Dear Scarlett,
Tonight we went out for a sushi dinner to celebrate Uncle Rob's birthday. When you saw the edamame approaching the table, you were thrilled. "Pop-out edamame!" you sang. When your sticky rice showed up, you attacked it with chopsticks. But when your tempura veggies arrived, you balked. "They're FRIES!" we all told you. But you did not agree. Dessert, which you got to have even though your dinner left much to be desired, was ice cream and cookies. There was a lot of sugar in that little bowl, and I think that might be why you made the following speech sometime after polishing off the whole thing.
"GUYS! Let's come back here again sometime, and let's tell Uncle Mike that he needs to come, too! Do you know why? Do you know why we need to come back here sometime? BECAUSE I LOVE YOU GUYS."
Uncle Rob pronounced you wasted. Then we ordered cheesecake and flourless chocolate cake and you got to try both. Aren't birthdays the best?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, UNCLE ROB!!
Love,
Mom
Kamis, 28 Februari 2013
Senin, 11 Februari 2013
A Monday night update
Dear Scarlett,
Last week, Dad and I took a quick trip to Naples, Florida to see a "renegade neurologist" who has some new and exciting ideas about ALS. I am now taking some additional medication and am on a crazy sounding version of a ketogenic diet. I have an appointment with a dietician tomorrow, after which I will explain more about that last part. The idea is that you are burning fat to use as energy, and we have now reached the end of my ketogenic knowledge. But it was a good appointment and we got to see Grandma and Grandpa for a day.
You stayed in San Francisco with Nonnie and Pops, and I confess that I missed you intensely. I used to travel a bit for work, but it's been a long time since I've spent multiple nights this far away from you. We talked every day, and the thing that struck me most was how you sounded like such a big girl on the phone. You told us stories, made demands, and burst into giggles at your own jokes. You make a lot of jokes lately, and most of them are of the "Daddy pooped on his face!" variety. Lest there be any confusion, Daddy has never pooped on his face.
Almost immediately after our plane landed in San Francisco, my phone rang. It was Aunt Liz telling me that you had swallowed a marble. She said that you were sort of pretending to eat it and holding it really close to your mouth, and when she tried to get it from you, it shot straight down your throat. You both stared at each other for a moment in surprise and horror. "Did that go down?" she asked. You nodded.
Liz called 911 and learned that this is actually quite common and that we were to watch for the marble on the other end. Today we found it. This involved wooden skewers and a lot of soap afterwards. Let's just...no more on that.
We've been house hunting again, which is sort of fun and sort of horrible. The good news is that we've seen some things that we've liked, so I'm sure it's just a matter of time before we make the move. I'll be sad to leave this house, the only one you've ever lived in. But it's really time to get away from the stairs. They're becoming more and more challenging for me. Other than that, I'm feeling ok, and I'm optimistic about all of the things we learned and will learn from the folks in Florida.
I wish that I wrote down more of the things that you say. Dad comes home and I realize I've already forgotten half of the funny things that happened. For some reason, you were fascinated by the fact that I had a t-shirt on today. I guess I don't wear them that much. You told me I couldn't wear a t-shirt if I wasn't at a baseball game. These rules of yours are interesting. This afternoon you asked me if I was feeling "very tormented."
"Tormented," I said, just to clarify, as I have never heard you use that word, and don't think it's in high rotation at our house. "Where did you learn that word?"
"It's in Bad, Bad, Bad Kitty!" you cackled. This is a book you read months ago, and for the record I think there's only one Bad.
Every night before bed, you ask for stories, in addition to books and songs. Bedtime takes a little longer, but is still a fairly easy routine. Your favorite stories are about Baby Scout and her adventures, like flying to Hawaii and trying ice cream for the first time. Mommy bedtime songs are "5 Balloons", "Sing Roo" and "When You're Tired and Cranky." Daddy bedtime songs are "Raindrops", "Fix You," and "We are Going to Be Friends."
As always, there's more to say, but I'll end here. I'm pretty sure my dietician is going to tell me that wine is not on the menu, so I have a bottle to finish. Ignorance is bliss.
I love you,
Mom
Last week, Dad and I took a quick trip to Naples, Florida to see a "renegade neurologist" who has some new and exciting ideas about ALS. I am now taking some additional medication and am on a crazy sounding version of a ketogenic diet. I have an appointment with a dietician tomorrow, after which I will explain more about that last part. The idea is that you are burning fat to use as energy, and we have now reached the end of my ketogenic knowledge. But it was a good appointment and we got to see Grandma and Grandpa for a day.
You stayed in San Francisco with Nonnie and Pops, and I confess that I missed you intensely. I used to travel a bit for work, but it's been a long time since I've spent multiple nights this far away from you. We talked every day, and the thing that struck me most was how you sounded like such a big girl on the phone. You told us stories, made demands, and burst into giggles at your own jokes. You make a lot of jokes lately, and most of them are of the "Daddy pooped on his face!" variety. Lest there be any confusion, Daddy has never pooped on his face.
Almost immediately after our plane landed in San Francisco, my phone rang. It was Aunt Liz telling me that you had swallowed a marble. She said that you were sort of pretending to eat it and holding it really close to your mouth, and when she tried to get it from you, it shot straight down your throat. You both stared at each other for a moment in surprise and horror. "Did that go down?" she asked. You nodded.
Liz called 911 and learned that this is actually quite common and that we were to watch for the marble on the other end. Today we found it. This involved wooden skewers and a lot of soap afterwards. Let's just...no more on that.
We've been house hunting again, which is sort of fun and sort of horrible. The good news is that we've seen some things that we've liked, so I'm sure it's just a matter of time before we make the move. I'll be sad to leave this house, the only one you've ever lived in. But it's really time to get away from the stairs. They're becoming more and more challenging for me. Other than that, I'm feeling ok, and I'm optimistic about all of the things we learned and will learn from the folks in Florida.
I wish that I wrote down more of the things that you say. Dad comes home and I realize I've already forgotten half of the funny things that happened. For some reason, you were fascinated by the fact that I had a t-shirt on today. I guess I don't wear them that much. You told me I couldn't wear a t-shirt if I wasn't at a baseball game. These rules of yours are interesting. This afternoon you asked me if I was feeling "very tormented."
"Tormented," I said, just to clarify, as I have never heard you use that word, and don't think it's in high rotation at our house. "Where did you learn that word?"
"It's in Bad, Bad, Bad Kitty!" you cackled. This is a book you read months ago, and for the record I think there's only one Bad.
Every night before bed, you ask for stories, in addition to books and songs. Bedtime takes a little longer, but is still a fairly easy routine. Your favorite stories are about Baby Scout and her adventures, like flying to Hawaii and trying ice cream for the first time. Mommy bedtime songs are "5 Balloons", "Sing Roo" and "When You're Tired and Cranky." Daddy bedtime songs are "Raindrops", "Fix You," and "We are Going to Be Friends."
As always, there's more to say, but I'll end here. I'm pretty sure my dietician is going to tell me that wine is not on the menu, so I have a bottle to finish. Ignorance is bliss.
I love you,
Mom
Rabu, 30 Januari 2013
Kamis, 17 Januari 2013
Emma Goulding (1996-2013)
Dear Scarlett,
Tonight we said goodbye to our dear cat Emma. That's the same line I wrote to you when Smokey left us last May, and it seemed fitting to use it again. Emma and Smokey were quite a pair. She was never the same after he was gone.
But her sweet, demanding "Emma" personality still came through. She loved to stalk around the couch in the evenings, yowling at me and Dad to pet her, finally jumping up to sit with us and make it a little easier. She seemed to find her second wind at night, after we'd all gone to sleep, and would meow as loudly as possible. Sometimes from your room, we would hear a little "Hussss!" We all had to hush Emma on a regular basis.
I remember one day a year or so ago when our neighbor Jackson told me that he could hear Emma so clearly that he thought she was in his bedroom. He went tearing down the hallway to his mom and dad's room to tell them there was a cat under his bed. That is how loud Emma could be. When Dad and I lived in New York, our next door neighbor once asked us how the baby was doing. "The baby?" we looked at each other. We didn't have a baby. We think she was talking about Emma, singing her cat songs through the walls. Smokey, though he had it in him to be rowdy, really only yelled when someone was sleeping.
Emma was a lover of music, and Dad says she always had a specific fondness for female vocalists. She was a little timid around strangers, but gained some confidence during her later years and became more of a visible presence when guests were here, at which point she usually required them to shove over and make room for her on the couch.
You liked to spin her around in my old office chair, something that I am guessing was not on her list of top ten ways to spend the day. Chasing Emma became something of a past time, too, and I came into the living room more than once to find you battling a speaker twice your size in order to get to Emma, who cowered behind the TV.
There were a few nights when Emma somehow got stuck in your room behind the futon (I'm guessing you cornered her there), and we didn't find out until the middle of the night, when she started meowing and you started screaming "I DO NOT LIKE EMMA!" at the top of your lungs.
But you did like her. In fact, you have been fascinated with her, saying hello to her throughout the day and marveling over her eating habits. "Look!" you'd exclaim during a meal. "Me is eating breakfast with Emma!"
Some of my favorite memories of Emma come from this thing she used to do in New York, something she never really did in San Francisco. She would sit on things--anything that we put on the floor. You can see what I'm talking about here and here and here. She was quite a character.
I am really going to miss her.
Love,
Mom
Tonight we said goodbye to our dear cat Emma. That's the same line I wrote to you when Smokey left us last May, and it seemed fitting to use it again. Emma and Smokey were quite a pair. She was never the same after he was gone.
But her sweet, demanding "Emma" personality still came through. She loved to stalk around the couch in the evenings, yowling at me and Dad to pet her, finally jumping up to sit with us and make it a little easier. She seemed to find her second wind at night, after we'd all gone to sleep, and would meow as loudly as possible. Sometimes from your room, we would hear a little "Hussss!" We all had to hush Emma on a regular basis.
I remember one day a year or so ago when our neighbor Jackson told me that he could hear Emma so clearly that he thought she was in his bedroom. He went tearing down the hallway to his mom and dad's room to tell them there was a cat under his bed. That is how loud Emma could be. When Dad and I lived in New York, our next door neighbor once asked us how the baby was doing. "The baby?" we looked at each other. We didn't have a baby. We think she was talking about Emma, singing her cat songs through the walls. Smokey, though he had it in him to be rowdy, really only yelled when someone was sleeping.
Emma was a lover of music, and Dad says she always had a specific fondness for female vocalists. She was a little timid around strangers, but gained some confidence during her later years and became more of a visible presence when guests were here, at which point she usually required them to shove over and make room for her on the couch.
You liked to spin her around in my old office chair, something that I am guessing was not on her list of top ten ways to spend the day. Chasing Emma became something of a past time, too, and I came into the living room more than once to find you battling a speaker twice your size in order to get to Emma, who cowered behind the TV.
There were a few nights when Emma somehow got stuck in your room behind the futon (I'm guessing you cornered her there), and we didn't find out until the middle of the night, when she started meowing and you started screaming "I DO NOT LIKE EMMA!" at the top of your lungs.
But you did like her. In fact, you have been fascinated with her, saying hello to her throughout the day and marveling over her eating habits. "Look!" you'd exclaim during a meal. "Me is eating breakfast with Emma!"
Some of my favorite memories of Emma come from this thing she used to do in New York, something she never really did in San Francisco. She would sit on things--anything that we put on the floor. You can see what I'm talking about here and here and here. She was quite a character.
I am really going to miss her.
Love,
Mom
Rabu, 02 Januari 2013
Minggu, 30 Desember 2012
Sabtu, 29 Desember 2012
Christmas trip
Dear Scarlett,
What a Christmas we had. We were in Chicago with Nonnie and Pops and basically my entire side of the family. Santa had to bring you a suitcase this year, so you could haul all your loot back to San Francisco. You got books, clothes, stuffed animals, a sit and spin, art supplies, temporary tattoos, puzzles, and cowboy boots. I got The Heart is a Lonely Hunter from my Secret Santa (Shishie) and a day at the spa from Nonnie. It was a fantastic holiday, despite the fact that you were still recovering from an ear infection. On the last day of your antibiotic, you suddenly sprouted hives all over your body. On Day 2 they traveled to your face and you looked like a (very cute) little puffball. We took you to the doctor three times in one week, and you seem to be in better shape now.
But those ears! They just keep getting infected, and we are now following Dr. Becker's suggestion to eliminate gluten and dairy from your diet. This is apparently the new thinking in pediatrics, and was seconded by the doctor we saw last week. I've been off of gluten for more than 7 months after testing positive for an allergy, so I am actually convinced that this will mostly be easy, even though you are a dairy queen of the highest order. The real issue will come when we go out for a meal and try to order something that is not grilled cheese or macaroni and cheese. Or a spoon and cheese.
Also, we are not allowed to call it a diet and are not supposed to mention to you that you are eating different food. Tonight you had [gluten-free] chicken tenders and broccoli for dinner, and [almond milk] ice cream for dessert. You were quite pleased, finishing everything on your plate. We'll try this diet for a couple of weeks and see what happens. Dad is skeptical, since we're not actually sure what should happen, and therefore what success might look like. But we're willing to try, because I think the next conversation is going to be about putting tubes in your ears.
But back to Christmas. I have to admit that I barely saw you. When Nonnie and Pops are around, you don't really let me or Dad put you to bed, get up with you in the morning, dress you, or look directly at you. You are Nonnie's girl. On our last morning, I came into your room to find the two of you fast asleep in each other's arms. And I am not complaining about sleeping those extra hours every day. That really made it feel like a vacation. We got to see most of our Oak Park friends, and you especially enjoyed a dinner out with Sigrid, and a play date at Amanda and Dan's house.
Today you told me, "Amanda's friend did not hug you."
"Who didn't hug you?" I asked.
"NO," you said. "YOU. Amanda's friend did not hug YOU."
"Who is Amanda's friend who didn't hug me?"
"Noah."
Ah yes, Amanda's good friend Noah, also known as her two-year-old son. We exchanged a high five at the end of the morning. The things you notice are fascinating to me. I actually feel like I got lots of hugs and love on our trip. We had a delicious Christmas Eve dinner at Aunt Carolyn's house, with something like 40 people. You were a big hit in your sparkly blue dress, and when you left early with Pops, you blew everyone kisses and began belting out a song on your way out. Later you told me that you had a tantrum in the car and cried and cried. You are always telling on yourself.
So we're back home in San Francisco, and the exciting news is that Nonnie and Pops will be moving here for two months to take care of Baby Jack while Shishie goes back to work. They have their own apartment in a great neighborhood and we will get to see them all the time. I just hope I get to see you, too.
Love,
Mom
What a Christmas we had. We were in Chicago with Nonnie and Pops and basically my entire side of the family. Santa had to bring you a suitcase this year, so you could haul all your loot back to San Francisco. You got books, clothes, stuffed animals, a sit and spin, art supplies, temporary tattoos, puzzles, and cowboy boots. I got The Heart is a Lonely Hunter from my Secret Santa (Shishie) and a day at the spa from Nonnie. It was a fantastic holiday, despite the fact that you were still recovering from an ear infection. On the last day of your antibiotic, you suddenly sprouted hives all over your body. On Day 2 they traveled to your face and you looked like a (very cute) little puffball. We took you to the doctor three times in one week, and you seem to be in better shape now.
But those ears! They just keep getting infected, and we are now following Dr. Becker's suggestion to eliminate gluten and dairy from your diet. This is apparently the new thinking in pediatrics, and was seconded by the doctor we saw last week. I've been off of gluten for more than 7 months after testing positive for an allergy, so I am actually convinced that this will mostly be easy, even though you are a dairy queen of the highest order. The real issue will come when we go out for a meal and try to order something that is not grilled cheese or macaroni and cheese. Or a spoon and cheese.
Also, we are not allowed to call it a diet and are not supposed to mention to you that you are eating different food. Tonight you had [gluten-free] chicken tenders and broccoli for dinner, and [almond milk] ice cream for dessert. You were quite pleased, finishing everything on your plate. We'll try this diet for a couple of weeks and see what happens. Dad is skeptical, since we're not actually sure what should happen, and therefore what success might look like. But we're willing to try, because I think the next conversation is going to be about putting tubes in your ears.
But back to Christmas. I have to admit that I barely saw you. When Nonnie and Pops are around, you don't really let me or Dad put you to bed, get up with you in the morning, dress you, or look directly at you. You are Nonnie's girl. On our last morning, I came into your room to find the two of you fast asleep in each other's arms. And I am not complaining about sleeping those extra hours every day. That really made it feel like a vacation. We got to see most of our Oak Park friends, and you especially enjoyed a dinner out with Sigrid, and a play date at Amanda and Dan's house.
Today you told me, "Amanda's friend did not hug you."
"Who didn't hug you?" I asked.
"NO," you said. "YOU. Amanda's friend did not hug YOU."
"Who is Amanda's friend who didn't hug me?"
"Noah."
Ah yes, Amanda's good friend Noah, also known as her two-year-old son. We exchanged a high five at the end of the morning. The things you notice are fascinating to me. I actually feel like I got lots of hugs and love on our trip. We had a delicious Christmas Eve dinner at Aunt Carolyn's house, with something like 40 people. You were a big hit in your sparkly blue dress, and when you left early with Pops, you blew everyone kisses and began belting out a song on your way out. Later you told me that you had a tantrum in the car and cried and cried. You are always telling on yourself.
So we're back home in San Francisco, and the exciting news is that Nonnie and Pops will be moving here for two months to take care of Baby Jack while Shishie goes back to work. They have their own apartment in a great neighborhood and we will get to see them all the time. I just hope I get to see you, too.
Love,
Mom
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