My parents came into town today and whisked Shay off to the park and then fed him lunch and put him down for his nap so that I could have a little time to myself to get stuff done (ah, grocery shopping ALONE, is there anything better? I'm sure some people could think of some stuff, but today that sounded like the best imaginable thing...). I used to go to prenatal yoga all the time during my first pregnancy, but I haven't managed to get to a class this time, so since I had a little bit of freedom, I decided to walk over to the yoga studio in the morning to go to a class. It was lovely, and blissful, to have a little time to myself and some time to think about this new baby -- now that I am past the constant morning sickness, I'm not thinking about being pregnant all the time and so I find myself sometimes remembering "oh yeah, I'm pregnant!"... and then Shay climbs up on something precarious and I have to run to save him, or he asks for a snack and I have to go fix it, so the end of my "oh yeah, I'm pregnant" thought becomes just "well, I guess that's going fine and I'll just go over here and take care of this other thing." So anyway, it was nice to have an hour to just be pregnant, if that makes sense.
But the story that I actually wanted to tell is that as I was walking home, I noticed a disheveled looking man in layers of clothing and blankets standing by a storefront about a half a block away. He looked homeless, which wouldn't in itself have been a surprising sight on the street where I was walking, but what caught my attention was that there were two kids, probably 5 and 7, or 6 and 8, and a dog, with him. I passed by them, and then they started walking behind me. The man was muttering and swearing at people passing by, and cars, and trees. The littler child, a girl, was holding the dog's leash, and I gather that she lagged behind a bit, because I heard the man yell, "Keep up! Don't make me kick your f***ing a**." The swearing, at the kids and at stuff on the street, continued for another block, and I exchanged a horrified glance with a teenage boy walking in front of me as he turned around to see what was going on. I wanted to do something to help the kids, but I worried that anything I might say or do to try to intervene might just make life worse for them. So, hating myself a little bit, I kept walking and they turned the corner off the street where I was walking.
Afterward, I wondered if I should have called child protective services or something? Or, how might I have intervened myself there on the street? If you'd been where I was today, what would you have done?
Monday, August 15, 2011
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Five New Words Today!
When I was in college, one of the best classes I took was an anthropology class on linguistics -- we studied the development of languages within cultures and also the development of language within children. Both of those ideas fascinated me, and I loved writing the big paper -- we had to interview people about their observations of their child's language development. My dad's cousin Lynn and I had some great conversations about her kids' first words and language development (and now her kids are both in college, which makes me feel very very old...)
So for a long time I have loved thinking about how and when children learn language, and how that corresponds with biology and culture and family culture, and how it is similar to and different from learning a second language later -- and of course one of my favorite things about being a mom myself now is getting to watch the day-by-day acquisition of language, first-hand. At first, I marveled at Shay's ability to follow directions and understand our words, even before he could talk himself. Then, I celebrated his first word, and kept track of each new word he could say. Suddenly, now, I can't keep track... my aunt and uncle babysat Shay today and when I got home, they said he said the word "strawberry," which I've never heard him say -- and he said it for me, too, right after pointing out a "ladder" on a fire truck, talking to me about how he was pretend-"digging" the carpet with his "wo-wel" (shovel), and announcing that his frozen teething ring was "cold." In an hour, I heard him say at least five new words that I've never heard him say before. Sometimes, he acts delighted with himself when he says a new word -- I can tell he is excited to be able to communicate, and to be understood. Other times, the words just come right out without him seeming to notice, which makes me think that he thinks he's been saying those words somewhere amidst the sounds that I hear as chattering and babbling -- and that that chattering contains a lot of words and ideas that I'm just not able to understand yet.
In some ways, watching him learn language makes me remember my first experience learning French, when I was 12. We moved to France for six months, and although I knew a few phrases and words of French, when I attended my first days and weeks of the local middle school in our little town, I couldn't understand anything -- I couldn't feel the rhythms of the language yet, and I couldn't understand questions or directions without accompanying sign language. For example, on one of the first days of school, a girl in my class (who remains a good friend to this day) said something to me as we were walking into a classroom -- it was a friendly tone, I could tell, but I couldn't understand the meaning. She repeated herself several times, slowly. I still had no idea what she was saying. Finally, she repeated herself again, slowly, pointing at herself, and then a desk, and then at me, and then at the adjoining desk. Relieved, I nodded, and sat next to her. She tried her best to help me understand with hand gestures and slow repetitions -- and over the next few weeks as she spoke and the other people around me spoke, I slowly began to be able to hear the beginnings and ends of sentences, and to distinguish questions from statements. Then, before understanding the meanings of words, I could hear the beginnings and endings of words. Then, I could understand some of the words -- and then, suddenly, with a click, I could understand everything.
If that "click" of understanding happens with babies learning their first language in the same way that it did for me learning a second language, then I know that I have already watched it happen for Shay -- he has understood and followed complicated ideas and directions for a while now. But I feel like I am watching a new explosion of language happen for him that I can't compare to my own experience learning French. He is exploring his ability to imitate new sounds, to use words to make things happen and get what he wants, to get our attention and to make us laugh. He seems to be learning communication, just as much as he is learning the particular language that we speak in this house.
I can't wait to talk to him tomorrow, and three weeks from now, and three months from now, and three years from now. He seems to have some stuff to say.
So for a long time I have loved thinking about how and when children learn language, and how that corresponds with biology and culture and family culture, and how it is similar to and different from learning a second language later -- and of course one of my favorite things about being a mom myself now is getting to watch the day-by-day acquisition of language, first-hand. At first, I marveled at Shay's ability to follow directions and understand our words, even before he could talk himself. Then, I celebrated his first word, and kept track of each new word he could say. Suddenly, now, I can't keep track... my aunt and uncle babysat Shay today and when I got home, they said he said the word "strawberry," which I've never heard him say -- and he said it for me, too, right after pointing out a "ladder" on a fire truck, talking to me about how he was pretend-"digging" the carpet with his "wo-wel" (shovel), and announcing that his frozen teething ring was "cold." In an hour, I heard him say at least five new words that I've never heard him say before. Sometimes, he acts delighted with himself when he says a new word -- I can tell he is excited to be able to communicate, and to be understood. Other times, the words just come right out without him seeming to notice, which makes me think that he thinks he's been saying those words somewhere amidst the sounds that I hear as chattering and babbling -- and that that chattering contains a lot of words and ideas that I'm just not able to understand yet.
In some ways, watching him learn language makes me remember my first experience learning French, when I was 12. We moved to France for six months, and although I knew a few phrases and words of French, when I attended my first days and weeks of the local middle school in our little town, I couldn't understand anything -- I couldn't feel the rhythms of the language yet, and I couldn't understand questions or directions without accompanying sign language. For example, on one of the first days of school, a girl in my class (who remains a good friend to this day) said something to me as we were walking into a classroom -- it was a friendly tone, I could tell, but I couldn't understand the meaning. She repeated herself several times, slowly. I still had no idea what she was saying. Finally, she repeated herself again, slowly, pointing at herself, and then a desk, and then at me, and then at the adjoining desk. Relieved, I nodded, and sat next to her. She tried her best to help me understand with hand gestures and slow repetitions -- and over the next few weeks as she spoke and the other people around me spoke, I slowly began to be able to hear the beginnings and ends of sentences, and to distinguish questions from statements. Then, before understanding the meanings of words, I could hear the beginnings and endings of words. Then, I could understand some of the words -- and then, suddenly, with a click, I could understand everything.
If that "click" of understanding happens with babies learning their first language in the same way that it did for me learning a second language, then I know that I have already watched it happen for Shay -- he has understood and followed complicated ideas and directions for a while now. But I feel like I am watching a new explosion of language happen for him that I can't compare to my own experience learning French. He is exploring his ability to imitate new sounds, to use words to make things happen and get what he wants, to get our attention and to make us laugh. He seems to be learning communication, just as much as he is learning the particular language that we speak in this house.
I can't wait to talk to him tomorrow, and three weeks from now, and three months from now, and three years from now. He seems to have some stuff to say.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Big Brother!
We're excited -- and I'm joining in the excitement more and more as I begin to feel less and less sick. I wasn't sick for a single day when I was pregnant with Shay, so this all-day morning sickness, heaving every time I encounter a toothbrush, shampoo, or soap, feeling nauseous at the thought of a vegetable or something whole grain or something containing protein, or even just at the thought of entering the kitchen and preparing food, kind of caught me by surprise. Don't get me wrong: I still gained a few pounds in my first trimester, because plain white bagels with butter and plain white pasta with butter and ice cream still sounded just fine.... But I've been able to expand my repertoire of foods this week, which feels good, and the nausea is only in brief passing moments, instead of all the time -- which feels great, as I have to chase around an active toddler all day no matter how I feel!
But I'm sure that taking care of an active toddler and a brand-newborn, and dealing with all that sleep deprivation, will be just fine, right? Right?
Friday, June 24, 2011
Language, and laziness
There is an explosion of new words around here. Lately: tea, bubbles, kid. As in: "I wanna watch that YouTube video of the kid and the bubbles and pretend to drink tea out of Mama's empty cup," which is what is happening as we speak. So yes, this language and this desire stems out of me letting Shay sit on my lap at the computer and watch YouTube videos on one side of the screen while I try to look at e-mail or play my scrabble moves or update this blog on the other side of the screen. I feel mildly guilty about this, like, I know I should be reading to him or taking him to the park or something -- but then, sometimes Mama needs to drink tea and read email for a sec. And, apparently, my lazy behavior is helping him learn new words, right? Right?
Okay, my short companion is shouting "Car!" now, so off I go to the other side of my computer screen to watch the "Cars" trailer for the eleventy millionth time. Hope your summer is educational so far!
Okay, my short companion is shouting "Car!" now, so off I go to the other side of my computer screen to watch the "Cars" trailer for the eleventy millionth time. Hope your summer is educational so far!
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
June so far: reading, and truck-watching
This morning, just after Patrick left the house, I noticed that Seamus was being very quiet, and I couldn't see him from the chair where I was sitting, which can sometimes be a bad omen. But, luckily, nothing precarious was being climbed, nor anything important being shoved into the depths of the diaper bin. Instead, he was sitting in his room by himself, surrounded by a pile of books, reading.
That's my boy! (By "reading," of course, I mean pointing at pictures of fire trucks.)
Now, he is back out in the living room, where he can see trucks and men doing work on the street. About a month ago, some city workers came and dug a huge hole/trench on one side of our corner, exposing a big pipe/water main thing. It took them days and days to dig it up, and every day they would put a big metal slab over their hole and seal the edges with concrete, and then come back in the morning, pry it off, and dig some more, then stand around surveying their work for a few hours, and then dig a little bit more. Then, there was work done on the pipe thingamajig while the nearby fire hydrant sprayed a bunch of water all over the neighborhood, the hole was filled in and resurfaced, and the trucks drove away. Then, two days later, they came back and started digging trenches up the hill and working on pipes up there, and finally got all that filled in a few days ago. This morning, the jackhammers and diggers and dump trucks were back, and they're tearing up a different side of the corner. It seems like poor planning to me; wouldn't it have been more efficient to all the jackhammering/digging at once, and then all the pipe repair work at once, and then all the resurfacing at once? But it is like entertainment central for a toddler: week after week after week of real live trucks, right outside our apartment. Shay keeps running from the front window to the side window, surveying the work. He has two little steps he can stand up on to see out better, and sometimes he has one at each window, but then sometimes he picks one up and carries it to the other window, so that he can have two side-by-side for a while. Variety is the spice of life, I guess.
Anyway, that is what is going on here. That, and I'm staring at about 8 more portfolios of writing that I still need to read -- they are the only thing standing between me and summer vacation, so I know I should just power through them and get it done, but I am at the point where I feel like I can't possibly read any more student work until I've had a vacation.
That's my boy! (By "reading," of course, I mean pointing at pictures of fire trucks.)
Now, he is back out in the living room, where he can see trucks and men doing work on the street. About a month ago, some city workers came and dug a huge hole/trench on one side of our corner, exposing a big pipe/water main thing. It took them days and days to dig it up, and every day they would put a big metal slab over their hole and seal the edges with concrete, and then come back in the morning, pry it off, and dig some more, then stand around surveying their work for a few hours, and then dig a little bit more. Then, there was work done on the pipe thingamajig while the nearby fire hydrant sprayed a bunch of water all over the neighborhood, the hole was filled in and resurfaced, and the trucks drove away. Then, two days later, they came back and started digging trenches up the hill and working on pipes up there, and finally got all that filled in a few days ago. This morning, the jackhammers and diggers and dump trucks were back, and they're tearing up a different side of the corner. It seems like poor planning to me; wouldn't it have been more efficient to all the jackhammering/digging at once, and then all the pipe repair work at once, and then all the resurfacing at once? But it is like entertainment central for a toddler: week after week after week of real live trucks, right outside our apartment. Shay keeps running from the front window to the side window, surveying the work. He has two little steps he can stand up on to see out better, and sometimes he has one at each window, but then sometimes he picks one up and carries it to the other window, so that he can have two side-by-side for a while. Variety is the spice of life, I guess.
Anyway, that is what is going on here. That, and I'm staring at about 8 more portfolios of writing that I still need to read -- they are the only thing standing between me and summer vacation, so I know I should just power through them and get it done, but I am at the point where I feel like I can't possibly read any more student work until I've had a vacation.
Monday, May 9, 2011
The Zen of Fears
Seamus and I went exploring in the Japanese Tea Garden this morning -- I am into "things you can do for free with kids in San Francisco," and one thing is that if you get to the Tea Garden between 9-10am on a weekday, there's no entrance fee. So, since we were over in that neck of the woods dropping Patrick off at the dentist anyway, we decided to go exploring.
We hiked over bridges, climbed up stairs, "jumped" from stepping stone to stepping stone, sat in dewy grass, smacked irises to make the glistening dew rain off them -- you know, your usual zen morning. We also saw some big carp swimming lazily in the pond, and made fishy faces at them.
Seamus is usually nearly fearless, running off to explore new things, running up to new people to smile at them and see if they'll smile back at him, squealing as he runs up to dogs to say hi. But lately, I've started to notice him having more fears -- this morning, for example, just 15 minutes after greeting a couple of dogs, he backed away in fear from a squirrel. I don't know that he's ever seen a squirrel up close, so I guess that's part of it -- but I was surprised when I pointed out a squirrel running across the path toward a tree about 15 feet in front of us, carrying a nut in his mouth, thinking Shay would love to watch him run up the tree... and instead Shay sort of wimpered, turned around, and clung to me. I tried to explain that he didn't need to be afraid of the squirrel, but he just wanted to wave bye-bye to it, which, in this context, means "let's get the heck outta here." So we left the squirrel and walked up the hill, and then I crouched down to toddler level and pointed out a big statue of the Buddha, sitting cross-legged in the shadow of a tree near where we stood. He barely looked at it before turning around to cling to me. He refused to walk by the Buddha, and insisted on being carried past that area.
I guess it's good, for him to have fears of unknown creatures -- and that Buddha is a little scary-looking, I'll give him that. It makes me feel safe that he runs to me when he sees something unexpected or feels unsure -- I mean, at least it makes me feel safer than knowing he will run fearlessly into anything. He did, however, try to climb over a rock so he could get into the pond and make fishy faces up close to the carp, and I tried really hard to seem calm while I held him back. We are both working on the zen of our fears.
Seamus is usually nearly fearless, running off to explore new things, running up to new people to smile at them and see if they'll smile back at him, squealing as he runs up to dogs to say hi. But lately, I've started to notice him having more fears -- this morning, for example, just 15 minutes after greeting a couple of dogs, he backed away in fear from a squirrel. I don't know that he's ever seen a squirrel up close, so I guess that's part of it -- but I was surprised when I pointed out a squirrel running across the path toward a tree about 15 feet in front of us, carrying a nut in his mouth, thinking Shay would love to watch him run up the tree... and instead Shay sort of wimpered, turned around, and clung to me. I tried to explain that he didn't need to be afraid of the squirrel, but he just wanted to wave bye-bye to it, which, in this context, means "let's get the heck outta here." So we left the squirrel and walked up the hill, and then I crouched down to toddler level and pointed out a big statue of the Buddha, sitting cross-legged in the shadow of a tree near where we stood. He barely looked at it before turning around to cling to me. He refused to walk by the Buddha, and insisted on being carried past that area.
I guess it's good, for him to have fears of unknown creatures -- and that Buddha is a little scary-looking, I'll give him that. It makes me feel safe that he runs to me when he sees something unexpected or feels unsure -- I mean, at least it makes me feel safer than knowing he will run fearlessly into anything. He did, however, try to climb over a rock so he could get into the pond and make fishy faces up close to the carp, and I tried really hard to seem calm while I held him back. We are both working on the zen of our fears.
Saturday, May 7, 2011
5k!
Today, I ran my first 5k. I succeeded in all three of my main goals:
1. I finished it.
2. I ran the whole way; no stopping/resting/walking.
3. I had the cutest cheering section at the race!
It was actually way more fun than I thought it would be! It was a great atmosphere -- very positive with lots of cheering for all accomplishments. The event was for women and girls only, and there was the 5k I ran as well as a 10k, a half-marathon, an 18-mile race, and a 1.5 mile kids' run. There was actually a good-sized group of young girls running the 5k as well, which I thought was really cool. The race was alongside a lake in a park in the East Bay, and it was nice to run outside, which I haven't gotten the chance to do in my training -- definitely makes the time pass by more quickly to have something pretty to look at! It was harder to keep track of my pace, though, without the treadmill to set the pace for me. I have no idea what my time actually was -- I couldn't see the clock as I was finishing, but Patrick says I finished "fast" so hopefully I managed to keep a reasonable pace! (Though I think Patrick's "fast" comment is more about being proud of me than about my actual speed...) I'm hoping they'll post it online so I have something to try to improve on next time -- because suddenly I've decided I like running more than I thought I did!
I loved having my little dude out there to watch me run my first race -- a great Mother's Day gift!
1. I finished it.
2. I ran the whole way; no stopping/resting/walking.
3. I had the cutest cheering section at the race!
I loved having my little dude out there to watch me run my first race -- a great Mother's Day gift!
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