Now "they" think Grace might have ADD. Definitely not ADHD, there's no "H" anywhere to be found...except when she drinks espresso. I'll just "ADD" it to the list of other medical terms that have been thrown our way since she was born. Here's the list:
1. Hip dysplasia
2. Cerebral Palsy
3. High Functioning Autism
4. PDDNOS (Pervasive Developmental Disorder, Not Otherwise Specified)
5. Sensory Integration Dysfunction
6. Food Allergies
7. Language Processing Disorder
8. ADD
This morning at school, Ms. Diane asked me if I had any extra shoes in my car. I thought, "Great, what is Grace doing/what have I not done now?" Turns out, though, that a little boy in her class made it to school without any shoes on. My procrastination paid off, for this little guy, anyway, as I had a whole box of shoes that Grace and Johnny have outgrown that I've been meaning to drop off at PTA. I went out the car, brought the whole box in, and rooted around with the teacher and kids until we found a pair that fit. Everyone got a kick out of "Sarah, do you have any extra shoes in your car," to "Well, as a matter of fact, I do..."
What I can't figure out is, how does a preschooler make it to school on a morning with temps in the 30's WITHOUT ANY SHOES ON???!!!
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Monday, October 23, 2006
Rock-N-Roll and Fiesta de Bebe
Before it gets gobbled up by Halloween, let me tell you about what I did this past weekend.
On Friday, my brother Daniel drove up from Boone, and we attended our friend Matt's live show at the MarVell Event Center as part of Troika Music Festival. Matt's band Vedere Rosso played from 7:45-8:15 PM, and what they lacked in sound-system quality, they made up for in stage presence and catchy lyrics. And intensity. Matt's parents were there, and his mom commented on how intense Matt was playing the drums. Watching Matt bang his drums, I couldn't help but remember the one and only song I ever banged a full-on drum set to and that is "You Make(a) My Dreams Come True" by Hall and Oates, circa 1982. My dad's a drummer, and when I was 10, he taught me how to play drums to that song. Seriously. Bass drum with my right foot, tom tom with my left hand, high hat with my right hand. Maybe a cymbal here and there. Vedere Rosso is always fun to watch, as is most live music with three chicks and a guy on drums.
After VR, we stayed for a set by a band called The Heist & The Accomplice, from Columbia, SC.
The sound system just didn't work so I can't really say whether they were good or not. I can say they were good and loud.
A trip to the Arby's drive through and a bag of curly fries later, Matt, Shawna, Dan'l and I went to a venue called 305 South to catch a headlining band, The Mountain Goats. The Mountain Goats were a little too "emo" for what we were all in the mood for, but I have to say, 305 was kind of a neat venue. It's like half indoors, half outdoors, with a warehouse feel to it, but I tell ya, people were out in droves to see this band. There were hundreds of hipsters, and it was like, "Who are all of you people and where did you come from?" I just don't get out much anymore, and it just didn't feel like we were in Durham.
I told my party that I typically turn into a pumpkin at midnight, so I left at 11:20 PM to make it back home to Chapel Hill before the stroke of midnight. (I'm practicing to be Cinderella again this year for Halloween. Ladies: you can wear periwinkle-blue bridesmaids dresses again, you can!)
So, then Saturday evening, I found myself at a Baby Shower for Marcela, Johnny's former teacher at SFFA. All I was told in advance was, "This isn't going to be your typical American babyshower." It wasn't. There were lots of women ooh-ing and ahh-ing at each present that was opened (ok, that part was the same), but there were also lots of kids, lots of men, and lots of beer around. There wasn't lots of English spoken, however. In fact, I was one of four adults in a group of about 30 who was not a native Spanish speaker. I held my own pretty well during all of the festive games, and almost lost track of the fact that I hadn't laid eyes on my children in over 45 minutes straight. When I made it back to the "kid" room and asked, "Donde esta Johnny y Gracita?" I was answered with, "We speak English, too." Ok. "Where is Johnny and Grace?" The dark-haired boy replied, "No se." Well, I tried. When in Rome, you know.
I was honored to be included in what was clearly a close-friends-and-family affair, and I am all the more confident that the Cooley family's collective Spanish-speaking skills will serve us well if and when David and I take the kids to a Spanish-speaking country for an extended stay in the next few years.
On Friday, my brother Daniel drove up from Boone, and we attended our friend Matt's live show at the MarVell Event Center as part of Troika Music Festival. Matt's band Vedere Rosso played from 7:45-8:15 PM, and what they lacked in sound-system quality, they made up for in stage presence and catchy lyrics. And intensity. Matt's parents were there, and his mom commented on how intense Matt was playing the drums. Watching Matt bang his drums, I couldn't help but remember the one and only song I ever banged a full-on drum set to and that is "You Make(a) My Dreams Come True" by Hall and Oates, circa 1982. My dad's a drummer, and when I was 10, he taught me how to play drums to that song. Seriously. Bass drum with my right foot, tom tom with my left hand, high hat with my right hand. Maybe a cymbal here and there. Vedere Rosso is always fun to watch, as is most live music with three chicks and a guy on drums.
After VR, we stayed for a set by a band called The Heist & The Accomplice, from Columbia, SC.
The sound system just didn't work so I can't really say whether they were good or not. I can say they were good and loud.
A trip to the Arby's drive through and a bag of curly fries later, Matt, Shawna, Dan'l and I went to a venue called 305 South to catch a headlining band, The Mountain Goats. The Mountain Goats were a little too "emo" for what we were all in the mood for, but I have to say, 305 was kind of a neat venue. It's like half indoors, half outdoors, with a warehouse feel to it, but I tell ya, people were out in droves to see this band. There were hundreds of hipsters, and it was like, "Who are all of you people and where did you come from?" I just don't get out much anymore, and it just didn't feel like we were in Durham.
I told my party that I typically turn into a pumpkin at midnight, so I left at 11:20 PM to make it back home to Chapel Hill before the stroke of midnight. (I'm practicing to be Cinderella again this year for Halloween. Ladies: you can wear periwinkle-blue bridesmaids dresses again, you can!)
So, then Saturday evening, I found myself at a Baby Shower for Marcela, Johnny's former teacher at SFFA. All I was told in advance was, "This isn't going to be your typical American babyshower." It wasn't. There were lots of women ooh-ing and ahh-ing at each present that was opened (ok, that part was the same), but there were also lots of kids, lots of men, and lots of beer around. There wasn't lots of English spoken, however. In fact, I was one of four adults in a group of about 30 who was not a native Spanish speaker. I held my own pretty well during all of the festive games, and almost lost track of the fact that I hadn't laid eyes on my children in over 45 minutes straight. When I made it back to the "kid" room and asked, "Donde esta Johnny y Gracita?" I was answered with, "We speak English, too." Ok. "Where is Johnny and Grace?" The dark-haired boy replied, "No se." Well, I tried. When in Rome, you know.
I was honored to be included in what was clearly a close-friends-and-family affair, and I am all the more confident that the Cooley family's collective Spanish-speaking skills will serve us well if and when David and I take the kids to a Spanish-speaking country for an extended stay in the next few years.
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Today's Stats
Sarah:
Minutes Run: 109
Miles Run: 10
Calories Burned: 1470
Johnny:
Food and/or Drink Spills: 4
Towels used to clean up Drink Spills: 6
Grace:
Times toys and/or game pieces were thrown in a fit of frustration: 3
David:
Times Grace's GFCF Diet was violated: 5
Minutes Run: 109
Miles Run: 10
Calories Burned: 1470
Johnny:
Food and/or Drink Spills: 4
Towels used to clean up Drink Spills: 6
Grace:
Times toys and/or game pieces were thrown in a fit of frustration: 3
David:
Times Grace's GFCF Diet was violated: 5
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Pigs, Cheese, and Dogs in Drag
Pigs:
#1. Yesterday I was delivering Lucy's Card packets to the fine participating merchants in Chapel Hill. In the middle of one of my spiels, a distracted store owner said, "Hold on for just a minute, there's a pig running around here somewhere." Can you guess which store I was in?
a.) A Southern Season
b.) Aria Skin & Laser Spa
c.) Great Outdoor Provision Co.
d.) Ferdinand's Dog & Cat Boutique
The correct answer is d.) Ferdinand's Dog & Cat Boutique. The pig was small, black, cute, and named Serena.
#2. I was talking up the NC State Fair to my kids yesterday.
Me: "When we go to the fair, do you guys want to see the racing pigs?"
Johnny: "Cars?"
Me: "No, pigs."
Johnny: "But will the pigs be racing in cars?"
We all wish.
Cheese:
This morning Johnny asked for a cheese stick, or string cheese as it is most usually identified. Johnny was oh-so-proud at the fact that he could peel the wrapper off by himself, as he is getting to be such a grown-up, big boy. Next thing I knew, he was whacking the unwrapped cheese stick against his head rather than eating it. I said in my most exasperated, morning-voice, "Johnny, don't whack the cheese stick against your head." He replied in his most assuring, but totally-missed-the-point voice, "It don't hurt, Mommy."
Dogs in Drag:
No words necessary.
#1. Yesterday I was delivering Lucy's Card packets to the fine participating merchants in Chapel Hill. In the middle of one of my spiels, a distracted store owner said, "Hold on for just a minute, there's a pig running around here somewhere." Can you guess which store I was in?
a.) A Southern Season
b.) Aria Skin & Laser Spa
c.) Great Outdoor Provision Co.
d.) Ferdinand's Dog & Cat Boutique
The correct answer is d.) Ferdinand's Dog & Cat Boutique. The pig was small, black, cute, and named Serena.
#2. I was talking up the NC State Fair to my kids yesterday.
Me: "When we go to the fair, do you guys want to see the racing pigs?"
Johnny: "Cars?"
Me: "No, pigs."
Johnny: "But will the pigs be racing in cars?"
We all wish.
Cheese:
This morning Johnny asked for a cheese stick, or string cheese as it is most usually identified. Johnny was oh-so-proud at the fact that he could peel the wrapper off by himself, as he is getting to be such a grown-up, big boy. Next thing I knew, he was whacking the unwrapped cheese stick against his head rather than eating it. I said in my most exasperated, morning-voice, "Johnny, don't whack the cheese stick against your head." He replied in his most assuring, but totally-missed-the-point voice, "It don't hurt, Mommy."
Dogs in Drag:
No words necessary.
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
It's a Small World (Wide Web): Will the real SCooley please stand up?
Back in 2001 when I was pregnant with Grace, I got a lot of e-mails from friends wishing me well and stuff--especially throughout that long, hot summer as I approached Grace's August due date. Back then, my personal e-mail was cooleysl@yahoo.com. If you think that it's the number "1" between the s and the @, you're wrong. It's an "l" as in Louise or Lightfoot.
Our friend Rick, aka Ricksta, aka Rickstar, bless his heart, was trying to be a good brotha and sent me lots of e-mails asking me how the pregnancy was going with little messages like, "Not long now," and "Bet your belly is getting really big," and "How does David feel about becoming a daddy?" Then the next group e-mail from Ricksta went something like this: "Hey everybody--Sarah Cooley's e-mail address is cooleysL@yahoo.com NOT cooleys1@yahoo.com. I thought you should all know, because I've been sending messages to a 'Steve Cooley' and he's not too happy. He wrote me back to tell me he wasn't Sarah Cooley, he wasn't pregnant, and he's not married to a guy named David. Just wanted to make sure everyone else had her e-mail straight." Everyone else did.
I, too, got a couple of curt emails from Steve Cooley himself, informing me that my friends were e-mailing him by mistake and would I be so kind as to notify everyone in my address book the distinctions in our e-mail addresses. I thought seriously about abandoning that account, but in the end decided, nah.
Fast forward a couple of years to 2004 or so when the tables turned and I started getting messages that were intended for Steve. First it was an itinerary for his trip to Japan and instructions on who would pick him up at the airport. Then it was from his cousin saying she'd enjoyed the visit, and another from someone who said they'd like to see the photos from his trip. It was my turn to be curt, but I had fun with it. I forwarded each misdirected e-mail with a pleasant header such as "Remember me? People are still getting our addresses mixed up. By the way, I'd like to see your pictures from Japan sometime too."
I think he was surprised to hear from me again, but he did e-mail back acknowledging the long-term imbroglio in which we were both entangled. A couple of e-mails later, we finally found ourselves on common ground, I mean cyberspace, for the first time in our five-year relationship.
I wonder what's of Steve Cooley now...whether he's back in Japan, whether he ever got pregnant, and whether he ever ended up with a good man named David. After all, if Grace had been a boy, we'd decided to call her Steve.
Our friend Rick, aka Ricksta, aka Rickstar, bless his heart, was trying to be a good brotha and sent me lots of e-mails asking me how the pregnancy was going with little messages like, "Not long now," and "Bet your belly is getting really big," and "How does David feel about becoming a daddy?" Then the next group e-mail from Ricksta went something like this: "Hey everybody--Sarah Cooley's e-mail address is cooleysL@yahoo.com NOT cooleys1@yahoo.com. I thought you should all know, because I've been sending messages to a 'Steve Cooley' and he's not too happy. He wrote me back to tell me he wasn't Sarah Cooley, he wasn't pregnant, and he's not married to a guy named David. Just wanted to make sure everyone else had her e-mail straight." Everyone else did.
I, too, got a couple of curt emails from Steve Cooley himself, informing me that my friends were e-mailing him by mistake and would I be so kind as to notify everyone in my address book the distinctions in our e-mail addresses. I thought seriously about abandoning that account, but in the end decided, nah.
Fast forward a couple of years to 2004 or so when the tables turned and I started getting messages that were intended for Steve. First it was an itinerary for his trip to Japan and instructions on who would pick him up at the airport. Then it was from his cousin saying she'd enjoyed the visit, and another from someone who said they'd like to see the photos from his trip. It was my turn to be curt, but I had fun with it. I forwarded each misdirected e-mail with a pleasant header such as "Remember me? People are still getting our addresses mixed up. By the way, I'd like to see your pictures from Japan sometime too."
I think he was surprised to hear from me again, but he did e-mail back acknowledging the long-term imbroglio in which we were both entangled. A couple of e-mails later, we finally found ourselves on common ground, I mean cyberspace, for the first time in our five-year relationship.
I wonder what's of Steve Cooley now...whether he's back in Japan, whether he ever got pregnant, and whether he ever ended up with a good man named David. After all, if Grace had been a boy, we'd decided to call her Steve.
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