On Sunday, Henry got up around 6AM or so. He'd had a good nights sleep. He played with his toys, and we read "Rainbow Rob" for the millionth time.
I guess that I woke up on the wrong side of the bed because I was critically analyzing Rainbow Rob. It ends with a passage that goes something like, "Rainbow Rob's dream was done. He made some friends and had some fun. But most of all, he learned to see that being yourself is the way to be." Just about all children's stories end with good morals platitudes, like "Be yourself," "It doesn't matter how you look, it just matters who you are," and "Good things happen to good people." I just wondered at what point in a person's development these platitudes go by the wayside. How is it that our society has an entire generation who worships at the shallow altar of Paris Hilton and friends? Just seems like well over a majority of people don't care about learning or reading; they just care about how they look, how much money they have, and how popular they are.
Are we setting children up for disappointment and failure but not being a bit more realistic from the get-go about how life works? Jeff asked what story lines changes did I have in mind. I guess if one was going to write a realistic children's series, one could write stories with catchy titles such as "Bad Things Happen to Good People," "Life's Not Fair," to which Jeff added "Why Me?: The Nancy Kerrigan Story." Last week, I showed "The Truth About Lies," which is a very well-done Bill Moyer's video on lies and politics. Between that and reading about some preemie experiences from parents who have older preemies who are dealing with sensory integration disorders and being bullied at school for being different (with absolutely no support or protection from teachers who just let kids torture special needs kids), I've been in a pretty bad mood and rather disappointed in humanity.
On Sunday, Jeff and I took Henry to Tohono Chul Park for breakfast. We had such a good time the weekend before, we figured that it would be nice to go there again. We ate in the front courtyard this time, and Henry tried bites of scone and black beans. The black beans were a little bit to hard for him, but he really enjoyed the pieces of scone. We took him into the garden after we had finished eating. Henry liked watching the gardener water the plants with a hose.
Henry spent the day with Grandma and Grandpa. Jeff and I went to the movies in the morning to see "Sex in the City." There is a funny scene where Carrie (having been dumped at the altar) is reading a fairy tale with a "happily ever after" ending to a friend's daughter and she ends up telling the girl, "You know things don't end up that way, right?" For those of you who haven't seen the movie, I'm not spoiling anything that hasn't been in the previews. And everyone should pretty much expect Carrie and Mr. Big to have problems (since that was the driving force of the seven seasons of the show). I thought that scene was pretty funny in light of my comments earlier in the morning.
Henry had a good day with Grandma and Grandpa. Grandma gave him a bath because he'd made a huge mess with a teething biscuit.
Henry woke up with a big smile on his face this morning. He's usually pretty cheerful when he first wakes up, until he (a) realizes he is hungry, OR (b) gets his diaper changed.
I dropped him off at my parents' house before heading to school. I was holding him and asked him to give me a hug before I gave him to Grammy. And he gave me a wonderfully big squeeze. He is such a love.
My day was dreadful. My students always come up 30 seconds before lecture to ask personal questions. Then, they get huffy when I tell them that they'll have to wait until after lecture (as the other 104 people in the class are waiting for it to begin). My TA gave a guest lecture at the beginning of class. His presentation was on the primary/caucus process. Several students didn't understand the difference between candidates and delegates. Several obviously had no clue about the Florida/Michigan controversy. I do wonder how it is possible to live under rocks for an entire primary/caucus season. Even if you only read/heard one Clinton/Obama story a week, surely the topic would have arisen a good part of the time. After class, I had a long line of students waiting for me. Then, I had to grade. Long story short, I wasn't able to pump for over 11 hours, which is terribly hard on my body and awful for the milk supply. Got to my parents' house to get the car seat to Jeff (I had accidentally left it in my car, which meant that Jeff was stuck at my parents' until I arrived), and the power cord was missing for the pump. Tried to use the battery generator, but it wouldn't work. Had to rush home to "Suckie" (our pet name for the hospital grade pump that I'm still renting from UMC). Yes, I'm still pumping my son's food. No, I don't like doing it, but it is what is best for him. When will I stop pumping? Not soon enough. Given Henry's situation, the longer that I pump, the better for him. So it is what I do. After writing this blog entry, I get to finish prepping class for tomorrow. Oh, and my laptop is on its last leg. I just placed on order with our SBS tech folks tonight, so hopefully they can place an order for a new one soon.
According to Jeff, Henry said "Mama" when he arrived at my parents. My mom told him that Henry has been saying it too. Henry refused, however, to say it when I was around. Despite him not saying it to me, I was pleased that he is making his M sounds more often. I heard him making several N sounds this evening.
We went on a walk tonight around dusk, and we ran into several of our neighbors. Henry was smiley. He played with Hal's hat. And he had fun watching our gaggle full of dogs (7 between us all) interact.
It took a long time to feed Henry tonight. He dumped most of his cup of water onto his tray. Then, he used his hands to splash it all over the floor. Luckily, Jeff has put down rubber mats (colorful, interlocking squares) in the table area. Worked well.
OK. I'd better finish my lecture for tomorrow. As Scarlet O'Hara said, "Tomorrow is another day."
No comments:
Post a Comment