So we're off! To Chicago, that is. Which is twenty miles away. Only.
If you're walking, that is certainly a long way.
But we are not walking - we are riding on the train - the "L" - to downtown Chicago for a vacation. For two days and two nights. Brilliant!
It all started when Nathan took a week to write in the woods - on a farm, more accurately - so to make more headway on his play, which he did. Hooray! But a week sans husband and plus three children (my two plus the sweet Ma'ani, whom we watch during the day) made my head spin. Where would my beloved and neglected personal time go? What about Family Day (Saturday)? So I bargained. We would completely support this sabbatical if we got a vacation in return. I would have supported it anyway, dear reader, but this felt more just.
Because Nathan couldn't take more time off of work, we decided to go on his weekend, which is Friday & Saturday. And so I began to plan. We had some free tickets to the Aquarium... There is a new Family Room at the Chicago Art Institute... I work in the hotel business, so I could call some favors in there... It all began to take shape, and was helped along by a little "map" I made one night for Olivia, so she would know what to expect. I'll find that and upload it a little later, but here's the shake-down:
Family -->
Early Brekke -->
Train -->
Hotel (early check-in @ 8 AM!) -->
Aquarium -->
Luncheon -->
Hotel (rest time) -->
Supper -->
Hotel again for Sleep -->
Sleep/Wake -->
Room Service! -->
Art Museum -->
Drop-in Class for Olivia (free!) -->
Lunch/Dinner @ Russian Tea Time -->
Play at the park or Rest at Hotel -->
Tea/Supper -->
Hotel again for Sleeping -->
Sleep/Waking -->
Early Train -->
House of Worship for Nathan, Home for We3 girls
I'm ready. No dishes and all family. FUN!
01 April 2010
11 March 2010
This morning
4:00 AM Olivia has made her way into our bed yet again. The bed is sheetless, because the sheets are hanging up in the bathroom, because we don't want to spend $1.75 to dry them. It adds up. (Thankfully Liz has the patience, skill and determination to make a laundry line in any space. She's actually what one might call a "Laundry Line McGyver.") For some reason I'm using Olivia's pillow. My pillow is nowhere to be seen. Last night I didn't want to bother to look for it. Too tired. As Rhoda might say. (Rhoda is the one in the wagon.)
Olivia is not at
all a morning person. I don't know if anybody really is. But she really isn't. And thankfully she's still little enough that her grumpiness is cute. Not wanting to kick her out of our bed (where the other three members of her family all sleep) and banish her to her own (lonely) bed, I try to adjust my positioning so that we can both share her small pillow comfortably. Morning logic, like morning hands, is almost unbelievably weak. Whatever I was thinking, this was impossible. And so in my attempt to be accommodating, albeit with little hope and heavily compromised motor functions, I inadvertently elbowed Olivia in the head. At least once. I also nearly scooted her off the bed entirely. To all of this, her grumpy reply was "Why are you pushing me?" And then she promptly walked back to her bed. I think mostly just to show her disgust. I was relieved. But she had taken her pillow back with her. I reasoned that I would get better sleep with no pillow and more space than a with a child's pillow AND a child. So I was content. Until Olivia decided a few minutes later to assert her disgust in a more forceful way. She returned to the bed and crawled over me so that she was positioned in the middle and I was the one on the end. Then over the course of what could have been anywhere from 1 to 30 minutes (I was still in haze of tired) she gradually edged me off the bed. Finally I stood up, thinking that I may as well spare some focused effort and reposition her--perhaps even find that big pillow I was too lazy to look for last night. But when I stood up she said, almost cheerfully, "Daddy, you can go do your work now."
I realized then that there wasn't much point in me trying to get back to sleep. I would need to wake up in a few minutes anyway to get breakfast ready since I am fasting. So I let her have her victory. This time.
Ten minutes later I heard the wailing of a banshee. I knew that banshee was Elsie, so I ignored it. It fell back asleep. Elsie is a loud child. I say that purely objectively. I don't know why. One theory may be that she has to fight harder for attention than Olivia did. I think it's just her nature. Some people are loud people. Some people are quieter. I am sure that when Elsie is a grown up she will also be loud. She will sing loudly. She will laugh loudly. She will cry loudly. And she will probably talk loudly.
I have noticed a few interesting things about Elsie's morning routine: She likes to wake up and nurse. If she wakes up to find herself not nursing, she cries. If she cries and that cry is not stopped by a breast full of milk, she screams like a banshee. If she screams like a banshee and she is still not nursed, she either screams louder until it is almost unbearable, or falls back asleep.
This routine is altered slightly if I am in the bed and Liz is up. In this scenario Elsie looks at me as if I have stolen something. Then she says (in sort of a half cry) "Mama. Mama." Then she points. Then she cries. Then I put her on the floor and she walks to Liz while crying.
But the part of her routine that I enjoy the most (and it may only last for a few days--who knows) is that once she is properly awake and properly nursed, she goes all by herself to the bookshelf and takes out her baby books (which Liz has placed right at her level) and she reads. She goes through her books page by page and makes sounds. Which is what people do when they read. So I imagine this is what Elsie is attempting. You can do it Banshee baby! We love you!
Olivia is not at
all a morning person. I don't know if anybody really is. But she really isn't. And thankfully she's still little enough that her grumpiness is cute. Not wanting to kick her out of our bed (where the other three members of her family all sleep) and banish her to her own (lonely) bed, I try to adjust my positioning so that we can both share her small pillow comfortably. Morning logic, like morning hands, is almost unbelievably weak. Whatever I was thinking, this was impossible. And so in my attempt to be accommodating, albeit with little hope and heavily compromised motor functions, I inadvertently elbowed Olivia in the head. At least once. I also nearly scooted her off the bed entirely. To all of this, her grumpy reply was "Why are you pushing me?" And then she promptly walked back to her bed. I think mostly just to show her disgust. I was relieved. But she had taken her pillow back with her. I reasoned that I would get better sleep with no pillow and more space than a with a child's pillow AND a child. So I was content. Until Olivia decided a few minutes later to assert her disgust in a more forceful way. She returned to the bed and crawled over me so that she was positioned in the middle and I was the one on the end. Then over the course of what could have been anywhere from 1 to 30 minutes (I was still in haze of tired) she gradually edged me off the bed. Finally I stood up, thinking that I may as well spare some focused effort and reposition her--perhaps even find that big pillow I was too lazy to look for last night. But when I stood up she said, almost cheerfully, "Daddy, you can go do your work now."I realized then that there wasn't much point in me trying to get back to sleep. I would need to wake up in a few minutes anyway to get breakfast ready since I am fasting. So I let her have her victory. This time.
Ten minutes later I heard the wailing of a banshee. I knew that banshee was Elsie, so I ignored it. It fell back asleep. Elsie is a loud child. I say that purely objectively. I don't know why. One theory may be that she has to fight harder for attention than Olivia did. I think it's just her nature. Some people are loud people. Some people are quieter. I am sure that when Elsie is a grown up she will also be loud. She will sing loudly. She will laugh loudly. She will cry loudly. And she will probably talk loudly.
I have noticed a few interesting things about Elsie's morning routine: She likes to wake up and nurse. If she wakes up to find herself not nursing, she cries. If she cries and that cry is not stopped by a breast full of milk, she screams like a banshee. If she screams like a banshee and she is still not nursed, she either screams louder until it is almost unbearable, or falls back asleep.
This routine is altered slightly if I am in the bed and Liz is up. In this scenario Elsie looks at me as if I have stolen something. Then she says (in sort of a half cry) "Mama. Mama." Then she points. Then she cries. Then I put her on the floor and she walks to Liz while crying.
But the part of her routine that I enjoy the most (and it may only last for a few days--who knows) is that once she is properly awake and properly nursed, she goes all by herself to the bookshelf and takes out her baby books (which Liz has placed right at her level) and she reads. She goes through her books page by page and makes sounds. Which is what people do when they read. So I imagine this is what Elsie is attempting. You can do it Banshee baby! We love you!
10 March 2010
09 March 2010
Who's Got the Power?
The power to dance, that is?
PBS has an animated show called "Super Why," in which four characters with watermelon-shaped heads explore phonetics and the "power to read."
The theme song is rather catchy, and we've molded it to our own desires, using it at times to encourage Olivia to get ready for the day or to make a rather mundane task seem more exciting. The basic lyrics are as follows:
The other morning, I caught an impromptu dance session with Olivia performing, accompanied by her father singing a rather interesting version of the Super Why song. First, the performance:
PBS has an animated show called "Super Why," in which four characters with watermelon-shaped heads explore phonetics and the "power to read."
The theme song is rather catchy, and we've molded it to our own desires, using it at times to encourage Olivia to get ready for the day or to make a rather mundane task seem more exciting. The basic lyrics are as follows:
Who's got the power, the power to [insert task]?
Who answers the call of friends in need?
Super Olivia! Super Olivia,
She's [insert some sort of exciting virtue associated with said task],
She's Super Olivia!
The other morning, I caught an impromptu dance session with Olivia performing, accompanied by her father singing a rather interesting version of the Super Why song. First, the performance:
Now, the lyrics:
Olivia Carmel, the power to spin,
Who can really move it and dance it around?
Olivia-a!
She has the ability to make cool spinny moves and spin around!
Ye-eah! Olivia Carmel,
She can do it in all directions!
Go-go! Olivia!
She's our dancing little girl.
Oh, yeah! Olivia!
She's so big and has the ability to dance!
We also had another go at it, with even greater lyrics (if not as much spinning):
Olivia Carmel, the power to dance,
The power to spin, the power to mo-ve.
Olivia! Olivia Carmel!
Many different tempos of beat.
Olivia!
Different levels: low and high
And spinning and not spinning.
All kinds of things Olivia can do:
She can move, and she dances great dancing [indistinct]
Yeah, yeah! Olivia!
Go, Olivia Carmel, do the dance!
I love my husband - he is the master of impromptu fun. I must, however, add a disclaimer - this one is particularly for Gramma, who has a very refined ear in terms of singing - Gramma, this is NOT Nathan's normal singing voice. He is simply copying the style of the Super Why song. Just so you don't worry about voice placement and tone. Love you! : )
07 March 2010
Bird Songs
We love birds. For the past two years, a noisy mourning dove has nested in the branches of the tree outside of our window. Either that, on on the roof, but the tree image is so much more romantic, don't you think? We hear our birds in the spring and summer, and sometimes in the fall, but they move away for the winter, and although we think sometimes about them, we are more interested in warm and cosy inside things.
That being said, I was tickled pink when I heard the mourning dove's familiar coo two mornings ago.
Nathan and I have been getting up early for the Baha'i Fast, which started last Tuesday and ends in about two weeks, because we have to make breakfast and eat it all before the sun rises. Here in Chicago, that's about 6:16 (at least this morning), and it gets about a minute sooner each day. This morning, the sky is a beautiful palette of creamy orange fading into a greyish purple. How orange can fade into purple, only the sky can tell you. I'm staving off this morning's chores of dishes and sweeping and tidying by reflecting on the beauty of the mornings, but soon I will have to dive into the work - we have Baha'i children's classes at our house later this morning, and I will need some physical and mental space to prepare for the rush of pancake-eating, rough-and-tumble children.
Maybe we will talk about birds...
That being said, I was tickled pink when I heard the mourning dove's familiar coo two mornings ago.
Nathan and I have been getting up early for the Baha'i Fast, which started last Tuesday and ends in about two weeks, because we have to make breakfast and eat it all before the sun rises. Here in Chicago, that's about 6:16 (at least this morning), and it gets about a minute sooner each day. This morning, the sky is a beautiful palette of creamy orange fading into a greyish purple. How orange can fade into purple, only the sky can tell you. I'm staving off this morning's chores of dishes and sweeping and tidying by reflecting on the beauty of the mornings, but soon I will have to dive into the work - we have Baha'i children's classes at our house later this morning, and I will need some physical and mental space to prepare for the rush of pancake-eating, rough-and-tumble children.
Maybe we will talk about birds...
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