SUMMER SWIM (June 2007)

Summer days are often uncomfortably hot and the kids like to play in the small inflatable 2-ring wading pool I have for them.  It doesn’t hold much water, but they can splash each other and cool off.

One day last summer while Kelsi was taking her nap, Sophia had the pool all to herself.  She laid down and put her head on the pillow-soft top ring which allowed just enough room for her legs to stretch to the other side.  After a few minutes of hearing no chatter and no splashing, I looked up to see her totally relaxed, her eyes closed and arms floating at her sides.  I got out of my chair and upon closer inspection, I realized she was asleep.

I didn’t want to wake her (she was finally quiet, for heaven’s sake!), but I wanted her protected from the sun.  I asked Sherry to help me place the lawn chaise over the pool to put Sophia in shade.  The task was accomplished and Sophia slept on.

Several minutes later, the lawn service crew came by.  They cordially greeted me and I signaled with a finger to my lips that they should be quiet.  I received a quizzical look, so I pointed at what was in the pool under the chair.  They slowly lifted the chaise and with gentle smiles on their faces, shook their heads in amazement when they saw Sophia asleep in the water.

In order to get on with their work, the men moved the chaise into the shade of the garage and Sherry and I lifted Sophia onto it.  Once the fellows moved the pool to the driveway, they continued to mow.

And Sophia continued to sleep.

Copyright ©2007  Kitty Park

SPARKY (February 2007)

The By-Laws of this condo association specify that each owner is responsible for maintaining the yard light in front of his unit.  These lights are not only decorative but functional in that they light the path from the driveway to the front door.  A sensor turns it on and off.  Visitors who arrive after dark should find the pathway lighted for their safety.  Because of insurance liability concerns, it is mandatory that those lights work.

It seems that residents living here have had to replace those bulbs on the average of every six months.  I am an exception.  I have been here for nearly two years and that little bulb burned faithfully from that point and before.  I was thinking about naming that bulb.  Sparky perhaps.

Tuesday we suffered through miserable snow squalls.  When I went to bed Tuesday night, it burned brightly -- I could see its reflection on the bedroom ceiling.  But Wednesday night, oh, no -- *no* reflection!  In the morning, with temperatures in the teens, I wasn't about tackle the task, rules or no rules.  But yesterday, Saturday, I decided to get the job done, knowing today would be colder and the forecast for the next several days included a combination of rain and snow.

One of my neighbors who has replaced her bulb four times had told me, "The screws that are the obvious ones to get to the bulb aren't the ones you use."  I remember her saying that; I don't remember what followed.  When I looked at the lamp, I recognized the screws that obviously held the top on.  When I removed them, the top should lift off and I could change the bulb.

So I unscrewed all three and in the process dropped two in the foot of snow beneath the lamp post.  Then I discovered that these were the screws I wasn't supposed to remove.  So I replaced them (after using the snow shovel to dig for the two I'd dropped).  I cleared a place in the snow for the ladder and after climbing it, I found two fasteners on the top of the light.  After removing them and lifting the top, I was able to extract Sparky who was very dirty and sitting in the middle of the dried carcasses of dead bugs.  And look here -- Sparky was a 100 watt bulb!!!  The replacement will be a mere 40 watts.  I replaced the screws in the top, climbed down the ladder, gathered tools and moved them back into the garage.

Dusk came, but the light that should have come on failed to do so.  Crap.  I knew I should have checked the bulb before putting it in the lamp.  Come morning, I'd have to go through the process again.

While lying in bed this morning, knowing that it's still cold and probably snowing again, I remembered that some people had turned off their yard lights challenging the must-be-on rule.  There is a switch for this somewhere in the garage.  With fingers crossed, I went out and found a plug, one with a "reset" button.  I noticed that the display of the clock radio plugged into the outlet was dark.  So I pushed the reset button and the clock's green display began blinking 12:00 at me.  Somehow the night of the big snow the circuit breaker must have kicked off, killing Sparky’s glow!  Tonight I should have light at the lamp post.

So poor Sparky wasn't dead, isn't dead.  Now I'm pondering going to the trash can and pulling Sparky out, dusting it off, and perhaps displaying it in the china cabinet in honor of its long service.  I am confident that if I return it to the lamp post, it will burn out in a matter of days if not hours, and I'll have to climb that ladder again and way too soon.

Copyright ©2007  Kitty Park

HAPPY DANCE (January 2007)

The other day Sophia and Kelsi were doing "gymnastics" -- their versions of pushups, sommersaulting, and splits.  Sophia began rapidly side-shuffling through the room and I had the brilliant idea to show her how to skip.

I found that although I can walk well, this large backside I carry has me anchored firmly to the ground.  To skip, I need a spring in my hop and folks, it's gone.  I darned near fell flat on my face when I tried to skip on the second foot before the first lifted off the floor.  The girls looked at me with quizzical expressions on their faces and I mumbled something about not being as agile as I once was.  Sherry (Kelsi's grandmother) was laughing so hard she nearly had to go home to change underwear.

Then Sophia's eyes lit up and she said, "Grandma, do it this way," and merrily took off skipping through the living room.  Later Dawn said she's been able to skip for a long, long time.  Humph.

Copyright ©2007  Kitty Park

GOD LOVE HER (June 2005)

Like many (most?) kids, they are normally adorable -- how they do what they do, the expressions on their little faces, their uninhibited display of affection.

As we did for Brandon, there is a list of naughty words whose use will result in punishment.  Calling someone "stupid" for example.  Then of course, there are the distasteful adult words -- damn, shit -- well, you get the idea.

When Sophia's disgruntled, usually with a person (parent or grandparent), she'll strike out with her hands, often resulting in scratches to her offender.  And the look she gives -- remind me not to cross her when she's older!

So picture a 2-1/2 year old who's been denied what she wants.  Her hands are being held so she can't hit or scratch.  Nailing you with venom in her eyes, she says with clipped words, "Stupid shit!"  Disciplined for her disrespect, she sits on the floor with her back against the wall, crying.  She looks at you, tears running down her face, and says, "My sorry, Mommy/Daddy/Grandma."  (We've all had a turn or two.)  Allowed to get up, she comes for a hug, then pulls away, looks at you very seriously and says, "Stupid shit!"  And then she smiles.

God love her..............

Copyright ©2005  Kitty Park

GOOD THINGS COME IN SMALL PACKAGES (December 2004)

Brett moved to San Diego in August and he's loving California living.  The challenges of his new job with the landscape design firm have enabled him to travel to many places, the most exotic being Hong Kong.

In the last few years, probably since Brandon was born in 2000, Brett has flown home to be with Dawn's family and me for either Thanksgiving or Christmas.  Brett said he wanted to come back this year, too, but being the person with the least seniority, he expected that he'd need to be available if any problems arose.  A week or so ago, he confirmed that he wouldn't be coming.  And frankly, I didn't expect him because any seats on holiday flights would have already been taken days/weeks earlier.

We talk frequently and this past Tuesday he asked if I'd be home Wednesday, December 22, because he wanted to have a three-way conversation on the phone.  When I asked who the third party was, he said it was a secret.  He said to expect the call around 11:00 PM.  But at 9:30 Wednesday evening he called to say it wasn't going to work and perhaps they'd try again today, the 23rd.

At 6:00 this morning the phone rang and I answered from the extension in my bedroom.  It was Brett, and it was 3:00 AM California time.  He didn't sound like he'd been partying.  Brett asked why I was still in bed.  Didn't I have to go to work?

Yes, I told him, I do have to work, but not until 1:00.  "So, why are you calling me this early?"

"Here," he said, "talk to this person."  I listened, but there was no voice.  In the background, I could hear a doorbell.  A few seconds, and I heard it again.  And then again.

"Brett, are you ringing my doorbell?!!"

Snicker......  Soft laugh......  The doorbell again.

I uttered some four-letter expletive, hung up the phone and scurried to the door.  There he was, damp with melting snow, grinning at me.

His plan had been to fly into Canton, but weather grounded planes in Detroit.  After standing in line to book a later flight (which wouldn't have gotten him here until Christmas Eve day, maybe), he and three other stranded passengers rented a car and drove to town.  The three-hour drive took six hours, but he's here now, sound asleep in my bed.  And Dawn didn't know he was coming, so later today we'll spring the surprise on her and Matt, and the party will begin!

Sometimes the best gift comes in no package at all.

Copyright ©2004  Kitty Park

HER NAME IS BABY (March 2004)

She’s putting two words together now.

At seventeen months old, Sophia’s vocabulary is rapidly expanding.  I’m convinced learning to sign (capturing the concept visually first) is the reason.  As with Brandon, we started with "eat" and "more."  "Done" is Mommy's creation.  To eliminate the ear-splitting screech Sophia voiced to escape mealtime confinement, Dawn taught Sophia to slam her hands down onto the highchair tray when she's finished a meal.

She signs "eat" a lot.  And "more" as well.  She eats a variety of things but prefers fruits and vegetables.  And cookies.  Although she recognizes the sign for cookie, she never signed it.  She went right to the word.  And she says it perfectly.

She has a book with a soft ball on it.  Ball was one of her next words.  Now anything circular in shape is a ball -- the smoke protector, O’s, light bulbs.

She has spent some weekends with her paternal grandparents.  Their household consists of Nana, Pappap and Hunter, the dog.  We were looking at pictures the other day and she pointed at Hunter and said "Pap."  Seeing Nana, she voiced something sounding like "unner."  She knows they belong together, but she doesn’t yet know who’s who.

Sophia says juice, signs water and knows the difference.  She identifies her ear, hair, nose, mouth and eyes.  It’s difficult to rock her to sleep (which I occasionally like to do), because she lies in my arms, one thumb in her mouth and the finger of her other hand tapping the lens of my glasses, saying "eye."  Then she moves to my ear, pulls on the earring, says "ear," and then touches her own.

The inflection in her voice often gives a clue to what she’s trying to say.  Most recently there are three syllables strung out in a sing-song voice as she tries to say, "Where are you?"

Two-syllable words often repeat the consonant: Elmo is Memo, Gramma is Maama, Bunny (her blanket with long-eared rabbit head at the center) is Bucky.

Foot is toof. Sock is cox.

Two words together? "More cookie."

And just yesterday, "Where are you, Bucky?"

Copyright ©2004  Kitty Park

LEARNING MACHINE (January 2004)

As a baby, in the days her routine consisted of sleeping, eating and pooping, Sophia mirrored Brandon’s behavior.  However, she’s now a year old and developing a personality and intelligence of her own.

In “Second Chance” I wrote about our use of signing and speaking when communicating with Brandon (and now Sophia).  Brandon seemed to grasp the concept and use it much earlier than Sophia has.  But now Sophia’s on board.  And she’s even developing her own signs.

She recognizes the sign for “drink” but doesn’t use it.  Instead she says “juice” (soos) or “milk” (mik) and, once she catches the eye of an adult, moves toward the kitchen to get a cup of her beverage of choice.  She does sign “eat” (tapping the fingers of one hand against her lips).  The sign for “more” is tapping the fingertips of both hands together.  Because she’s evidently going through a growth spurt, she frequently wants to eat -- and her sign combines eat and more: the fingertips of one hand against the palm of the other.

I have two cats and her family has a dog, so she’s learned the sign for cat (flick of fingers against cheek indicating whiskers) and dog (snapping of finger/thumb as if calling a dog to heel).  She is a book lover and will turns pages in one book signing “eat” to identify pages of food items.  There are pages of animals -- a cow, horse, pig, elephant, giraffe – and we’re working with her on these.  Brandon hasn’t forgotten the signs, so he, too, tries to teach her.  In fact, even though he knows their proper name is “giraffe,” he continues to refer to them as “long necks,” the sign for giraffe.

Daddy was her first intelligible word.  “Daddy” to come get her first thing in the morning.  “Daddy” to come get her after a nap.  Then she learned “Mommy.”  If Daddy doesn’t come get her quickly enough when summoned, she moves on to Mommy, calling louder and more often until she’s finally rescued from the confinement of her crib.

Sophia is easily frustrated and issues a deep-throated “arrrrghh!” when she can’t accomplish some task she’s undertaken.  She’s also been known to bonk herself on the head with her palm, as if asking, “What am I going to do?!”

All little people must like music.  She’ll stop whatever she’s doing when she hears a catchy tune.  Her response to the music will be to stamp her foot or turn in circles or hunch her shoulders and flex her knees in her interpretation of the beat.  And she grins as she moves.

Sophia’s now cutting back from two naps a day to one.  Once she picks up a fuzzy stuffed animal and puts her thumb in her mouth, it’s a subtle indication she’s ready for sleep.  We ask, “Are you ready for night-night?” and she races us to the bedroom.  Yes, sometimes it’s a false positive, and it appears she merely wanted to run, not go to bed.  Other times we get lucky.  Toy cuddled in her arm and held close to her cheek, thumb in her mouth, she’s quiet for a short time.  A respite for the latest high-intensity learning machine.

Copyright ©2004  Kitty Park