Big Girl

Last night, while Diana was at her Back To School night, Allison and I went to watch some of the Slap Chop basketball game.  She didn't like the gym buzzer, but otherwise liked watching everyone run around.

 

On the way home, we were talking about how she's three years old now.  And we remembered that her friend Shane was four years old.  I told her that in a year, she'd also be four years old. 

 

Allison:  Yeah, we'll both be four!  (I didn't have the heart to tell her that Shane would be five by this time).

Me:  Yeah!

Allison:  Two fours… that makes eight!  (My heart leapt.  What a smart girl!)    Orrrrr…. Six.

Me:  How much is two fours?

Allison:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8…. 9.

Me:  Great work!  I like how you tried to figure it out.  Try again!

Allison:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9… 10

Me:  I don't think that's quite right.  Try again…

 

It was dark, but I could see her silhouette in my rear view mirror.  She had four fingers held up on each hand.  This time, she touched each one to her mouth in turn, using her lips as a pointer to count each finger.

 

Allison:  1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7… 8!  (This time said with finality).  Eight!

 

Praise was heaped.  Clever girl.

 

She also remembered what we'd told her a while back, which was when she was three years old, she wouldn't have to wear a diaper to bed.  We had tried this before a few weeks ago with predictable results (middle of the night sheet changing).  But we gave it another shot last night.  She woke up with some crying at 3am, and by the time I got out of bed, she was in the bathroom on the toilet.  I went to her bed and found that it was all dry.  She returned without any pants on, so I put on some reserves and got her back in bed.  I found her pants in the bathroom, and found those were also dry!  A full night, no diapers, and everything dry. 

 

Have I changed my last diaper without knowing it would be my last?  Maybe not, but I remain cautiously optimistic.

Happy Birthday Allison!

"Welcome to one of the most exciting days of your life."  -- Email from Gabe exactly three years ago upon hearing that we were on our way to the hospital to give birth.  He wasn't kidding.

Today, Allison is three years old.  It feels simultaneously like a short time and a long time ago that she was born.  I certainly can't describe her completely in a single post, but I'll try to hit some highlights.

Physically, Allison is tall and lean.  My mom has measured her against the wall in the garage (where my brother and my own 30+ years of growth is charted).  Since February, she's grown about 2 inches.  I think she's about 38 inches tall and about the same in pounds.  I don't notice it on a day to day basis, but if she runs around the house without any clothes on, I'm struck at how tall and long she looks.

She's very coordinated.  Still loves to run and climb and jump and play.  She can catch and throw a big ball.  She's taking a gym class and does a good job balancing and bouncing and all the little activities they do there.  She's also taking a swimming class and generally loves splashing around and is quickly becoming a good swimmer.

She's big into letters.  She knows the alphabet and the sound of each letters.  She knows the concept of sounding out words, and can read basic three and four letter words like HAT, TOP, PAT, etc.  She tried to read "AGE" the other day, and sounded out "A" (like "at"), "guh, eh…  Aaa-guh-eh."  English is confusing.  A couple weeks ago, we were out at a park and she shocked me by picking up a stick and writing her name in the dirt.  It's totally scrawled, but the intention of making each letter is totally clear.

Math-wise, she recite the numbers to 29, before wrapping around to "twenty-ten, twenty-eleven", all the way up until "twenty-nineteen".  Otherwise, she can count actual things well, and can count smaller numbers by sight alone (without having to point at each one).  She knows all the dice faces by sight, and can count the spots to get the sum of two dice, or count fingers to add two small numbers together.  She doesn't seem particularly interested in the concept of math, though (as opposed to letters/words/reading, which she really seems to enjoy).

I don't know how to measure her logic ability, but she knows conditions and consequences.  She'll frequently say things along the lines of:  "Daddy, I have an idea.  First we'll play cars, and then we'll have dinner, and then we'll watch the Cars movie."

Her memory is outstanding, and frequently surprise us.  When we go to a park, she'll remember some thing or little detail she saw there months in the past.

Emotionally, Allison is a little bit of a mixed bag.  On one hand, she's not "clingy" at all.  At a playground or supermarket or whatever, she'd happily run off without looking back.  She can still be a little nervous around older boys, but not nearly as much as she used to.  In her gym class, when it's time for the kids to use the drinking fountain, she doesn't try to muscle her way up front, but instead lets everyone else go ahead of her.  She's not being polite, but I think is easily intimidated by bigger kids.

She's in daycare with Dorrie three days a week, and preschool two days a week, and I think both are going really well.  Dropoffs were sometimes a little teary, but now that Diana is back to work and we're in a more regular schedule she runs off happily.  At home, she loves to play with us, and still isn't very interested in playing by herself.  We try to encourage that, but it's tough.

She's very good at controlling her emotions and using her words to tell us how she's feeling.  She'll still get pissed and throw a toy or two, but then she'll stop and say "I'm sad.."  When we ask her why she's sad, she'll say something like "I'm sad because I wanted to do (something) and you didn't let me!"  We then explain why she couldn't do whatever it was she wanted to do.

She loves playing with her cars and trucks.  She LOVES the Disney "Cars" movie.  She likes Disney princesses to a lesser degree, and was enjoying watching "A Bugs Life" for a while.  She likes doing little jigsaw puzzles.  She loves wearing her mom's flip-flops.  As she gets more into toys, I'm finding the disparity between boy and girl toys a little aggravating.  I don't really want to steer her towards totally girly stuff, like Barbies and whatever, because the concept of the toys feels so material and shallow.  The boy options are things like superheroes and Transformers and cars and stuff, but I don't want to seem like I'm intentionally raising a total tom-boy, either.  For example… we were looking at shoes the other day for her.  She loves everything with Lightning McQueen on it, but they don't make any shoes that are even remotely feminine with him on it.  They're all blue tough-looking boy shoes.  What's a Cars-loving girl to do?  :)

She doesn't like some loud noises, and will clamp her hands over her ears in public bathrooms because the toilets automatically flush.  She's beginning to be scared of the dark at night, and wants to sleep with the lights on.  She doesn't like clothes with buttons (no idea about this one…)

She sees Yaya Dawn and Bapa John on a pretty regular basis, and Yaya Carole and Bapa Roger when they are in town, and loves seeing them all.  Various grandparents have various methods of playing with her and paying attention to her, and she seems to enjoy them all equally.

She's still in diapers at night time, but otherwise very nicely potty trained.  She eats well, and weekend naptimes have been pretty regular when I'm around to rock to her sleep.  Her health is generally good, with occasional colds, sinus infections, ear infections, etc.  I'll take a respiratory illness over a gastrointestinal bug any day of the week.  Thankfully nothing more serious than that.  She sleeps well through the night, generally around 8:30pm until 6:30am, plus or minus half an hour on either end.

That's about all I can think of for now.  She's a happy kid, growing and learning and doing everything pretty much by the book.  It's fun to take this opportunity to reflect on the past three years, and think about the next couple years to come.

Beditme Bargaining

"Mommy, where are my bug cards?"
"They're in your playroom on the table, but it's time to stay in bed now."
"The brown table?"
"Yes, but please stay in your bed.  It's time for sleep."
"Ok."
As Diana walked away down the hall...
"Mommy!"
"Yes, Allison?"
"Don't watch me go into the playroom!"

Disneyland!

After cancelling some vacation plans, I was left with a couple scheduled days off of work.  Diana suggested we try out Disneyland, seeing as it's only a little over an hour away.  If everything went to hell, we could always turn around and come home.

We stayed at the Disneyland Hotel.  It's much more expensive compared to the other nearby hotels, and we weren't initially going to stay there, but it was recommended by so many people that we gave it a shot.  In retrospect, I'm not sure we really took advantage of all it had to offer, because it didn't feel that much different than a standard hotel.  Anyway, we drove up on Sunday afternoon, hoping that Allison would take a nap in the car, but that didn't happen.  No big deal.  After getting all checked in and arranged, we jumped in the pool for a while, and then headed over to the park.  Being Sunday, it was super crowded, and we didn't even try to go on any rides, but we watched some of the parade that was going on.  Allison was pretty excited to see some of the characters, and really wanted to go up and talk to them.  It was hard to tell her that we could only watch and wave.  She seemed particularly attracted to Chip and Dale, as well as Mary Poppins.

The evening went well in the hotel.  We were in a room facing Downtown Disney, and there was live music playing, complete with bass thumping through our room.  Kind of annoying but didn't make too big of an impact on either us or Allison, thankfully.  Allison slept on a little converted sofa-bed thing, and Diana and I stretched out in our own queen beds (romantic, I know).

The next day, we got up in and into the park right at opening and were able to do some rides and see some sights.  Allison's very first ride ever at Disneyland was the teacups, and she seemed to like that a lot.  We also did the Alice in Wonderland ride, and she did not like that at all.  Hands clapped over her ears.  It actually is pretty dark and loud in there, both of which are not really favorites.  The carousel was also fun.  We went to some princess dance show, where Snow White, Cinderella, and Aurora made appearances.  The kids are supposed to come up to the front of the audience and do some dancing and learn how to bow and curtsey and stuff.  Allison was a little tentative about doing that.  Diana went with her, but she still was a little nervous about the whole thing.

Later, we were sitting near the castle when Aurora appeared out of nowhere and walked by.  We followed her to her meet-and-greet spot, where Allison held her hand and got her picture taken.  She wanted to ask Aurora if she could walk around with us, but wanted me to ask her.  So I asked for her, and Aurora said that unfortunately she couldn't but that if we returned around 5pm, we could walk with her back to the castle.  We didn't end up taking her up on that opportunity.  Allison also got pictures with Buzz Lightyear and Minnie Mouse.

We also headed over to California Adventure and wandered around a bit there.  A big highlight was taking pictures with life-sized Lightening McQueen and Mater.  They were basically statues with moving eyeballs, but Allison was pretty enthralled.  She kept touching Lightning's hood and walking around.  Very cute.

We went back to the hotel for a nap, and with a little coaxing and rocking, Allison fell asleep in my arms.  Diana stayed in the hotel while I went back to the park for a yummy unhealthy lunch and to see what I could see.  I got a call an hour later that they were up and were heading to the park soon.  Apparently, in spite of our "Privacy Please" sign on the door, housekeeping decided to call to see if we wanted our room cleaned up, waking everyone up in the process.  Ugh.  But Allison woke up happy and wasn't too put off by the whole thing. 

Over the trip, Diana and I were able to get in a couple rides ourselves, like Space Mountain and the Matterhorn.  I went on Thunder Mountain and Pirates, too.  The only ride I really wanted to go on was Indiana Jones, but it was "temporarily unavailable" whenever I walked by it.  It wasn't shut down for good, but seemingly off and on throughout the day.  So I was kind of bummed to miss that.

On Monday night, we switched rooms to a different tower to get away from the noise.  It wasn't as nice a room, but it was quieter.  Allison was just getting herself to sleep around 9:30pm when the fireworks started.  She wasn't totally scared, but pretty distracted by them.  I picked her up and rocked her and she went right to sleep, in spite of the booming.  I put her back to bed, and Diana and I watched the rest of the fireworks from our 10th floor room.  Pretty cool.

Tuesday morning, we hit the park again.  Lots of carousel riding, and some more teacups.  Allison did NOT want to go on the Nemo submarine ride at all.  She informed us she'd go when she was bigger, bigger, bigger.  I wanted to go on, but couldn't coax her and didn't force the issue.  We went on the Autopia cars, and that was just OK.  It was really bumpy for a little person.  Dumbo was also ridden and enjoyed.

By about lunchtime, we'd kind of decided we'd seen all we were going to see and done all we were going to do, so we headed back home.  Allison fell asleep in the car about 10 minutes from home, so we drove for a while longer to let her get some sleep.  When we did get home, I had big plans of trying to get her inside without waking her up, but as soon as the engine turned off, she yawned and stretched and woke up.

All in all, the trip was a success, and I think laid the groundwork for future visits.  I think it was a little more underwhelming than I expected, but I have really skewed expectations of how awesome Disneyland is.  I also tend to picture Allison as older and more mature than she is, in spite of the fact that she's not even three years old yet.  So there's plenty of time for her to mature and be a little more prepared for all that Disneyland has to offer.  I'm really looking forward to going back in the future and reliving some of my childhood memories with her.

It's funny.  I remember going to Disneyland as a kid, and thinking that Sleeping Beauties castle looked huge and awe-inspiring.  When I've gone back as an adult, I realized that it's not much more than a two story building with some towers on it.  Going back with Allison, it actually looked bigger, like it was refinished or something.  Funny thing, that.

Bachelor Party

Now is the time that I recount the adventure of Eryn's bachelor party.

A family friend of Eryn's has a house on these crazy man-made lakes up near Bakersfield.  These lakes are designed specifically for waterskiing, wakeboarding, and the like, so they are about half a mile long and an eighth of a mile across, and only about 6-7 feet deep.  Really weird bodies of water, but perfect for skiing.  The plan was to drive up for a long weekend of skiing, gaming, and generally hanging out.

Most of the guys (Iwan, Gabe, Justin, Mike, Eryn, and Bob) drove up on Thursday night, arriving late, but I'm sure not late enough to enjoy a few adult beverages.  Norm and I elected to drive up Friday morning, and it was an easy drive.  I like my time with Norm, as we are the same breed of geek, and have very interesting conversations about the nature of things.  Politics, free will, traffic patterns.

We arrived by lunchtime at the "house", which was really just a couple of trailer sized buildings next to the lake.  Sounds a little sketchy, but it was actually pretty homey.  Suzanne had laid out some lunch, and Craig was driving the ski boat as some of the guys were wake boarding.  Craig and Suzanne taking wonderful care of us was a constant theme of the weekend.  On the way up, we must have passed Iwan, who had only spent the night before going home to spend some time with his family.

The afternoon was filled with wakeboarding and tubing, beer, games, and plenty of hanging out.  Cornhole, a bean-bag-toss type game was introduced, and many pitched battles were fought.  After 100 degree heat, the relatively cool evening was welcome relief.   Gabe brought up some lobster tails, which went down nicely next to the steak and shrimp provided by our hosts.  Games were played, drinks were drunk, and Gabe and Justin brought out the fishing rods and bait.  Turns out there were catfish in the lake, and we each had a turn catching 'em.  The recipe for success was pretty simple:  stinky catfish bait (chicken livers with blood, I think), and wait about 3 minutes and pull in the fish.  Catfish are ugly motherfuckers, I'll give them that.

Late in the evening (like, 2am late), I was hitting my grouchy time and ready to head to bed.  As Norm and I arrived late, our sleeping situation wasn't really squared away yet.  The options appeared to be a sleeping bag on the floor with a bunch of other guys, or a nice bed in a quiet room in one of the trailers.  It became clear pretty quickly that we both wanted the bed (obviously), and neither one of us appeared ready to acquiesce.  Gabe and Justin were all fired up on holding a fishing contest to see who got the bed, to which we finally agreed.  While Norm and I sat on the ends of our respective docks, the onlookers cheered and heckled and wallowed in the tension created by such high stakes.  It was a long few minutes, but in the end, I got the first bite and started reeling it in.  Norm got a bite even before I got my fish on the dock, so it was a close battle.  Only feeling slightly guilty, I headed to bed.  (Norm reported sleeping just fine in the other room (though he was probably just being polite), but it seemed like it all worked out).

The next morning was a little more subdued.  People were hung over (a little) and sore (a lot), so we mostly chatted on the porch and enjoyed the sunny weather.  There had been some talk about a slack-line being available, and Craig found it and handed it to me, and we got that set up.  A slackline is kind of like a tightrope -- a two-inch-wide piece of strap that is winched between two trees.  You can make it as tight or as loose as you want, but no matter how tight you get it, it still wobbles and bounces.  I spent the next hour or two practicing that, and it was insanely addictive.  At first, I'd stand on one end and hold on to an overhead branch for support.  As soon as I'd let go, there would be uncontrollable wobbling, and I'd lose balance.  But with some persistence, I was soon able to take a step or two before falling.

I was shocked at how much of a workout it was.  For the rest of the morning, I'd give a couple tries, sit on the porch to rest and chat, and then try again.  Eventually, though, I was able to walk across the entire distance, probably 25-30 feet.  I was very proud of myself.  I'm pretty interested in learning more about slacklining.

The afternoon was more wakeboarding and hanging out.  Norm had to leave, and Iwan returned to take his place.  Bob was in charge of entertainment for Saturday night, and had reservations for dinner and there was some talk of visiting some of Bakersfield's finest entertainment for discerning gentlemen, but as the afternoon wore on, and after how much fun we had the previous night, we decided that maybe it would be more fun to stay in.  And so we did.  More dinner, drinking, games, and catfishing, and off to bed.

The next morning was spent cleaning up and thanking our gracious hosts, and then the drive home.  A great weekend all the way around, and a hopefully a nice send-off for Eryn, who left the 
following day for London for the foreseeable future.


These pictures are unsorted and raw, but fun to see.

Eryn Bachelor Party Pictures

Black eye

Last night, Diana was getting Allison ready for bed.  I was hanging out in the family room out on the sofa.  In very rapid succession, I heard Diana gasp, some falling/crashing, and Allison screaming in fear and pain.

Apparently Allison was standing on her little step in front of the bathroom sink, and reaching over to flip the lightswitch.  I guess she lost her balance and fell, hitting the side of her face against the door frame.  I got her some ice, and she was crying pretty hard in Diana's arms for a while.  Already, a bump the size of a small grape was forming at the outer corner of her left eyebrow, right on the bone between her temple and eyeball.  We tried to console and comfort her, and applied ice as best we could.  Between sobs, she was complaining that she couldn't stop crying.  I tried to soothe her and have her take some deep breaths, and she said again, between sobs, that she couldn't take deep breaths.  I was proud of her for trying and for verbalizing, in spite of everything.

Within just a few minutes, though, she was calmed down.  I poked around and decided that she hadn't broken any bones in her eye socket, nor did she seem like she'd had a concussion or anything.

I went in to see her at night, and through the darkness, I could see that her upper eyelid was swelling up pretty good.  And sure enough, this morning, her upper eyelid is swollen and bruised, and her cheek is a bit swollen, too.  Her eye isn't swollen completely shut, but probably 30-50%.  She seemed happy and normal this morning, and I was pretty confident that this was going to be a nice black eye, and not much more.

Diana took her to the pediatrician, just to get checked out, and called with the results.  Everything checked out well, except for her vision test.  I guess they tested each eye, having Allison look at shapes at some distance, and she wasn't seeing as clearly with her bruised eye as with the other side.  So the doctor referred her and they're on the way to the ophthalmologist to get checked out.

A very large part of me says "well, duh, of course she can't see as well out of an eye that's so swollen.  Everything will be fine once the swelling goes down."  But it's still worrying, especially when I'm stuck in the office with nothing I can do about it.  Makes it kind of hard to concentrate.  I don't want anything to be wrong with her little eyeballs.  Poor little thing.

UPDATE:  Diana reports that Allison is fine.  This is the first time her vision has been tested, so we don't have any baseline to work from, but it appears that one of her eyes (the bruised one) is slightly worse than the other one, and both eyes are slightly less than 20/20, but not bad enough to do anything about (glasses, etc).  So we just need to check her vision in a while and see how things progress.

Montana, etc

So, after a week in Montana and a few glorious summer days at home, I've returned back to the workday grind.  It's a real kick in the crotch to enjoy a few days of freedom and relatively lazy days and then go back to work.  I could get used to an extended stay at home vacation.

Montana was a much different trip than years past.  Gone are the days of long, lazy hikes, 4-hour floats down the Flathead, or just reading on the porch, enjoying the quiet solitude.  Activities were much more bite-sized this time around, including a few trips to the swimming pool, a gondola ride to the top of the ski mountain, and a trip to a little kiddie-friendly ranch, each of which was also rewarding in its own way.  It was great to see my parents, and I know they enjoyed spending more prolonged time with their granddaughter.

One of the highlights was visiting this little ranch.  They had goats and horses and other animals to pet and feed and ride.  The lady running the place was very nice, and offered a horse ride for Allison.  Diana was a little dubious at first, but we all figured the lady knew what she was doing, so we got Allison all saddled up and on the back of a full sized horse.  She had a little crash-helmy and everything.  After one walk around the yard (with me walking alongside), she kind of leaned over and said she wanted to get down.  I reassured her and told her to stick with it, and she did.  After a few more rounds, I asked if she wanted more or wanted to get down, and she wanted to keep going.  It was really cute to watch.

Another highlight was riding the gondola to the top of Big Mountain, the local ski resort.  It was a beautiful day, and we walked around the top and had lunch up there.  On the way down, we discussed going on the little alpine sled track track.  This is a 200 yard long bobsled track that you ride down on a sled with a handbrake for speed control.  I asked Allison if she wanted to go down with me, and she did.  She called it the shiny silver track with the "yellow boats".  We hopped on the sled and waited our turn.  I had a pretty good feeling that she would like it, but if she didn't, it was going to be a long ride down with no way out.  As I hoped, she loved it.  Giggled and yelled "faster!" the whole way down.  Awesome.

Travelling to and from Montana was pretty easy, as well.  Diana brought a lot of toys and distractions, but by far the biggest and easiest tool was the movie "Cars" preloaded on the iPad.  In general, Diana and I use video stimulation as little as possible.  But plugging an "I'm getting cranky" kid and pretty much guaranteeing an hour and a half of quiet happiness is hard to beat.

Allison continues to grow and develop and learn.  She had a little bout of stomach issues, but has otherwise been healthy.  She's really can run the range from angel to demon.  Sometimes so sweet, and some times such a little snot.  It's really fascinating to watch when she gets upset, because it's almost as if she is completely impulsive and can't quite control her emotions.  It's like she knows how she's supposed to act, or what she isn't supposed to do, but just can't help herself.  She hits and scratches, throws her toys and goes into full body, arched-back fits, and honestly, we're still trying to figure out exactly how to handle them.  Mostly, we try to send clear messages of what is and is not appropriate, and react accordingly.  Timeouts and taking away toys hasn't seemed to have had much effect.  I've been trying to purposely ignore the behavior, and that seems to work a little better.  That is, if we're sitting quietly and playing and she gets upset and hit me, I'll say something like "If you hit me, then I don't want to play with you" and walk away.  At this point, that seems to be more effective than anything else.  I'm pretty confident that this is all totally natural behavior, and that we're laying pretty good foundation for how to deal with frustration in a healthy way.  It's tough being a two year old.  When you're a one-year-old, you can do anything you want and do no wrong.  Now all of a sudden you have to follow all sorts of arbitrary rules.  I don't blame her for getting upset.  (Now I'm just rambling).

In contrast with the above, she can also be so sweet and fun.  She still loves to play with us, favorites being hide and seek and chase.  She loves playing with her little people, and having them play hide and seek or have a birthday party.  Disney "Cars" is an all-time favorite, and she knows all the cars and what they say.  I'm frequently prompted to be Chick Hicks while she is Lightning McQueen and we race somewhere.  Good times.

That's What People Do

Last night, Allison was a little antsy before bedtime.  She was in her room, kind of playing in her bed, and wandering around her room.  She'd come out to use the bathroom, and linger on her way back to her bed, in spite of my urging.

We finally got back to her room, and she confronted me.

"Daddy, I have lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of questions for you."  (When she gets going on a string of "lots and lots", it can seriously go on for 20 or 30 seconds).  And "I have a question for you" means "I have something to say."
 
I decided to play along, and sat on the floor.  "Yes, Allison?"

She pulled up the little foot-step for the rocking chair and sat on it right in front of me, very serious.

"Sometimes, people lie in their beds.  And then they get up and go to the potty.  And when they are all done on the potty, they go back to their rooms, and get in bed, and lie down and dream.  That's what people do."

The phrase "that's what people do" is relatively new.  A few days ago, she went to the bathroom and closed the door.  When I asked her to keep the door open, she similarly explained to me that when people go to the potty, they want to be alone, and so they close the door.  That's what people do.

She was so cute, all serious and sitting on her little stool, telling me how the world works.  I thanked her for the explanation and tucked her in to bed.

Update

Last weekend, Diana headed up to Santa Cruz to visit her sister.  It sounds like she had a really nice time up there, and I had a great time with Allison.  Diana made things very easy for me by packing up various meal and making sure we were all stocked with food before she left, which was really, really helpful.  Allison and I hit up Legoland, and played with grandparents.  On Sunday, though, she didn't want to take a nap, and we headed down to the Hamson's beach house in the afternoon for playing and dinner.  It was a lot of fun, but we didn't stay nearly as long as I would have hoped because we were both pretty zonked.  I didn't realize how important Allison's naps are to my own mental health.  Diana returned late on Monday, and I was thankful for that.  It wasn't a difficult weekend by any stretch, but it's a lot of constant effort.  I felt like I was "on" all the time.

I woke up in the "pain" phase of a migraine on Saturday morning.  A pretty crappy way to start off the weekend, as the lingering effects of a migraine last a day or two for me.  On Sunday, we hit up Legoland with my mom and checked out its new water park.  It was SUPPOSED to be a hot sunny day, but turned out to be pretty overcast and windy.  The water in the kids pool was also pretty chilly.  So we didn't last too long, but it was fun to try, and I'm sure will be a staple over the summer.

Allison is doing well.  She can be very assertive, which we encourage in certain situations.  If she wants to be alone, she'll state very loudly "NO.  Leave me uh-LONE!"  However, she sometimes tells us what we should and shouldn't be doing (when it doesn't relate to her as well).  She has a tough lesson of "Not everyone does what Allison says" in front of her.  But everyone is happy and healthy.  (Apparently Norm and Tyler got super ill the day after we saw them.  I'm glad we didn't get whatever they had!)

Other big news is that Allison is now exclusively sleeping in her "big girl bed", a hand-me-down toddler bed from the Buhrs (thanks Buhrs!).  It took a couple nights to get used to the idea, but the crib is disassembled and in the garage, so there's no going back.  Naptime can still be hit-or-miss on the weekends.  When it's a "miss", it's still a source of big frustration on our parts.  We try to do everything we can to get her to sleep, but if she fights it, then we get frustrated, she gets tired and cranky, and it makes for a long afternoon.  Such was the case yesterday.  She falls asleep easily at night, though, but on the days that she's skipped a nap, she'll invariable wake up with a "night terror" about two hours after falling asleep.  Last night, Diana and I were watching "The Wire", and we heard her crying.  I went in there, and she was standing on her bed, facing into the corner (Blair Witch-style) with her arms out in front of her a little.  I picked her up, but she was in a weird sleep-state, crying and looking around, but not seeing or hearing anything.  But 30 seconds of rocking and she was sleeping peacefully again.  So weird.  As I said, it only happens on nights that she's skipped her nap.

Not much other news.  Work is going well.  We hired a new boss to replace our old manager who retired a while back.  Seems like a good guy.  I'm still playing and thinking about Red Dead Redemption every spare moment.  Diana's school  year is winding down, and summer is looming.  Very exciting.

iPad and Red Dead Redemption

New Toys       

After sitting squarely on the fence, Diana and I bought an iPad.  The idea was that it would fill a number of purposes, from portable movie player and book reader, as well as email/Facebook checker, game player, educational toy, etc.  I think it will take a little while to actually figure out how this little device will fit into our lives.  It's beautiful and fun to play with, but it still feels like a weird hybrid.  I was able to convert previously ripped DVDs and get them on the pad.  That certainly will help with our upcoming plane trips with Allison.  We also got a little learn-to-read app that she can play.  Maybe surprisingly, I'm somewhat reluctant to just plug her in to a screen at such a young age.  As I said, we're still figuring out how it will play into our routine.

The same day, I also bought "Red Dead Redemption", Rockstar's latest and greatest offering since Grand Theft Auto IV.  GTA, it should be noted, was voted "Game of the Year" by dozens of major publications, and critics are already raving about RDR.  I've played about 3 hours over the past two nights, and am about as fired up as I've been about any game ever.  They absolutely nailed my perception of the old Wild West.  The towns are as dirty and gritty and determined as their inhabitants, and the landscape is breathtakingly beautiful.  It just feels so damn cool to mosey down the middle of a town and watch and listen to the people.  Or ride out into the wilderness on your horse under the starlight, and listen to the howling wolves.

Horseback riding is a major mode of transportation, and it's a ton of fun.  They really do a great job of making your horse feel alive, with a mind of its own.  You don't drive your horse like a car by pushing a button for forward and a button for backward.  But you can turn him, and kick him to make him go.  If you're riding with a group, he'll naturally follow the horses in front of him, so you don't have to manually steer the whole time.  Kick him a lot, and he'll go pretty fast, but kick him too much and he'll buck you off.  So even riding somewhere is a fun little mini-game of going as fast as you can without pissing off your horse too much.

One of the main selling points of the game is your ability to make moral choices.  The nature of good and evil have always been topics in Grand Theft Auto, with corrupt cops and benevolent gangsters.  I've only seen the tip of the iceberg, I hope.  As an example, I was out riding, and heard some gunfire.  I went to investigate, and saw two men chasing a third and shooting at him.  The two men were wearing badges.  What should I do?  I ended up shooting the bad guy, and the good guys thanked me.  I don't remember if I earned any other rewards.  I'll bet that if I shot the lawmen the bad guy would have thanked me and rewarded me as well.

I could go on and on, but I'll cut it short.  I've played poker in a saloon, helped drive cattle to pasture, shot and skinned deer, skunks, rabbits, coyotes, and even an armadillo.  I've helped the Sheriff raid a bandit hideouts, rescued a lady being carried off by a bad guy, shot the rope of a noose to save a hanging man, and found and deciphered an old treasure map.  Each of those events leads to rewards and more and more stuff to do.  It's just overwhelmingly delicious, and I'm just at the beginning.

As best of all, Diana appreciates the background sounds of desert wilderness over the honking and cursing and gunfire of Liberty City.

Healthy!

Just to follow up, Allison is back to 100%.

It was crummy timing.  We had a busy weekend planned, visiting friends, birthday parties, etc, and we had to cancel out of all those.  Allison's temperature was up over 103 on Saturday, and she was pretty low on energy.  Motrin helped get over the hump, and by Sunday afternoon she still had a low fever, but was back to her normal self.  Daycare has a policy of "don't show up if you've had a fever in the last 24 hours", so I took my final sick day on Monday, and we headed to Legoland instead!  It was a really fun day.

One of Allison's daycare friends has roseola, which is a virus that causes high fever followed by a rash.  So we're on the lookout for that.  The good news, though, is that everyone is happy and healthy and feeling fine.

*sigh*

Allison has had a runny nose for two weeks now, and was put on antibiotics for a sinus infection at the beginning of last week.  Now she has a fever and sore throat.

She's happy, compliant, and good-natured.  And sick.  It seems like forever since she's been healthy for more than a few weeks at a time.  But from what I've heard, it's pretty typical for this age.

It's funny to talk to my parents about this kind of stuff.  They remember my brother being on antibiotics for months seemingly months at a stretch for never ending ear infections.

Could be a lot worse, but I'm hoping it gets better soon.

Mark it down!

Allison read her first word all by herself today.  We were in the bath playing with letters, and I was arranging them and she was sounding them out.  I laid out "PAT", and she sounded out each letter, but couldn't get to the word.  When I helped her along, she got it.

Then I laid out "TAP", and she said:  "tuh... aaaa...  puh....   TAP!"  Her first unaided read word.

*proud*

I then laid out "BED", and she said very carefully, with her finger underlining each letter:  "buh-nyeah-nah.  Banana!"

Not perfection yet, but a good start.

I like this post, alot!

If seeing the word "alot" makes you cringe, read this.

Helping out.

One of my earliest memories is of my dad building a play house for us in the back yard.  I must have been three years old or so.  I remember he was up on top of the thing, a good six feet up in the air, with a bunch of nails and was hammering away.  I came toddling out with my little wooden play hammer, and asked if I could help.  Obviously it was not a safe environment for a three year old, and I'm sure my dad was hot and tired and working hard.  He rejected my offer for help.  I distinctly remember my abject disappointment.

I brought this up recently to him, and our reactions to it were amusing because we both kind of reversed our initial feelings.  I said that I obviously understood why I couldn't get up there and help out, and he felt disappointed that he was a "bad dad" and that he should have taken the time to let me pound in a nail or something.

So, with that in mind, this afternoon I attacked the weeds that have been choking our side yard.  This was not tiny little dandelions in the middle of the lawn, but literally 4-6 food monsters growing in our totally neglected side alley.  Allison came out to visit, and saw me working with some clippers, and called for Mommy and asked where her toy pliers were.  Diana got them, and I cut up some little pieces of weeds so that she could pick them up with her pliers and put them in the garbage can.  She was so cute and so helpful.

(I just re-read this post. The point of this is NOT a comparison of my fathering skills to that of my own dad (that's not a game I'll win), but rather that I'm thankful to be able to apply some lessons learned from the past.)

She's been going through quite a politeness renaissance lately, with lots of pleases and thank yous and your welcomes.  We're enjoying it while it lasts.

Bedtime stories...

Allison is lying in bed right now, telling stories to herself.

"Once upon a time there was a young girl named Cinderella and she had two sisters who were yucky to her.
And she cried and cried.  And then her fairy godmother came and she heard her and fairy godmother said (something).
Cinderella said "Ok, I'll be a good listener..."

And then she got distracted, talking out a friend's birthday party, and cupcakes.  "After my nap, we have a cupcake for Shayne's birthday!  I LOVE cupcakes.  Cupcake.  Cupcake...... CUUUUPPPPPPCAAAAAKKKKE!"

Statistics

I recently read an article about statistics.  It was pretty eye-opening for me, because it really showed me 1) how illiterate we are in basic statistics, and 2) how easy it is to fool someone with important sounding facts.

Part of the problem about statistics, I think, is that they seem so readily accessible to the average person, but how tricky and counter-intuitive they actually can be.

One of the examples from the article was the OJ Simpson trial.  The prosecution went to great lengths to show that OJ was a wife-abuser.  The defense conceded the point, but said "Look, only 1 in 2500 men who beat their wives actually end up killing them."  I could easily see myself sitting on the jury, and having that argument bear some weight.  Yes, he might be a terrible person, but does that imply that he killed his wife?  Just because he abused his wife doesn't mean he killed her.  That's reasonable.

The real question that should be asked is "If he abused his wife, and she was murdered by someone, then what are the chances that it was the husband?"  This is a much more accurate question, and changes the probabilities significantly.

Here's another fun one:
The probability that a woman has breast cancer is 0.8 percent.  If a woman has breast cancer, the probability is 90 percent that she will have a positive mammogram.  If a woman does not have breast cancer, the probability is 7 percent that she will still have a positive mammogram.  Imagine a woman who has a positive mammogram.  What is the probability that she actually has breast cancer?
Quick, what is your gut estimate?

From the article:

"When Gigerenzer asked 24 other German doctors the same question, their estimates whipsawed from 1 percent to 90 percent.   Eight of them thought the chances were 10 percent or less, 8 more said 90 percent, and the remaining 8 guessed somewhere between 50 and 80 percent.  Imagine how upsetting it would be as a patient to hear such divergent opinions.  As for the American doctors, 95 out of 100 estimated the woman’s probability of having breast cancer to be somewhere around 75 percent.  The right answer is 9 percent."

Amazing stuff.  I guess the point is to be skeptical of what you believe, even if there is numerical data to back it up.  (Did you know that 85% of all stomach cancer patients drank cow's milk for years as children?)

Read this article when you have a moment.

Are Video Games Art?

Two very interesting questions have been circulating around online recently.


The first is:  are video games art?


The reason this is such a discussion is because of Roger Ebert.  At one point in time, way back in 2005, he claimed that not only were video games NOT art, but that they never could be considered art.  His claims appear to center around conflicting core definitions of "art" and "game".  "Video games by their nature require player choices, which is the opposite of the strategy of serious film and literature, which requires authorial control."


More recently, after being presented with a talk about games being art, he again took the opportunity to voice his opinion. 


I find various flaws in his logic.  For example:


"One obvious difference between art and games is that you can win a game. It has rules, points, objectives, and an outcome. Santiago might cite a immersive game without points or rules, but I would say then it ceases to be a game and becomes a representation of a story, a novel, a play, dance, a film. Those are things you cannot win; you can only experience them."


I would strenuously argue that Ebert is misinterpreting the "game" part of "video game".  Many, if not most, video games are narrative.  You play the part of a character moving through a pre-scripted story.  Along the way, you have some options, but in the end, you are constrained by the storyline.  You don't "win" those games as much as you "experience" them.  These are obviously still "video games", although a more appropriate title might be "interactive experiences".  This might be the root of the whole debate.  Examples of this are almost too numerous to name:  Doom, Half-Life, Grand Theft Auto, Sierra On-Line adventure games, etc.  Almost any game that has a "story mode".


Contrast these "games" with more traditional games, like chess or backgammon.  There is no narrative or expression, only a set of rules to be followed.


At this point in time, it's probably worth nothing that Ebert has never actually played a video game, so it shouldn't be surprising that he doesn't know what he's talking about.  When presented with some very likely candidates of artistic games ("Flower" and "Braid"), he says:  " The … games she chooses as examples do not raise my hopes for a video game that will deserve my attention long enough to play it. They are, I regret to say, pathetic."


Just to belabor a point:  He's judging the artistic value of these games from, most likely, a YouTube video.  Certainly this isn't fair.  One must judge a medium in the way it's supposed to be presented.  Movies are meant to be watched.  Food is meant to be eaten.  Games are meant to be played.  You can't judge a movie by only listening to the audio track.  And you can't judge a painting by reading about it.


Ebert believes “the real question is, do we as their [games, movies, etc.] consumers become more or less complex, thoughtful, insightful, witty, empathetic, intelligent, philosophical (and so on) by experiencing them? Something may be excellent as itself, and yet be ultimately worthless.”


I admit at they are few and far between, but I've experienced plenty of gaming moments that have caused me to sit back in my chair and say "Wow".  Some games have certainly provoked at least as much heavy though about the world around me and the nature of humanity as many art exhibits, plays, or movie I've seen.


One of my favorite examples is Defcon.  Defcon is a game about nuclear annihilation.  The view of the game is a computer generated world map, drawn in simple lines like the big screens in the end of the movie "WarGames".  Each player controls a continent, and begins the game by placing radar stations, nuclear missile launch sites, subs, bombers, etc.  At the beginning of the game, only conventional weapons are allowed, but as time passes and the defcon levels are counted down, nuclear weapons become available.


At DefCon 1, it's almost a certainty that all out nuclear war will begin.  Launches are detected, both friendly and enemy, and on your radar arcing beams of light begin to trace a path across the earth as a haunting soundtrack plays.  When a nuke hits a target city, there is a flash of light on the screen, and a barely audible thud.  The words "Los Angeles hit, 6.8M dead" flash on the screen.  The initial flash fades into a dull green glow that lingers for the rest of the game.  The contrast between such imagined devastation and the little blips of light on your screen is really very powerful.  You can't help but picture yourself as a General, sitting in a bunker half a mile below a mountain somewhere, imagining what the fuck is actually going on up there.


The game ends and a winner is determined by the fewest number of casualties, which always is numbered in the millions.  The message is clear:  in nuclear war, no one wins, some just loses the least.


I'm pretty sure that one game has had at least as much emotional impact on me personally as any painting I've ever seen in my life (which is to say "some, but not much",  Then again, I've never particularly liked paintings).


(Remember, games are meant to be played, not watched, but here's at least a little taste.  Skip to 1:30 to watch the beginning of the devastation.)

The second question that has arisen from all this is "who cares"?  Why is it so important for gamers to feel that our beloved time-wasters are "art"? 


I admit, this has me a little stumped.  I guess part of it is the injustice of it all.  Certainly not all games are artistic, but many are, and I think they should be recognized as such.  Secondly, as I've pointed out above, it's hard to see someone with so much clout make such an uneducated, public opinion.  If the editor of a video games magazine made salient points about why video games aren't art, I'd totally respect that.  But Roger "I've never played a video game but am somehow qualified to comment" Ebert?!


I'm not a lawyer, but I imagine that "art" has some legal definition.  Things with artistic merit maybe have some protection against obscenity charges?


In the end, I guess it doesn't really matter.  "Art" is nebulous enough to warrant it's own debate as to its definition.  I know what I think, and without better, more exact definitions, I don't think I can be "wrong".

Scheduling

I just went to the refrigerator in the break room to fill up my water bottle.  I rounded the corner, and there was my colleague Jack JUST starting to fill up his water bottle.  I have a standard 20oz Aquafina bottle, and he as a 1.5L (~50oz) bottle.

I immediately tell him that he should let me go first because I have the smaller bottle  (it should be noted that Jack and I are on very familiar terms, so I can say these things).  He looks at me, like, "go to hell."  So I wait until he's done, and then fill up my bottle, meanwhile getting into a discussion with a third coworker about how this reminds me of my operating systems class in college, and how to schedule computing tasks.  First-come, first-served?  Shortest job first?

Back at my desk, I do some scratch work.

Adam has a 20oz bottle.
Jack has a 50oz bottle.
Let's assume that the fridge serves 1oz/second for easy math.

So, it takes me 20 seconds to fill my bottle, and 50 seconds for Jack to fill his bottle.
If I go first, and then Jack, then I wait 20 seconds (and leave), and Jack waits 20+50=70 seconds.
If Jack goes first, then Jack waits 50 seconds (and leaves), and I wait 50+20=70 seconds.

So who should go first?  One answer depends on whether you're Jack or Adam.  :)

However, if Jack and I are a TEAM, whose interests are locked together (which, you know, I kind of like to think we are), then we need to look at the total times.

If I go first, the total time we BOTH wait is 70+20=90 seconds.
If Jack goes first, the total time we BOTH wait is 50+70=120 seconds.

He should have let me go first.  After I figure this out, I showed him my calculations.  He looked at me, like, "go to hell."  :)

This kind of scheduling isn't just esoteric computer stuff.  Imagine you're a sushi chef taking orders.  Do you fill the orders in the order they are received, independent of how long it takes?  Or do you sometimes fill the smaller orders out of turn to get them out of the way?  If so, then you obviously can't postpone the bigger order indefinitely, so what is the right balance?  In the long run, what is best for your business?

I actually started designing a board game around this exact concept, but never got anywhere with it.  But the potential is there.

Cyberchondria

My name is Adam S., and I am a cyberchondriac.

From Wikipedia:
"Cyberchondria (or cyberchondriasis) refers to the unfounded escalation of concerns about common symptomology based on review of search results and literature online. Articles in popular media position cyberchondria anywhere from temporary neurotic excess to adjunct hypochondria. Cyberchondria is a growing concern among many healthcare practitioners as patients can now research any and all symptoms of a rare disease, illness or condition, and manifest a state of medical anxiety."

(I was originally going to write "hypochondriac" up there, but saw the link to "cyberchondriac" and thought that was more appropriate).

At some point in my adult life, I've become very aware of my body and its sensations.  I frequently feel my heart thudding in my chest (particularly if it skips or double-beats), and all sorts of run-of-the-mill aches and pains and spasms get amplified into significant issues.  It's not a pervasive problem that affects me all the time, but it really can cause some anxiety in short term bursts.

When I turned 35, I decided it would be a good idea to schedule a physical exam.  I had a laundry list of minor problems that I wanted to talk about (warts on my feet, expired migraine medication, etc).  It had been years since I'd seen a doctor, so I figured 35 was as good a time as any to get a status update.  If there were any problems, they could be discovered and treated, and if not, then at least I'd have some baseline results for comparison as I get older.

My physical went fine, but I had to come back a day later (after fasting overnight) to give blood and a urine sample.  I then scheduled a followup appointment to discuss the results of said tests.  At that followup appointment, my doctor went over my numbers from my tests.  Every value fell right in line with the normal tolerances.  My cholesterol numbers are spectacular, due to some awesome genetics.  There was one exception, though, circled on my chart.  I had red blood cells in my urine.  My doctor (who is kind of a strange guy with not the best bedside manner) wanted me to do another test.  So I headed to the lab and peed in another cup.

By the time I got back to work, I'm already starting to freak out.  Blood in my urine?  What does that mean?  Of course, I go to the same source that I used to answer all my other questions in life:  Google.

Google tells me that RBCs in the urine (microhematuria, I now know it to be called, or frank hematuria if you can actually see the blood) can by cased my many issues, some harmless, some life-threatening (my stomach lurches as I read this) and sometimes the cause is never discovered.  Over the course of the next hour, I wonder if I have kidney disease, kidney cancer, bladder cancer, prostate cancer.  If I'm lucky, maybe it's just kidney stones or early onset prostate enlargement.  I picture my organs getting x-rayed and ghostly white blobs showing up where they're not supposed to be.  I wonder if I'll have to find someone to donate a kidney.

I barely slept that night.  That was Thursday.

On Friday, I called in the afternoon to see if my results were in, and they said they'd call back when they got them. I never got a call back.  I got a login and password to their online system so that I could login and check my charts online, but there was a bit of a mixup and my information wasn't available.  It would be fixed on Monday.

Over the weekend, I was a bit better.  I could convince myself that maybe it wasn't such a big deal.  Or if it was a big deal, well, it was a bridge that would be crossed in due time.  There was nothing I could do about it.

I remember as a kid a TV commercial about a guy being scared to go to the doctor because he didn't want to hear bad news.  I remember my dad commenting about it being a stupid commercial (strong words from Papa S, which is why it sticks out in my memory).  If there is bad news, it's there whether you go to the doctor or not, and learning about it early is always better.  I resigned myself to just having to wait out the weekend, and steeled myself against whatever bad news was coming.  But I still checked my pee.  Did it look darker than usual?

This morning, after dropping off Allison and driving to work, I pictured what was going to happen today.  I'd get a call from my doctor's office (or worse, my doctor himself).  They'd say I needed to come in for more testing.  This would lead to urinary tract imaging, and who knows what from there.  At almost that exact moment, my cell phone rang.  It was my doctors office.

The nurse was just calling to inform me that my repeat urinalysis came back normal.

A chorus of angels burst out in song as a beam of heavenly light broke through the clouds and shone down through my car window.  An amazingly enough, the mysterious pangs of discomfort I'd been feeling in my lower abdomen immediately cleared up.  As anxious as I'd felt all weekend, I feel the opposite right now.

It's strange, because I'm typically not a stress-ball about much of anything.  I can definitely look back on this weekend and laugh at myself, and hopefully apply some lessons learned in the future.