How quickly she grows

Abigail was gone all weekend to the beach with Nana and Pops. It was very nice not having a child to be responsible for, especially since I had a cold and could sleep as much as I wanted. I started to get anxious today when she was supposed to be getting home, but overall, I wasn't desperately sad that she wasn't there. It's exhausting working and trying to be somewhat of a stay-home mom, so sleep was very nice.

But when I went home for dinner tonight and saw that sweet little girl running to me, I realized how empty life is without her -- even well rested. I just wanted to hold her close for a long time, though of course she's three, and staying still isn't her strong suit. But she did give me a glorious, exuberant hug when I got home, saying joyfully, "I missed (and here, I expected "you, Mommy!") 'Dragon Tales'!" She then jumped down and ran back to the TV. Don't I feel loved! At least Brad's in the same boat. When she went running to him with a giant hug, all she said was, "Where's Mommy?" But she's a very happy kid, so we don't doubt she likes us.

When she is gone, even just for a few days, it seems like she grows exponentially. She just seems bigger, able to speak better. My little baby no longer. I even donated her stroller to a Hurricane Katrina evacuee family last week. Heck if she'll be inclined to sit still rather than walk anymore!

Still Jumping in my memories

A large part of my youth took a bow and exited stage left last night.

I went to my likely last-ever Jump, Little Children concert last night. I had a great time, laughing with Brad and hearing some great music, but it was a bittersweet evening.

I first discovered JLC driving home for the first time freshman year of college, Thanksgiving 1995. I was somewhere on I-85 in north Georgia and had picked up an Athens station. It was a live, in-studio session with a band with an unlikely combination of instruments: upright bass, cello, harmonica, accordion ... They were playing this wonderful song that belted out "Whoever you are you've gone to far 'cause I need my precious peace and (in a whipser) quiet." I heard one more song, which I later learned was "Dancing Virginia," and found out they were JLC from Charleston. Then I lost the station. When I got back to school, I went straight out to Manifest and picked up Licorice Tea Demos and fell in love. "Quiet," "Dancing Virginia," "Opium," "Smiling Down" ... I don't think I disliked a single song. And it didn't hurt that a friend had also just discovered them from crew, or that my suitemate dug it, too.

My first JLC show was on the shore of Lake Hartwell, where I picked up a shirt and all of the band members signatures. Wish I still had that. I also tried to be cool and talk to the bassist, which probably failed completely, but that didn't stop me from trying at later shows. I went to eight in all, which I didn't realize until I tallied them all up yesterday: Lake Hartwell, The Handlebar in Greenville, CenterCity Fest in Charlotte, a place in Athens I don't remember the name of, Tiger Town Tavern in Clemson, a place in Greenville I don't remember the name of, a double-header at the Visualite in Charlotte, and Tremont in Charlotte. I think three of those were within one 12 month span my senior year. My favorite was probably Athens, where they played for more than two hours and showed a home-made slasher flick, though I also loved the Tiger Town show right before graduation, where I somewhat successfully chatted with the cellist about Europe.

Sadly, this show didn't rank really high. Maybe the club was too hot, maybe it's because Charlotte sucks and has no soul, but they were lacking in their trademark energy. The basisst didn't really jump, the cellist didn't do bizarre things with his tongue, the lead singer hardly spoke. They seemed really distant from the crowd, a huge departure from normal. They played great, and the crazy one that plays all the weird instruments read a story I'd put on the "yearbook" on their website, but it was still a let down. They didn't play anything from Licorice Tea or Buzz. Very, very disappointing. I have never been to a show where they didn't end with "Opium" or I didn't get to jump up and down and do the moon dance with "Smiling Down." And no "Cathedrals"! They seemed in a big rush to get it over with, not a good impression to leave with dedicated fans on a farewell tour. At the other shows, you could tell that performing was the biggest joy in their lives.

Jump was the soundtrack to my youth. Watching them take a final bow last night, I honestly felt an era in my life was ending.

Lovely Rita, meter maid

Just to keep the theme going, Aunt Joyce and Uncle Tom evacuated their Houston-area home at midnight Monday, along with their younger daughter Nikki, older dauther Amy and her family, and poor cousin Lea, who was sent to Houston after her college in Gulfport was wiped out. They're safely ensconsed in a Dallas-area hotel, though of course Houston doesn't seem likely to take the brunt of Rita. At least they left early and weren't stuck in the nightmarish traffic.

Now, what's next -- a tornado plowing through Aunt Kay and Uncle Dave in Illinois?

From Lowly beginnings

When you have a 3-year-old, you find yourself being tormented with the very thing you loved/tormented your parents with as a child. Currently, Abigail is fixated on The Berenstain Bears, which was probably my favorite picture book series. Not a huge consolation when having to read "Messy Room" for the millionth time, but still, nice to see the generations build upon each other.

The previous favorite implement of torture was Richard Scarry's "Best First Book Ever." I'm sure we all remember the precocious humor of Richard Scarry (visit this incredibly funny bio, it's great!) -- and the seemingly infinite words on the page labeling everything. Good ol' Lowly Worm and Huckle Cat. My personal favorite as a child was "Busy, Busy World," where Scarry explored countries from Ireland to Algeria to China. (Sadly, it appears this book is too politically incorrect and has been pulled from print. Guess I'll have to eBay it!) It's amazing now to realize how young my fascination with travel and culture began. Those drawings were probably what first put into my head that there was a great big world out there I needed to visit. I still want to see Morrocco -- where I firmly believe I'll meet a fez-wearing dog named Couscous.

La nueva profesora

I have neglected to follow through with the last chapter in the Spanish class saga. I added back the class and now thoroughly enjoy it. The new professor is very engaging, very personable, and most of all, so very competent. She had a Spanish grandfather, lived a while in Spain as a kid, did her master's in Spain, and is mistaken for a Spaniard when she visits. That's a very good sign. And she's German, which of course means she's amazing at languages. I'll definitely learn a lot now -- and enjoy myself doing it.

Ah, those endearing milestones

I am so proud of my little girl. She's 3 years old now, and it's just a joy to watch her. Well, when she's not whining at me all the way through Wal-Mart. But it's fascinating to see her grow into a little girl from a toddler, and her latest achievements are very exciting. (Attention, new photos at end of post.)

The most recent was yesterday. Abigail, in all her sweetness, pushed over her milk at dinner. Mommy and Daddy had been in a rather involved conversation, and she'd had enough. Well, so have Mommy and Daddy of the milk being knocked over. This incident was met with much vociferous scolding and the revocation of ice cream for desert. This is a serious consequence, perhaps the most in her little life. Kid loves ice cream. So she started crying, screaming, giant crocodile tears streaming down her cheeks. Mommy and Daddy just kept repeating, "No. You know not to knock over your milk. No ice cream," and clearing the table, ignoring the tantrum as we've read in countless advice articles. And you know what, damned if it didn't work! Abigail calmed herself down and then came sniffling over to me and said, "I'm sorry, Mommy. I didn't mean to knock over my milk (which she pronounces adorably as 'nilk')." Regaining of self-control AND a spontaneous apology. And she never again asked for ice cream, quite contentedly getting back in her booster seat and eating a clementine. I was amazed. I almost wanted to reward her with ice cream ...

The much more monumentous accomplishment is often met with groans from my coworkers, but it is by far the most exciting thing to happen to me in year. Drum roll, please ...

My child is potty trained.

YES!!!! IT'S THRILLING!!!! Pretty soon I will no longer have to talk about pee-pee and poo-poo in everyday conversation! We will no longer go through Resolve like water!

This has been quite the process, largely because Mommy and Daddy have been very lazy and haven't pushed her. So finally, about four weeks ago, we just got rid of diapers during waking hours. Cold turkey -- and much cold pee on the carpet. She knew what to do and that she wasn't doing it, but she just didn't care. She'd be dancing around the room, crossing her legs, obviously in discomfort, but you'd put her on the potty and read three books and she'd never go. Very frustrating. But then, during her third birthday party, I coaxed her into the bathroom, away from the bustle of family. We didn't even get halfway through a book when I heard a beautiful tinkling sound. ... She looked up at me with wide-eyed wonder and said, "Mommy, I went pee-pee." I gave her a huge hug and told her how proud I was, and then we ran out into the living room where she anounced gleefully, at the top of her lungs, "Everybody, I WENT PEE-PEE!" And a huge cheer goes up from the crowd ...

Since then, about a week and a half, we got her to go about once every three days. Then something aparently clicked three days ago, and she's now been consistently going before naptime and bedtime for me. And today, she even told me she needed to go. I'm so happy I could cry.

And now the photos:

"I love my party hat."

Abigial chose the theme for her party by herself, Winnie the Pooh. She wore this hat for at least an hour and had a line under her chin for the rest of the night to prove it. Mommy came up with a lovely honey pot shaped layer cake, which Abbey proclaimed was a square cake and would hear nothing of this honey pot business.

Presents!

This kid made out like a bandit. Grandma was an especially generous sucker.

My box

Just thought this was a funny face -- not unlike ones I made myself at her age, the "Expression of the day."

The new tricycle

What a way to end a party, get a new set of wheels. And Nana and Pops chose a particularly cool retro Radio Flyer trike.

Update

For what it's worth, the fate of those I knew in the path of Katrina:

Katrinna's Mandeville, La., apartment had some water damage, but from the storm, not flooding, and her cat was safely rescued and taken back to Greer a couple days after the storm. Poor Trinna, this wasn't her August. She also had surgery for endometriosis, during which they discovered she had cancer in her appendix. She turns 29 Wednesday. Thankfully, the cancer had not spread, but she still has to have more surgery to remove other bits of her person to prevent the cancer from coming back. Then comes a storm that will no doubt be mentioned every time she introduces herself for decades.

Aunt Debbie and Uncle Ken fared remarkably well. They had minimal damage to their Gulfport home and were ready to welcome their flooded-out brother's family with their two generators. They already have their land-line phone back, and the nearby Sam's reoppened on a limited basis a few days ago. I'm sure they're still quite hot, and it can't be pleasant bathing and doing laundry in a swimming pool, but not bad at all, considering. My cousin Lea is heading to our aunt's house in Houston to enroll in college there since her communinty college is probably not in the greatest shape.

And mom was peachy, though she had to fly to and drive from Tallahassee on her way back to Pensacola from the big 3rd birthday party last weekend. She was out of power for maybe 12 hours, not even enough time for all the air conditioning to wear off.

Careful, you'll get whiplash

Yesterday, I had quite the rant about my disappointing Spanish class. I've always been one that hates to inconvenience others and will just suck up negative events, but not this time. I wrote an e-mail, and well, most definitely got a response ...

(sent at 4:36 p.m.)
Heather,

Thank you very much for writing and sharing your concerns about the 201 class. I discussed the problem with the instructor, and she has decided not to teach for us. Incidently all of our part-time faculty members have to meet specific criteria because of our accreditation with the Southern Association. And, of course, Dr. xxx was qualified due to her educational and professional experiences.

You will be happy to learn that the instructor for the 5:00 class has been changed to Dr. xxx xxx, Associate Professor of Spanish. Dr. xxx is a full-time professor in the department.

If you have any additional concerns, please do not hesitate to share them with me or with the Dean, Dr. xxx xxx.

Again, thank you for contacting me.

xxx xxx

-----Original Message-----
Sent: Wednesday, August 24, 2005 11:26 AM

Dr. xxx,

I am writing to express my outrage at the incredibly poor teaching quality I saw in my Spanish 201 class with xxx xxx. I am a graduate of Clemson University, class of 1999 valedictorian with a degree in English and French, and now a professional non-degree seeking student who hoped to later go on for a master's in Spanish. I was stunned by what I saw in this class, including improper conjugation of "llamar" and incorrect instructions on article agreement in superlatives. Several students in the class, all of whom, including myself, have only Spanish 102 knowledge, were correcting her. Her pedagogy was attrocious: She read exercises to us to write down, had us repeat them so she could write them on the board without the answers, then rewrote the complete sentences again with the answers. It was painfully slow, and frankly, I could teach myself from the book just as easily and more quickly. Students were practically laughing at her in disbelief.

I have spent a great deal of time arranging my work schedule and tuition reimbursement with my employer, The Herald, and was excited about taking this course and future studies at Winthrop. In my frustration, I have since dropped the class, the only section I could take. I heard several other students saying they planned to do the same. I would gladly add the course back if a different, qualified instructor were found by next week. At the moment I can only pity the undergraduates who need this course for credt -- which they will get while learning very little, possibly incorrect Spanish.

Sincerely,
Heather xxx

!Estoy furiosa!

Can't do the upsidedown exclamation point ...

I am so muy, muy ticked off!

I have been looking forward to taking Spanish 201 for several months -- if you don't count the three years since I took 102 and couldn't immediately continue. My company approved paying for tuition, and I have been reviewing heavily for a couple months, very excited about learning another language and a bit alarmed at what I'd forgotten. Today was the first day of classes at Winthrop (so mad, I don't want to link), and I was as giddy as a kindergartner. I'd even bought a special new tote bag for the occasion. All I was lacking were bows in my hair and a new lunchbox.

I asked alumni coworkers for the best place to park, zoomed right in on my dinner break, settled into my chair-and-desk-in-one, and anxiously looked around at the young'uns in my class. The teacher -- I refuse to call her professor -- started class, and at first I was just annoyed that she was a soft speaker and there was a roaring ventilation system. Then I could hear what she was saying ...

The woman was misconjugating me llamo, the most basic saying that even people who've never had a Spanish class know. She then proceeded to botch the language so severely, from a thick Southern accent to noun-adjective agreement to everything else, that students were correcting her. People were practically laughing at her. And her "teaching" style consisted of reading to us from a worksheet, having us then read back exactly what she'd said (including blanks and the words you were supposed to change), writing that on the board, then writing the actual answers -- again in full sentences -- on the board. Three sentences took 5 minutes at least. I was about to go out of my mind. I'm not conveying it fully, but it was horrible. A girl had spent the summer in the Dominican Republic, and she was in disbelief at what the woman was saying. I have no idea what the woman's credentials are, but they were sorely inadequate. I heard at least a few people saying they were going to drop -- including myself!

I was fuming! What a colossal waste of money and time! I KNOW I can teach myself better from my old Spanish book, then take the CLEP test, get credit for 201 and start with a REAL professor in a higher course in the spring. The class was more than $1,000, the book more than $160, and don't forget my registration fees and immunizations!

I have never been in such a horrible college class. The only class at Clemson that I thought was really bad was my English 203 class, where the teacher brought in a recording -- as in vinyl -- of "King Lear" and proceeded to play it for three days. As a result, I skipped my first ever class. I had no other classes where I just could not stand to sit through them over the rest of my four years (though I did skip occasionally after that). I feel so incredibly bad for the kids that need this Spanish credit specifically this semester and can't drop. But it would be absolutely absurd for me, a professional who already has a degree, to waste even one more hour in that class.

So I came back to work, complained to my coworkers, who had seen me glowing with excitement, and DROPPED THE DAMN COURSE.

I was so frustrated and mad I wanted to cry. I am so disappointed. Brad says I shouldn't drop but should e-mail the department head and demand a better teacher. I don't know if they could/would actually do that, but I am going to write the e-mail, whether I add the class back or not. Dear God, it was horrible.

something different, yet oddly reminiscent of recent posts

Your personality type is SCOAN

You are moderately social, calm, organized, accommodating, and moderately non-intellecutal, and may prefer a city which matches those traits.

The largest representation of your personality type can be found in the these U.S. cities: Reno, San Diego, Cleveland, Providence, Kansas City, Greenville/Spartanburg, Dallas/Ft. Worth, Orange County, Houston, Charlotte, Columbus and these international countries/regions Kazakhstan, India, South Korea, Ukraine, Taiwan, Hong Kong, Indonesia, Thailand, Romania, Russia, Norway, Switzerland, Middle East, Italy

What Places In The World Match Your Personality?
Powered by CityCulture.org

Two comments on this: There's Greenville/Spartanburg again. I think these things are trying to tell me something. Then again, comment number 2: Kazakhstan???

There but for the grace ...

Since Brad is quite into this at the moment, I thought I'd share my Myers-Briggs results, though they're slightly different from when we did this with marriage counseling. Of course, I've also become a very different person since then ...

ESFJ
Strengths: 11 percent Extroverted
25 percent Sensing
62 percent Feeling
56 percent Judging


* slightly expressed extrovert
* moderately expressed sensing personality
* distinctively expressed feeling personality
* moderately expressed judging personality

Provider Guardian
This seems fairly right, though I'm so slightly extroverted that the perfect hostess bit is a bit off. And I certainly can't see myself in sales! I have an incredibly sense of responsibility, a desire to be involved in things like church and charities to make a difference, and I definitely think I'm a giving person -- though perhaps too much sometimes, like always agreeing to switch my schedule for other people to be off. I'm a shy extrovert, for whatever sense that makes. I love being with people, I get depressed when I'm too alone and inactive, but I'm so incredibly nervous about meeting new people. I'm one of those hang on the side of the room with people you know types at parties, though I do enjoy having people over and the idea of dinner parties. Oh well, that's what happens when you try to pigeonhole people!

But as for what I'd do if I hadn't gone to college, that's a really scary question. I have experience in clerical stuff, but what I love is language and communication. While it's theoretically possible to become a journalist without at degree, they usually require you to complete one as you work, so I'm not sure that would count for this hypothetical. I'm not particularly good with my hands, so trades are out. I guess I might have gotten at two-year nursing degree, but I've never been that interested in biology.

It's a difficult thing to get your mind around, the idea of not going to college. My whole life was geared that way. When I was in junior high, I thought I would be a history professor. I was in honors classes where it wasn't a question of if you'd go to college but where. Heck, my whole high school was pretty much like that, something like 90 percent of us went on for some kind of higher education. Looking at the options that remain if you don't go, I feel bad for those who can't!

I do agree that there are many people in college who shouldn't be -- several business majors I knew come to mind, especially the infamous Jeremiah. Part of that stems from the coddled state of many middle- to upper-class children, though. They can't conceive of having to work for something. They've always just coasted and turned to mom and dad, so they coast through college with C's and a business degree and get some job that is just for them to make money and go on with the rest of their lives. Not to say there aren't passionate, hard-working business majors out there. You find people like this in almost any major. Girls at college for their MRS, guys there as a way to legitimize partying. It's sad, they are the ones that bring the rigor level of universities down.

It's a mania!

Wow, that city list thing just exploded, huh? I must say, though, seeing other people's lists, I definitely agree with Smitty that towns must have been paying to be on that site. Why else would so many people get Tulsa and Sheboygan? And Palm Springs, Calif., out of nowhere? Johnson City, Clarksville, Little Rock ... they're all suspicious. As my sister noted, where was New York? Or even Charlotte, for those of us with heavily Southeastern lists (not that I'm recommending it, really). Or Atlanta? Interestingly, all places people are already moving to ...

Anyway, that was fun! Thanks Chiff! Now you just need to add to the hilarity by posting pictures of that pimped-out car!

Home sweet home

According to this site, this is the list of top 24 cities for me. A friend did it with the purpose of finding a place to live, but I just did it for fun. These are so completely unsurprising! If I had come up with this list off the top of my head, many of the top 10 have been there anyway -- I've talked about Asheville and Roanoke since I was 18 -- uh, not Tulsa. But am I predictable or what? Sad thing is, if Brad did this survey, his answers would be NO WHERE NEAR MINE. Good thing reality isn't an Internet quiz.

1. Asheville, NC
2. Roanoke, VA
3. Chattanooga, TN
4. Brevard, NC
5. Johnson City-Kingston, TN
6. Greenville, SC
7. Hickory, NC
8. Boone, NC
9. Maryville, TN
10. Knoxville, TN
11. Tulsa, OK
12. Charlottesville, VA
13. Hendersonville, NC
14. Lynchburg, VA
15. Waynesville, NC
16. Clarksville, TN
17. Berea, KY
18. Culpeper, VA
19. Abingdon, VA
20. Morganton, NC
21. Clayton, GA -- the fruitcake place? maybe not
22. Gainsville, GA
23. Mount Airy, NC -- start whistling!
24. Palm Springs, CA -- where did that come from?!

Breaking news

And yet another way to keep tabs on Ayzair! For some of my better pages, check out my portfolio on News Page Designer. I just started playing with this tonight, so hopefully it will be updated and improved as things go along.

Extra, extra! Read all about it!

If anyone is curious about what I actually do for a living, go to Newseum.org. A very cool site, you can look up front pages from around the world, including an archive of monumental events, like Sept. 11, 2001. My paper just signed up to put our pages on there, so you can now keep occasional tabs on how I spend my nights. The page on there currently is mine (with a WWII vet), but they update daily and I only do the front twice a week. Anyway, fun stuff. Search by region for South Carolina and then Rock Hill.

Motherhood

A little anecdote to start this off. This afternoon, Abigail started begging her daddy to put on some music. Specifically The Cars. Kid loves her some Cars. And when I went home for dinner, what was on the stereo? The Cars. She wouldn't leave Daddy alone until he put it on. So at my house, the listening options include and are limited to The Cars and Bob the Builder.

On a sweeter note, Abigail came stumbling into our room very early one morning last week. A little "Mommy" alerted me to her presence, and I skooched over a bit so she could climb up next to me. I was so tired, I didn't even roll over to see what time it was. Abbey laid down on my arm with her blankies cuddled up to her face and promptly dosed back off. I just laid there watching her through half-closed eyes, feeling her twitch slightly each time sleep started to take over. She even cried out quietly once, fighting the sleep. I enjoyed the moment for a few minutes -- the first time she's ever crawled into bed with me and not immediately started kicking and telling me to get up -- before mustering the energy to pick her up and put her back in her own bed. Thankfully, she slept another couple of hours, but wasn't a bad early wake up call after all.

The overwhelming flood of love for my child still sometimes surprises me. This will sound horrible, but I really didn't connect to her very quickly. For months she was a responsibility that was sometimes cute, but I really didn't have a strong emotion toward her. I left her that first day in the NICU without tears. I visited her twice a day for those five weeks, but I mainly got bored and sleepy. I was incredibly guilty about this for a long time. I think part of it was post-partum depression, if that can kick in two months after the fact, and part was how small Abbey was, just sleeping for months. And I'm sure not knowing a soul in Charlotte didn't help. The early baby months were extremely difficult emotionally, up until about 6 months when she started to get responsive. I loved her, but it wasn't this consuming desire to squeeze her tight and kiss her. Well, when she's not tired and grumpy, when I then want to hand her over to Nana and happily wave good-bye!

A big plate of pasketti

A question for my linguistic connections. It seems that every small child calls spaghetti pasketti. My sister did, Abbey does, it's a common joke about small children. What is this word so universally bungled? Is sp a late-developing phonetic combination? And the real question, do Italian children do the same thing? Or does the accent and gesturing preserve them from that fate?

A budding musician?

When you're nearly 3, there are many things you want to try. And though you may watch Mommy blow across the mouthpiece, heck if you can figure out quite how she does it. Somehow, the whole "blow across a bottle" analogy doesn't work, either.

abbey
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

"Hmm, I think this is how she was holding it. Let's see ..."

abbey2
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

"Maybe if I flip it around this way, Alpine style."

abbey3
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

"Here, Pink Duckie, let me show you."

Keepin' it in the family

Well, fresh London bombings mean a fresh link to Ayzair's family. This time, it was my sister's work tube stop that was involved, Warren Street. Obviously, she's fine. But if you know me, watch your back! You never know what new catastrophe will somehow be connected to me and mine!

Behind the scenes of history

While many of you may have seen what appeared to be a suppressed smile or laugh by John Roberts, the Supreme Court nominee, I doubt many news outlets showed you why. I initially though it was just an effort not to grin like an idiot thinking, "I'm nominated to the Supreme Court! I'm nominated to the Supreme Court!" But no, it was little Jack. Frankly, I'm surprised there wasn't more commotion. Though I did notice they never panned to the kids when Roberts was talking about them later -- no doubt they'd been yanked out of the room long before ...

SCOTUS BUSH
Originally uploaded by HFBW.

President Bush introduces his nominee for the Supreme Court, John G. Roberts Jr., left, as his son John, dances, and wife Jane and daughter Josephine, look on in the State Dining Room at the White House, Tuesday, July 19, 2005, in Washington. President Bush chose federal appeals court judge John G. Roberts Jr. on Tuesday as his first nominee for the Supreme Court, selecting a rock solid conservative whose nomination could trigger a tumultuous battle over the direction of the nation's highest court. (AP Photo/Charles Dharapak)