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Signs of Development

Tuesday 27 November 2007

We’ve been working to teach L baby signs for months now. The books we read on the topic said the optimum age is usually around nine months, but we began from birth. Call us eager beavers or hopelessly optimistic about our daughter’s budding genius.

In the last few weeks, though, she’s really been picking up on the fact that we’re trying to communicate with her. The other evening, when L was reaching for her sippy cup, I sat down beside her and showed her the sign we’ve been using for “drink” — the motion of turning a cup toward your mouth, with thumb extended. She was fussy and whiny, but when she saw me point to the cup and then make the sign, saying “Drink,” she calmed down and seemed really to pay attention. I made the sign again, still pointing to the cup. She looked at me, looked up at the cup, then looked back at me. I balled up her little fist and helped her make the sign. In the past, when I’ve tried this, I got fierce resistance. This time, she relaxed and let me show her what to do. I made the sign again, then gave her the cup. The whole time, no tears, no whining, no fussing. I could almost see the thoughts bouncing around. “He’s trying to tell me something…”

Communication

Monday 26 November 2007

I was in the living room, working on a contract writing project that’s been plaguing (and entertaining, not to mention paying) me for many months longer that it should have. K and the Girl were in the kitchen.

“Go tell Dad it’s time for splish-splash,” K said to the Girl (po polsku, of course).

I heard the pat-pat-pat of L’s feet (Have I mention L’s walking now, and has been for about a month and a half?) as she came into the living room. She looked at me, smiled, and flapped her arms in the air, splashing at the imaginary water — the sign we’ve been using for “bath.” She began giggling as she signed.

I don’t think I’ve felt that awed in all my life.

Linville Falls

Saturday 24 November 2007

Rose Hill Plantation

Monday 19 November 2007

Yesterday we went to Rose Hill Plantation, an antebellum estate outside of Spartanburg.

More pictures at Flickr.

Don’t Call Him Brother Romney

http://www.getreligion.org/?p=2867

Nana with the Girl

Thursday 15 November 2007

Last weekend.

Vignettes

Wednesday 14 November 2007

Every night around eight-fifteen, eight-thirty, I take the Girl for her bath. “Bath” is one of the few baby signs we use consistently, and last night, she provided humorous evidence that she truly understands the sign. I came out of the bathroom after preparing her bath and she was looking at one of her favorite books while sitting at the bottom of the six stairs that separates the upper and lower portions of our split-level home. “L,” I called. She looked up, and I began making the waving my arms as if splashing the water. “Halapu ciapu!” I called out, Polish for “splish-splash.” She tossed the book aside, pulled herself on her feet quickly, held out her arms, and smiled hugely.

Every morning around three, the Girl wakes up hungry and wet. I stumble into her room to change her diaper; K heads downstairs to prepare a bottle; the Girl usually just cries. Lately, though, she’s been increasingly calm as I begin the process, and last night, she remained calm throughout the whole change. She would start to get fussy but I managed to calm her with some reassuring words in my sleepy, calm voice and a gentle stroke of her cheek. She didn’t break into hysterics even when K entered.

Zakopower

Tuesday 13 November 2007

Just before K and I moved from Poland in 2005, Zakopower, a new band, was growing popular. They performed at a few festivals and they had a hit single.

Unusual music -- a combination of traditional highlander music (the original music sounds and looks something like this) with modern beats and instruments.

The first time I heard them, I liked them, but I wasn't overwhelmed. The song was "Kiebys Ty"

Original, but it just didn't grab me.

When K's dad came from Poland, he brought with him some music that K'd requested. Among the CDs was Zakopower's Musichal.

Listening to it, I realized that Zakopower had committed an frequent-enough error: they'd released the wrong song! Most of the songs, while pleasant, didn't grab me the first listen.

One did: "Love's Regret," with one Boguslawa Kudasik taking lead vocals.

If you're interested you can get it at CD Universe.

I listened to this song at least half a dozen times yesterday. The opening violin is so mournful that it can make one positively long for Podhale, the mountainous region of southern Poland from which this music comes.

Zakopower II What I love so much about it is how it typifies Goralski singing without being, well, typical. That sense of hanging on with white-knuckled vocal chords (wonderfully mixed, thank you) is at the heart of Goralski music -- singing as high and mightily as possible without losing control.