Choking is not okay

Firstly, Rosie is okay.

Rosie's daycare just called me today to let me know that another child choked her this morning. The way they described the incident is that Rosie was quietly reading a book and a boy in her class demanded it from her. She was still reading it, so she said no. So, he choked her!

The director explained that the teachers, the parent, and he were all in lengthy meetings today to discuss how to handle this, because apparently this boy has had other aggressive physical incidents.

I asked if the child was pulled from school for the day and no, he wasn't. Apparently, each time this child has acted out, he has told his mother that he was provoked first, even though his teachers and other observers (there was a parent in the room this morning) did not see any
provocation. Each time, the mother believed the child instead of the teachers, the director or other observers. Provoked or not, choking is seriously anti-social behavior!

I understand that this would be a hard situation if it was my child was choking other children, but parental denial is not productive. We have worked with Rosie on the few, minor hitting incidents she's had; she knows that if her teachers tell us about any hitting or being mean to a
friend, her at-home priviledges are revoked (snacks, TV, etc.). Nothing has been reported to us for months.

I'll be following up with this to see what will be done; the next step is disenrollment for the choker. I feel badly that Rosie still had to be in school with him all day after he attacked her! Poor Rosie.

Happy birthday Kelly & Heather!

I wish you both the most excellent of days! And it sounds like you had a kick-ass celebration in NJ! Rock on and keep living large!
xo, Ms. Nylon

Dash and Rosie, each at 18 months

At Dashiell's 18-month appt (on 12/27/06),
he weighed 24 lbs, 14 oz (40th%)
he was 32 1/4 inches tall (50th%)
and his head was 19 inches around (65th%)

When Rosie was 18 months (5/27/04),
she weighed 26 lbs (75th%)
she was 32 1/4 inches tall (75th%)
and her head was 18 3/4 inches around (90th%)

We like to eat. Mostly.

Despite the idyllic dinnertime scene that these photos convey, dining in our household can be a stressful time. Of course, Dash eats most anything and AJS cooks fantastic, sometimes exotic, fare (many of my friends would love to have such a cook at home!); it's Rosie that usually turns things sour.

We are trying ways of expanding her menu -- she is super-picky and only eats a few select items. I can't remember the last new food that she has tried. What you see her eating is plain spaghetti and edamame, which are some of Rosie's staples.

The rule is that we offer her a small selection of foods and from them, she must have at least one starch, one protein, and one vegetable. Lately, our tack has been to threaten to take away privileges (TV, books before bed) if she doesn't have a balanced meal. She, in turn, negotiates with us, telling us that if we give her kisses and hugs, she'll eat, and then says that she's full if we don't give her a fourth serving of rice (without tasting any chicken). Sigh.

I'll let you know if we have any breakthroughs!

The importance of trivia

A post on an acquaintance's blog prompted a memory of how necessary it is for the brain to become sidetracked. In 2001, I lived, worked, and played in DC. A few days after 9/11, all our friends were completely freaked, depressed, or just drinking heavily. For some reason, amongst all this horror, an email thread between several of us sparked a ridiculously trivial question: do blue foods exist? Many bizarre, goofy, wonderful arguments later, everyone latched on for dear life and came away feeling much better. Here is the only excerpt that I saved (because it was a brilliant contribution by my dear AJS):

See, we still haven't refined our distinctions of either "blueness" or "foodness." Do we exclude man-made comestibles? If so, we have to exclude the cheeses because they don't occur naturally without some manipulation on the part of a sentient being familiar with the black art of curd fermentation (viz, the cheesemaker). Similar situation with the Kool Aids and blue curacaos and the blue part of the tricolor Bingo Bomb Pops they sell on the Mall in the summer.

But what of the naturally occurring blue foods? Using Mlle. Wyman's trialectic, if it's blue on the vine, bowl, and fingers, we should consider it a blue food. But therein lies a faulty syllogism.

For the moment, let's pretend you're Professor Peabody and you've just set the Wayback Machine for April 1789. You're trapped on board the life raft of the H.M.S. Bounty with Captain Bligh, and he just so happens to have a gangrenous blue-inked tattoo of the word "blue" on his left buttock. And for the sake of argument, let's say he's got the word "point" tattooed on his right buttock, to remind him of his favorite species of oyster. This, the result of a bar bet gone horribly awry.

Everybody on board, even brave Little Pip, is slowly starving to death. Now, by La Wyman's rationale, the captain's left buttock could be considered "blue food," in the sense of being edible (albeit revolting); being tattooed the color blue; turning blue from gangrene; being a written representation of the word "blue," and blue in the sense of involving full frontal (or in this case, rear) nudity. And I can say without hyperbole that this is the most ridiculous argument I've ever made.

Have I told you how much more fun this is than actually working?

New Year: 2007!

This weekend was fabulous, excepting a few blips. On new year's eve, I took the kids to Kellygo's house for a combo birthday party-new year bash. It was a fun evening! Once there, I set the kids free to play with their friends (thank god they're up to that now!), baked brownies, drank wine and chatted with other adults. Highlights: Dash somehow tipped over a bottle of blue-raspberry syrup from a shelf in the kitchen and the blue juice shot across the floor into the dining room (freshly painted a bright orange), splashing several guests and the wall that was a good 20 feet away; Rosie kept herself surrounded by Thea's plush horses at all times; and at one point I scanned the room to catch Dash standing behind Lila on a chair -- I had no idea that he could climb on a chair! He has since tried this new skill at home. New year's eve with my friends and our kids is at 7 p.m., (to make tots' bedtimes) and for years now, we have been practicing a Panamanian ritual with grapes, wishes, jumping and kissing as the ball drops. Kelly explains this ritual in more detail on her blog. AJS spent the day hanging out with some highschool buddies; he was home by 6:30 p.m. (must have been a blast, recounting old times).

On Wednesday, I had ordered blinds (yes, how boring, I know) and AJS picked them up on Friday. Monday, hoping to have new window treatments for the new year, I squirreled the tots away with my parents and planned to be drilling and mounting for the rest of the afternoon. So, after reading instructions, getting out the proper implements of destruction, and removing the voluminous, yellowish-greenish jaquard drapes that came with the house, I learned that the hardware kit was missing some necessary components. Aaauuuggh. Now the very large front window has no covering. Whatever, we're not privacy freaks. It'll have to wait till next weekend.

And a bit of slapstick: while Dash was with my parents, my dad strapped him into a stroller before taking him on a walk. Then, he went to look for something in his car? the garage? That's when my mom stepped out of the house to shut the garage door and noticed that Dash's stroller was rolling down the driveway! Screaming, she ran out of the garage to get him -- forgetting that she had just hit the button on the garage door, so -- WHAM!! Smack in the middle of her forehead and she's down! Meanwhile, with all the screaming, my dad caught on to his grandson's predicament and saved the boy before he was in harm's way. My mom's fine; she had a lump and some redness. But, it was hard to keep a straight face while she told the story. :-)