Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Teacher's anxiety dream

Last night I dreamed I walked into my classroom and it was swarming with unfamiliar faces. There were about three times as many people there as were supposed to be there. A respected colleague was sitting in the back of the room to observe my teaching skills. I started taking attendance and at every turn was foiled by something. I kept pacing back and forth in front of them saying, "You there-- now what did you say your name was? And have you been here before? You don't look familiar. Now you say you're registered for my section, but are you sure? Maybe you're on the wait list? And are you certain you took the prerequisite course to qualify for this one?" This went on and on, and was made all the more difficult by the fact that the students kept talking to one another and getting up and changing seats. By the time class was over--an hour and forty-five minutes later--I still had not completed taking attendance. In the end of the dream I was saying to the colleague who had come to observe me, "I want you to know, I don't think this session really showed all that I'm capable of doing as a teacher! When you go to write up your observation of me, please keep that in mind!"

Yeah. I've had many teaching anxiety nightmares, including the one about finding yourself in front of them not wearing certain key articles of clothing, and also the one in which you suddenly realize it's the first day of class but you have not prepared a syllabus and have no idea where your classroom is; and I've also had a recurring nightmare from a student's perspective, in which it's suddenly determined that my Ph.D. should be revoked because it's revealed that I didn't complete high school math/gym (in my recurring dream, it alternates between these two, and I'm always sent back to high school, in my thirties, to complete math/gym).

But this is a new one. It takes me an hour and forty-five minutes to take attendance. Hmmmm.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Farm animals

Why do children love them?

When I asked my mom today why children (i.e. Daisy) love cows so much, she told me that she too had adored cows as a girl and that the answer was obvious: "Udders." So I guess the next question is, "Why do children love cow udders?"

The other day I was giving Daisy a nap in the rocking chair (an all too short nap, since she woke up very shortly choking on congestion). She started coughing, and wiggling, and squirming, but I knew the nap was truly over when her eyes fluttered open and she yelled, immediately, "Dirty pigs!" with great delight. That was her first thought upon waking-- dirty pigs.

So, there's something to it. Pigs, dirt, cows, udders. Somehow, it is totally fascinating.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Parental and filial hardship

Well, last night we hit what felt to me like one of the worst trials yet of parenthood, and I'm sure if Daisy could tell us, she'd say it's been one of her worst times, too... she just couldn't stop barfing. She has been sick since Saturday with what I thought was just a cold, but I'm not so sure anymore. She is very congested and has a horrible, chesty cough. The doctor had assured us it wasn't anything like pneumonia so that we shouldn't be worried, but just try to get through it with her; baby cold medicines are off the market, as you probably know if you're a parent. But yesterday she seemed worse than ever. She threw up all over our bed while she was nursing; she had dinner afterward, but ended up throwing it up everywhere after she went to bed. It is all a blur, but I think she threw up once after that, too. She has been throwing up so many times each day that we had to buy new crib sheets because we can't keep up with the wash. It is scary and difficult and sad. She's exhausted but has been unable to nap because she's so stuffed up. On Monday I decided I'd rock her through her nap time, holding her fairly upright to help her breathing, but even so she could only sleep about ten minutes because she was drowning in so much mucous. So things are just snowballing: exhaustion, throwing up, then not having enough nutrition and getting dehydrated, I fear, all adding on to the original problem of the cold (or whatever it is). And she had JUST been recovering from this awful rash, the Gianotti Crosti syndrome, which manifested in all these awful red papules all over her body. She is mostly over that, thank God, though her feet are still blistering. I hate feeling so helpless... and I am tired myself and demoralized. We're back at school this week, too, and I am trying to start things off well with my students. Hard to do when you're so tired and when your whole house reeks of barf.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Daisy and Henry

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Licking and pooping

1) Today in her bath, Daisy started calling the filled tub a "lake." Then she started squatting down and licking at the bath water, like a dog. She'd stand back up and say with a big smile, "Licks lakes!" It was so odd, and funny. It finally struck me that she was enacting a favorite page from the Dr. Seuss book FOX IN SOCKS: "Luke Luck licks lakes, Luke's duck licks lakes!"

I have to say that Dr. Seuss, as brilliant as he is, has not been terribly good for Daisy's hygiene. Every single night at dinner she puts her food "up on top," so that I am constantly having to take the food out of her hair. She also puts her fork and her sippy cup up on top. Why, Dr. Seuss? Why?

2) Has anyone else had this experience?: Every time--every single time--Daisy sees her Baby Einstein video, Van Goat (yes, that is right: I have allowed Daisy to view a Baby Einstein video; she totally adores it), she poops. She poops BIG TIME. It can't be a coincidence. I think the video makes her feel so excited that her bowels give way. It is sort of touching. And smelly.

Friday, January 04, 2008

Conversations with Daisy

Last night during her bath I asked Daisy, "What does the cow say?" (A silly little game we play, where I go through the animals, and Daisy usually gives the right answer.)

This time she paused for awhile and then answered, "What does Elise say?" (her good friend whom she saw earlier that day.) A few minutes later she added, "What does Hen say?" (Hen is another good friend.)

I thought it was pretty cool, the way she changed the rules of the game. So I asked her what Mama and Dada say, as well, and here are some of my favorite answers. According to Daisy, Mama says, "Hello, Pussy!" and "Bath!" And Dada says (I kid you not), "Boobies."

Daisy also counted how many Dadas she has, pointing to Mark and proclaiming, "One, two, three, four, five Dadas!" (She told me I have six boobies as well.)

Another conversation, between Mark and Daisy:

Mark: What is that, Daisy? (pointing up)
Daisy: Lights!
Mark: Is it the sun?
Daisy: NOT the sun!

That just cracks me up. (Until two days ago she referred to indoor lighting as "the sun.")

The storm is here

And Daisy is at the window, watching all the water pouring down, and saying, "Rain, rain, go away!"

Thursday, January 03, 2008

I'm so proud

This morning Daisy pointed to the overhead lights and said, "NOT the sun!"

Wednesday, January 02, 2008

Indulgent motherly post

Daisy=17 months

Daisy has invented a game and a joke (sort of). It harkens back to her swimming class, in which one of the activities involved sitting the babies on the pool ledge, chanting "Humpty Dumpty," and then saying, "1, 2, 3...splash!" (and splashing them into the pool). A few days ago, Daisy started sitting her rubber ducky on the tub faucet and saying a version of Humpty Dumpty, culminating in the duck splashing into the pool. I *think* it's fair to say this is the first real game she invented, involving a character (the duck). (Well, a possible precursor was an activity in which various tub items were put in and out of cups, and then went "fwimming.")

But now she has several variations on the Humpty Dumpty game. Today I asked her to do a Humpty for me, and she thought it was hilarious to say, "Humpty Dumpty had a duck!" She said it several times, crystal clear--unfortunately, she is no longer saying "Humpy Dumpy," but is now inserting the appropriate "ts." Yesterday she thought it was funny to say, "Humpy Dumpy...put it up there!" and put the duck on the faucet. It's interesting to me that I know she knows the right words to say, and is having a sort of joke out of inserting unexpected words.

Daisy often now tries to use multiple words together, instead of just one. She is saying what sound like sentences frequently, but often we can only understand a word or two of them. Or she'll try for a long sentence (from a song or nursery rhyme), but leave out a bunch of words. So she'll say "Noble pinces bow when came" (for "Noble kings and princes would bow whenever they came" in "Puff the Magic Dragon"). She does have a pretty good variety of little sentences and phrases going, too, including "out the window," "hold hands," and "get up," and she has some longer words now, too; today she said "macaroni," as clear as could be. She also knows "windmill," we learned--and "keppe" (head). She's got a variety of head-related words. When she falls down or bumps her head even slightly, she says, "Oh, conk!"

And I'm glad to report that she no longer thinks overhead lights are the sun, although lately she calls houses "barns." Well, we are all animals, after all.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

I am typing goddess

106 words

Touchtyping for free



But I don't type the "right" way.