Gamer

Eva won’t keep her mitts out of the game cupboard.  At first she was only interested in Pit.  She would dump all of the cards onto the floor and carry around the bell shouting, “Ding!”  I tried to show her that the bell would ding on its own if she would set it down and tap the button.  She wasn’t interested in my tutorial and preferred practicing ventriloquism and creating her own dinging noise. Every day she would fetch the bell and every night I would return it to its home in the cupboard.  This went on for a couple of weeks until she transitioned to other games.  I realize now that Pit was a gateway game.

This week she’s been carrying around the buzzer from Taboo.  She named it, “My special purple present with the red button,” and she wanders around buzzing it all day.  That’s not an annoying sound to have in the background.  For a few days I patiently carried on the same routine as with the Pit bell and didn’t interfere with her new hobby. 

When will I learn that I should always interfere?

A couple of days ago Eva went on an intense search for a new instrument of annoyance.   She pilfered something from nearly every game we own. 

She chose the timer from Catch Phrase and the card tray from Mille Bornes.

    

The tiny white and red pieces from Battleship were a good choice.

And all of the checkers from Connect Four.

The colorful pawns from Sorry are loads of fun.

Don’t overlook the oddly-shaped die and the cringe-inducing timer from Scattergories.  Sidebar: When I was picking up all the loose papers from Scattergories, I found a game sheet that my brother Jameson had used.  He had written, “Lewie smells like poo,” on the top of the paper.  Based on that, you’d probably call me a liar if I told you that Jameson is the most intelligent of my siblings.  He is.  (And Lewie only sometimes smells like poo.)

 

One must never forget her roots; that loyal bell from Pit.

When she was finished our house looked like it had been tossed by a masked intruder.  Unfortunately, I won’t be inviting you over for game night anytime soon since all of our games have been through war and are now missing limbs.   

I confronted Eva about the mess and this is what she had to say:

 

Clearly we don’t own any games that teach penitence. 

Is there an app for that? 

Take a Moment

I babysat my friend’s deaf 2-year-old yesterday.  I had a lot of anxiety leading up to it since I don’t know sign language.  I wondered how I would possibly be able to communicate with her and entertain her.  I worried that she would have a miserable time and wondered what kinds of things deaf children even like to do.  I had a stomachache in the morning knowing that she was coming over.  I tried to explain to Eva that our friend is deaf.  I should have just made my speech to the dog since Eva blankly stared at me, waited for me to stop talking, then said something about Sesame Street.  Worse yet, when the little girl’s mom explained to her that she would be coming over to my house, the poor thing clung to her mom’s leg as if it was a lone branch on a cliffside. I couldn’t even reassure the girl by telling a joke or insisting that I’m a likeable gal - I have approximately 2 friends after all. (If I round up.)  I stood there like a ninny wondering what I should do.  The fear in the girl’s eyes made me realize this was going to be a catastrophe.

I first met this little girl when she was only a few months old and I instantly felt pity for her.  Every subsequent visit with her made me shake my head in sympathy for the deaf child.  How will she thrive in a hearing world?  How sad that she will never hear the sound of her mother’s voice as she sings silly songs or lullabies to comfort her in the night.  She will never hear the clear soprano of a chirping bird or the deep bass of a grumbling garbage truck making its rounds.  Sadder still, her mother will never hear the sweet tones of a toddler girl laughing or verbalizing the soul-warming phrase, “I love you, Mama.”  The idea of raising a deaf child is so overwhelming to me that I would literally feel sadness whenever I saw her. 

Then I was asked to babysit.

I was instantly put at ease once I realized that the sweet girl is like any other 2-year-old.  We played peek-a-boo, I pushed her around on the trike, she motioned for things that she wanted and we had a fun time with her.  She puttered around and sifted through the toy box just like Eva does.  I did feel bad that I couldn’t communicate with sign language to her but she understood my smiles and excited expressions.  The fact that she is deaf didn’t matter.

When I took her home and she spotted her mom, the munchkin opened her mouth so wide and smiled that I thought her jaw might unhinge.  Her eyes beamed with a sincere brightness that only a child can create.  Without any words and without any sound, she greeted her mother with a tender, “I love you, Mama.”  Her life is not sad at all.

As I was leaving she signed for me to come in and watch a movie with her.  She had become my buddy and my friend count is now up to 3.  My 3rd friend just might be my favorite.

I spent the rest of the day reflecting on how lazy I can be as a parent because Eva can hear.  I realized that I can improve my efforts to hear my child.  I shouldn’t stand at the bottom of the stairs and yell for her to come down; I should walk up and find her.  When Eva is speaking to me, I should stop whatever insignificant task is occupying my mind and look at her while she talks.  I should memorize the endearing sound of her innocent voice as she sings the alphabet song or reads her books.

I should listen.   

Labor Day

Usually when Myke has a day off from work we sit around and ask each other what we should do. 

Then we do nothing.

We wanted Labor Day to be different this year so we actually planned beforehand how we would spend the day.  It turned out to be a great idea!  Someone should have hipped me to this practice of pre-planning activities.  I could have spent more days off having fun instead of sitting around watching my wrinkles deepen.  I’m a changed man.  Err…wo-man.

We began the weekend by cleaning out the garage.  Fun?  Not so much.  Spiders?  A million of them.  BIG ones.  Dog hair?  Enough to weave a stunning rug.  Satisfying?  Absolutely.  The most amazing part was that I didn’t get irritated once during the purge.  I was enjoying the cleaning and didn’t even mind that it was scorching hot and we only had string cheese for lunch.  I think this is the first project Michael and I have worked on together where my blood pressure didn’t rise to the boiling point. And I didn’t have an urge to punch him in the throat. And I didn’t swear.  Maybe I’m maturing.  Maybe.

We purchased shelving and now have a place for everything.  In fact, we have extra room for whatever future crap we’re going to need to shove in the garage.  I feel Zen walking into the garage now.  I feel especially Zen knowing we eradicated a million deadly spiders from our abode. 

Ahhh…organization.

Ahhh…tool rack.  I love you.

After all of our toiling on Saturday we spent Monday playing.  First we went bowling.  I haven’t been bowling in years and I was certain I would be terrible.  Taking all that time off actually proved beneficial to my game.  I bowled my highest score yet: 133.  I’m practically ready to go pro with a score like that.  Unfortunately, the time off was also beneficial to Michael and he secured a win for both games.  I’m suspicious that he won with skill, however.  My hypothesis is that the gutter bumpers aided in his victory.  And that he was using the assist-a-roll ramp that was meant for our child. 

Eva had a great time and jumped around squealing every time it was her turn.  During our first game Michael bowled a turkey and Eva spent the rest of day calling his bowling ball “The Turkey Ball.”  It was a load of fun and my hindquarters were sore the next day from all the crouching and concentration.  I most certainly qualify as an elite athlete. 

After our strenuous workout we stopped for lunch at a delicious sandwich shop before heading off to pick apples.  I spent most of the day Tuesday making apple chips.  Michael loves them so much I feel obligated to give him privacy whenever he opens the bag for a handful.  His excitement over the apple chips borders on creepy.  They are delicious though. 

 

It was only early afternoon when we were done at the apple farm so we journeyed to Silver Falls for a short hike.  It’s been a dry summer so the waterfall looked malnourished.  We still had a good time walking through the forest and pleading with Eva not to fall off the edge of the trail into the abyss below. She did a magnificent job hiking considering she has the same inseam as a dwarf. 

  

We spent the balance of the evening watching TV and reminiscing about our successful outings.  And I had a fudge bar.

It was a very fine day indeed.   

Skool

I’m in denial about it.  It’s painful to talk about.  I get weepy at the mention of it. 

Eva is going to Preschool in October.  It’s not an academically challenging curriculum but more of a craft/singing/playtime curriculum.  It’s at the high school and it’s an elective class that the students can take.  Even though it’s not really sending her to school, I feel a lot of anxiety that she’s old enough to attend.  She’s growing so incredibly quickly that I can’t breathe sometimes. 

The topic has been contentious at our house.  My spouse and I have differing opinions about preschool.  “She needs the socialization” (according to Michael).  “It will be good for her” (according to Michael).  “She will love it” (according to Michael).  “I need to curl up and cry” (according to me).

I’m trying to be brave about it.  I purchased her school supplies yesterday.  I felt shaky choosing out the crayons and glue sticks.  My eyes stung with tears as I perused the backpacks.  I felt betrayed.  I DON’T WANT MY BABY TO LEAVE ME.  EVER.

I hate school.  School sucks.