lollardfish

This is my littlest niece Zoe singing lullabies to Nico on Saturday night at Thanksgiving. Perhaps the sweetest moment ever. She's singing:

"Hush little baby don't say a word
Daddy's gonna buy you a mommy-bird.
And if that mommy-bird won't sing
Daddy's gonna buy you a diamond ring.
And if that diamond ring turns brass
Mommy's gonna buy you a looking glass.
And if that looking glass gets broke
Mommy's gonna by you a billy-goat
And if that billy goat runs away
Daddy's gonna buy you another one some day."

I need cost-of-living data for mid-19th-century urban France.

Google is failing me.

There is a certain snarky line of reasoning that sneers at the phrase, "World Series," saying that it is just another typical example of American over-reaching. How could it be the "world" series when only American teams play?

When confronted with this snark, some point out that it was named after the New York World newspaper, but this is a myth.

( Read more... )

All of which is to say, go Red Sox!

Sometimes I notice that I am constantly exposing myself, emotionally speaking (ahem), in my day-to-day existence. It wasn't that I was so guarded before, but now ... it's everyday that I open my heart. This may not be positive.

It happens in the moment of disclosure. I work it in fast. Mostly, those to whom I speak are too busy dealing with their own reactions to my studiously calm, practiced, off-handed, statement, "My son has Down Syndrome, and ..." to notice. I take that "and" and launch into some story of medical concerns, developmental stages, explanations as to why one thing or the other is happening, stories about playtime with other children, really anything. I want people to know, I want to get it over with, so that we can move on to whatever the conversation is. But I don't want to deny it, hide it, or ever appear to conceal the fact that my son has Down Syndrome. So I drop it quickly in new conversations, putting a practiced-face over the fears.

( Read more... )

A couple thoughts. First, a few people have pointed out that the big positive is that we know our childcare provider will go to bat for Nico. It's great to know that. Second, one of the things is that Shannon and I, and more importantly, Nico, are likely to encounter this again and again in our lives. We need to find ways to prepare for that.

Boston: Airplane!

( On second thought, maybe I do want a pickle )

( Or perhaps a ride on a motorcycle )

In other news, if you put our little boy in the baby swing and give him a little push, he knows how to rock forward and backward to maintain momentum and direction. It's pretty neat. Whole sequence of pictures starts here.

Some of the literature I've come across on "difference" - race, gender, sexuality, class, and so forth - has talked a lot about gaze and vision. This is English professor land, a place where mild-mannered medieval historians fear to trade. I don't remember much of it (this was as an undergraduate). I think I "got it" at the time, but I've since filled my mind with very different types of thoughts and analysis.

Anyway, I've been thinking about disability and my vision.

( A few thoughts )

So there we were, driving back from Gigi's Playhouse, a pretty terrific place, and the rain started a little. As we approached the ramp to the highway, however, suddenly the wind started to pick up. I looked up at a big glass office tower, and could see the wind moving in big gusts, sideways, fast. The car shook. The air suddenly filled with leaves and twigs. I said, "Maybe we should ride this out." Shannon said, "We could wait in a store or something?" I said, "Let's go shopping!" Shannon, "Words I never thought I'd hear you utter."

We actually went into a big parking garage that seemed stable and basement-like. We pulled out our cellphones to check the weather, and discovered that in fact a tornado was heading down the Eisenhower Expressway to intersect with 294 - highways we would have been at in about 20 minutes - before heading into Oak Park and the vicinity. Afterwards, it'd move on to Indiana. So we waited for 45 minutes in the garage, then had a snack (Shannon was starving and traffic was at a standstill, and got home around 5:30. Thirty minutes later, a severe thunderstorm rolled through and pummelled more of the region. There are lots of people without power, and we are thankful not to be among them. Our cable is out - so no internets at home, but through the good graces of the coffee shop, we're online.

No damage to our building or our things, but the same can't be said for others.