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Stories from L

Sunday 07 December 2008 | 0 Comments

Part of learning to talk is learning to tell stories, to string together a group of sentences in a coherent, meaningful way. Yet we’re learning that there are many different levels of coherence and meaningfulness.

Take, for example, this story L told me yesterday: “i whee i boom i cry!” (She’s saying Polish “i” — and, pronounced “ee” — and not the English first person singular personal pronoun.) Facial expressions and hand gestures accompanied this lovely story, which I would translate thus: “I was sliding down the slide! I was having a great time when I fell down. It hurt, and I cried.”

When K came home a few days ago, L told her the following story: “i Bida i no no i time out!” Translation: “I was playing and decided to pick up Bida[, our cat,] which is a no-no. Dad sent me to time out.”

Stories with three episodes. We are in the midst of what Stephen Pinker joking referred to as the “All-hell-breaks-loose” stage of language learning.

L Near Ice

Monday 01 December 2008 | 0 Comments

In the first of many such adventures, we took L to see the latest incarnation of Disney on Ice this weekend.

She sat calmly before the show began. She sat calmly during the show. The only time she showed much emotion -- other than clapping -- was when someone skated behind the curtain, disappear forever, she was sure.

Does she close her eyes when being thrown around like this?

It was a fairly good production, with a little something for everyone. They stayed with the later Disney films: Lion King, Little Mermaid, and Lilo and Stitch. During the second half they went a little deeper into the Disney catalog, with a fairly long Peter Pan scene.

Unfortunately, they didn't do any of L's favorites. Without a doubt, her absolute favorite -- thanks to Nana and Papa's extensive collection -- is Dumbo, but no proboscidean adventures were included.

Awake

Sunday 30 November 2008 | 2 Comments

Writers often keep a pen and pad on their nightstand in case inspiration strikes in the haze of near sleep. Poet Luci Shaw, visiting my college years ago, explained that she can never remember it the next morning, and to prevent that thought from being lost, she keeps writing materials by her bed. Some even keep illuminated pens and tablets, thereby saving their sleep by not having to turn on the light.

Inspiration can even jolt some writers out of a deep sleep, I've heard.

Twice in last few weeks, I've been jolted out of a deep sleep, but not by anything so pleasant as inspiration. I sit upright in bed suddenly, and there's not a sound in the house, but within moments, I hear L crying. I rush to her bedroom and find her out of her crib, on the floor, stunned to be there, still half asleep herself. What woke me, K, and even L was the thump of her falling to the floor.

"It's time we buy the foot board to turn the crib into a day bed," we both say the morning after.

That night, though, it's all about calming a confused, half-asleep girl, there is only one question: how in the world did she fall out of bed?

The next morning, she shows us. Pointing to the top of the crib, she explains, "I boom!" (She pronounces "I" as the Polish i, which means "and" and is pronounced like our letter "e". So in fact, she was not saying "I boom" but "and boom.")

Afterward, she points to the floor, adding another "i boom" for good measure. She willingly shows us as well.

Haircut

Saturday 15 November 2008 | 1 Comment

It was not her first haircut, but what a difference it made. A bit off the back and she goes from looking like a baby

to looking like a little girl

"I try to hold on to these moments as they pass", sings Adam Duritz, and it's become my mantra. I have to cherish the rare moments that will become ever rarer. When K is vacuuming and L panics, running to me and screaming for me to pick her up, I hold her close; she clings so tightly to my neck that it's almost difficult to breath.

"Were you scared?" I ask.

"Tak," she says, relaxing her grip and simply putting her head on my shoulder.

I'll always want to hold her when she's scared; I'll only be able to for a few more years.

In the Mountains

Sunday 09 November 2008 | 0 Comments

About a week too late, we headed to the mountains of North Carolina today. Last weekend the leaves were at their color peak; after a windy Saturday, there were few left on the trees. Still, we found a spot with good light and a lot of leaves and went at it.

L and I ran,

fell,

rolled around, and covered each other with leaves.

Except for the covering-with-leaves portion, it was continuous "more!" from L (and it came out as sweetly as always: "mo!").

And while most of the leaves had fallen, there were still some magnificent views, particularly of one lay down.

Of course, what would an outing be without some quiet moments, sharing a snack.

Trick or Treat

Sunday 02 November 2008 | 0 Comments

We took the Girl trick-or-treating this weekend. We'd been preparing for a couple of weeks, for L was initially not thrilled with the idea of wearing a Pooh Bear suit, although Pooh is one of her favorite characters. Little by little, evening by evening, we convinced her, though (with a lot of modeling from K), and we slipped on the costume early Friday evening and began our short adventure.

First stop: our neighbor.

Despite our best efforts, though, getting L to say "Trick or treat!" proved to be more difficult than we'd anticipated. We suggested "Treat!" alone, and then tried "Candy!", but none of them appealed to L's sensibilities.

After unwrapping the lollipop L chose, we headed to Nana and Papa's -- they were waiting, thrilled to see L. As always.

Papa and K took the girl to the neighbors' condos while I snapped a few pictures. L came back with a modest collection of suckers, mini-candy bars, and assorted fruity snacks.

It's times like this that L's growth is so evident.

Last year, L was a non-talking, bottle-drinking, virtually-toothless, not-yet-sleeping-through-the-night pumpkin. What changes await us during the next year? By then, she'll be fully communicating and ever more independent -- a blessing, which occasionally will make us long for the toothless, crying-at-two-in-the-morning version of L.

Pumpkin

Friday 31 October 2008 | 0 Comments

We took the girl to a pumpkin farm last week. She enjoyed hiding behind the pumpkins.

I enjoyed taking pictures, of her and the pumpkins.

The fields were largely empty. We'd waited too long.

We'd waited so long, in fact, that we often encountered the not-so-recently departed.

Still, we all found a pumpkin, even the Girl. "Zrob moj moj!" K suggests (Nana might have said, "Love the pumpkin!"), and L willingly complies.

Afterward, the Girl rode about a while,

and I took a few more pictures.

Helper

Sunday 26 October 2008 | 0 Comments

Eating on the Floor

Wednesday 22 October 2008 | 0 Comments

Pasta, yogurt, and fun.

In the Orchard

Monday 20 October 2008 | 2 Comments

I don't understand why the apple had to take the fall. It's not a terribly exotic fruit, and it doesn't seem to inflame the passions like, say, a mango. But perhaps that's the point: sin isn't supposed to be exotic -- it's the everyday things that get you.

But the everyday can be miraculous, and I suppose that's what Thoreau was getting at in Walden.

Maybe he had an apple orchard nearby. (I can't recall. I haven't read Walden since college. I set out to read it again, but my timing was off: I was coming back after two years in Poland and I got absorbed in the sit-coms shown during the flight and I ended up leaving my copy of Walden in the seat pocket in front of me. I'd like to think that brought some joy to the next passenger, but I know full well that the cleaning crew got it first. Hopefully someone read it.)

Apples in an orchard become out of the ordinary -- exotic even. After all, a day spent in the orchard can end with a bag of Pink Ladies in your kitchen and a feeling of satisfied exhaustion.

We spent the day at Sky Top orchard in Flat Rock, North Carolina. Our goal was simple: arrive when the Pink Ladies are ready. K called earlier in the autumn and we planned a visit for mid-October.

Pink Ladies are tough to get: they appear late in the season and disappear quickly. K and I discovered these slightly tangy, crisp apples in Asheville, and we always bought as many as we could as quickly as we could.

Today, we had our pick -- literally. We met a group of friends (I represented exactly 50% of the non-Polish delegation), had a picnic,

and then set off in search of Pink Ladies.

Kasia and Brian head out on the quest with us

We passed by Golden Delicious, Fuji, Rome, Stayman, and other varities. Good apples, each and every one, but not as multidimensional as a Pink Lady.

For those of you who've never had the treat of crunching into a Pink Lady, it's an apple that starts of slightly sweet but has a tang that appears moments after the first bite and seems to grow as you eat the apple. It's sweet without having the cloying flavor of a Golden Delicious and it's tart without the alum-esque qualities of a Granny Smith.

The Pink Ladies were all the way at the back edge of the orchard. Past the newly planted grape vines and the empty McIntosh trees.

We were about the only ones out there. Does no one else know about Pink Ladies?

After walking, picking, and more walking (the second installment being more difficult carying a basketful of Ladies), we had break, led by L.

Then we had a pumpkin photo session, also led by L:

And now, finally having a bag full of coveted apples, we're all so sick of apples they are still sitting, disrespectfully, by the door, right where we put them when we came home.