I guess I have a blog

Bake Pops

2012-01-29T19:24:00.001-08:00

Daisy's new obsession-- cake balls on a stick. We made these together.

Father-daughter collaboration

2012-01-29T16:59:00.001-08:00

Happy Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T22:31:00.000-08:00

Daisy loves kindergarten

2011-10-03T19:15:00.000-07:00

I love our new school so far. It is almost unbelieveble how smoothly the transition went. Daisy seemed happy to go from the very beginning, and it's only gotten better. Now she tells us, "I am used to Kittredge!" with a tone of happy triumph in her voice, and it's been no time at all. She says "I love school" frequently, describes having friends, and seems totally comfortable and at home there. She even seems to enjoy the (very brief amount of) homework.

She comes home from school volunteering hefty amounts of information about what she did all day. She seems truly excited about the content she's learning. For weeks she told us all about matter--solids, liquids, and gases!--and now that they're doing a Social Studies unit, she tells us all about the Inuit, and in some vivid detail. She proudly announced today that she has been appointed the class "historian."

We (the adults) haven't made friends yet, but I am trying not to be impatient and know that it will happen. It may have been easier at preschool because I was volunteering all the time. I will try to find a good day to volunteer at Daisy's kindergarten, I think.

Conversations with Daisy

2011-10-03T19:10:00.000-07:00

Daisy: Mama, want to hear me use "execute" in a sentence? "I execute my donut. I execute my grandma."

Me: Uhhh...ummmm...

Daisy: It's a song! "I execute my donut. I execute my grandma. I execute everybody. I execute my mom and dad."

Mark (cryptically): It's not always good to use the word "execute."

Daisy: I'm using it in a good way.

Mark: It's not a good word to use about *people*.

Daisy: But it's a song.

Mark: That's what all the violent media moguls say!

Checking in

2011-09-13T11:02:00.000-07:00

Daisy has named two of her headbands. Their names are "Flowersworth" and "Wacky Rose." She says things like, "I feel like wearing Wacky Rose today" and "I haven't worn Flowersworth to kindergarten yet." I find this cute.

Things have been continuing to go well for Daisy at kindergarten, and I find that the problem, if anything, is me. I have a hard time not worrying. I think pointless thoughts, like, "Maybe she should have spent another year in preschool"--not because she's not mentally ready for kindergarten, but I worry about emotional readiness. I took her out of her familiar, safe, happy place, where she had a close friend she looked forward to seeing every day, and I've put her somewhere totally new. There is only one other girl in her kindergarten class, and luckily, they seem to like each other. And there are first-grade girls who are in the same room. I don't mean to say that she couldn't be friends with boys--she has friends who are boys--but I've noticed that same-sex bonding seems important at this age. (Ha, that reminds me: when I walked Daisy through the door this morning, one of the first-grade girls exclaimed, "Oh good, there's another girl here now!" The room really does seem to have a lot more boys in it.)

Daisy seems fine, and I don't even exactly know what my problem is. It's not the school, as I remain convinced it was a great choice for my daughter: small, cozy and nurturing, yet characterized by stimulating academics. Boy, that's one thing about Daisy--she is intellectually active. Cognitively speaking, I think she was more than ready for kindergarten. She is coming home full of details about what she learned at school. Last night she sang us a "liquids, solids, and gases" song at dinner and told us all about "molecules." She is learning Spanish and seems to love the acting class they do. She looks forward to doing her homework at night! And her astronomy questions have officially transcended my ability to answer them. She asked me a million questions about the setting of the sun last night, as we drove past the ocean and saw it sinking. I took a stab at it, babbling something about the rotation of the earth, but, yeah, I'm going to have to do research now in order to answer her questions adequately.

So, yeah, the problem is me. I guess I have to face the fact that transitions are hard for me. I miss her preschool. I miss the people, mainly. I miss the feeling of belonging somewhere. I knew it would be this way. When we started preschool, I felt similarly lonely. It takes a while to fit in somewhere, to develop relationships and an identity that means something in the new context. Here I am, immersed in change. I gave up my MFT program and went back to teaching after two years, another big transition. I am finally at a point where I can feel a little sad about quitting the MFT program; for months I couldn't feel anything but relief. I still think it was the right decision, but it's good to be able to feel some sadness about it, now that the anger (at how my traineeship agency treated us) and relief have dissipated.

So far, so good

2011-09-01T21:19:00.001-07:00

Daisy has been in kindergarten for two days and so far, everything is going well and we are all feeling very positively about her school. Daisy was cheerful when we picked her up today and informed us, "School is very exciting" and "you picked the perfect school for me." She also said, "I am meeting lots of new friends." I know... it sounds like she read the textbook on what parents want to hear from their new kindergartener. But it seems sincere. She is enthusiastic about her teacher, about the principal, and about several new kids she's met. She was very excited about her Spanish classes, which didn't surprise us, and loved her art class but said it didn't last long enough. So far, so good!

I am bracing myself for her maybe having some hard days next week, when the novelty of the experience wears off. This is what happened with preschool; she made it through the first three or four days with total stoicism but broke down at the end of the week. I think she was trying so hard to hold all her feelings together. She is such a grownup in certain ways! For example, she said to me yesterday, regarding a potential night of camping with her friend Henry in his yard (which would be her first sleepover at a friend's house), "If I have a hard time, I will try to comfort myself." Such coping!

But there's something about this school that just feels right. It's so small and cozy, so personable. I feel really good about leaving her there. It means the world to me to know she's going to be "known," her thoughts and feelings acknowledged and recognized by the people there. I just don't doubt that. Emotionally, she is in good hands. And academically and artistically, I can see there's going to be a lot of stimulating stuff for our inquisitive daughter. She comes home each day with a folder showing what she's worked on, and drawings. There is a communication sheet to be passed back and forth between the teacher and us--it comes home in the folder every day. We can write notes to the teacher and slip them in the folder, and she will respond or write notes to us.

We took Daisy to have her TB test checked at Kaiser after school today and Daisy told the nurse, very importantly, "I am in NORMAL school now." The nurse asked, "As opposed to abnormal school?" But I think this is Daisy's way of saying she is no longer in "pre" school. She seemed so happy. I brought myself to tears today thinking about how much better her kindergarten experience seems to be going than mine did when I was her age. I had a mean teacher who didn't like me because I was already reading and misinterpreted my painful shyness as some kind of aloofness or standoffishness. I was unhappy. I wanted my daughter to have a different experience, and I think she will.

She also told the nurse, again with great importance, that she knows a seventh grader at the school and he greeted her outside the school. One of her preschool teachers, Cheryl, has a son who goes to the same school, and he said the sweetest hello to Daisy today. You can imagine what prestige goes to a kindergartener who is greeted by name by a 7th grader! The nurse told Daisy, "I would be thrilled if a 7th grader talked to me, too, even at my age." (This is the same nurse who gave Daisy FIVE injections on Tuesday to get her medical record up to speed for kindergarten, and so she knows what a stoic Daisy is; Daisy did not shed one tear.)

If I had any doubts about her readiness, I am not having them now. I am a bit curious if she's the very youngest person in the school--something tells me she is. But mentally and emotionally, she seems right up to speed so far. I hope they love her! Just like every parent-- I hope they love her.

Daisy's first day of kindergarten

2011-08-31T10:07:00.000-07:00

Daisy was excited this morning to start kindergarten. We picked a favorite dress to wear and Daisy insisted on wearing her garish pink belt around her waist, a look I really wish she would move beyond--but it was her first day of school and she could wear whatever she wanted, of course! She told me she had had a happy dream about starting, and when I pulled up outside the school, she said, "This is just the way it was in my dream!" There were balloons tied up outside the school ("it is a celebration," Daisy said) and the very warm and kind principal, Mr. L., standing outside to welcome the kids. I took Daisy into the kindergarten room and a nice mom, the president of the parents' association, picked up on our newness and confusion and helped us find Daisy's cubby, where she keeps her lunch, and her hook, where she hangs her backpack and coat. Maybe it sounds silly, but it made me feel good that she had her own designated cubby and hook with her name on them.

I was determined to be positive and not shed tears myself, but the truth is that I started tearing up the minute I saw the balloons and Mr. L outside the school. I am proud to say the tears did not come out until after I had left Daisy! But it became especially hard when I noticed she was doing this thing where she rubs her eyes; I know it's because her eyes are becoming teary, but she denies it. I asked her if she was feeling nervous and she said firmly, "No, I am not nervous! I am excited."

Right at the perfect moment, Mr. L came in the room and talked to the kids, and then Daisy's wonderful new teacher, Ms. Pon-Barry, said she was going to read a book to all the kids. At that point parents were asked to leave and go in the back courtyard, where there was coffee. I had told Daisy I'd be right outside, and I think that was a comfort. When I left her, she was looking fine, no tears. The only thing, and it's something that always gets me about her, is that she went up to the front of the circle but then faltered and hesitated and let other kids kind of inadvertently push her to the back. I had to tell her, "Go ahead and sit down!" She can be so uncertain about claiming her space, and one thing I noticed is that she was one of the smallest, youngest kids and, for some reason, there seemed to be a lot more boys than girls.

I went out in the courtyard for the coffee, leaving Daisy looking fine, and at that point the tears came out a little bit. What got to me was watching Daisy be so brave and try to be so grown-up. But it wasn't about feeling anything negative, feeling like she wasn't going to be okay or anything like that. On the contrary, I left feeling great about the school. It really seems to embody its slogan, emphasizing a "warm and nurturing environment" for kids.

I talked mainly with another mom whose son was starting today, and she also teared up a bit. She was very nice and it occurred to me, though it's obvious, that the school is going to be full of other parents who value the same kinds of things I do (a small, warm, cozy, nurturing environment for their kids). Her son was 6 starting kindergarten, and it reinforced the sense I'd had from looking at the kids that Daisy is one of the youngest kindergarteners. We'll have to see how that goes. Certainly I believe she is intellectually ready for kindergarten, but since she's already somewhat delayed physically for her age, I'm a bit concerned that she'll be at a pretty massive disadvantage physically, given that she may be the youngest kid on top of it all.

But I left with a very positive, happy feeling, knowing I was leaving Daisy in great hands. Oh, and this is very cool: they offered us free extended care after school, which goes till 6 pm, and it can be on a spontaneous basis. We hadn't signed up for it, because we want to give Daisy a chance to adjust to school and we're not sure how much we may need it, but Mr. L said we could use it whenever we wanted and that they were flexible about how much notice we gave. It's such an easygoing, friendly atmosphere at this school. I am optimistic!

I almost forgot: I saw Daisy a couple more times before I left, because I went upstairs to the office to turn in Daisy's vaccination papers and ask a few logistical questions. Ms. Pon-Barry was giving the new kids a tour of the school, so I saw all the kids file by and poke their heads into different classrooms. Daisy looked totally fine, if extremely wide-eyed. She smiled at me but didn't run over for hugs or anything like that. She stayed with her group and was looking quite grown up.

My amazing 5-year-old...

2011-08-22T15:55:00.001-07:00

...just said to me, "Let's collaborate a drawing for Papa." Haha. It's his birthday in mid-Novemeber and she feels we have to get started on his present already.

5-year-old Teenager

2011-08-21T12:24:00.001-07:00

"I can do what *I* think is right for *me*!" has been the refrain of the morning.

Umm... why did no one warn me that a 5-year-old is just like a teenager???

Daily Daisy Aphorism

2011-08-05T10:24:00.001-07:00

"I'm not a pants-lover."

Daisy Loves Queen

2011-08-03T19:50:00.000-07:00

She asked to listen to "We Will Rock You" and "We Are the Champions" as her lullabye before going to sleep.

Daisy quote of the day....

2011-08-03T19:17:00.000-07:00

"I feel like Mommy is my big sister!" She looked truly thrilled as she said this.

Parenting hard-ness

2011-07-29T13:24:00.001-07:00

Daisy has been having a hard time lately, and that hard time manifests itself in ways that can legitimately be seen as... annoying or even obnoxious. She is physically not as strong or adept as kids her own age, or even younger, and is routinely out-raced, pushed down, overpowered, and in other ways dominated or outdone by other kids physically. This prompts her to speak out, in frustration, words that can certainly be heard as obnoxious. She tells other kids, "Get away from me!" and "Mine, mine!", desperately territorializing an object she fears will be easily taken away from her in a moment by the stronger kid. As an OT we consulted with told us, "She controls her world through language because she cannot do so physically." As her parents, and because we see the whole picture, we sympathize with her, but we are also trying to help her learn to moderate her words and behavior so that she can get along in the world.

But it is hard. I know she is especially sensitive to my opinion, and when I try to talk to her about something she's said or done, her eyes fill with tears and she seems deeply wounded. She feels criticized by me, even when I word things as carefully as I can. Aaaaa. This is hard.

Daisy's "List of Things I Like About Myself"

2011-07-27T19:16:00.003-07:00

To be ongoing, but she started it today:

"I am silly, and I am a great thinker."

Daisy's Rules for Kindergarten

2011-06-29T13:37:00.000-07:00

Daisy just told me what she thinks the rules are for kindergarten. Here they are, verbatim:

1) Never, ever lie.
2) Do not say you have to go to the bathroom if you don’t have to go.
3) Never, ever go to school in disguises.
4) Do not bring things to share if it is not Share Day.
5) Do not bring computers to school.
6) Never bring pictures to school.

Daisy's banner is on the web

2011-06-26T21:58:00.001-07:00

http://www.fairmontheritageplace.com/heritageplace/ghirardelli

Red, Red Robin

2011-06-16T11:49:00.001-07:00

Daisy's Pre-K class performs at graduation

2011-06-15T09:54:00.000-07:00

Bob Dylan performs "Kookaburra" for the kids after the official performance

2011-06-14T23:24:00.001-07:00

Daisy's Preschool Graduation

2011-06-14T22:34:00.001-07:00

Non-aggressive child

2011-06-14T13:46:00.000-07:00

Today I watched Daisy at her Tutu Camp. The teacher said, "Everyone go to a pink dot against the wall!" Daisy was right in front of a pink dot, and closer to the wall than a lot of the other girls, but she moved so slowly and so tentatively that she didn't get a dot. Other girls squeezed in behind her, pushed her aside, etc. And she moved so slowly and like she was giving it so much thought that she couldn't get to another dot. Later the teacher told her to go over and say goodbye to me, and she did, but she was jumping out of her skin with anxiety to get back to the wall, repeatedly saying, “I need to get back before I lose my space!”
I have seen this paradigm with Daisy time and time again. If any kind of line forms, she is always last. And by always, I mean always. I don’t even know that I would have a problem with this, but it clearly bothers her and makes her somewhat anxious and cranky.

The worst time was when I saw her trying to play Tag with a few friends. She couldn’t tag any of them, so she was perpetually “It.” The problems were manifold: she moved slowly, she stood thinking for too long, and when another girl came within range of her, she reached out too weakly and tentatively to tag her. One of her kind friends eventually allowed herself to be tagged so that Daisy could stop being It, but another girl kind of had fun with her—deliberately running close, then gleefully swooping away, confident in her utter safeness from being tagged by Daisy.

The whole thing was painful for me, and it was difficult to separate my own pain from what Daisy might be feeling. She clearly grew frustrated with being It, but she wanted to continue playing--that was a bright side. All in all, I am sure I was more upset than she was. But I have to say I dread the years to come, the things she's going to have to face unless something changes (which I can't imagine it will, at least not by very much). It's not that I want her to be aggressive; I would just like her not to be last every time and not to perpetually experience being trampled by other kids.

Yeah, I know... no one ever said this parenting thing would be easy.

Some Daisy Tidbits

2011-04-24T23:07:00.000-07:00

I am too tired to shape this into an actual post with a narrative, so without further ado... here are some Daisy quotes from the last few days:

1) “Whoa! My elbows are really pointy!”
2) “How old do you have to be to lift a car?”

3) A recent dialogue with Daisy:

Daisy: If I eat healthy foods, I will never pass away.
Me: It’s true that if you eat healthy foods, you may live longer.
Daisy: Noooo; if you eat healthy foods, you will live _forever_.
Me: Uhhhh….

4)Last but not least, Daisy has been saying her princess and the pea doll has "the diabetes." Today she lectured her doll severely about "the diabetes," saying she could never eat anything sweet again and that she would have to eat "macaroni" instead of candy on Easter. She told the doll she could never get better and that this was a particularly severe form of diabetes called "scarlet diabetes." (I am sure she is getting this from her memorable bout with scarlet fever, which she always makes sure to tell people about).

Daisy has a game with the doll in which she hits the doll in the face with a plastic stick. Explanation: “I’m giving her medicine. She has diabetes. She catched it from Nana, Gommy, and our cat Kerouac. I’m making sure her bones are soft and have lots of energy.”

Daisy-ism of the Day

2011-04-22T19:12:00.000-07:00

Apropos of nothing and stated most emphatically: "I really don't like the number 8 being even. I really wish it were odd."

More Daisy dancing

2011-04-04T11:22:00.000-07:00

At the Starry Plough, Berkeley, 4/3/11--the Gold Diggers

Daisy dancing to the GoldDiggers at the Starry Plough

2011-04-04T10:19:00.001-07:00

I am very lucky

2011-04-04T09:38:00.000-07:00

I don't always know it or act like it, but I am. I have the most wonderful daughter in the world. She cheers me up from the worst of moods, or just from the "blah" state I someimes find myself in. Mondays are always somewhat tough mornings, since we're back to school after the weekend and getting ourselves together, plus there's a lot of stuff to remember to bring to school on Monday mornings (Daisy's nap sack and her share day item, plus lunch, water, sunhat, sunscreen), but Daisy made me so happy this morning. As we were walking toward the school, she spotted her friend Gigi across the street, waved happily, and said to me, "Gigi and I are lucky because we both have great moms." Then, when I was saying goodbye to her at school, she said out of the blue, "Mom, I hope you have a really fun day."

I don't even know how to tell you how delightful she is.

Daisy sightings in Ghirardelli Square

2011-03-19T17:32:00.000-07:00

A few months ago Daisy did a photo shoot for the Fairmont Residences in Ghirardelli Square. It was a fun experience and some beautiful black-and-white photos came out, in a brochure and in several signs in Ghirardelli Square. Well, to be precise, there have been two signs up in Ghirardelli Square and one massive banner my friend Kristina spotted (she has a store in Ghirardelli Square, and it's a good thing she saw it or I might never have). Here are some pictures.

Gommy asked me to post this

2011-02-22T23:17:00.000-08:00

Today Daisy told us what "debonair," "aquatic," and "radiant" mean. All the definitions were correct, but you should know that she learned them from TV.

Daisy's rule-following phase

2011-02-16T09:05:00.001-08:00

At least, I hope it is a phase. Daisy is obsessed with rules right now and very strict about making sure we all follow them to the letter. And she has no sense of the "spirit of the law," JUST the letter. The other day at her preschool park play, a sweet little boy picked a daisy and gave it to her. Know what my daughter did in response? She reported him to the teacher for breaking one of the park play rules (picking a living thing). Nice, huh?

Then, a night or two ago, I made the mistake of telling her that I was planning to sneak a couple organic gummy bears into her lunch. You see, the school says the kids are not supposed to have any sweets in their lunches. But on a little impulse, I thought I'd put a couple of those Annie's organic gummy bunnies into a tupperware along with her raisins and crackers as a fun surprise. Then I mentioned it to her--"Guess what I am going to sneak into your lunch tomorrow?" I should have known better. She was outraged that I planned to break her school's rules so egregiously and insisted that I remove them immediately.

But that was not all! The beloved child informed me this morning--I'd like to say with some regret in her voice--that she had had to report me to several teachers at her school for having INTENDED to put gummy bears in her lunch. Aughhh! How am I going to teach this child to be more judicious about the rules she follows? Such problems.

I know she does not get this quality from me. I don't know where she gets it from, but Mark and I have discussed that he is more like that (extremely rule-following and nervous about breaking what sometimes seem to me like meaningless rules not worth following). And yet... I don't know. Even that doesn't satisfy me as an explanation. So I'm hoping it's just a developmental phase. Certainly, even though she's smart, she doesn't have the cognitive complexity to weigh rules and their intentions and contexts and decide which ones are worth following, to what extent, under what circumstances... hopefully, that will come with time.

Daisy's thoughts on life after death

2011-02-07T16:23:00.000-08:00

This is not a topic we have broached with Daisy, but she brought it up herself a couple nights ago and shared what she believes. She told us she believes people can come back from the dead "on one condition" (an expression she must have learned recently): men come back as women, women come back as men, boys come back as girls, girls come back as boys, cats come back as dogs, and dogs come back as cats. (She listed all of these.) She said that each one would know how the other one feels.

????!!!! Sometimes I can't believe she is four. She is so eccentric, thoughtful, and funny!

Daisy and friends

2011-02-06T12:43:00.001-08:00

Here are some pics from Feb. 4, 2011... Daisy with Henry and Kayla in the Presidio near the Lombard gate, then eating pizza, then exploring the Palace of Fine Arts after dark and getting a behind-the-scenes glimpse of the Exploratorium from Henry's dad, Charles!

Daisy interrogates the logic behind The Princess and the Pea

2011-01-24T17:51:00.000-08:00

Daisy: Why does sleeping terribly at night make someone a real princess?

Mama: Because it shows she could feel the pea through twenty mattresses.

Daisy: Maybe she just couldn't find a comfortable position. Maybe she never felt the pea at all.

Mama: What a good point! [Isn't it?]

Daisy's first ballet recital

2011-01-23T11:24:00.001-08:00

The best part is at 35 seconds. Daisy's hula moves are awesome. (Oh--and for those who may not be sure, Daisy is wearing the light blue leotard and the swan tiara in the second row.)

My daughter is actually napping... in her bed

2011-01-02T15:47:00.000-08:00

I really don't believe it. It has been a year, at least--maybe more??--since this occurred. She was awake when we got home from the zoo, but tired, asked to go to her bed, and is now SLEEPING IN IT. It is not to be believed.

Regretfully, I did not bring my camera today, but we had a great one so I'm writing a blog post abou it--especially in the hopes that my mom will read it, since it was her idea! We took Daisy to the zoo today specifically to do the rainforest maze that is up till Jan. 18. Daisy LOVED the rainforest maze and went through it four times. She would have gone more times, too, if we had had the stamina to keep going. What a fabulous zoo day. Hardly anyone was there, because apparently San Franciscans are terrified of a rain forecast... let me tell you, it did not rain. Maybe a couple drops at most. It turned out that today was the last day they are running the Puffer Train, as it's going to be out for maintenance work till February, so they were calling people over and giving free rides. That train is usually four dollars per person, including kids, so this was a great deal! Daisy wanted to keep riding, and they were trying to run down their fuel, so they just kept going and going... we must have ridden ten times.

After that we did the rainforest maze, and then we had lunch and went on the carousel numerous times (still one of Daisy's favorite things to do). We checked out animals in between, and Daisy made special "explorer" notes of each one she saw.

Several cute things... well, first of all, she told me and Mark we are the best parents in the world, haha. She also said at lunch, "Something is missing from this day," and when I prompted her to tell me what it was, she said, "A hug" and gave me a huge hug. Now, c'mon... that is just adorable.

Other cute thing: at lunch she was asking us about all our ethnic and religious backgrounds, and we were telling her about all of them--Mommy being Eastern European Jewish and Irish/Western European, Daddy being Assyrian and all different kinds of Western and Eastern European things, and being raised Catholic. I told her when she got older she could decide if she was interested in a religion and pick the one she wanted, and she said confidently, "I have already picked." What, we asked? The answer was "British."

This is kind of funny because earlier she was telling me and Mark not to do British accents, and she reiterated that people who are not British should NOT do British accents. But apparently, "British" is her religion.

My strange 4-year-old

2010-12-28T13:09:00.000-08:00

1. She is slow. I don't mean slow-witted, I mean slooooooowwww. She walks sooooo slooooowwwwly. She seems to be observing everything around her and in absolutely no hurry, ever. I must be the only mother in the world who has to urge her child, "Come on! Hurry up! Walk faster!" My mom calls her "A stop-and-smell-the-roses kind of gal," and that is the perfect decription.

2. Today she said to me (and I am not making this up), "I like waiting." This was while we were standing in an extremely long line at Safeway, such a long and irritating line that I was getting impatient.

3. She also absolutely refused to eat the peanut butter cup I offered her as we were waiting until I had paid for it. I kept trying to explain to her that we were going to be waiting a long time, and I would pay as soon as we go to the front of the line, but she would not eat it-- even though I had already handed it to her. So she sat there, holding this melting peanut butter cup, for TEN MINUTES and did not take a bite until I paid for it. These are clearly her father's genes at work, not mine!

4. Along the same lines, I was reaching for my cell phone today as I was driving home and she said to me from the back seat, "Better not do that. You'll get another ticket."

5. She is so sensitive that her eyes well up with tears whenever we read anything remotely sad, like (in a book we read recently) a mother waving goodbye to her son and saying something like, "I'll see you later." THAT was so sad that she instructed me to "read it in a whisper." That cracks me up-- she often tells me to read sad parts in a quiet voice, as though that will make them less sad.

6. At the same time as she is this sensitive, delicate soul, she loves jumping all over the place, performing and making a spectacle of herself (hmmm, father's genes again?). Yesterday she asked us, "Am I famous?" I tried some equivocating answer about how she is famous to her family and friends, but she immediately followed up with, "Am I very famous?"

Daisy teaches Daddy Bruce Dickinson a preschool song

2010-12-20T22:50:00.001-08:00

Sensitivity

2010-12-12T09:55:00.000-08:00

Okay... I remember being a very sensitive child, and Mark was, too. But I think (and maybe my memory is just confused) that a lot of it came up later than it's coming up for Daisy. I just can't believe what she seems to be going through right now, at 4.

Yesterday, as I wrote about before, she had a hard time leaving the Dickens Fair and it truly seemed like an existential crisis related to the concept of endings. I think she knew she was tired and it was time to go, but her eyes kept filling with tears and she said, "Mama, every time I say 'it's time to go,' I feel so sad and I want to stay." Knowing that something is over and will never come again in the exact same form seemed extremely painful-- and she was not comforted by the idea that the Dickens Fair is every year and we can always go back. She was sobbing and sobbing. As Mark pointed out, tiredness was part of it-- definitely. But not all of it.

Then, that night, another huge crisis. It started out with her yelling from the bedroom that she doesn't want things to change and become "more different." She has been doing this from time to time lately, so it didn't come as a complete surprise. She was saying, "I don't ever want to move" and "I don't want my bedroom to change." All the assurances in the world that we're not planning to move or change her room don't seem to help. I went to check on her and she was sitting up in bed, trying not to cry. That didn't work out so well, and she ended up crying on and off until 12:30 (!!!!!), when she finally went to sleep. The thoughts and feelings she was expressing seemed beyond where a 4-year-old would be, although what do I know. She repeatedly asked me if things were going to change, and asked me if I had given away her baby toys. (This is kind of funny: when I told her we could save her baby toys and maybe she could give them to her own baby someday, she tearfully explained that she is not going to "get a baby," because "it is hard work and it might hurt me when it came out.")

She kept saying that her mind goes to "sad things" at night, even though she tries not to think about them, and she was weeping and weeping. It reminded me of the way I was around eight-- when I started obsessing about death and realizing that my parents were going to die someday (and so was I). I know Daisy isn't really there yet, but this period definitely seems like the precursor. I guess I do remember starting to get very interested in death around five, although not in the same way it manifested at eight. Maybe it's not so odd for a 4-year-old to be having these thoughts and feelings. I don't know. Something must be changing for her cognitively, and she's getting new and deeper thoughts and feelings that she doesn't quite know how to deal with. One thing is certain: she is a sensitive soul.

Pictures of the Dickens Fair

2010-12-11T20:51:00.000-08:00

...the description of the day is the next entry. I am frustrated by the fact that when I try to post captions under photos, they come out all messed up... not in the place I'm intending to put them. That didn't used to happen, so I don't know what's up with Blogger's technology. So all I can do is post pictures without captions. They show: Christmasy Daisy; Daisy on her way to the Cow Palace; the Mother Goose and acrobats show we watched; Daisy going on the Wild Safari ride; people in period costume and some of the exteriors of the shops; a woman pushing an old-fashioned baby carriage, complete with a real baby inside dressed in a frilly bonnet and nightgown; the musical trio we watched and the look of rapt attention on Daisy's face when she listens to music (mixed with some fudge smeared on her face); and Gerald's book store!

Dickens Fair

2010-12-11T20:32:00.000-08:00

We took Daisy to the Dickens Fair at the Cow Palace today. Neither Mark nor I had ever been, but this year we wanted to visit our friend Gerald who has a book store there-- he is the dad of Daisy's cute little friend Jeremy from ballet class. Gerald kindly arranged for us to have discounted tickets, which was a good thing 'cause the Dickens Fair ain't cheap. We went, and I have to say it was really fun. I was a little apprehensive going in when I realized (duhhhh) that many people were in period costume and speaking nineteenth-century-ishly to each other (which mostly seemed to consist of greetings like, "Hail fellow well met!" and addressing all females as "dears"). It is not that I had any judgmental thoughts, but I have never participated in anything like Society for Creative Anachronism or anything like that that would have made this experience seem more familiar. I have never even been to a Renaissance Fair. So...yeah. I have to admit that I was hoping to slide under the radar and not get into fake nineteenth-century conversations with the people in costumes. But it was fun! It was like wandering around in a Dickensian London, complete with people with black eyes and coal smeared all over their faces. It wasn't so pretty in Dickens's London, people.

Daisy immediately wanted to eat, so we bought her some spaghetti and meatballs--and I had to rub the tomato sauce off every single meatball. (Aha! That's a flaw of Daisy's; she is a SUPER picky eater). We watched a troupe acting out Mother Goose's nursery rhymes and some acrobats/circus performers. Then Daisy went on an old-fashioned, hand-cranked carousel called the Wild Safari. She rode on a giraffe. Everything looked appropriate to the time period. The best part was that the guy cranking the carousel told a story to the kids during the ride and gave them directions on how to act things out-- for example, at one point he started beating a drum and telling them they were pursued by wild animals and had to flap their arms and fly away. And Daisy was the ONLY CHILD who followed his instructions and acted things out. Hilarious. She is just so into story-telling and acting right now. Her eyes were glued to his face with rapt attention, while I think the other kids were mostly tuning him out and going, "Wheeee!"

After that we bought Daisy fudge at a candy store, which turned out to be the messiest treat ever. She has fudge smeared all over her face in most of my pictures. She loved the music; we watched a trio of performers doing sea shanties and Irish folk songs, and again with the rapt attention from Daisy (music, stories, and performance equal Daisy's three loves right now). We visited Gerald in his book store, which was very, very cool. If I had had money I would definitely have bought a beautiful old print of one of my favorite novels or a book of poetry. Around this time, though, Daisy started this strange new behavior she's been exhibiting lately: getting emotional without much of a cue that I can detect and then being inconsolable. She burst into tears at the idea that we were going to go home soon, and she kept saying that the idea of an ending was just too sad for her. I swear to God that girl is having premature existential crises. It sounds weird, but that is what these crying spells are like. They aren't like tantrums, if you can imagine a kid throwing a fit because he or she is having fun and his parents drag him away from the fun. No. It's more like she's getting tired, and realizes that it's time to go home, but gets overcome by grief and mourning because there will never be another time exactly like this one and it's coming to an end now. Believe me--she manages to convey these things. She is an old soul.

I had my own weird existential moment, too. At the exact moment Daisy started bursting into tears, I saw an old friend of mine-- a friend who dumped me months ago in none too kind a way after many years of friendship, mainly because I was too busy to spend the amount of time with her she wanted (which has a lot to do with me being a mom, of course). So there I was trying to help Daisy in this big crowd of people, and suddenly I see her. She doesn't live around here, but this is exactly the kind of thing she'd be into. It was crazy--I don't think she saw me. She had a big grin on her face like she was having the time of her life and she was alone. She kept walking in my direction, stopping, turning around, heading another way, then coming back, and finally she left. I held my breath the entire time, as the last thing I needed was to get some kind of awful treatment from her right at the moment that Daisy was having a breakdown. It was surreal.

A Few Convos with Daisy Today

2010-12-11T19:21:00.000-08:00

1. "Mommy, why do people always tell me I am cute and not that I am good? It is better to be good than cute."

2. "Mama, is it nice to crucify people?" (This was in response to my explanation of "The Ballad of John and Yoko," Daisy's new favorite song... she was asking me a million probing questions and I was trying to explain it.)

3. "Maybe I am proof-wet." (After touching my hair and noticing that her hand didn't get wet.)

4. "Mom! Dad! I want things to stay the same, but they keep getting more different." (This was yelled from bed, while she's trying to get to sleep. She has been yelling things of this nature from the bedroom for a few weeks now. I think when she's trying to sleep, that's when she gets her anxious philosophical thoughts. Reminds me soooooo much of me, but quite a bit younger than when all my existential angst started, which I remember as being around eight.)

Oh dear...

2010-12-10T21:48:00.001-08:00

My heart is brimming with love. Is it normal to be this fond of one's own kid? I have almost no complaints about her. The ones I do have are negligible... like, she walks slowly. She dawdles and smells the roses, so if you are in a hurry, she's not the best person to be with. I have a hard time thinking of other complaints, and that wasn't even a real one. She is such a great companion, in a good mood all day long, and it was a long (though fun) day. She is so mature. We picked her up at school, took her out to lunch, took her to the ballet; she was good in the first act, good during intermission, and good during the second act. Oh, and good all the way home. By "good" I mean cheerful, up for anything, chatty, and adaptable. She is so much fun. And she was exactly the same way last year, when she was only three, and we did all the same things. Oh, God. I can't be this lucky. Please please please don't let anything bad happen to her.
PS Pictures of our day are in the next entry

Nutcracker!

2010-12-10T21:23:00.001-08:00

We repeated our one-year-old tradition of taking Daisy to the SF Ballet's Nutcracker this year. Here are some pictures-- Daisy wanted to do a lot of the same things, so it's a bit of a blast from the past. The main difference? The fake smile she has learned to put on in the interim between age 3 and age 4. Sigh. As usual, she was attentive and well-behaved at the ballet, whispering relevant questions. Like last year, she hid her head on my shoulder when Fritz breaks the nutcracker because that part upsets her-- but she acknowledged that it wasn't so bad this time. Oh, and she sat in her own seat the entire time! (Last year she sat on my lap.) She seems like such a big, grown-up girl to her adoring mama. PS--Some of the smiles are not at all fake, and I guess it's fair to say that even the big fake-o ones are not ALL fake because she was in such a happy mood... but you can easily tell which is which!

Daisy is quirky

2010-12-03T17:13:00.000-08:00

This evening we had a pizza night at Giorgio's. Daisy entertained herself at the table by arranging the salt and pepper shakers, the parmesan cheese shaker and the red pepper flake shaker in various formations as a family and pretending to take pictures of them with her napkin, which she said was a camera. She gave them all identities--Dad, Mom, brother, sister. At one point she removed the parmesan shaker, saying sadly, "Sorry, Dad. You are giving a fake smile. You can't be in the picture."

Children are smarter than I am

2010-12-03T17:08:00.000-08:00

1) Daisy walks slooowwwwwwly down the street, and I mean REALLY slowly. My mom calls her a "stop and smell the roses kind of gal." Today she was particularly slow because she was walking in these intricate patterns following the markings of the sidewalk, and I was getting a tad impatient because I was cold and wanted to get where we were going.

Me (to Mark, mumbling under my breath, thinking there was no way she could hear me): Daisy is the slowest thing on the planet.

Daisy (clear and articulate): No, I am not the slowest thing on the planet. A snail is the slowest thing on the planet.

2) I did Park Play today at Daisy's preschool, which involves riding with the kids on the schoolbus to a playground. The kids always beg me to tell a story, and today they wanted "The Billy Goats Gruff." So I told the story, but at the end--to try to make it a little more benign--I did not say the troll was killed. Instead, I said "he fell into the river and floated away."

Maren (cute little girl from Daisy's school): No, a shark ate him. Otherwise he would just float away, end up under some other bridge, and bother more billy goats.

I just thought she was awfully clever to point out the flaw in my superficially cheerful ending. It WAS flawed.

Haha

2010-11-29T20:27:00.001-08:00

Daisy announces her age (4), then climbs on a footstool and asks in a tone that suggests she's cleverly outsmarted us: "How old am I now?"

Most gratifying quote from Thanksgiving

2010-11-28T19:03:00.001-08:00

Daisy actually said to me, "Mom, I never knew mashed potatoes could taste this good."

She also told me I was the best cook in the world. Bwahahahah.

"I like him, but I'm not sure if he likes me."

2010-11-28T16:56:00.001-08:00

This was said to me today by my FOUR-YEAR-OLD. She has been talking incessantly about this particular FOUR-YEAR-OLD boy for about two months, focusing in on the minutiae of what he says and does around her, analyzing it (yes, analyzing it in her four-year-old way) and always drawing the most dire conclusions about how he feels about her.

Aaaaaaaaaa! I thought I had another ten years before dealing with this crap!

Daisy helped me with Thanksgiving...

2010-11-24T18:34:00.000-08:00

...by ripping up pieces of bread and putting them into a bowl. But mostly she carried on, singing crazy songs and doing crazy dances and knocking pieces of bread to the floor.

Me: Daisy, remember I need you to be my helper right now.

Daisy: Well, Mama, I am just trying to make you laugh.

Me: That's great, but mostly I need you to rip up the pieces of bread, not be a comedian.

Daisy (after a pause): A chameleon can change colors. Chameleons turn pink to blend in with the sunset.

Most flattering thing to have happened to me in years

2010-11-21T18:54:00.001-08:00

I was at Mark's 40th birthday show, sitting and listening to an all-girl punk band called Turbonegra. I'm pretty sure the song they were singing was called "Erection" (or at least it involved many repetitions of that word). An extremely drunk man stumbled up to me, giving me the devil-horns sign. I gave it back to him. He grinned widely at me, then mumbled, "No, I'm not getting in any trouble tonight," and stumbled drunkenly away. I am pretty sure he thought that that sentence occurred *inside* his head.

Daisy's quotes of the morning

2010-10-25T12:47:00.000-07:00

1. This was in response to my telling her that I am visiting an all-girls kindegarten this morning as one potential school for her.

Daisy (nonjudgmentally): Does that mean no one will be pretending to shoot each other with guns?

She then proudly told her preschool teacher, when I was dropping her off, that she would be attending this (elite, hard-to-get-into, seemingly out of our reach) school next year. Sigh.

2. Daisy asked me what electricity was. Following my rather jumbled answer, she said: "Mama, I don't think I need 'lectricity. I need bones."

3. As we were approaching the school we were passed by a very cute little boy who is also in Daisy's room and his mother. Daisy told me, "[This boy] is my friend and also Gigi's." She then added in a loud stage whisper, as though this were top-secret information, "DO YOU KNOW WHY GIGI LIKES HIM SO MUCH? BECAUSE HE IS VERY SILLY."

Goblin Jamboree

2010-10-16T22:29:00.000-07:00

Never was there a day to be so disappointed at not having a camera! What made it worse was that I did bring my camera, only to discover it was out of batteries. GRRRR. So my verbal report will have to suffice. Took Daisy and Henry to the Discovery Museum for the Halloween Goblin Jamboree and it was the most fun day ever. The preliminary count is:

--4 train rides
--1 pony ride
--1 round at the petting zoo
--2 trips to witch school, three magic potions concocted
--3 visits to the jumpy house
--1 pumpkin ride
--facepainting, games, prizes, popcorn, one attempt at the Haunted House (but Daisy was too afraid to go in), brief sightings of cousins James, Anya, and Kiki... and I am sure I am forgetting something. We were there for four and a half hours and I am quite sure these kids could have closed down the place if I hadn't had to go.

The only bummer is that I seem to be sicker than ever this evening. It has been two weeks. Some days I think I am getting better, and then I have another night where I can't breathe and my throat swells shut. At the moment I am almost laryngitic, and the pain is awful in my throat and sinuses. Last night I got a terrible stomachache in the middle of the night which I think had to be caused by drinking too much cough medicine with codeine. I drank a glass of milk, and the pain went away, although not immediately.

It was worth it, though. Such a delightful day, and such sweet little friends! I really wish I had pictures.

October 12 is reading day!

2010-10-13T18:43:00.001-07:00

I am posting this so I won't forget: Daisy's preschool teacher, Giuliana, told us to mark the date of Oct. 12 as the date Daisy is officially reading! Apparently she has been reading a little book they have at school for this purpose. I have noticed some reading at home, too; Daisy can read most of a book we have called Big and Little. But I am happy to call it as Oct. 12, since that is the day the teachers pegged it. Daisy is four years and almost three months. My mother tells me I was reading well before that, at three and a half, but I am proud of my girl for getting there at four!

I have been feeling pretty wretched lately. I got sick over a week ago, on Monday of last week, and forced myself to continue through my week, attending my job and my classes, my trainings and my supervisions. Then I thought I was getting better toward the end of last week, but suddenly I felt worse than ever. My throat and lymph nodes are super swollen and painful. I went to the doctor this morning and she ran a strep test, the results of which I get tomorrow. It was hard forcing myself to cancel my day and just stay home, despite the fact that the doctor told me I wouldn't get better if I keep going like this. I hated having to cancel my appointments with clients at the clinic, and I am worried that this will somehow give leverage to my group supervisor, who doesn't like me and has been giving me a bad time at group supervision each week. I really hate potentially giving her anything to pick on me about, and I had to miss her training today plus cancel my clinic clients.

This has been a terribly hard time.

Busy

2010-08-28T22:16:00.001-07:00

We have been so busy lately, and of course, I have no pictures. I really need to try to improve on that front. Nevertheless, here are some of our doings.

On Friday I got up bright and early and took Daisy to the YMCA childwatch with Eli so Robyn and I could exercise. To my shock, I was told that Daisy had USED UP her childwatch spaces and I have to buy a new card. Can you imagine? I would not have thought it possible for me to run out of childwatch hours. My last foray into childwatch, when Daisy was a baby, ended in complete failure as I could not bear walking away from her when she was crying, and then when I returned, there was always something that depressed me. One time she had fallen asleep, which was horrifying because it was not a time of day she EVER napped and so I knew that unconsciousness had come along to rescue her from the existential pain of Mama's absence. So: that's right, I was too neurotic for childwatch. This time around it is MUCH BETTER.

After that I ran home and took a shower and packed our bags, and then we met Dena and Henry. We took two Presidio shuttles to get downtown, walked to the Ferry Building, had a lovely lunch, and then took the ferry to Larkspur--Daisy's first ferry ride, and Henry's too! The kids were cold (we sat on the deck) but Daisy enjoyed making up a story about pirates. We walked around Larkspur Landing for an hour--the kids enjoyed running over the footbridge and then they spent a large amount of time demonstrating exercises to us on a bicycle rack--and then we took the ferry home. We bought the kids gelatos at the Ferry Building and were very impressed by their choices: Henry chose pear and Daisy chose coconut gelato. Then two shuttles back to Dena's. Daisy was so tired that night I have never seen her fall asleep faster, and I was proud of her that she did the whole outing without a stroller.

Today we took Daisy to her ballet class and then afterward drove to the Santa Cruz Boardwalk, where we met Craig, Beth, Cora, and Craig's sister Linda. I hadn't realized how extensive the boardwalk is, and Daisy did a ton of walking there, too. It was crowded and overwhelming, of course, but completely worth it to see Daisy's joy on the rides. We couldn't stay very long because Mark had a show that night (that's where he is right now), but Daisy got to go on six rides. She rode the helicopters twice (fun because you pull a bar to make your 'copter go up and down), then a boat ride with Cora, then a cave train that Craig and I went on with them, then two killer whale rides with Cora. She would have liked to stay and go on more rides, and there were plenty of rides for kids her age-- so we will have to go back. I had to bribe her into leaving with a cherry Icee, but the bribe was highly effective.

It is funny to watch Daisy's face on rides. Some kids look kind of terrified, and others have faces of pure glee, but Daisy's expression tends to look like intense concentration-- like she is getting something very profound out of the experience.

Daisy has grown sooooooo much this summer. I did many, many (MANY) activities with her even though I was in classes myself for almost all of the summer (pausing to take a humble bow). We did music class, swimming class, Jazzy Bugs class (where she did ballet, tap, and gymnastics), ballet, and two different summer camps--and I am probably forgetting something. Lest you think I was being a pushy mama, these were all classes she chose for herself and loved. The dancing and gymnastics classes have helped her to improve her motor skills immensely and we're hoping her teachers will see the difference when we return to school. She is so much more physically confident now, ending the summer, than she was when it began.

She's also being through some emotional and cognitive growth. She went through about a month of telling us every day, at least fifty times a day, that she had "a crying feeling." That phase seems over, although she still mentions it from time to time. She has also been asking unbelievably profound questions and saying mind-bendingly odd and deep things. As an example, she sometimes tells us that her "mind wants to do something," but her "self" doesn't or thinks otherwise. She presents this to us as a problem or conflict she is working on. I know it sounds like an odd distinction, but it strikes me as possibly the beginning of double consciousness or meta-cognition. Oh, and today on the drive back from Santa Cruz, she asked us to define "fatalism"! Mark gave her a definition and now she parrots it back when asked. It is pretty funny.

Her verbal skills have always been insanely advanced, but every now and then she manages to astound me, even knowing what I know about her. A couple days ago, for example, she sang the entire song "Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer" to me, word for word, with accompanying dance moves (and in a faux Cockney accent). Let me assure you that song is not easy, and I am certain she does not understand what large chunks of it mean ("they were plausible fellows who liked to engage a friendly policeman in conversation"?), but she pronounced almost every word correctly and precisely.

I really think she is a weird prodigy in certain areas, or at the very least has some savant-like tendencies. When I was her age, I could read and write (because my mother taught me, that hard-working woman), but Daisy is so much more...outward, and extroverted, than I was. She really puts out a startling volume of coherent and sophisticated speech. It can be easy to forget you are talking to a newly minted four-year-old when she informs you severely, "I really think you are misunderstanding me," in response to some injunction you've given her. She is also quite good at math and can do some pretty challenging addition and subtraction in her head (and today she counted to 100 in the car with almost no mistakes--pretty impressive). But at the same time, she struggles with motor tasks that would be laughably easy for a child a year younger and sometimes she seems lacking in common sense, as in her deplorable lack of both hiding and finding skills in hide and seek.

That's a bit of an update. I am so very grateful she is my daughter and is in my life. It makes me feel almost religious sometimes.

Things Daisy has said today

2010-08-22T19:59:00.001-07:00

"What a great day for meeting Jesus and buying rainbow sweatshirts!" (as part of a crazy game of make-believe she made up)

"Let's go eat strawberry ice cream at the barber shop!" (As part of the same game)

"This pizza is hopeless! Hopeless, hopeless, hopeless!" (After taking one bite of the pizza she and Gommy made together earlier)

Daisy's game that warms the cockles of Mama's heart

2010-08-19T20:30:00.000-07:00

Daisy invented a game recently that is ever so sweet and heart-warming to a Mama. It involves a little wooden sign that a friend gave us when she was first born--it says "World's Best Mama" and it has a little string by which it can hang from a door. I had it hanging on Daisy's door, and one morning when she got out of bed I heard her declaring that the sign was on the wrong door--really, it should be on my door. So she moved it.

Now, she loves to play a game where she re-enacts this fateful decision. The script is entirely of her making. She tells me to lie in bed and pretend I'm sleeping. Then I'm supposed to moan and groan about the fact that there is no sign on my door, while all the lucky mothers out there have "World's Best Mama" signs on THEIR doors. Then Daisy quickly bustles over to the door and I'm supposed to say things like, "Ooh, whatever could Daisy be doing?" Then she steps proudly back, and ta-da! My door has a "World's Best Mama" sign on it. Then she gives me a big hug.

She wanted to play this game 10,000 times today. Sometimes I get a bit frustrated with the repetition, but it's kind of hard to get too frustrated about this particular game.

PS
Another cute Daisy activity that has recently come up: putting her arms around my neck and "smushing" our faces together (that's what she calls it). I have been getting a lot of this lately. Come to think of it, she has also been having a hard time sharing me with others and telling me how much she loves me. I wonder if this is not merely heartwarming, but if she is going through some kind of phase? Could be, especially as school is about to start again soon.

I left my house after dark recently

2010-08-17T13:21:00.000-07:00

I thought this occasion deserved a post. That's right, folks: you are not mistaken. I left my house at night, at practically TEN PM, and Daisy was not with me. I thought I was not going to make it--it was so very, very late for Mother Sarah. I was also nervous about being in a bar/club atmosphere again, as I was accompanying Mark to his Iron Maiden show, and it's been, maybe, years since I've been in a place like that. I used to go with Mark all the time, before we had a child, and I was pretty used to it. But it's been awhile and I've forgotten how to be in such a place. Wouldn't you know, though, I had a great time! Mark's Iron Maiden band, Ancient Mariner, is completely awesome. I loved them. I want to go again. I want to venture out after dark. I want to hear Mark's bands play again. Maybe I even want to hear bands that Mark is not in play. Not sure, but maybe.

Daisy was so surprised to see me all dressed up, wearing a dress and lipstick and earrings. She complimented me several times unbidden, saying, "Mama looks so pretty!" and saying she wants to dress up like Mama. So completely gratifying to hear that from my daughter!

When I was younger and I went with Mark to his shows, I sometimes had too much to drink as a way of coping with the discomfort of being in places where I wasn't entirely in my element. This time, of course, I didn't, and I realized I don't need a lot of drinks to survive. I also thought I needed earplugs, but I hadn't brought any (maybe a good idea for next time), and I was fine without them. I am glad some of Mark's friends came so I had people to sit with; that made it more comfortable, too.

Over the years I have come to appreciate a lot of the music that Mark likes and performs, and I especially like Iron Maiden and Judas Priest (I have to admit I like them more than KISS and Motley Crue, two of the other bands whose music he performs). I didn't know many of the songs before the show, but I think I know them now.

I realized I need to do this sort of thing more precisely because it felt so strange to be out on my own without Daisy. I think I have a bit forgotten how to be on my own without my constant shadow and appendage. Somehow, even when I'm at school attending my classes, I still feel attached to her-- maybe because a lot of what I'm learning at school applies to parenting. This was something completely different, something which calls on a side of my identity that has nothing whatsoever to do with being a mother. And it feels really alien now. But good. Yeah. I think I need more of it. And I think I can be in these places now in a healthy, non-insane way, even if insane things happen from time to time at them. Well, we'll see.

Boodat

2010-08-17T13:15:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure if I may have posted about this already, but Daisy has invented two words: "slat" and "boodat." Actually, she has invented more words than that, but those two are the ones that have found their way into common usage in our family. I remember reading somewhere that it's actually very difficult to create words that become keepers--that stick. I mean, anyone can make up any word, but the chances are slim that it's going to stick in the right place and become a used word. Well, I've got to tell you folks: "boodat" is a keeper. I give Daisy a ton of credit for it. Mark and I use it ALL THE TIME. It's just so right. It means "bad," loosely speaking. So you can curse with it: "Boodat!" Or say, "Damn, that's boodat!" And it really feels GOOD to say it. "Slat" is the opposite of "boodat," so it means "good." It's not quite as satisfying to say, but it has stuck as well.

The story of how "boodat" came to be is a little embarrassing, but I'll tell it anyway. One day Daisy asked me, very gravely, "Is it okay to tell people that they smell bad?" I said no, it would probably not be a good idea. She then ventured, "Can I just tell you and Daddy that you smell bad?" She went on to explain that she thinks I smell like cheese and that Daddy smells like wood. I was not terribly hurt by this, especially since she has gone on to tell me that pretty much everyone she knows smells bad to her, and most of them smell like cheese. I made an agreement with her that she could tell me and Daddy this sort of thing, but she really should not tell anyone else that they smell bad.

She then ventured, "Gommy smells like boodat." I asked her what "boodat" meant. The answer, as you know, was baaaaaaad.

Daisy finally meets Barbie...

2010-07-31T21:44:00.000-07:00

...and it's like they've never been apart a day in their lives.

Shuh Uh

2010-07-25T21:48:00.000-07:00

Today I listened to Daisy talking to herself in the back of the car, saying repeatedly what sounded like, "Shuh...uh. Shuh...uh. Shuh uh."" Turns out she was experimenting with saying something totally off limits and verboten in a way that would somehow make it acceptable. I tried to explain to her that as long as people understand what you are saying (i.e., "Shut up"), it doesn't matter whether you enunicated the final consonants or not.

I should explain that Daisy has developed an enormous fervor for correcting us when we say a "bad word" and will shout across the room if she hears me say something that could even remotely be construed as a bad word--like, "Ask." She herself would be utterly horrified EVER to use a bad word, and don't ask me where she got this. It's not like Mark and I have been pounding the lesson into her at all. I did, though, tell her that the expression "shut up" is extremely rude. So she was experimenting with saying it without really saying it, and it was obvious that repeating "shuh uh" held some kind of tantalizing fascination for her.

Then she said, "How about, 'shut your mouth, please, I want to say something?'" I explained that, noooooo, that would be a highly unacceptable thing to say. I asked her where she had learned the expression "shut your mouth" and she said without missing a beat, "Harry Belafonte." Oh my dear Lord! That's right! I thought. That's a line from one of the songs on her Harry Belafonte albums, "Mama Look, A Boo Boo"... something like, "Shut your mouth! Go away! Mama, look at Boo Boo."

Daisy has a very literal-minded four-year-old's comprehension of "bad words." Although I've tried a bit to explain, she doesn't really grasp the concept that it's how you use the words, and the context, rather than the innate properties of a particular word that makes it "bad." So, for example, she thinks "hell" is a bad word and she always points it out on her CATS album when one of the cats sings, "Have you been an alumnus of heaven and hell?" It's difficult to explain to her how, in some contexts, it would be okay to say "hell." Same with other words, like "freak"... you don't call someone a freak, but you can say, "I'm freaking out." There's no explaining these complexities and ambiguities to Daisy, and she corrects us a thousand times a day. She is also constantly on the lookout for new "bad words" to be severe about, and will often ask with a very serious look, "Mom, was that a bad word?" She asked me today (with some hope, I think) if "dim" was a bad word after I used it.

CATS and Sensitivity

2010-07-11T21:21:00.000-07:00

Okay... so, Daisy is really starting to remind me of me and Mark, and I mean really REALLY. She always did, but lately it's scary. She is sensitive. She has started getting a "crying feeling" when she thinks about sad stories. Her eyes fill with tears when she thinks about sad parts of stories and she wipes her eyes, saying she is trying to "wipe away the feeling." And then she thinks of the same plot points days later and gets the crying feeling again. She is not even four yet and already such an empathizer. I don't mean to be melodramatic, but she strikes me as very attuned to aesthetic experiences. She truly feels for characters and is sensitive to music, even to pretty subtle shifts in the mood conveyed by different pieces. Sometimes after hearing a song just once she'll tell us about it days later--"I'm thinking about that song." She tells me about the things she's imagining while she hears favorite songs, too, and it's very sweet; often she's imagining that she and her friends are performing the music in various settings, or she's performing them with fictional characters she loves. And it seems that nothing gets past her. She remembers even minor moments in stories where a character feels sad or suffers even briefly, and will bring it up days later.

On a lighter note, today we (Mark, Gommy, and I) took her to a production of CATS and she loved it. She was rapt the entire time-- she knew almost all the songs and characters from the album. She asked me a million questions about the lyrics as the show went on (the shrewd girl always zooms in on the problematic lines--what is a fading rose? What does it mean that the street lamp dies? Who is that cat in all the black robes?) and she was nervous that the song "Memory" was going to make her sad. She had had the "crying feeling" as we sat in the audience waiting for the show to begin, as she reminisced about some sad parts of stories she's read, and then she asked me several times whether "Memory" was going to be happy or sad. I tried to explain "bittersweet" to her, but she kept insisting I pinpoint it as either happy or sad. Then, when it actually started, she said with great concern, "Is this a happy song?"

But she was fine, and her eyes were huge throughout the whole show. I wasn't entirely sure that would happen, since the show is longer than two hours, but it worked out well. Then, after the show, she got to meet some of the actors in the lobby, including her two faves. Macavity high-fived her and she had a pleasant exchange with Mr. Mistoffeles. Pictures!

Before CATS--getting ready

Dancing around before CATS

On our way to the show

Daisy and Dada at the show

After the show I bought her her favorite balloons--red ones

She cracks me up

2010-07-02T12:30:00.001-07:00

Today Daisy told me that she loved the word "sewer." She loves the SOUND of that word, independent of its meaning. She also loves the word "Liverpool" and the word "pantry." She does not love the word "water." All I can say is... she really reminds me of myself. When I was a kid I had words I loved and didn't love based purely on the sound, too.

She also told me she knows how to talk backwards and said several words backwards ("olleh" and "yliL").

Here are some choice Daisy quotes from today:

1) In response to my saying I will do squeaky character voices but only at home: "Let's say, for the sake of example, that we DID make voices in public."

2) In response to me blowing up some balloons for her: "Finally I got lucky!"

3)"I love these balloons. They are so delicate and smooth."

She also came up to me apropos of nothing and said, "I love you, Mommy." I never get tired of that.

Oh my God... Daisy is accompanying Mark on the kazoo while he sings the theme song of "Cailou" and it sounds great! That is just unbelievable. She has the tune down, the rhythm and everything. I will have to record that and Youtube it.

Update-y Post

2010-06-28T15:55:00.001-07:00

I haven't done one of these in a loooooong time. But I think I'll start an update now. Daisy is almost four! She will be four next month. Unbelievable. Here are some things she is doing and things about her.

--Daisy counted 100 beads yesterday! She counted accurately and said all the numbers perfectly until she got to eighty-nine. She needed help coming up with the word "ninety" and then counted perfectly again to ninety-nine, at which point I had to prompt her with the word "one hundred." Not too shabby. She is also pretty reliable at pointing out odd and even numbers and explaining why.

--Daisy is very interested in justice these days. She has been telling us that things are "not fair." So far this has not led to any big problems, just discussions of the concept of justice. This child is very, VERY cerebral. It's a little frightening sometimes. She is also now fascinated by the concept of "bad" words and constantly asks us whether this word or that word is "bad." Sometimes these words are made up, and other times so clearly not bad words that I have no idea where she's getting the idea (for example, she wanted to know if "drainpipes" and "sewer pipes" were bad word). She also corrects me and Mark constantly now if a word slips out that shouldn't, or even if she remotely suspects that we might have said one, and she is a harsh taskmistress. She insisted the other day that I had used a bad word, but she refused to tell me what it was because that would mean SHE would have to say it. I finally convinced her to tell me what it was, and she said with great mortification that it had been "ass." I am pretty sure I had not said "ass," so I think it must have been a syllable in another word I was using. But her mortification over having to use a "bad" word was amusing. We made an agreement that she can say these words if, as she puts it, she is "saying them for good, not bad."

--She talks more than anybody in the whole wide world. Seriously. With any activity she's doing, be it gymnastics, dance, or music class, she is the child saying, "Excuse me! Excuse me, teacher! I just noticed that..." And it goes on. Today she interrupted Seth, our beloved music teacher, during his farewell song to inform him that he had said goodbye to Dylan twice.

--She is so mentally alert and sharp. She memorizes her books still and can correct my reading of them on a minute level--say, I've forgotten an article (like "a" or "the") or I say something in the singular when it should be in the plural. Sometimes when I'm reading to hear at night and I'm tired, and she's selected a book with a lot of text, I'll try to trim some of the text down to make the book go faster--skipping a line or two. Ohhhhhh no. She almost always calls me on it and informs me of the line I've neglected to say. She is also an uncannily clear speaker with very precise pronunciation, a huge vocabulary, and a wide variety of sentence structures at her disposal. Embarrassingly, she has taken to asking me whether various children have "accents," and when I inform her no, they do not, she says, "Then why do they talk like that?" It is embarrassing, as I am well aware that she is the oddity, not them.

--Yesterday Daisy had a big "jealous" moment. It was when Mark was playing the guitar at a party. Daisy embarrassed me by stating loudly and clearly that she did not want him to play, and then asking after every song whether that would be the last one. I pulled her aside and she explained to me, "I am jealous, Mama." The reason was that she wanted her father to pay attention to her and talk to her, rather than perform for the party. I convinced her to sit with me and watch, though she continued to tell me periodically, "I am jealous." It is not a pleasant trait, but I know it's a human one and one that children are bound to feel, so I didn't think I should squash her brutally. But we need to work on this somehow. She is definitely grappling with her dark side and brings it up for conversation fairly frequently.

--Another incident occurred at ballet class on Saturday. Daisy was waiting her turn to do something, and I'm sure as she sits there she is thinking (the neat thing is that now she's old enough to share with us trains of thought, or things she was imagining, etc.). I saw a pissed-off look cross her face, and she even put her hands on her hips and made a little defiant face. Then she stood up and said in front of the whole ballet class, to my mortification, "Mama, when I'm having a playdate I want you only to pay attention to me!" I don't know which playdate she was recalling, but it had nothing whatsoever to do with ballet class and just happened to be something she was brooding on. I can tell she knows she is having an emotion that is considered less than admirable because she always gets a dark, sort of guilty look on her face, coupled with defiance, when she decides to declare one of these feelings to me. It is these times when I feel unlucky to have an articulate child. I am pretty sure other children must be having these unattractive emotions too, but instead of screaming or crying or having a tantrum, mine has to state loudly and with perfect clarity exactly which unattractive emotion she is experiencing, for the whole world to hear.

--Yeah, so... she is grappling with these less than wonderful emotions, which I know we all have and deny to varying degrees. But at the same time, she is so sweet and affectionate and wonderful. The great majority of the time, she is full of joie de vivre. She runs and skips and laughs and dances around, and sings! And she has great love for her friends. She is more and more social all the time. I felt we had crossed an important line when she told me recently that it was fine that I would be there (at her swimming lesson), but what friends her own age would be there? In the past, as long as I was going to be with her, she'd be fine, or she'd see me as the ideal playmate. Now, I'm hearing more and more from her that she would like to play with kids her own age.

--She has made great strides physically lately. She is still very delayed, by a year or more, in the gross motor skills department. That means I'm comparing her gains to where she was before, not to other kids her own age. She did a somersault for the first time recently after having been taught by a teacher at her Little Gym class, Jazzy Bugs. This is a new thing--she had asked me to take "tap and jazz" lessons, and a friend recommended the Little Gym's program. Daisy is loving it. They do half an hour of dancing--tap and ballet--and then half an hour in the gym. To my surprise, the gym part is Daisy's favorite. It gladdens my heart to see the way she runs off without me, getting comfortable almost immediately with new adults and new kids. And even though she doesn't have the same level of skills as kids her age, she is trying everything and continually pushing past her own limits-- jumping from high places, somersaulting, and the other day she tried walking on hands and feet along two parallel bars. She surprises me all the time, trying things I would have predicted she would refuse to try. She now bolts up the stairs using one foot per stair, when for years she had to walk slowly and put both feet on every stair. She is just blossoming!

--I think 3.5-4 has been a golden time. She's still fun and silly and has some little kid qualities, but more and more she is my big kid who can converse with me about a lot of things and is increasingly inhabiting the social world. I think I will miss the little kid silliness and lack of inhibition and it will be sort of sad to see her growing all self-conscious, but I know that's also part of becoming a member of society-- becoming aware of the impression you make on other people, of their thoughts and perspectives, etc.

--She is pretty easy. Almost everything can be discussed now. A tantrum/truly degraded moment is a great rarity. She is a skilled procrastinator, but that mostly affects her doting grandma, not her parents. She even agrees to stay in bed till 7 now, although she has the annoying tendency to ask every minute (starting from 6:45 or so, when she's awake then), "Is it 7 now?" I really have to teach her to read her clock. (Well--she can read it, but she doesn't know the math to understand how many more minutes are entailed until 7.) Most of the time, it feels like I am living with a pretty reasonable person who can be counted on to do her part in getting us through the day. Again, I will miss the baby Daisy, but this is a pretty good time.

Fake phone calls

2010-06-24T23:16:00.001-07:00

The Cuteness

2010-06-24T22:44:00.000-07:00

Daisy's fake phone conversations

2010-06-24T21:40:00.001-07:00

Legion of Honor

2010-06-18T13:41:00.001-07:00

Today I asked Daisy what was her favorite part of our trip to the Legion of Honor museum yesterday. I knew what she was going to say, and of course, she said it: "The cafeteria." Not deterred, I asked, "But what was your favorite work of art?" Daisy's response: "The picture of the men trying to hurt Jesus. I loved it."

Daisy is familiar with many Bible stories because one of her faaaaaavorite books is a child's version of the Bible that our neighbor gave her. True enough, she was fascinated by the artwork involving Jesus, including nativity scenes and one--the annunciation?--that showed Mary getting informed by an angel that she was going to give birth to Jesus. There were these long lines sticking down from the sky and it looked like baby Jesus was coming sliding right down them into Mary. We all stared at it a long time.

But Daisy also remembered Rodin's sculpture of the man with the broken nose from last time and asked specifically to go look at it.

Bears & Toilets

2010-06-14T16:37:00.000-07:00

My dear mother, Daisy's beloved gommy, just called to tell me there are bears in Lake Tahoe that might eat Daisy when we go there this summer and that she is sending me an article about how it is possible to drown in a toilet.

Sorry, Mom-- I had to blog you.

PS
"If you enjoyed this blog entry, you might also enjoy...":
http://sarahgossblog.blogspot.com/2006/02/smushed-update.html

Hello

2010-06-07T20:42:00.001-07:00

Hello. It's been a rough little stretch of time, and I thought I'd write something about it. First, Daisy has been terribly sick. She had had a hacking, congested cough forEVER... I mean a month, maybe more. It's always scary because her doctor has told us her coughs can always be precursors of asthma attacks, since she developed asthma after her bout with pneumonia over the winter. So we have to start her on her inhalers right away when she gets a cough, preventively.

In the midst of dealing with the cough issues, she came down with 5th Disease/"Slapped Cheek." It came with a fever and sluggishness, and then just when the fever went away, she broke out from head to toe in the most horrible rash I have ever seen in my life. Every day it looked different. One day it was red welts all over every inch of her body, including her face, and the next day the welts had become wide blotches. The doctor assured us that she wasn't contagious anymore--apparently, by the rash phase, the virus has actually left them, and the rash is the body's crazed autoimmune response to the prior attack. So, okay, but she was still clearly uncomfortable, and just looking at her pained me. It still does-- the red blotches are fading, but she is still bright pink all over her body, and more reddish in certain areas.

Then, yesterday she had an enormous vomiting fit in the car. I am pretty sure it was unrelated to the 5th Disease and to the cough, and luckily she did not throw up today, so maybe it was an isolated incident-- but this poor kid. She was so wiped out by these illnesses that she actually fell asleep at 5:00 on the couch (and slept for two hours), then woke up, ate something, and went right to bed.

I spent a lot of yesterday scrubbing barf out of the nooks and crannies of her carseat and trying to eradicate the smell from my car. This has not been the happiest time for me. I hate seeing Daisy sick and miserable. This is her last week of preschool before summer break, too, so I hope she's well enough to attend it.

In addition, another fun event that occurred is that I got dumped by a long-time friend, the wife of one of Mark's good friends (and mine), too. I won't go into many details, except to say that we were trying to arrange a lunch date and my suggestions fell short because she was expecting a "long and leisurely" lunch, which apparently my suggestions did not fulfill. On top of having a young kid (and a sick one, during the time we were trying to plan this lunch), I have a part-time job and two summer classes currently that meet for six hours apiece, twice a week. I couldn't help feeling a little bitter at her chastisement of me for failing to provide enough leisure for our lunch. I felt like I was trying desperately to come up with something that would please her. After my last suggestion--which involved a four-hour block of time I felt I could devote to a lunch--she wrote me back with a sharp tongue-lashing, accusing me of being ungrateful and failing to appreciate her for all the wonderful things she had to offer. The last line informed me that she was terminating our friendships.

I read this lovely note at 10:30 Wednesday night, after I had come home from a 6-hour class that ended at 9:45. It was the same day that Daisy had started coming down with 5th Disease. It just felt... wrong. I guess the old me would have written back justifying herself to this woman, but this version of me felt too tired. Anyway, I surprisingly did not sink into a funk. I didn't feel too mixed up inside, the way we do when we secretly suspect we're to blame. Not that it's not sad and awkward-- it is. But somehow, I am not taking it on. I am trying to focus on all the wonderful, kind, supportive people in my life who care about me and for whom friendship is genuinely a two-way street.

Sometimes she reminds me of me

2010-05-29T21:36:00.000-07:00

Just sometimes.

1) Today Daisy was rolling down a hill at the playground near our apartment. She really wanted to do it, but it's a long hill and she was hilariously slow in her descent. Midway down the hill, she stopped and just sat there, covered in grasses, staring into space. I asked her what was going on, and she told me she was thinking about the music from the Curious George movie (the only movie she has ever seen, to this date). She said, "Mama, I like to imagine the music in my head. I imagine it all the time."

This touches me. It reminds me of when I was a kid. I was the same way. Music made a strong impression on me, and I latched onto particular songs and pieces and re-lived them in my head frequently. I was emotional and introspective. I can tell she has these parts, too. She also told me the music was purple; now that one's beyond me! I never had that power.

2) There was a very inviting tree at the playground and I suggested climbing on it. Daisy felt she needed help, and her way of expressing this was to say to me, "Don't just stand there. Please help me up!" I told her, kindly, that she shouldn't say "Don't just stand there." She was immediately at great pains to explain to me that she had only meant to communicate that she needed help getting into the tree. I realized that she hadn't meant to be rude; she didn't know "Don't just stand there" was a rude thing to say. This is something that happens with my girl, you see. Sponge-like, she soaks up almost everything she hears, and then she tries out new expressions on us--often before she knows what they mean. One such example recently was "In case you hadn't noticed." She learned this expression and for a day, she started most of her sentences with it, even when it made no sense. She must have heard "Don't just stand there" somewhere and decided to try it out.

After I told her that "Don't just stand there" wasn't the best thing to say, she said, "I wish I had an eraser. I wish I could erase every time I say a bad thing." I would have been more concerned about this sentiment, except she delivered it in a matter-of-fact way, not a distressed way. Still, it touched me, too, because it reminded me so much of myself (except I probably would have been distressed while saying it).

3) An hour later, Daisy again brought up her mistake in saying "Don't just stand there." We had completely moved on to other things, so I was surprised this was on her mind. Again, she explained to me that she had not meant anything by it and that she had just wanted me to know she needed help getting into the tree. Again, I was so strongly reminded of myself. I remember worrying and worrying about things I said, especially when I felt misunderstood-- when an adult thought I had intended something negative and I hadn't. Those experiences were very painful for me.

However, Daisy didn't sound distressed--just like she really needed me to understand. So I told her that I understood and that I wasn't bothered in the least by what she had said. I tried to explain (and I hope she understood me) that that's what mothers are for: helping children figure out what certain words and expressions mean, and the best time and place to use them. I said she should never worry about what she said to me, and that I was only telling her what I did because I thought it would be helpful.

It's just... I can hardly believe how deep things have gotten with her already. She is not even four yet! I can see she is sensitive and thoughtful, which is great, as long as she doesn't become as morbidly sensitive and distressed as I sometimes was as a kid. Ugh.

I love her so much.

Random Mothering Note

2010-05-16T21:04:00.001-07:00

I am probably jinxing myself bigtime by writing this, but I will anyway: today I was thinking that an almost-four-year-old seems to be easier, and possibly MUCH easier, than a three-year-old. Not that I am complaining. Daisy never had any terrible twos, and she never had a "tantrum phase." She had a few tantrums in her life, but they were always isolated incidents rather than regular occurrences. But some of the threes have been challenging, I think because she started realizing she could defy us and argue with us and make counter-points, etc. Lately, however, she seems almost...reasonable. It's eerie. I have a good feeling about four.

Also, I have to tell this brief anecdote. Daisy has taken a shine to the band Mr. Big (yes, that's right, and laugh if you must, but I find her taste extremely excellent). She sometimes pretends that Eric Martin, the lead singer of Mr. Big, is with her, and she converses with him. She also likes Wham and pretends that George Michael is with her. Anyway, the other day I said I was going to go change my clothes and she said, "Can I come with you and watch?" Yes, of course, I said. We went in my room and I started changing. She said, "Eric Martin, would you like to watch my mommy change her clothes?" She also informed me, "George Michael is on the bed, watching."

Yesterday I thought it was funny that Daisy invited Eric Martin and George Michael to watch me change my clothes. Today it suddenly dawned on me that what was funny was actually my response, which was to instantly say, "No, Daisy! Tell Eric Martin he is NOT going to watch Mommy change her clothes and he has to leave right away!" I didn't even hesitate; I was just too horrified that Daisy's invisible friends were invading my privacy.

I am buying into Daisy's invisible friend world just a little too much. I need more fresh air or something.

Cupcake

2010-05-15T14:45:00.000-07:00

I posted some time back that I didn't think the death of the class guinea pig, Cupcake, had had much impact on Daisy. I didn't think it had, but yesterday when she woke up from her nap, she was saying, "Cupcake! Cupcake!" I went into the room and she told me, half-awake, that she thought Cupcake must have gone to heaven because there is some little kid there who wanted a pet. She repeated it and then said, "Do you think that's right, Mama?" It was like she needed reassurance, and it's been months since we discussed Cupcake. I guess these things sort of hibernate and then come back up as their concepts get more sophisticated.

Happy

2010-05-14T22:03:00.001-07:00

I am a tireless mama

2010-05-03T20:04:00.001-07:00

Whatever else it may say on my epitaph when I am gone, it will not say, "She did not try hard." :) I have been running around madly for the last three days giving Daisy all kinds of experiences. On Friday I took Daisy to school and afterward, I met her with her lunch and took her to Park Play on the yellow bus from school (our first time). On Saturday I took her to ballet, lunch, a birthday party for her classmate (the adorable Jordan), and then a barbecue for our friends' anniversary. On Sunday I took her to the Discovery Museum, where Mark met us, and then for some reason we drove to Fairfax, walked around town, ate ice cream, played at a playground, and waded around in a creek (where, randomly, a little boy named Zeus threw a rock at me, so completely blindsiding me that it nearly knocked the wind out of me. His mother, seeing what happened, smirked right in my face. Nice, eh?). Daisy was brave about wading in the river over rocks, some of which were sharp and gave me pain, so it was good to see her taking on the physical risk.

Today I took Daisy to school, ran home and packed a picnic lunch, and then took her after school for a picnic with Gigi and Alex, friends from her class. It was very fun. We hit tennis balls around on a court that we had all to ourselves, and then the kids played their version of Duck, Duck, Goose, which involved all three of them jumping up every time and chasing each other all over the tennis court. Then they played at the adjoining playground for awhile before we went home. Daisy was so exhausted that she has actually been in bed since 7.

But other than my attempt to garner your sympathy with my descriptions of what a tireless mama I am, the really big news from the last few days is that Daisy has been growing in leaps and bounds in terms of her physical development--gross motor skills, that is. This is where she is significantly delayed, according to the OT. He said she was roughly at the gross motor level of a child 2 years, 10 months when she was 3 years, 6 months. She had still not climbed a real ladder, although she climbs up very short rope ladders and those kind of sloping, domed things with footholds. But at the Discovery Museum on Sunday, she climbed far up a real ladder, AND, more impressively, climbed DOWN: now that I think about it, that's the part that had never happened before. She has climbed very short ladders and then taken a slide down. With this contraption at the Discovery Museum, there was no way down except climbing back down the same ladder you went up.

Also, later that day she climbed a sort of rock-climbing wall thing at the playground in Fairfax. I am convinced at this point that she is strong enough and coordinated enough to do these things but is afraid of heights; when she gets too far off the ground, she expresses fear and comes back down. What made me happiest is that she was joyful about both tasks, repeating them over and over again with great enjoyment. I know I need to push her from time to time, but I really prefer to see her taking pleasure in whatever the physical activity is.

She's been doing better with taking her own clothes off and on, too. So... little by little.

I can't believe how grown up she looks

2010-04-26T14:40:00.000-07:00

Synesthesia

2010-04-19T09:45:00.000-07:00

I wrote an earlier post about Daisy and synesthesia; this is just an update to say that Daisy continues to tell us the colors of songs, and it is very cool. Daisy told me in the car on the way to school today about the colors of some French songs we were listening to. It's gotten more elaborate: one song had a red chorus and purple verses. Daisy told me, "Now it's red... now it's purple... now it's red," and the colors switched each time the chorus switched to a verse. Very interesting! I told Daisy that I needed help seeing the colors and she said, "That's because I have more memory."
UPDATE
In the car on the way home from preschool, Daisy instructed me to play "the yellow song." I took a guess on which one she wanted and she laughed at me--the one I chose was so OBVIOUSLY red.

Odd. Interesting.

Daisy and Henry in the Hoberman Sphere

2010-04-12T20:24:00.000-07:00

Daisy and Gigi's playdate

2010-04-12T20:07:00.000-07:00

Well, that was a pleasant day...

2010-03-27T21:05:00.000-07:00

...which is particularly surprising given that I went to the dentist today. (Well, but my teeth were doing beautifully--I have fabulous teeth, don't you know? I am quite sure I mention it constantly every time we meet!)

Mark took Daisy to ballet while I was at the dentist, and then I picked her up and met Robyn, Rene, Eli, Tita Alex, and Vincent at China Beach. What a great idea, guys! It was a beautiful day--sunny but not too hot--and we had picnic lunches and frolicked on the beach. I am not the beachiest person, but for some reason it was superb today. We found some huge starfish and crabs and explored various rocks with sea life clinging to them. We spied a little boy and his mother digging in the sand near the water and making their own little tidepool, so we did the same a few yards away. Then a little girl saw what we were doing and she and HER mother dug a tidepool. Then the little boy came running over and tested our pool, and we tested his, and he very excitedly proposed that we should create a creek system connecting the pools. Now, this took a lot of effort--do not laugh. Suddenly there I was digging these canals to connect the pools, and the other mother was doing it, and then the mother of the little girl did it, and we had some lovely creeks flowing that connected all the pools. Eli's daddy Rene added to the system by creating an alternate route with an island stuck in the middle of it, and all the little kids were running up and down and splashing in the pools and having the best time.

AND, I was so proud of Daisy because I got to watch her confront and defeat a fear. For most of the time we were at the beach, she was afraid to go near the waves. I had to talk her into letting me carry her down by the rocks to see the starfish, and the whole time she was clinging to me and talking to herself, saying, "Be brave, Daisy! Be brave!" Okay, that was pretty cute. But she insisted on running back any time it looked like the waves were encroaching. At the end of the day, though, she suddenly got extremely brave. Don't ask me why. Holding either my hand or Mark's, she wanted to go running into the waves, and we made a game out of it where we pretended to be afraid and went running back after a little while. She was laughing and jumping in the waves at that point, and I think she could have gone on for hours.

I often have a critical feeling about living in San Francisco, but today was one of those happy days when I enjoyed living in this city and in my neighborhood particularly, where we are so close to a place like China Beach. I enjoyed meeting strangers and their kids and digging canals with them; there was almost a jolly small-town feeling to the whole thing, and when we walked away up the big hill I was happy to see that some other kids and families had taken over the pools and canals and were digging in them.

Then we had Eritrean food at a cafe we really like on Clement, Cafe Mereb (go there, San Franciscans), and then Mark went to play a show, and I am here. Don't feel sorry for me-- I really feel too tired to go jump up and down in a bar.

Dead

2010-03-26T09:07:00.000-07:00

All the kids in Daisy's preschool class have now been introduced to the concept of death, as their guinea pig Cupcake died a few months ago (that is, if they weren't already familiar with the concept--some of them might have been). On the day poor Cupcake died, I went to pick up Daisy and a herd of kids came running up to me to tell me about the guinea pig's demise and how he was now under a rock in the front yard. Unfortunately, the tears started coming to my eyes (subtly, I hope) and thus I appeared to be more upset than many of the kids... nice.

There is an adorable little boy in Daisy's class who is often in the book nook in the mornings, too. He kind of reminds me of her: very serious, lots of questions, and a book lover. Apparently, he has been asking a million questions about death since the guinea pig died. The teachers did a St. Patrick's Day presentation, and this little boy raised his hand to ask right off the bat, "Is St. Patrick dead?" This morning I read him and Daisy an Indian story (the tale of Babaji) in which tigers grab hold of each other's tails, race in a circle, go faster and faster, and finally melt into butter, which the family eats on a big pile of pancakes.

Cute Boy: Does that mean they were dead?
Othe clasmate: Yes, they are dead.
Daisy: No! No, they are not dead!
Helpful Classmate: They just melted.
Cute Boy: But they can't talk anymore, or move. I think they died.

I tell you, it is really something to look into these children's sweet faces and serious eyes and try to answer their questions about death.

After that, something kind of upsetting happened. Daisy saw her friend Gigi arrive, and she jumped up in great excitement and started walking quickly--not really running, but walking quickly--across the room to greet her. I saw from where I was sitting an older woman intervene and say something to her. I couldn't hear what the woman said, and I'm not sure who she was--a parent or grandparent, I assume--but Daisy turned right around and walked back over to where I was without greeting her friend. I didn't think much of it, but when it came time to say goodbye, Daisy burst into tears. This NEVER happens. She was really sobbing and saying, "I don't want to be at school today," tons of tears pouring down. At first I was completely stunned, but then it occurred to me that this was related to whatever happened with that woman. Daisy had been in a great mood, rushing over to see her friend, and then something changed. I asked her to tell me what the woman said to her but she repeated, "I don't want to tell you, I don't want to tell you!"

Jolanta, our wonderful teacher, came over and offered to read Daisy a book, which helped. Daisy said, "That's a great idea!" and started wiping her tears away, making an effort to stop crying. Jolanta told her to go get a book, and I heard Daisy asking her friend Gigi to join them. I was able to leave.

But I can't stop thinking... uh-oh. She is going to be sensitive, like I was. I remember that a cross word from an adult could cause me major distress when I was a little kid. I was very sensitive to tone of voice, too, so even if the words weren't overtly mean, if a a harsh tone was used, I was upset. Seems like maybe my daughter is going to be the same way.

Wow

2010-03-22T13:38:00.000-07:00

At lunch today, Daisy asked me if I knew what "metamorphosis" was, pronouncing it precisely. I nearly flipped! She then defined it, very proudly, as "changing." That school really is teaching her something!

This was an important day for Daisy. She had been telling us all weekend about three older girls at school who have been mean to her, telling her to go away, etc. We already knew about these girls because Daisy had mentioned them earlier in the year and they are informally known as "the clique," but she hadn't brought them up in awhile so I had been hoping the problem had gone away. I saw one of the girls with my own eyes shove Daisy out of a line of a kids sitting to watch an acrobat at a child's birthday party, and when Daisy tried to find another spot in the line, she went over and shoved her out of that spot, too. I hate to seem to confirm sexist stereotypes, but several little boys in the line were saying "Hi, Daisy" in a friendly way and it was like this girl was not going to allow Daisy to sit next to any of them. She wanted her to have to sit behind, and she would have had to, if I had not intervened.

We tried to discuss the problem with Daisy over the weekend, explaining in response to "Why are they mean?" that some older girls might not want to play with a younger girl, but they were making a mistake because Daisy is well worth playing with. We also tried to encourage her to focus on playing with other kids.

Well, this morning when Daisy saw one of the girls, she marched right up to her and said, apropos of nothing, "Janie [not her real name], you are making a mistake! I am a big girl!" The girl looked sheepish and somewhat confused. Daisy went on to try to strike up a real conversation with her while they washed their hands in the bathroom; being Daisy, she chose a rather odd topic of conversation (the fact that the sun had been shining in her eyes on the way to school and she had had to cover them with her hand). I could see the girl being unresponsive but not overtly mean, maybe because I was present, and she made one slightly disparaging remark about Daisy's inability to turn on the water faucet by herself.

Daisy had asked me to tell her teacher what was going on, but I thought it would be better if she could tell her herself. So we had gotten to school early today for this purpose and Daisy told the teacher. Our teacher, who is absolutely wonderful, said she was going to have the four girls sit down today at the Peace Rose Table (a Montessori concept--I don't think Daisy's ever sat at it before today). I was nervous all morning with knots in my stomach, even though I knew it should probably go okay for Daisy since this wonderful teacher would be there. It just made me so uneasy, though, to imagine her confronting all three of these older girls, three against one, and my one being the youngest.

But apparently it went well! The teacher told me later that Daisy informed them, "I am almost as big as you are and I will be as big as you soon." The teacher talked with the girls and told them their behavior made her sad, which believe me would make you want to hurl yourself off a bridge-- there is something about our teacher that makes losing her good opinion particularly devastating. She is smart and beautiful and gently ironic with a twinkle in her eye, and has a delicate, lovely way about her. I have seen how all the kids feel about her so I know it would make an impact for her to say this.

The girls said they were sorry to Daisy. Of course, I don't really know if they were just pretending to be sorry in front of the teacher or if they really were, but the apologies made Daisy happy and she has mentioned this several times to me today. I am so proud of her for standing up for herself. She really is a big girl. At the same time, I can't help getting sad about all that is coming, probably-- the ways of the big, mean world. I want to try to teach Daisy to treat others kindly, so I've also been talking with her about how she felt when these girls excluded her and how she would not want to make anyone else feel that way-- so if other kids want to play with her, she should be open to that. I hope these are good teachings. I have noticed that Daisy has empathy-- it was very much in evidence at her very elderly great-grandma's house yesterday, where she was patient and well-behaved, hugged her great-grandma and sat on her lap for a long time, and even ate food she ordinarily wouldn't eat. It was like she understood she needed to be flexible and rise to the occasion and that someone else's needs mattered more (which is not that easy a concept for a three-year-old!). So I think the foundations for a truly empathetic personality are there. They just kind of disappear sometimes when she is particularly tired and cranky :)

Playdate

2010-02-19T23:17:00.001-08:00

Daisy and her absolutely adorable friend from preschool, Gigi

Beseechingly

2010-02-19T21:24:00.000-08:00

That's the title of this post, because my first random update is that Daisy used the word "beseechingly" today in a sentence. I did a double-take and made her say it again, just to be sure. She is so funny, the way she tries out language. She has no idea what it means, but it was used correctly in the strictly grammatical sense--something like, "Mama, watch me go down the slide beseechingly!"

Second thing from today... I asked Daisy, "Who loves Daisy more than anything in the whole world?" fishing for the obvious answer, ME ME ME ME.... and Daisy said, "Zeezus Cwist." "Jesus Christ?" I asked. "No," said Daisy, "not Jesus Christ. Zeezus Cwist." Uhh... my daughter is really a bit odd.

Third update: things have been better at bedtime, and no repeats of the night terror. Whew.

I have been noticing some changes in Daisy, who is now three and a half. She, in conjunction with her friends, seems more capable of extended imaginative play. It was interesting to see Daisy and Henry today pretending they were on a ship, casting themselves in various roles, inventing narratives, and acting them out. This must be the wave of the future. They pretended things before, but their ability to sustain the imaginative play seems noticeably greater now, and it's also somewhat new that they are making the story up collaboratively, taking cues from one another, and developing this whole imaginary world together.

They made up that there were threatening sharks and pirates in the water, which Henry caught with his "shark and pirate net," and then they pretended to eat them. My favorite Henry line: "Look, I'm eating a hammerhead shark sandwich. Do you see his long, flat head sticking out of the bread?"

Okay, that really is a little weird

2010-02-09T11:14:00.001-08:00

I posted yesterday that Daisy has started saying she hates things with holes, particularly blankets. During her horrible night terror episode the other night, she kept grabbing my blanket and flinging it off me, which was not much fun for me since I was cold. I was kinda hoping this antagonism toward holey blankets would calm down after she was finished with the night terror, and she did seem totally back to normal the next day.

But: this morning she asked to get in bed with us, and because she's been having a hard time lately, we said yes. I heard her asking Mark suspiciously, "Does Mommy have a hole-y blanket on her?" I had to throw the blanket away before she'd climb in and cuddle with me! She doesn't even care that the blanket is on ME, not her. She doesn't want it to be on me, either.

Ummm.

I almost forgot...

2010-02-08T21:05:00.000-08:00

...one of Daisy's preschool teachers told Mark today that she is really advanced at math! This thrills me. I knew she was highly verbal, the way I have always been, but math was not a strong point for me. (I got better at it over the years, but it took a long time and was often a stressful area for me at school.) So I am delighted that Daisy is showing early signs of being mathematical.

I just wrote a sort of lengthy post, but I thought I'd add some little Daisy factoids that will allow me to remember her quirky self at this age.

--Daisy continues to like tank tops better than any other clothing, and she explains that it saves you having to roll up your sleeves when you wash your hands
--Daisy does not like HOLES. Okay, that sounds funny, but I'm serious. She doesn't like blankets with holes--just quilts. And if she finds holes in food, she doesn't want to eat it.
--Daisy has an absolutely amazing MEMORY. In this, I suspect she's going to be like her dad. The other day she told me in a perfectly casual way what kind of frozen yogurt everybody had on a particular day over the Christmas holiday: she, Daisy, had vanilla, Hannie had chocolate, Rachel and Gommy had vanilla and chocolate swirl, and Mama had chocolate with M and Ms on top. Uhhhh... how does she remember this? She was right, too--which I guess means I remember it also, but only upon hearing someone else rattle it off.
--Daisy prefers vanilla to chocolate.
--Daisy likes to be cold. This is kind of weird, and I hope it doesn't turn out to be some big signifier of a disorder when I go to her OT appointment. She always asks me to turn on the cold air in the car, regardless of what the temperature is outside, and she particularly wants to be cold when she's trying to sleep. Uhhh... weird.
--Daisy is fascinated by the VILLAINS in books and songs. I had noticed this about her before; she would closely question me about the feelings of Grand-duke Wilfred (a naughty little boy in Bartholomew Cubbins and the 500 Hats), the Wicked Witch of the West, and Lord Licorice, the villain of the game Candyland. She will often tell us she wants to converse with Lord Licorice, or Grand-duke Wilfred, and she confides in them about her own naughtiness. Her latest interest: the song "Bad Boy" by the Beatles (the one that repeats, "Now Junior, behave yourself"). She made me play it about fifteen times in a row in the car the other day, and each time she closely questioned me about the meaning of the lyrics. What did it mean that he was a bad little kid? Why did he put "twigs" (haha) on teacher's chair? It was cute. But I think it's a serious thing for her. She is trying to figure out what it means to have naughty feelings and impulses. I suppose books often make it seem like these characters are bad guys, whereas of course, we all have naughty feelings and make mistakes... so I am trying to show her that it is okay to have those kinds of feelings and it doesn't relegate you to the status of a villain in a story. But that's a complicated message to get across to a 3-year-old. One time she said something sort of rude to me and then paused and asked, "Does this mean I have rotten insides?" This was an idea from a book, but I think it genuinely connected with her.

Okay, guess that's it for now.

The latest

2010-02-08T20:56:00.000-08:00

I have not been good about posting! It makes me sad when I look back at the baby years and realize how much more diligent I was back then.

Daisy continues to be a delight in most ways, but she's definitely been going through a rough patch lately. I would state unequivocally that three has been harder than two. I don't think she ever really had "terrible twos," but as a three-year-old, she has been setting her will against us more and more and giving us a hard time when there's something she doesn't want to do... namely, go to bed. She had not given us any trouble in this department in a long time, but all of a sudden, it bubbled back up again. She was saying she was scared of the dark and of monsters, but that seems not to be it, really; we started letting her sleep with the light on, and it did not improve the situation at all. Then, tonight, she was screaming and crying hysterically that she wanted her daddy to stay in her room with her. We tried to tough it out, but it was just too hard-- so I came up with the idea of having her sleep in her travel bed on the floor of our room. She instantly cheered up. We set her up there, and she went to sleep. No problem. So: what this proves is that she was not so scared of the dark, of being alone, or of monsters... because she went to sleep alone, in a room actually darker than her own. All she needed was the concept that it was Mama and Dada's room. We'll have some more figuring out to do on this one.

Other than the sleeping issue, Daisy has been doing pretty well lately. She greatly enjoyed Rachel and Hannah's visit and was elated to introduce Hannie to her teachers and show her her classroom today. Every day she seems to me to be growing ever more mature, grown up, compassionate, and thoughtful. Her preschool teachers told Mark in a recent conference that she is blossoming at school, and I've noticed that more and more artwork appears in her folder (showing that she's doing more stuff, not just reading books the whole time). Now, when I take her to school she says she wants me to read her a few books and then she'll show me "a work" she is doing (that's what they call it in Montessori). This is fairly new--eagerness to do something other than read books together. She is starting to cut with scissors--a fine motor skill that has continued to elude her all these years! And she is eager to try new physically daring tasks at the playground.

I still have the OT appointment for her this Friday. I'm sure I'll post on how it goes!

The Daisy Updates

2010-01-30T20:32:00.000-08:00

1) OT appointment on Feb. 12. No new information yet to share :-)

2) The pet of Daisy's classroom--a guinea pig named Cupcake--died last week, and so the kids all learned about death during circle time (the ones who hadn't learned about it in some other way already, I should add). I was nervous about what I'd hear when I picked Daisy up from school, but she simply said, "Cupcake died. He is under a rock in the yard. We sang him 'Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.'" This was enough to make ME burst into tears: something about the kids gathered around a rock in the schoolyard and picking "Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer" as their parting song to Cupcake. But Daisy didn't cry, and she seemed sort of interested, but not particularly heartbroken. I had the chance to observe a bunch of the three-year-olds reacting to Cupcake's death, and they were all pretty much the same. They wanted us to know, and they had a few questions (mostly pragmatic, though, not "Big Questions"), and they almost all stopped to show us the rock on their way out. It was touching to see the little circle of three-year-olds gathered around it, puzzling over what they had just seen. Somebody asked (actually, it may have been Daisy), "Is he warm under there?" But they seemed more curious than distressed. [Oh, and one of my favorite exchanges: I heard one of Daisy's three-year-old compatriots being told by her mom, "Cupcake is in heaven," and the little girl promptly replied, "No he isn't. He is under a rock."]

The four-year-olds were upset, though. They were sooooo different from the three-year-olds. It kind of blew my mind. The four-year-olds were grieving for Cupcake. Whatever happens conceptually between three and four, it is BIG. They are totally different people when it comes to the ability to grasp loss. Prepare yourself, Self.

3) Daisy may not grasp death yet, but she is going through some significant fears. She had been talking about monsters at bedtime for weeks now, maybe months. It's made me wonder if we've been irresponsible about letting her see things on TV, but we are so careful. She can't handle anything more intense than Sesame Street, and she will tell us directly if something scares her and we turn it off. Really, she is not seeing anything scary on TV, and yes, I know there are "monsters" on Sesame Street, but they are ELMO and his friends. The fear of monsters could just as easily be coming from her books. It does not take a lot to scare Daisy, we are learning, and she fairly frequently tells us a book we've selected is too frightening and we have to stop reading it.

Anyway... whatever the cause, it's too late to go back now. She has this fear of monsters. We have to leave her bedroom door open now and lots of lights (it now seems like a distant memory that we used to be able to turn off her lights and shut her door!). But she still gets scared and often calls out now in the night. We have had some nights where we've gotten very little sleep. She sleeps with the monster beads I gave her, but they don't seem to be doing the trick. I think we may have to put a bed down on the floor of our room and give her permission to come sleep on it if she's having problems. That would be better than having to go into her room constantly in the middle of the night. Maybe we'll try that, but I don't know if that will work, either.

4) Daisy is growing up. More and more she seems to me like a fun companion, rather than a kid who needs watching. I truly enjoy my time with her and my favorite days are "Daisy and mama days." I missed her terribly on Thursday, which is the day I'm at school almost all day. I enjoy my classes, but it's hard to be away from Daisy. There are so many wonderful things to do together, and most of the time, Daisy is up for anything and in a good mood, willing to try anything I suggest. So, although I continue to feel stressed out about money, school, job possibilities, and other basic survival types of issues, I have to call these good times of my life, because it's such a wonderful time with Daisy.

Magical Beads and OT

2010-01-26T10:29:00.000-08:00

1. I never thought I'd try something like this, but last night I gave Daisy a magical bracelet to "ward off monsters and other make-believe things." We have been telling her, over and over and over again, that there are no such things as monsters. This approach does not work. She immediately agrees to it; yes, there are no such things as monsters. Then she says, "But what if there WAS a monster, and it came through this wall?" It occurred to me yesterday, while reliving some lovely childhood memories with my family, that my terror of vampires was not allayed by knowing they didn't exist--and I was eight, not three. I knew there were no vampires, but somehow, it didn't help with the fear. The only thing that helped was the basket of garlic my mother gave me. Soooo.... last night I gave Daisy a magical monster-defeating bracelet. I told her that monsters were make-believe, but that this bracelet helped with make-believe creatures. She thanked me profusely. It still took a long time for her to go to sleep, and I don't at all know that the bracelet is going to work, but that's my latest attempt to deal with the ongoing fear of sleep problems Daisy is having. Sigh; like mother, like daughter, apparently.

2. The OT therapist called last night and I made an appointment for Daisy. She is going to get a full evaluation. I am glad I'm doing this, and so many trustworthy friends have assured me it's a good thing, but I feel a little nervous. Mark's cousin, who is a doctor, gave us the good advice that you want to be very careful about letting the system put diagnostic labels on your child, and that makes a lot of sense to me. Although the OT seemed nice, I couldn't help sensing on the phone a certain eagerness to get her diagnosed. I asked him whether sometimes, you had a kid who just had delays in developing fine motor skills, and no other larger problem. He answered yes, but a bit hesitantly, like he didn't expect that to be the case with Daisy. Usually there are other, bigger issues.

Then he described Asperger's and sensory processing disorder to me, both of which I've heard about from others and read a little bit about. I don't want to come across as defensive--refusing to believe that this could be true of my child-- but they honestly don't sound like her. Daisy is very good at reading social cues, which makes her not seem to fit the description of kids with Asperger's. Her favorite time of the Montessori day is circle time because she enjoys the communal, interactive time so much. She doesn't have trouble with transitions from activity to activity (I think she's actually better at this than other 3-year-olds) and is flexible and adaptable to new situations. I'll certainly be open to hearing what the OT has to say, but these are the two criteria he described on the phone, if I'm remembering correctly, and they don't sound at all like Daisy. I could possibly be confusing some of the symptoms of sensory processing disorder with the ones he described for Asperger's, but suffice it to say, none of them sounded like Daisy. The other ones (associated with sensory processing disorder, I think) had to do with sensitivity to stimuli--like not wanting the fabric of your shirt to touch your arm or needing the tag cut out of a garment; being extremely finicky about food, to the point of only being able to eat a few things; problems being in a crowd or large group activity; hating the feeling of having hair washed; and some other things that I'm not remembering so well right now.

I realize Daisy might not have every symptom listed here and could still have the disorder. But it takes a big stretch for me to make her fit. The parts about crowds and groups don't fit at all. The part about "finicky eater" has to be pressured to fit. Yes, she's never been a hugely enthusiastic eater, and she would rather eat treats than salad. But she's THREE. I would not say she is an adventurous eater, but I could easily come up with a pretty long list of foods she eats: almost any Asian food, macaroni, pasta, chicken, broccoli, carrots, peas, Matzo ball soup, almost any fruit.... So, yes, she's a 3-year-old eater, and not the best. But the children who have the disorder sound more extreme in their pickiness. Then some of the other ideas: okay, no, she doesn't love having her hair washed because she doesn't like the feeling of water streaming into her eyes, and sometimes she protests, but she WILL do it. Does that qualify as meeting one of the criteria? Do other three-year-olds enjoy having their hair washed? And then the one about sensitivity to clothes. This one made me a little nervous, because it's true that Daisy would rather wear a tank top than anything else. She has told us she strongly prefers "no sleeves." She has strong opinions about what she wears in all areas, though. She likes to wear tight pants, not "wiggly pants." She prefers red and pink to other colors. There are some other prefences that I'm not thinking of right now. But I've heard from other mothers that their three-year-old girls are expressing strong opinions about what they wear. Does this necessarily mean sensory processing disorder?

From what I've been able to learn from Daisy, I don't think her preference for tank tops has to do with feeling like her skin is irritated by sleeves. When we make her put on something with long sleeves, she's fine. And she almost always wears long sleeves to bed. The preference for tank tops seems to be an aesthetic choice, rather than related to feelings of skin irritation. Daisy doesn't seem overly sensitive to any kind of stimuli, as far as I can tell.

I truly want to be open-minded and not defensively shooting down the possible diagnoses of Asperger's or sensory processing disorder. If Daisy has either of these conditions, I want to know so that I can be the most helpful mother possible to her. But the only symptoms I can say with certainty she shares with these diagnoses are hypertonia (the low muscle tone) and delayed development in fine motor skills. What if that's all there is?

So I will go in to the meeting with an open mind, but I also want to be prepared to ask challenging questions if the OT seems quick to diagnose. I am taking with me one memory that makes me wary: a college psychiatrist who wanted to slap a label on me that did not fit and immediately begin heavily medicating me. I could tell she had leaped to conclusions about me based on some of the leading questions she asked me-- questions that showed she had already formed her opinion of me and presumed a certain answer. I had done my own research and when I asked her a few questions-- not defensively, but so as to participate in an informed way in my own diagnosis-- she became extremely defensive and wouldn't or couldn't answer. She seemed very surprised that I would become informed on my own and have any questions, rather than just immediately accept her word for it. Then she told me that when I was ready to "accept my diagnosis," I could see her again. Needless to say, I never returned and I never took the medication she had in mind for me. I am 100% positive she was on the wrong track with me then, twelve years ago.

I guess I want to be sure I'm a good advocate for Daisy if I sense something similar happening here. I don't want the ball to start rolling with a diagnosis that may not fit her.

My baby and occupational therapy (maybe)

2010-01-13T15:51:00.001-08:00

Deep sigh. I have to state for the record, first, that Daisy was the most verbal child I have ever met in my life, and I swear it's not parental bias. She had several words (dada, mama, hi, hey) by the time she was six months old and many more by the time she was nine to ten months old. At 16 months she spoke in phrases and short sentences and started counting; she had long sentences under control by 18 months. Her pronunciation, too, has always been oddly precise and non-babylike. Before she was two, she had memorized entire books and would sit by herself, turning the pages and reciting the entire story word for word. She did this with dozens and dozens of books. Now that she's three and a half, she can read a little, do some addition and subtraction, and count forwards and backwards without error to high numbers. I have also found her to be a quick study when we've tried to teach her important skills. She potty trained quickly, hardly ever had accidents, and has been out of nighttime pullups for months. So: I am pretty sure, when I remind myself of all these things, that she is intelligent and alert upstairs.

But she didn't crawl till she was a year old, and she didn't walk till fifteen months or so. Around that time her doctor referred her to a physical therapist who told us she is extremely flexible with loose joints and low muscle tone (hypotonic). At three and a half, she still does not climb ladders and is so afraid to try that I can't even attempt to teach her. At the playground she is outdone physically by two-year-olds. I can't get her near a tricycle and she shows great trepidation about any toy that involves movement. Her preschool teachers have told me extensively about her poor motor skills. Her hands don't have good control (although they highly praise her page-turning ability, which is a fine motor skill); she is not strong; she is uncoordinated; she needs to learn to hop on one foot and skip; etc, etc, etc. They pointed out that she has a very hard time taking her shoes on and off and with other articles of clothing, which is certainly true (we've been working on it; she's gotten a little better). Apparently they have a hard time getting her out of the library section of the room, and at times she lies on the floor talking to herself. (When I first heard this I was a bit freaked out, but even at home she sometimes sits with her dolls and animals, telling long, animated stories and doing "voices," which is just so cute--and I guess she might do it lying down sometimes.)

Today I tried to make cookies with her and felt almost speechless realizing the extent of her limitations. I asked her to mix things with a wooden spoon but her arm was like a limp noodle. As much as I encouraged her, she was either unable or unwilling to put any strength into it whatsoever. I switched to having her scoop flour out of a big bowl and dump it into my bowl while I mixed, but this task proved even more challenging. She was unable to scoop much flour and I'm almost embarrassed to describe her technique, which mostly consisted of skimming the bottom of the measuring cup along the top of the flour. I think she was really trying, too. Her dumping of the flour into my bowl was highly inaccurate, too.

I started to feel worried. I've made an appointment now at Kaiser to have her evaluated by an occupational therapist, but I am almost afraid to hear what he or she will have to say.

EDIT: Okay, that was yesterday. I was totally appalled by how unable she was to help me with the cookies. I agree with her teachers that her motor skills need work, and I am going to keep the OT appointment. But I have calmed down. It must be the book I am reading about multiple intelligences!

Also, it's not as if she doesn't like playgrounds or doesn't like to do anything physical. She loves dancing and physical play, and she's often quite active at the playground--just not doing the same things on the same level as other kids her age.

The other thing I don't quite get is that when she seems motivated and interested, she seems able to master a fine motor skill. For instance, the page-turning: she really was good at it from an early age, and probably at an earlier age than other kids--very precisely turning pages and not missing a page or ever ripping a book accidentally. And lately, she has mastered bead-stringing, which is a fine motor skill. So... maybe she is just not interested in the other skills? I dunno. I'd love to hear the OT's view. One of the reasons I worry is that you read all the time about the importance of "crossing the midline" and it's a big deal in Montessori education.

New Year's Eve

2010-01-01T22:21:00.000-08:00

This is what we looked like right before we went up on the roof of our building at midnight with our friends! Daisy was very, very excited to be up there at night. I just can't believe she was still awake.

More plans

2009-12-30T22:38:00.001-08:00

"My plan is to get thrown in jail...

2009-12-30T21:02:00.001-08:00

...No, no, that's a bad plan."

Post-Christmas collapse

2009-12-30T20:08:00.000-08:00

Day after Christmas

2009-12-30T19:04:00.000-08:00

Daisy was so delighted at the visit from Cousin Rache and Cousin Hannie

Hannie and Daisy had fun at Healdsburg's fantastic new playground; Daisy tried to keep up with Hannie, which was excellent motor skills practice for my wee 'un (who tends to need work in this area)

When my mother ran into two of her friends in town, the girls proudly announced, "We are cousins!" and gave each other a hug

The Planner

2009-12-30T18:48:00.000-08:00

Daisy has been making up all kinds of games lately. One of her games is to page through my yearly planner and say "My plan is...." on every page. I have a video of this and it's pretty funny, so I think I'll post it. On the first day of the game, the plans were really crazy, like to "get thrown in jail" and "get thrown in a garbage can." I really don't know where she got those. But today, her plans were to "eat cookies in the sky, eat cupcakes on the moon, and eat strawberries on the sun." Then she reversed the locations so that cupcakes were consumed on the sun and strawberries were consumed on the moon, "so they wouldn't be parted." After every page, she turns to me and says, "Is that a good plan?" And at the end she announced, "Those are all the plans I have. I don't have any more."

Now she is flipping through the planner and telling a story. Her stories are very wacky. Very. I can't follow it, but it features the following: "The temple came crashing down," something about Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer, and several mentions of "mere mortals," "breakable fingers," and the question, "How much do you weigh?"

And now back to our regularly scheduled sweet, darling holiday posts

2009-12-28T21:11:00.000-08:00

Christmas at Gommy and Gompy's house

First, this... I need to show you the look on Daisy's face when she opened her Bert doll. She really couldn't believe Santa had come through for her.

Daisy's face after eating the enormous candy cane Santa left in her stocking

Daisy dancing in Gommy's kitchen with Jamie

Daisy said the F word

2009-12-28T21:08:00.000-08:00

I still have more Christmas photos to post. But I thought I'd break up the long string of sweet, innocent posts by telling you that DAISY SAID THE F WORD as clear as a bell this evening, and she used it perfectly in context, too. She said, and I quote, "Where is my toothbrush? F*ing crap!" It was like a scene from The Exorcist. When we asked her where she learned to say this, she pointed at Mark... and I am sure she learned it from him, too. I do not say that. Not sayin' I'm perfect, but that's not one of my expressions. I'll bet he said it while driving. I just tried to explain to Daisy about naughty words that you cannot ever say in public... dear God. Please don't let her say that at preschool or in front of another child or said child's parents.

Christmas morning at our house

2009-12-28T17:17:00.000-08:00

Daisy was happy. Santa remembered to bring her a Bert doll. That was the only thing she asked for.

Christmas Eve

2009-12-28T17:00:00.000-08:00

We had a great Christmas Eve at Barbara and Andy Chiari's house (Mark's aunt and uncle). There is always delicious food and a lot of very kind company. The Chiaris are fabulous hosts. As for my pictures...I'm afraid I'm guilty of forgetting to take pictures of grownups. And I'm afraid I was also guilty of photographing the toddler girls more than anyone else. Woops! I'll be more balanced next time.

Daisy getting ready to go in to the party (I had to show off the cute green bows I put in her pigtails)

Daisy and the adorable Anya

Daisy and Anya pretending to explore a jungle and encounter various wild animals

Daisy and Kiki getting thrown in the air by their daddies

Daisy and Anya having fun with paper crowns

Andy and Ronan, his newborn grandson

Anna and Daisy's Cousin James

Way behind on photos

2009-12-28T16:42:00.000-08:00

Here are some from a wonderful evening we had with our friends John, Rachel, and Ellie, who live in Union City. They made a delicious stew and Hobbit Cakes (Rachel invention) for us and then we went out in the cold and did a quick tour of a neighborhood of Victorian houses that do an amazing job of Christmas decorating every year. After that we did the Niles Canyon train of lights--something we've wanted to do with Daisy ever since she's been old enough to appreciate it. John and Rachel made us all thermoses of hot chocolate and brought snacks for the train. What kind friends! Daisy especially loved the open-air car of the train. She never got tired of sitting out in the cold watching the world rush by. (Oh, almost forgot: Santa and Mrs. Claus also came by and gave out candy canes at the end of the train trip, and Mrs. Claus commented disapprovingly on my Bah Humbug Christmas hat, which I had forgotten I was wearing.)