventh inning, by which time the Tigers had already secured their W.
Hot Dog tally: Jana--2.667 dogs; Jeff--3 dogs; Charlotte--1.333 dogs; Sam--fiercely eyeing everyone else's hot dogs (time to start solids?)
Ah, summer.
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Charlotte and her Grandma T. are playing a guessing game.
Nana: I'm thinking of someone with hairy legs...
Charlotte: Who is it?
Nana: He has hairy legs, and not alot of hair on top of his head.
Charlotte: Who is it?
Jana: Who do you think it could be, Charlotte?
Charlotte: It's Sam!
(P.S. It was Papa T.).
Nana: I'm thinking of someone with hairy legs...
Charlotte: Who is it?
Nana: He has hairy legs, and not alot of hair on top of his head.
Charlotte: Who is it?
Jana: Who do you think it could be, Charlotte?
Charlotte: It's Sam!
(P.S. It was Papa T.).
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Around two p.m. yesterday, did you hear something you couldn't quite identify? Something sort of...breathy? Like a gigantic, huge sigh of relief? Well, that would have been me. Sorry if it blew your hair back or anything.
Yesterday afternoon I went onto campus with Charlotte to hand in my final seminar paper. My first year of my Ph.D. program is OVAH. If I knew how to insert audio clips, I'd place the Hallelujah Chorus here.
This year has been really, really amazing. Having an entire academic year off from teaching proved to be an enormous boon. I love teaching, but being able to devote myself entirely to my own studies and paper-writing, particularly this semester after Sam was born, was so helpful. Perhaps even essential. I must admit I'm more than a little nervous about how things are going to go next fall when I'm teaching two courses and taking two as well.
I have so many things I want to do this summer during my time off. I am taking a summer course (that looks to be amazing) from July 20-31, but until then I'm completely free. Well, not entirely. My to-do list grows daily. But it's a fun list. In addition to polishing and revising some of my essays to submit for publication, I have several art projects planned. There are places in Kansas City I want go as a family. Outings to parks, swimming pools, museums, baseball games. Plus I'm going to work on running again (check out See Tig Run for more on that) and will actually start cooking for my family again, too (see Tig Eats for details, there).
In addition, two days a week Jeff will be leaving the house bright and early to get in a full work day. One thing that has made this past academic year not only workable but actually pretty good was the fact that I have an amazing husband who stays at home with our kids while I am in school. I love that we don't have to pay for (and find!) daycare. I love that our kids get more daddy time in one week than some kids do in a month.
But Jeff has his goals, too, which have been put on the back burner while I'm in school. I know how hard it is to get work done in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed, especially after a long day spent caring for those kids. I hope that having some dedicated work days this summer will allow him to write and submit his poetry in a way he hasn't been able to this year.
Summer break! WOO!
Yesterday afternoon I went onto campus with Charlotte to hand in my final seminar paper. My first year of my Ph.D. program is OVAH. If I knew how to insert audio clips, I'd place the Hallelujah Chorus here.
This year has been really, really amazing. Having an entire academic year off from teaching proved to be an enormous boon. I love teaching, but being able to devote myself entirely to my own studies and paper-writing, particularly this semester after Sam was born, was so helpful. Perhaps even essential. I must admit I'm more than a little nervous about how things are going to go next fall when I'm teaching two courses and taking two as well.
I have so many things I want to do this summer during my time off. I am taking a summer course (that looks to be amazing) from July 20-31, but until then I'm completely free. Well, not entirely. My to-do list grows daily. But it's a fun list. In addition to polishing and revising some of my essays to submit for publication, I have several art projects planned. There are places in Kansas City I want go as a family. Outings to parks, swimming pools, museums, baseball games. Plus I'm going to work on running again (check out See Tig Run for more on that) and will actually start cooking for my family again, too (see Tig Eats for details, there).
In addition, two days a week Jeff will be leaving the house bright and early to get in a full work day. One thing that has made this past academic year not only workable but actually pretty good was the fact that I have an amazing husband who stays at home with our kids while I am in school. I love that we don't have to pay for (and find!) daycare. I love that our kids get more daddy time in one week than some kids do in a month.
But Jeff has his goals, too, which have been put on the back burner while I'm in school. I know how hard it is to get work done in the evenings after the kids have gone to bed, especially after a long day spent caring for those kids. I hope that having some dedicated work days this summer will allow him to write and submit his poetry in a way he hasn't been able to this year.
Summer break! WOO!
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I'm breaking radio silence to regale you with what will no doubt be a mish-mash of seemingly unrelated tidbits, because that's how I roll when I've been laboring over seminar papers nonstop for what seems like weeks. My critical texts have started entering my dreams. Last night in my dreams I was having a conversation about Anzia Yezierska with two dead theorists over cookies. At least the cookies were tasty.
So, Tulip Time was this past weekend. I have much to say about it but like I said I'm saving my coherence for my paper-writing, so all you get is this picture:
Oh my word, the Dutch cuteness is overwhelming me. Also, my baby has fat little feet.
That would be the joker at the top, not the dejected-looking sweaty blond joker, or the fat sleeping baby joker.
So, Tulip Time was this past weekend. I have much to say about it but like I said I'm saving my coherence for my paper-writing, so all you get is this picture:
Oh my word, the Dutch cuteness is overwhelming me. Also, my baby has fat little feet.And this one:
This last one deserves a bit of an anecdote. My kids are pictured with my cousin Amy's adorable son and stepdaughter Jack and Joclyn. While we were all gathered around snapping picture after picture, we were attracting a small crowd. Several random tourists wandering through Scholte Gardens were also taking pictures. Of our children. To whom they were not related. I was so busy trying to get the perfect shot that I nearly missed Jeff carefully dictating the kids' names and the spellings of their names to an old lady whose husband was snapping away with his Nikon. She wrote down the names on a tattered envelope above a little map she sketched of the kids' locations in the pictures. I can only imagine my children making their way into this random woman's scrapbook of her trip to Pella for Tulip Time 2009.
Will my children attain fame as archetypal Dutch kids? Only time will tell.
Also, today is this joker's birthday:
That would be the joker at the top, not the dejected-looking sweaty blond joker, or the fat sleeping baby joker.Happy birthday, dad!
I'll be back as soon as I can crank out some academic genius. Now, to find some cookies and dead theorists...
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
She looks impossibly small, suddenly, next to all these other kids. Although they're only a year or two older than her, they seem to tower over her, all gangly arms and shrieking mouths and long legs. They clap along with the singing and punch each other in the arms and giggle and act like kids. I look down at her, at her rounded baby-cheeks, her wide blue eyes taking it all in. Her hand holding mine tightens as she looks around in awe.
We visited Charlotte's preschool yesterday. It's official: she'll be starting in the fall, three afternoons a week. The visit went really well. I loved the school (it's run by our church)--the teachers we met were very friendly, the facilities were new and clean and organized, they have special art and music classes, and even do YOGA (I want to go to preschool!).
But I had that moment...that cliched, Hallmark-card moment when I looked down at my baby and realized she's not a baby. Even though she seemed all round belly and toddler-face yesterday, I know that by next September, she'll be taller and leaner and more capable, and she'll be the little girl in braids hugging her friend spontaneously as they walk to their classroom. She'll be the one learning and painting and singing and making friends. That moment when I thought of her little hand slipping out of mine and into one of her little friends's as they walked down the hall...well, I got a little teary-eyed.
She'll love it, of course. I remember how excited I was for school when I was a little girl. She's been begging to go to school like our neighbor boy for months. September, to her, probably seems like an eternity away.
But for me, it'll come so quickly.
We visited Charlotte's preschool yesterday. It's official: she'll be starting in the fall, three afternoons a week. The visit went really well. I loved the school (it's run by our church)--the teachers we met were very friendly, the facilities were new and clean and organized, they have special art and music classes, and even do YOGA (I want to go to preschool!).
But I had that moment...that cliched, Hallmark-card moment when I looked down at my baby and realized she's not a baby. Even though she seemed all round belly and toddler-face yesterday, I know that by next September, she'll be taller and leaner and more capable, and she'll be the little girl in braids hugging her friend spontaneously as they walk to their classroom. She'll be the one learning and painting and singing and making friends. That moment when I thought of her little hand slipping out of mine and into one of her little friends's as they walked down the hall...well, I got a little teary-eyed.
She'll love it, of course. I remember how excited I was for school when I was a little girl. She's been begging to go to school like our neighbor boy for months. September, to her, probably seems like an eternity away.
But for me, it'll come so quickly.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Bruiser
Sam had his four-month checkup today. He weighed in at 18 pounds 3 ounces (97th percentile) and was 27 inches long (off the charts here). He weighs almost a pound more than Charlotte did at that age, and is as tall as she was at nine months.
My favorite part of the appointment was when the doctor was checking his hip joints. He made a sound that caused the doctor to apologize to him. I said, "Oh, don't apologize. That's how he laughs." I can't describe the sound, although I've tried: it's sort of a throaty, grunty chuckle. It doesn't sound like a laugh, but it is. Sam's laughter is laugh-provoking. I should try to get it on video.
I've just spent part of the afternoon hanging pictures up on our dining room wall, collage-style. They're mostly pictures of the kids, although Jeff and I make a couple of appearances. One of Charlotte at nine months old stopped me in my tracks. I can see such a resemblance between her and Sam, and I can see in her chubby baby face the little girl she is now. I study Sam's face sometimes wondering how he'll look in five months, a year, three years.
Things are good. If the blog is a bit quiet over the next couple of weeks, it's because my semester is winding down...which, of course, means anything but winding down. I have two seminar papers to write, plus a number of smaller projects on my plate. So I'll try to post some Charlotte-isms and photos (here and at flickr) and other little tidbits while that's going on.
Sam had his four-month checkup today. He weighed in at 18 pounds 3 ounces (97th percentile) and was 27 inches long (off the charts here). He weighs almost a pound more than Charlotte did at that age, and is as tall as she was at nine months.
My favorite part of the appointment was when the doctor was checking his hip joints. He made a sound that caused the doctor to apologize to him. I said, "Oh, don't apologize. That's how he laughs." I can't describe the sound, although I've tried: it's sort of a throaty, grunty chuckle. It doesn't sound like a laugh, but it is. Sam's laughter is laugh-provoking. I should try to get it on video.
I've just spent part of the afternoon hanging pictures up on our dining room wall, collage-style. They're mostly pictures of the kids, although Jeff and I make a couple of appearances. One of Charlotte at nine months old stopped me in my tracks. I can see such a resemblance between her and Sam, and I can see in her chubby baby face the little girl she is now. I study Sam's face sometimes wondering how he'll look in five months, a year, three years.
Things are good. If the blog is a bit quiet over the next couple of weeks, it's because my semester is winding down...which, of course, means anything but winding down. I have two seminar papers to write, plus a number of smaller projects on my plate. So I'll try to post some Charlotte-isms and photos (here and at flickr) and other little tidbits while that's going on.
Monday, April 20, 2009
A bedtime conversation:
Jana: Goodnight, Charlotte!
Charlotte: Mama, I have a question.
J: Okay, what is it?
C: Ummmmmmm... (long pause). Do...you...like...animals?
J: Charlotte, are you stalling? Yes. I like animals. Goodnight.
C: But wait!
J: What, honey?
C: I want you to know. I DON'T like animals.
J: Okay. Noted. Goodnight, now, sweetie.
Minutes later, I hear Charlotte loudly singing in her room, NOT sleeping. I go to remind her it's bedtime.
Jana: Charlotte! It's bedtime! Time to be quiet and close your eyes and go to sleep!
Charlotte: What!?
J: It's bedtime, honey. You know that. Goodnight.
C: Mama, where is my candy (Easter candy we've been parsing out a little each day)?
J: It's downstairs, honey.
C: Is it in the heart bag?
J: Yes, Charlotte. Now, go to slee...
C: But is the bag hanging up!?
J: I think so honey. Now, it's time for bed.
C: But mama. PLEASE, make sure the bag is hanging up for me.
J: Will do. Good night!
So far, no more disturbances. But the night is still young!
Jana: Goodnight, Charlotte!
Charlotte: Mama, I have a question.
J: Okay, what is it?
C: Ummmmmmm... (long pause). Do...you...like...animals?
J: Charlotte, are you stalling? Yes. I like animals. Goodnight.
C: But wait!
J: What, honey?
C: I want you to know. I DON'T like animals.
J: Okay. Noted. Goodnight, now, sweetie.
Minutes later, I hear Charlotte loudly singing in her room, NOT sleeping. I go to remind her it's bedtime.
Jana: Charlotte! It's bedtime! Time to be quiet and close your eyes and go to sleep!
Charlotte: What!?
J: It's bedtime, honey. You know that. Goodnight.
C: Mama, where is my candy (Easter candy we've been parsing out a little each day)?
J: It's downstairs, honey.
C: Is it in the heart bag?
J: Yes, Charlotte. Now, go to slee...
C: But is the bag hanging up!?
J: I think so honey. Now, it's time for bed.
C: But mama. PLEASE, make sure the bag is hanging up for me.
J: Will do. Good night!
So far, no more disturbances. But the night is still young!
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Last night, I was just about asleep, when a thought struck me: in just a couple of months, Sam will be ready to eat baby cereal!
Seriously, these are the kinds of things that keep me awake at night.
When Charlotte was a baby, every stage seemed to stretch out to infinity. Do you know what I mean? Brand new infancy, with its constant night-waking and nursing, felt at the time like it was lasting years. Charlotte smiled for the first time when she was just over a month old, as did Sam. With Charlotte, though, it seemed as though she had been around forever, just crying and sleeping and waking and eating and pooping for ages, before cracking that first smile. Sam's smile snuck up on me. Like, what's that? Wait, you're not old enough for that! (Consults Charlotte's baby book). Oh, I guess you are. Carry on, then.
Sam's fifteen weeks old. Yesterday I busted the exersaucer and bumbo seat out and he's used both of them, briefly. Again, it felt like Charlotte was centuries old before she broke in those things. Sam feels fresh out of the hospital and he's trying to sit up! Chortling! Conversing in a secret baby language consisting of coos and grunts! How did this happen!?
That's an approximation of what went through my head last night as I tried, again, to fall asleep. Those of you who are parents to more than one child will assure me this is normal, but for me it feels anything but. It's surprising, but it's all brand new all over again.
Seriously, these are the kinds of things that keep me awake at night.
When Charlotte was a baby, every stage seemed to stretch out to infinity. Do you know what I mean? Brand new infancy, with its constant night-waking and nursing, felt at the time like it was lasting years. Charlotte smiled for the first time when she was just over a month old, as did Sam. With Charlotte, though, it seemed as though she had been around forever, just crying and sleeping and waking and eating and pooping for ages, before cracking that first smile. Sam's smile snuck up on me. Like, what's that? Wait, you're not old enough for that! (Consults Charlotte's baby book). Oh, I guess you are. Carry on, then.
Sam's fifteen weeks old. Yesterday I busted the exersaucer and bumbo seat out and he's used both of them, briefly. Again, it felt like Charlotte was centuries old before she broke in those things. Sam feels fresh out of the hospital and he's trying to sit up! Chortling! Conversing in a secret baby language consisting of coos and grunts! How did this happen!?
That's an approximation of what went through my head last night as I tried, again, to fall asleep. Those of you who are parents to more than one child will assure me this is normal, but for me it feels anything but. It's surprising, but it's all brand new all over again.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
One of the nice things about having friends and family visit* is being able to pose for a family picture without having to set up the tripod and run back to the couch while the self-timer flashes. Thanks to my friend Mindi, who spent the weekend with us, for this picture:
What's that adorable dress Charlotte's wearing? I'm glad you asked! Here it is, closer up:
My mom made this dress for her. I picked out the fabric and the pattern (find the pattern here). My mom does a great job sewing, and I always think what she makes is beautiful, but this has to be my favorite project of hers yet. Way to go, Nana!
*Another perk includes having someone else able take some of the hits from Charlotte's constant barrage of requests to read to her. Mindi really earned her stripes in that regard this weekend.
Wednesday, April 08, 2009
It's 1 a.m. I'm up working on a paper proposal, due tomorrow at 7 p.m. Instead of working, I'm thinking about: Sam's cheeks. Charlotte's singing. Jeff, who is heading home from a Bonnie Prince Billy concert. Baseball...
And that last one suddenly makes me remember a story Jeff told me when we were dating. We were talking about prank phone calling people. The basics: is your refrigerator running? etc. Then Jeff tells me about a phone call that wasn't a prank, but was totally in earnest. Somehow, 12-year-old Jeff finds the phone number for Orel Hershiser in Michigan and calls the number.
Orel Hershiser III answers the phone. Jeff asks "Is Orel there?" It doesn't take the man long to figure out this 12-year-old baseball fanatic is referring to his slightly more famous son, Orel Hershiser IV. This Orel, sadly, was not home, as he no longer lived with his parents in Michigan. Jeff recalls having a brief but pleasant conversation with Orel's father, though.
I love this story.
And that last one suddenly makes me remember a story Jeff told me when we were dating. We were talking about prank phone calling people. The basics: is your refrigerator running? etc. Then Jeff tells me about a phone call that wasn't a prank, but was totally in earnest. Somehow, 12-year-old Jeff finds the phone number for Orel Hershiser in Michigan and calls the number.
Orel Hershiser III answers the phone. Jeff asks "Is Orel there?" It doesn't take the man long to figure out this 12-year-old baseball fanatic is referring to his slightly more famous son, Orel Hershiser IV. This Orel, sadly, was not home, as he no longer lived with his parents in Michigan. Jeff recalls having a brief but pleasant conversation with Orel's father, though.
I love this story.
Friday, April 03, 2009
Thursday, April 02, 2009
Employee's Name: Sam Tig
Title: Second-born
Hire date: December 27, 2008
SUPERVISOR'S INSTRUCTIONS: The supervisor is to meet with the employee to discuss the employee's job performance at the three-month mark.
Forward a copy of the completed form to Human Resources.
OPTION 1: EMPLOYEE MEETS EXPECTATIONS IN ALL AREAS
Employee performs all significant tasks according to expectations. Work is performed with
expected supervision. (Removal of probationary status - provide signatures and dates below.)
OPTION 2: EMPLOYEE MEETS EXPECTATIONS IN MOST AREAS; SOME IMPROVEMENT NEEDED
Employee performs most significant tasks according to expectations. However, some tasks are performed below par. Employee occasionally requires higher levels of supervision. (Probationary status remains in effect until six-month review.)
SUPERVISOR'S NOTES:
In his three months at Tig Co., Sam has managed to perform several tasks according to employer expectations, specifically: nursing (included within this job title also: chin acquisition, burping/spitting up, general weight gain); diaper filling, type 1 and type 2; general adorableness (smiling, cooing, and chubbiness fall within this category as well). In addition, Sam should be commended for his early attempts at sitting up and what appear to be moves toward teething, if levels of drool production attest.
However, Sam's initial promise as a good sleeper has recently proved premature. Employees at Tig Co. are expected to learn to sleep without supervisor's assistance. After a grace period where Sam's supervisor instructed him in the procedure and expectations for sleep, Sam continued to require supervisor intervention. In addition, Sam's need for supervisor assistance has escalated in recent days.
COMMENTS AND RECOMMENDATION:
OPTION 2. I have discussed this evaluation and my recommendation for this employee is continued employment. However, a six-month review is necessary in order to determine if employee has resolved sleep issues, and if employee continues to perform other tasks at appropriate levels.
Title: Second-born
Hire date: December 27, 2008
SUPERVISOR'S INSTRUCTIONS: The supervisor is to meet with the employee to discuss the employee's job performance at the three-month mark.
Forward a copy of the completed form to Human Resources.
OPTION 1: EMPLOYEE MEETS EXPECTATIONS IN ALL AREAS
Employee performs all significant tasks according to expectations. Work is performed with
expected supervision. (Removal of probationary status - provide signatures and dates below.)
OPTION 2: EMPLOYEE MEETS EXPECTATIONS IN MOST AREAS; SOME IMPROVEMENT NEEDED
Employee performs most significant tasks according to expectations. However, some tasks are performed below par. Employee occasionally requires higher levels of supervision. (Probationary status remains in effect until six-month review.)
SUPERVISOR'S NOTES:
In his three months at Tig Co., Sam has managed to perform several tasks according to employer expectations, specifically: nursing (included within this job title also: chin acquisition, burping/spitting up, general weight gain); diaper filling, type 1 and type 2; general adorableness (smiling, cooing, and chubbiness fall within this category as well). In addition, Sam should be commended for his early attempts at sitting up and what appear to be moves toward teething, if levels of drool production attest.
However, Sam's initial promise as a good sleeper has recently proved premature. Employees at Tig Co. are expected to learn to sleep without supervisor's assistance. After a grace period where Sam's supervisor instructed him in the procedure and expectations for sleep, Sam continued to require supervisor intervention. In addition, Sam's need for supervisor assistance has escalated in recent days.
COMMENTS AND RECOMMENDATION:
OPTION 2. I have discussed this evaluation and my recommendation for this employee is continued employment. However, a six-month review is necessary in order to determine if employee has resolved sleep issues, and if employee continues to perform other tasks at appropriate levels.
Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
Today, Sam is three months old. To celebrate, he caught his sister's cold and decided to remind us what he was like at three weeks. In other words: crying, waking up every two hours, boycotting naps. Fun! Lesson learned, Samuel. We appreciate you as a three-month-old.
So I'm tired and don't have much to say that's clever and witty or even interesting. However, Charlotte does. So here's a transcript Jeff typed up (along with introductory explanation) of their conversation over dinner:
"This is a transcript (or as close as i could get) of Charlotte 'reading' the player bios off the backs of some baseball cards. (Jana awesomely brought home 3 packs of 2009 Topps cards this afternoon for her, C, and I to each open. At first I thought, Grumble...these were probably way too expensive - 50 cents a pack, in my day - and they're bound to be worthless; but then I spent the next hour looking at them, reading stats, etc. Charlotte picked up on the general sound/formula of the bios from the ones I read aloud, and then at the dinner table decided it was her turn. While the info varied [to a degree], the 'player' name was the same for each card she picked up and read. She must have [mis]heard me read Conor Jackson's card...):
"Michael Jackson knows how to walk and talk when he sneezes and burps and plays ball."
"Michael Jackson knows how to pat ladies' backs and say Hey Ladies, you have a great big tummy. You write that on my blog." [That last part may have been a side-note to me, rather than a Michael quote.]
"Michael Jackson knows how to sheff [chef?] people's face away." [Sheff, Charlotte? "Sheff mean like to push their face away."] I think she means "shove"--Jana
"Michael Jackson knows how to walk and talk and play ball and throw balls and books and throw apples and rescues and pencils and laps and cameras."
"Michael Jackson knows how to read books and drink milk and drink strawberries and drink bananas."
"Michael Jackson knows how to play with toys."
"Michael Jackson knows how to play with mans and womans and strawberries and cans and coconut milk and butter and milk and crackers and crackers and crackers again and crackers again."
"Michael Jackson does all those things but also he can toot."
"That all Michael Jackson can do."
"Walk with Michael Jackson."
[pause...short break to eat; not much interest in food]
[What does this card say, Charlotte?]
"It says, 'Hey Ladies, you have big tummy.'"
"Michael Jackson knows how to play ball at the stadium and get popcorn."
"'Always be a good girl,' Michael Jackson said."
"Michael Jackson knows how to play a game called B-I-B-L-E."
[The End]
So I'm tired and don't have much to say that's clever and witty or even interesting. However, Charlotte does. So here's a transcript Jeff typed up (along with introductory explanation) of their conversation over dinner:
"This is a transcript (or as close as i could get) of Charlotte 'reading' the player bios off the backs of some baseball cards. (Jana awesomely brought home 3 packs of 2009 Topps cards this afternoon for her, C, and I to each open. At first I thought, Grumble...these were probably way too expensive - 50 cents a pack, in my day - and they're bound to be worthless; but then I spent the next hour looking at them, reading stats, etc. Charlotte picked up on the general sound/formula of the bios from the ones I read aloud, and then at the dinner table decided it was her turn. While the info varied [to a degree], the 'player' name was the same for each card she picked up and read. She must have [mis]heard me read Conor Jackson's card...):
"Michael Jackson knows how to walk and talk when he sneezes and burps and plays ball."
"Michael Jackson knows how to pat ladies' backs and say Hey Ladies, you have a great big tummy. You write that on my blog." [That last part may have been a side-note to me, rather than a Michael quote.]
"Michael Jackson knows how to sheff [chef?] people's face away." [Sheff, Charlotte? "Sheff mean like to push their face away."] I think she means "shove"--Jana
"Michael Jackson knows how to walk and talk and play ball and throw balls and books and throw apples and rescues and pencils and laps and cameras."
"Michael Jackson knows how to read books and drink milk and drink strawberries and drink bananas."
"Michael Jackson knows how to play with toys."
"Michael Jackson knows how to play with mans and womans and strawberries and cans and coconut milk and butter and milk and crackers and crackers and crackers again and crackers again."
"Michael Jackson does all those things but also he can toot."
"That all Michael Jackson can do."
"Walk with Michael Jackson."
[pause...short break to eat; not much interest in food]
[What does this card say, Charlotte?]
"It says, 'Hey Ladies, you have big tummy.'"
"Michael Jackson knows how to play ball at the stadium and get popcorn."
"'Always be a good girl,' Michael Jackson said."
"Michael Jackson knows how to play a game called B-I-B-L-E."
[The End]
Sunday, March 22, 2009
Twelve Things About My Twelve-Week-Old
1. He sleeps 70% of the time. I figured it out.
2. The other 30% is typically spent eating, smiling, or looking around bemusedly.
3. He's huge. I hope to have stats later this week, but I'm guessing well over 15 pounds.
4. He loves his sister. He cranes his neck to see her when he hears her voice.
5. He hates baths. Bathtime is one of the few times you'll hear Sam scream.
6. The other time is diaper changing times, although not every time.
7. His hair looks a bit lighter than it did when he was born. I'd say it's more of an auburn now.
8. He take a pacifier, and seems to be trying to figure out how to suck his thumb.
9. He has started cooing, and it's the cutest sound in the world.
10. He's a grunter--grunts in his sleep and when he's awake just for fun. He has a repertoire of grunts, including a very specific one that signals he's about to poop.
11. He belches louder than any baby I've ever met.
12. He's twelve weeks old now. I can't believe it's only been twelve weeks--I feel like he's been in our lives forever.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
I haven't been feeling very inspired to write lately. Here are a few Charlotte-isms to get you through until my muse decends once again.
Jeff, Charlotte and I are sitting downstairs. The sounds of Sam stretching and groaning as he wakes up come over the monitor. One sound is particularly funny, and sounds especially anguished, and I say: Was that Sam?
Charlotte: (she insists on calling Sam "Walter") Walter.
Jeff: Yep. That was him. Old Man Walt.
Pause. Then,
Charlotte: Walter isn't old! Walt is new! Walt is a brand-new baby!
Charlotte and I are playing at the toddler open-gym. She sees a pregnant woman.
Charlotte: What does that lady have in her tummy?
Jana: She has a baby in her tummy. Just like mommy did.
Charlotte: And your tummy is still big!
Jana: Uh, thanks.
In the car:
Charlotte: You're a good driver, mama.
Jana: Thanks!
Charlotte: When I get big, I will be a good driver, too. And I will drive all the way to Iowa! And there will be animals there, and they will be magical. And the animals will say, "Hello, Mrs. Whosit!"
While digging the plot for our garden:
Charlotte: This is the roof of the house, and inside there will be bunnies and grasshoppers. This is their living room (pointing to a particular chunk of sod) and this is their carpet.
Charlotte toots.
Charlotte: I'm sorry.
Jeff: You don't have to apologize.
Charlotte: I'm sorry I love my own toots!
Jeff, Charlotte and I are sitting downstairs. The sounds of Sam stretching and groaning as he wakes up come over the monitor. One sound is particularly funny, and sounds especially anguished, and I say: Was that Sam?
Charlotte: (she insists on calling Sam "Walter") Walter.
Jeff: Yep. That was him. Old Man Walt.
Pause. Then,
Charlotte: Walter isn't old! Walt is new! Walt is a brand-new baby!
Charlotte and I are playing at the toddler open-gym. She sees a pregnant woman.
Charlotte: What does that lady have in her tummy?
Jana: She has a baby in her tummy. Just like mommy did.
Charlotte: And your tummy is still big!
Jana: Uh, thanks.
In the car:
Charlotte: You're a good driver, mama.
Jana: Thanks!
Charlotte: When I get big, I will be a good driver, too. And I will drive all the way to Iowa! And there will be animals there, and they will be magical. And the animals will say, "Hello, Mrs. Whosit!"
While digging the plot for our garden:
Charlotte: This is the roof of the house, and inside there will be bunnies and grasshoppers. This is their living room (pointing to a particular chunk of sod) and this is their carpet.
Charlotte toots.
Charlotte: I'm sorry.
Jeff: You don't have to apologize.
Charlotte: I'm sorry I love my own toots!
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