Showing posts with label elizabeth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label elizabeth. Show all posts

10/02/2017

Theo(logic)

We have been busy trying to soak up what I experienced as a short-lived summer.

(Yes, Kayla and Linnea, I suppose that exposes my non-nativeness to feel this way about the summer we had!)

At least, that is my excuse for why I haven't blogged in a while about anything, and it's certainly been ages since I've shared what Theo and Emilyn are saying lately.

As usual, I've tried to jot down things in my Notes app, so here is a collection since the last time I wrote about him in February. It's in chronological order so you can keep in mind the context of growing from 3yr1mo to 3yr9mo and through the seasons of winter, spring, summer and now fall. He started preschool last week!

Lol, I suppose I could have cropped this, and then captioned, "Is Theo wearing pants?"
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After I muttered to myself, "When will it stop raining?" Theo said, "It will stop raining when you go to your nap, in your dreams."

To David, regarding some privilege: "Will you talk it over with Umma?"

"Don't cry Emi, we're almost home."

"Don't laugh; it's not a laughing game."

"Breathe in and out" to himself.

Earlier this year, he asked if he could use sidewalk chalk. Since it was raining a lot, I said, "when it's Spring, we can bring out the sidewalk chalk." One day probably in March, he noticed the pink camilias blooming on the side of the house, and so he said to me, "The camilias are blooming; can we have sidewalk chalk?"

To me, "You don't need shoes on; just your feet." He knows I'm a Berkeley girl.

"I took a picture with my eyes."

When he wasn't ready for me to kiss him goodnight, he told me "Go control your computer" because he knows I usual check my email between putting Emilyn to bed and then saying goodnight to him.

"Nuna is quite the baker."

One day when David was mowing the lawn, David asked him what he wanted to do, since he dislikes the loud noise of the mower. Theo asked, "Can I stay inside and dance?" Kathy, Emilyn, and I were out at that time, so when we came home, we just saw Theo dancing by himself in the living room, and we found out the rest of the story from David.

"Can I come to your house?" He started saying this a couple of months ago, to grandparents whenever we FaceTimed them. Of course they loved this.

Back in April when it was David's birthday, I asked Theo what we should get for his birthday. Without any hesitance, he offered, "Moss killer."

And first thing in the morning on that birthday, he said, "Can we have cake today because it's your birthday?"

Again, earlier in the summer, to one of my friends: "I'm ready for preschool. I go to preschool three times a week for an hour. I start in the fall." (Actually he goes twice a week for two hours.)

Referring to packaged seaweed, "No, don't throw away the silica gel, or else it won't be crispy!"

He started buckling himself into the carseat in April, at 3 years and 3 months. So nice that he can climb in and get buckled himself.

Sometimes before bed, David has all of Theo's monkeys warm up their singing voices for bedtime songs. When they say "mi mi mi mi mi", Theo sometimes says "me me me me mini mini me."

I love watching Emilyn copy Theo's dance moves.

Because Kathy calls Theo her "Chicken Heart" or "Chicken Thigh" etc., Theo started saying "chop chop chop" while he pretends to chop his arm into bite-sized pieces for her to eat.

"Appa, statch me." By which he meant, can you pray that prayer where you ask God to let me grow in wisdom and stature, in favor with God and man?

"I'm going to preach school."

Without prompting, he began a letter to Emilyn, which read, "I love you, I like to climb, I love playing with you."

There's a Vietnamese sticky rice coconut dessert which Theo calls squishy dessert, but the way he says it, it sounds like "kwishy dirt."

"I'm not a baby, I'm a Theo. Don't talk about babies; let's talk about big boys."

One day, I said, "I'm looking for the one who loves Jack Jack (Emilyn)" when I was trying to get Kathy's attention. Theo intervened saying "I love Jack Jack!"

One day he said "The storms of Jesus Christ" maybe because we told him that God controls nature?

"Don't cry Emilyn, I'm here, I'm not going anywhere."

"I want to trick Umma."

"Wake up so I can bother you!"

On a drive, "If I see a tractor, I will tell you."

"We can go on a date? What the??? Tractor??!!"

When I mentioned I needed to go to the pharmacy, he asked if there would be any tractors. At the Farm-acy, duh.

"I don't want cat cookies, there's sugar bugs."

"I'm organizing over there." He has started to "organize" things. Am I really happy about this? YAS.

"I'm sitting on this rice sock so that I don't cough or bless you."

"We have an appleseed tree and two maple trees."

He often mashes together two thoughts into one sentence: "I don't know how to do this?"

"I'm thirsty for salt. Savory."

When I started loosely and slowly weaning Emilyn I had to tell her once, "I'm not going to nurse you right now." Theo overheard and he asked, "Is it because you're growing, and you're a big umma?"

Theo wanted more Milo (an Asian chocolate malted drink), so I told him I would pick up more of it when I went to Evergreen. A week after I had told him that, I mentioned to David that I needed to go to Evergreen. Immediately, Theo said in a robotic voice, "Can-you-pick-up-my-Milo."

One time when David was merging on to the freeway and a car sped up at the last minute to overtake him, Theo yelled out, "Share the road!" (We honestly have never said that out loud so it was really funny.)

David likes to use the speaker/amplifier in the mini-van to imitate airplane pilot monologues (e.g., ":::ssssshhhhhhhhhh::: This is your captain speaking...") so Theo has started doing it as well, only he says, "This is your speaking captain..."

"If I can watch a show with front loaders and a backhoe, then I'll get my hair cut!" Talk about sentence construction.

"Mama, did you make grits for me? I'm hungry for grits."

"My tummy loves warm."

"Look at what happened to my waffle." (It's gone.)

One day when Emilyn was crying in the back of the van, Theo told me, "She wants everything. She wants a nap, she wants to go to the park, she wants her friends." I love how he asked himself a question in his head and then answered it for all of us.

"I know her full name. Ro Ro Ro Ro Emilyn Ro."

He took care of Emilyn's stuffed bunny and treated it like a baby.

When we got in the car one day, he asked for the "joy joy podcast", by which he meant the song "Down In My Heart."

In the middle of summer, "Don't wake me up to preschool!"

When I mentioned that I might pull him out of school to go to Richmond for a few weeks in late winter, he said, "I need my daddy and my nunu. That will be too much. Or I will go with just Emilyn." When I asked, "Then what will Mama do?", he said, "Mama will get a date."

One day Theo was arranging logs on the deck and he called it Silver Lake. I did not comprehend what he was saying until later that week we went to Silver Lake and the parking lake had logs arranged to mark off the parking spaces.

He uses the word "cantilever" and pronounces it "cant-a-leave-er." It's too much.

One morning when David was home during breakfast (it means either the weekend or a weekday he's working late), Theo could tell Emilyn was starting to feel anxious that I'd be leaving to take a walk. All of this was unspoken, until Theo asked me, "You can just walk laps around the kitchen, right?" He knew that she didn't want me to leave.

As soon as Theo gets home from school, he pulls his pants off and yells, "Free!"

And then just yesterday, when I pulled out grapes for dessert during dinner, he said "I want g-r-..." and proceeded to spell a couple of other (wrong) letters. "I want icecream for dessert. G-r-..." because we always spell out the good things.

We met one of Kathy's new floormates this year and her name is Erica. Theo later commented that her name is like "the America flag." Indeed, "Erica" is in America.

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Alright, now I'm up to speed with Theo. Up next, Emilyn!

P.S. For my own record (since I'm no longer logging everything obsessively in an Excel file, ha! Although, Elizabeth, aren't you glad that I had? ;p), it appears that Theo is dropping his nap. I can't be totally sure, and I think he may still need it on school days, but I'm 90% sure this is happening right now. :'(

P.P.S. Marla, I am totally channeling the "and because it's due, this is what I will write."

5/18/2017

New-fangled


A couple of weeks ago I was really feeling the overwhelm of technology.

In the last decade since graduating from college, I'd tried to preemptively circumvent the FOMO I knew I would inevitably feel from the engagement of technology by avoiding it as much as I could. But now I feel like I'm some old fogey who, at only 31, just doesn't understand those young people.

How do I stay connected without getting swept away?

Many of you have probably pondered and ruminated over this while I've just had my head buried in the sand. So, please enlighten me. How do you:

(a) utilize technology? (Where does it help and where does it hurt?)
(b) let go of where you aren't totally plugged in?
(c) understand the role of technology in your life?

(Insert smoooooth transition.)

Here are three new-to-me "technological" things I've been enjoying:

1. Using audio messages through iMessage to leave messages that aren't urgent. It's just so much faster for me to convey what I'm trying to say without the worry of typos or an ambiguous tone. It's also much easier to send a message when I have only one hand available, which is often.

2. Facebook groups. So nifty! Yes, I just said nifty, so you can understand just how old-fashioned I am.

3. Okay, I know everyone is going to roll their eyes at me, but I've just discovered the beauty of the drive-thru at the bank. I'm one of those weirdos/extroverts who actually likes to go into the bank and talk to someone and see how they are handling my transaction. But anyway, two kids later, I've come to see the light, and this way I can still enjoy the personal interaction without having to get myself (or the kids, lbh) out of the car.

What technology are you enjoying lately? And, on the flip side, what ways are you finding to ground yourself to the "real"/natural world?

8/23/2016

11. The weakest/strongest thing I could be

One concept I've been taking to heart since my writing workshop in July is having a notebook for all the ideas that come to mind or things I observe in my day, as a way of "catching creativity by its tail." I used to do this a long time ago. At one point in college I had a small unlined Moleskine with one-line poems and even a taped-in snowflake I had made out of weigh paper from chem lab. (Molly, I'm currently weighing my options for puns on the word "tare". See what I did there? Elizabeth, I am remembering the many vellum notes and other arch-y gifts I received from you.)

I may have accidentally Konmari'd all my physical notebooks (oops) so I have yet to come up with a happy place to put all my thoughts (plus I love my planner but sometimes feel frustrated with having multiple paper notebooks on my desk). For now I'm gathering thoughts on my phone because I almost always have it on me. (Except when I'm asking "where is my phone?", which happens 2394082343209 times a day. #literally)

Yes I'm an old person who needs the extra-large font.
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I can't remember where I first heard of this concept but it popped into my head again this morning, the notion of "being one's own best friend." I feel like that's not a message I heard growing up but could have really used since, especially when I first moved to the PNW. Even if I had heard it, I probably would have scoffed at that; that's for losers, I'd have thought.

And yet: Liz and Brene (about time I drop those last names, eh?) talk in the aforementioned Episode 12 about how we are quick to offer compassion to others but more hesitant with ourselves, but what makes you so special that you think you don't deserve compassion? (They then go on to talk about the "narcissism of depression." Oof.)

I'm totally that person who always needs at least one best friend and I've been lucky to have many best friends throughout my life.* So it totally depressed me when we moved to a new place that I thought was cool and easy and no one wanted to be friends, period. I hate to consider that this all happened so that I could learn to be my own best friend. (Insert gagging sounds.) It seems simultaneously weak and the strongest thing you could do/be.

So in a way, this project, as it unfolds, is kind of also a "that notebook" with myself. Letters to myself that are evidence someone wants to talk to me, whether or not you readers are here for the ride, which I'm glad that you are.

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*I've also since snagged an extraordinary husband who is now forced to be my best friend for life. (Channeling Ali here. We're already on a first-name basis, after only one previous blog mention.)

P.S. Remember how I mentioned my neo(?)-Ludditism in previous posts? I feel like I fell off the edge of the Internet when Google Reader died. How did the rest of you survive? I still don't think I can recover from that. RIP, GR.

1/31/2015

Everything I dreamed

I realize I haven't posted a recipe in quite some time. Obviously, we've still been eating. But I have to admit that cooking has somewhat slowed down what with having a baby, being fed recently by parents and in-laws, and getting a deep freezer.

But then the other day I discovered these magical (green) beans that I knew I needed to share.

When I first saw the recipe in February's Southern Living, I thought that it looked good enough to be clipped: simple, unique, and flavorful - exactly the kind of food I love to cook, and, of course, eat.



They turned out to be everything I dreamed they would be and more: crispy, salty, lemony, herby, addicting. Oddly enough, they reminded me of Chinese green beans - the kind that are fried until they are wrinkly - salty with soy sauce and slick with oil, in a good way. But these beans weren't greasy and they didn't have soy sauce; in fact, part of the appeal is that I can't quite put my finger why they taste the way they do.

Usually when I read a recipe, I imagine the taste in my mouth, adding layer by layer of flavor as I read through the steps and as each ingredient is added to the pot / pan / whatever. But this didn't taste like what I imagined it would and I still can't exactly explain how the science of this recipe makes for its outcome.

Anyway, all that to say... You should make these. They are like green bean fries. Kenny likes to pop them into his mouth and pretend he is showing off to his friends that he is eating a hot pepper, whole.



Fiery Green Beans
adapted from Southern Living

1 lb fresh green beans or haricot verts*
2 T olive oil
2 T fresh lemon juice
1 T chopped parsley
1 T chopped cilantro
1 green onion, sliced thinly
1 t dried crushed red pepper
kosher salt
freshly ground black pepper

Preheat oven to 375. Arrange green beans on single layer on a foil-lined baking sheet (I used my Silpat). Drizzle with olive oil; toss. Bake 10 minutes.

While beans are in the oven, mix together lemon juice with herbs and crushed pepper.

After 10 minutes of baking, increase oven temperature to broil, and raise the oven rack to the highest setting. Broil for 5-7 minutes until browned in spots. (SL says they will be "crisp-tender.")

Remove the beans and combine with lemon herb mixture. Season with salt and pepper and an additional drizzle of olive oil.

We served it with salmon (baked with marinated artichokes, red peppers, lemon, tomato, and green olives).


Aaaand, randoms:

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* Costco is a lovely place to get a 2 lb bag of haricot verts for a great price. I promise if you do this, you will make the first pound and then make the next pound the very next day. Or hour.