Semiotics for preschoolers

Sitting in the sun on the deck.  The plum trees are blossoming.  Wren is assembling another deck from the out of legal magic the gathering cards.  The sky is all blue and the lawn is suddenly lush and overgrown. In the distance we can hear the drone of cars and lawnmowers.

Wren:  Mum, why do all those thing have different names?  Like CROW and TREE and PLATFORM and HOUSES and FORTS and SWINGS and that is all?

Me:  Why do you think?

Wren:  I think it is because things are look different so if a tree looked like a fort it would be a treeHOUSE.

Me: I think it is so we can tell people about things when we are not right next to them. Like, I can say "dragon" and you can think of it in your head even when you can't see one.

Wren:  But why different letters?  Like B-W-R-E?  I can't understand!

Me: That is so people can read the letters and know the name of something.

Wren:  Oh, so what does B-O spell?

Me: That spells "bow"

Wren:  I spelled "bow!"

Alex: Well, that is actually b-o-w! 

Me:  In linguistics they call the word the signifier and the thing it means is called the signified.  The signifier can change in different languages.  So, in Indonesian that thing is called a pohon?

Wren:  pohon pohon

Alex:  pohon pohon

Frost stands in the sun in silence, bending over an ipad and a calculator as he researches and adds the costs of all the proxy cards in Alex's new Take That magic the gathering deck.

"It is going to cost $22," he says, looking up.  Its cheap for a good deck!

Wren:  Argh... nobody is going to the car to get my Hedron Crab.  Why... AAAARRRRGHHHH!!!!!

Me:  Alex, are you going to get it?

Alex:  Maybe, when I am done lying in the sun.

Me:  Frost, will you?

Frost: Nyah.

Wren:  WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Me:  I will get you candy if you go and get it.

Frost:  I am going to get it!

Alex:  No, I am coming....

They all run off.  I am left in peace but now must rise and get candy.  Thank god for the Easter Stash.  At our BBQ this week people were discussing what kind of multi-millionaire was crazy and what simply the natural amplification of eccentricity by wealth.  I would be a lazy billionaire.  Imagine what I could get people to do for me if I gave out golden easter eggs for acts of service.

Sitting here, with the sun so hot the rivets in my jeans are burning my hip, being crazy in the name of indolence doesn't sound so bad.

Dragon in my soup, spring fires still hearthing

I'm having a rare lunch at Vios.  The familiar thump of the barrista clearing the used coffee grounds, the chink of plates and cuttlery, the ladies knitting around the big table and the usual spread of laptops on heavy wooden tables against the backdrop of cheerful fusion music is something I miss now that I work from home and seldom have the excuse to retreat here.

I'm having my favorites:  Kopanisti dip (sorely missed during my 2 months as a vegan) and the soup of the day (tomato fennel) with bruschetta.  It would be perfect if I had another hour here, but as it happens I am between 'running to the grocery store' and 'fetching Frost from Magic the Gathering' before 'checking owner claims' for my work.

Puff, puff.  I blow on my soup and the olive oil twines like a small dragon on the surface.  I am sure someone could read my future in the parsley leaves.

Anyway, enough about the present and the future.  Surely, you want the past?   Kids are on spring break this week so have been home more.  Frost has been having many playdates and sleepovers while Wren draws, plays iPad, comes on errands with me and does lots of gardening and playing with wooden weapons in the yard.

There is still no progress on the house front - we have been looking but the houses that would be just right are priced just-wrong (by a $100K+) while the ones we see are either too small, remote, soul-less or oddly wrong.

Last week, I took the boys to the Seattle Central Library - an architectural feature of downtown.  They were stunned and impressed and excited - reminding me that they haven't really been to many famous or splendid buildings.  As a child I'd visited cathedrals, museums, castles - big old things with cavernous interiors - while neither of them can remember being exposed to structures designed to impress.  I vow now to take them to places that excite (incite?) the imagination to rebel against the stubbornly utilitarian.  

Seattle Central Library - designed by Rem Koolhaus

Frost examines a display cabinet of skulls at Seattle Central Library

"They are REAL SKULLS" says Wren, factually incorrect.

Other than that - we have been on the usual routine of soccer, food and entertainment.  I had a few deviations last weekend - I ran a 6 mile 'fun' race at Bellevue in 54 minutes (my fastest time since injury).  I think I did a minor calf pull as a result (apparently I have to balance distance and intensity better because I don't feel tired but my muscles give out) but enjoyed it mightily.

I had a run-in of another kind at a designer lingerie boutique.  If I was a courtesan I would shop at Zovo all the time.  They tempt you into a boudoir curtained in taffeta and bring you piles of lacy things in your size 'to try'.  I should have left my pocketbook behind but .... well, I didn't.  I think I have said enough and now have a love-hate relationship with Simone Perele.  Next time I think I will go with Trina who tells me she has low inhibitions, good taste and high standards in the lacy-bits department. 

What else?  Blegh.  Time to fetch Frost so no news about the growth of the herbs on the deck, the sudden sunshine or the plan to make s'mores tonight.  No time to draw a tableau of our fireplace, still in use in late spring or of the anticipation of easter.   Adieu till then...

Hanging outside Essential Baking

On afternoons when I fetch Wren early, we sometimes swing by the Essential Baking Company for a coookie.   Yesterday, Wren enjoyed climbing on the wall like a mountain climber.

I told him I would take a picture "for granny".  Granny has been giving me a hard time about being a fitful blogger.  Anyway, he was happy until he slipped.  Then he cursed and said he hated me - possibly because I was responsible for the situation?   Wren has very big and sensitive feelings.

Wren is so sweet...

Until he isn't.

We have bought a dog

We haven't found a house but god dammit, we have a dog.  Actually, we don't have a dog either YET but we have put a deposit on a puppy who is a month old.  This is what we know:

He is a boy.

He is a miniature long-haired daschund dachshund  (you have to be able to spell it before you can buy one). 

He is tan/brown and is the single-only-puppy in his litter.

He lives in Eugene Oregon but we will pick him up near Longview, WA.

Here is his latest puppy pick:

Josh suggests naming him after a Magic the Gathering creature.  I think he looks too fluffy.

Disequilibrium, vast beasts and the property market.

In early childhood, transitions between stages of development are often characterized as 'disequilibrium'.  The theory goes that children are pleasant and biddable when they have mastered a developmental stage but as they start to topple into the next stage they become wild, mean and full of huge lashing emotions  (I envision these as the wild snakes of the Medusa presenting as a corona around the child's head).

So, I think I am in disequilibrium.

Frost Masters Magic
Frost isn't.  He is in the developmental stage called Obsession with Magic the Gathering.  He plays the card game at every opportunity.  Alex is playing it too.  Josh is playing it too.  Wren is playing it.  I was playing it but as they all perfected and advanced the strategy and deck construction my interest degraded into infantile stabs with pretty cards and big creatures.


Wren has a greater lexicon of Magic than do I.


Wren is farming zombies

Wren is pretty stable in his desire to play Zombie Farm on the iPad.  He also likes to run around in the garden as spring comes, wrestle big boys and draw.  He has a nasty habit of nagging and whining but I feel it is really my fault because I am now working and doing things other than playing "pigs in the maze" or "Pigs in the Zombie Forest" all day as we were used to in the past.

"YOU BE A CROCODILE AND TRY TO  BITE MY FEET!"

Look at the big pouting lip when I disappoint

Wren is growing increasingly tall and skinny

Wren climbs across a bridge over a river of crocodiles ( near Ravenna)

I am a Zombie

Okay, so raise your hand if you are a mother and have wondered whether you are getting early onset dementia or Alzheimer's?   I'm not joking!  I just can't seem to remember recent things with any clarity.

This evening, I caught Joshua saying things slowly and telling me dumb and self-evident things.  I accused him of treating me like the Aged-Infirm (the age difference between us makes this a valid concern) but he said he was just pulling my leg because I told him to click the completed sales button to see completed sales on Ebay.   Apparently, implying he is stupid leads him to imply I am stupid in retaliation but hit a nerve.

I started to think that maybe the reason I find life overly full is because I am dementia'ed and that my quality of attention is altered.   This is a change from my usual explanation - life is distracting and demanding and I am never left alone.


So, I was pondering this chicken-egg problem of my failure to remember the date, what movie we saw two weeks ago or the name of a book I just returned to the library when I hit on another explanation.  I think that I am the one in disequilibrium myself and have yet to figure out the balance between work and other jobs.  I am very much enjoying my new role as  a Work-at-Home Mom and a half-marathoner and an artist but there is that pesky stay-at-home Mom element I have going as well. You see the problem?

Disequilibrium as nobody gets enough of me.

Various other things
A few weeks ago we decided we would try and move house to accommodate the greater space needs of our bigger boys.  So far, the search hasn't turned up what we want but we have narrowed down the options and know more about what we like.  We have also come to appreciate our home a great deal, to enjoy the french doors, to improve on the already lovely yard and I have strung a rope swing, dug a firepit and variously tweaked things to make them more of what we like.

Tax Return Time
It is tax return time in the US.  April 18th is the date that all bills must be paid and tax returns submitted.  For the first time in 5 years, we used an accountant this year and were horrified to receive a bill of $1,700 - not from the Inland Revenue Service but from the Accountant!    The tax return is in but we shall be doing our own tax again next year I fear.

And a dog, too

Whether or not we move shortly, Plan get-a-dog has been accelerated.  We had planned to buy a dog in fall, after summer vacation and trips. Now, we have decided to get a dog in June. The current front-runner is a miniature shorthaired dachshund, like this:

Running
I am back to running and hoping to make a half-marathon in May.  I was off 6 weeks with injuries but various physio exercises have improved my core stability and I have run 8, 9 and 8 miles on the past three weekends.  Next week I will try 9.5 miles.  

I shall try and write a few shorter posts this week.  Sorry for the absence.  More soon..

Cranes are here somewhere, probably, maybe not.

On Thursday, we went on a short field-trip from Seattle to Othello, in Eastern Washington State.  Othello is a small farming town which gains some publicity each spring during the Sandhill Crane migration.   According to the local paper, thousands of Sandhill Cranes were wandering the fields outside town and could be seen by the casual visitor who arrived before noon.  By noon, we read, they retreat back to the marshlands in the Columbia National Wildlife Refuge.

Eastern Washington is flat and blocked with green fields
straddled by the wide metal arcs of sprinklers.

The Crew in the Back
(Tara, Alex, Frost, Wren, Phoebe)

Othello is almost 190 miles from Seattle so we left on Thursday afternoon and spent the night at Moses Lake, leaving at 8am after an early breakfast.   It was still cool when we arrived at the Columbia National Wildlife Refuge Rangers Station in Othello.  The streets in Othello are about 8 cars wide and rutted with gravel.  We pulled in and were surprised to find the office open by 8am.   The Rangers were very helpful, giving us a map of likely viewing sites for cranes and burrowing owls and the boys enjoyed seeing the alarming stuffed crane and bald eagle posed in the reception area.


Unfortunately, this was the only Sandhill crane I have ever seen.

The only Sandhill crane we saw was not in the corn fields.

The bald eagle appears to have been struck by budget cuts.

Unfortunately, the Sandhill Cranes had not been informed of their expected locations and were not in the fields.  The ranger said we should probably have been here at dawn when the cranes would have been hungry and visiting corn fields to forage.  We would have come at dawn if we had known but we didn't.  The Rangers said that we had a good chance of seeing them roosting at the wetlands where they returned after feeding. 

We hunted valiantly, following the map along various unmarked roads in the Refuge but did not find the cranes.

However, we had more luck with the burrowing owls.  I don't have a telephoto lens or aspirations to bird photography so here is someone else's burrowing owl.  They are small owls that make underground burrows.  During mating season they stand up near the nest and can be seen on their long little legs. 

Burrowing Owl - feeling anxious at
the proximity of the minivan.

After some lostness we managed to track down a burrowing owl nest.  I won't get into details other than saying that by following the rangers map we inadvertantly overshot the intended viewing site and saw the owl very closely.   We then withdrew, and used the telescope and saw a second owl slightly further away.    It was a wonderful siting of a wonderful bird. 

The boys stalk closer to the burrowing owl
who promptly vanished into his burrow.

The burrow

Fred, Alex and Tara look from a discrete distance

The landscape out there is spacious and you can travel great distances without seeing a car.  Tumbleweeds reel across the road when the wind blows and great drifts of them pile up downwide on steep hillsides and cliffs.   Frost wanted to bring a huge tumbleweed home but we could find no place for it in the van and no way to travel with it on the roof.

Frost, Alex and Tara gather tumbleweeds.

The tumbleweed Frost wanted to bring home.

Me, with the photogenic tumbleweed.

Tara and Fred

Phoebe avoiding any contact with the tumbleweeds.

The Tumbleweed and Tara and Fred, Again. 
Its starting to look pretty malevolent to me by this point.

Frost persevering with this plan to bring the tumbleweed home

Among our other memorable moments was Tara's siting of a farmyard filled with roaming peacocks and peahens.  I have never seen peacocks with such large tails.  Frost stalked into the farmyard to take this picture and another of a peacock leaping from a roof down to the grass.  We thought he might be shot for trespassing because it was that kind of place.  Fortunately, he survived.

The peacock farm

When we arrived home I was distraught to realize we had left SOFT SHIRT in the motel in Moses Lake.  Housekeeping had not found it and I despaired of ever seeing it again.  It turned out that soft had not been left behind - but had been left in the car overnight.

I called Joshua and told him I had "lost soft" and was very upset.

He said "WHAT?"

I repeated "we have LOST SOFT"

"Oh," he said.  "I thought you said you had lost FROST.  I don't care about that stupid shirt."

I was indignant and feel I am now Soft's protector although his comment was probably best understood in the context that he doesn't care about the stupid shirt as much as he cares about his unstupid son.

Tired.  TV.  Tea.

That Cheapskate Tooth Fairy who is not real anyway.

Wren says he has had an awful day that wasn't too bad.  It was awful because he spat out a bit of tooth at breakfast, kicked his foot twice, fell on his bottom twice (coming down the slide too fast) and had to go to the dentist to evaluate the tooth situation.

It was also dreadful because of the stupid tooth fairy.

When Wren's tooth fragment fell out, he was elated.  "YAY!  This means I will get money from the tooth fairy!" he said.

"I am not sure the tooth fairy pays for parts of teeth"  I commented.

Fool.

"But my tooth fell out!" said Wren, adamantly.

"Oh, I guess so, but it shouldn't really do that when you are not at school yet.  Its a bit soon.  I think a bit broke."

Wren: "BROKE?"

Me:  "Just a tiny bit."

The piece looked like half a grain of calrose rice.  The dentist later told us that it wasn't really even tooth but rather a piece of filling which resembled tooth.  It had, apparently, been loosened by Wren's infamous tooth-grinding.  Even if the tooth fairy paid for parts of teeth, she certainly wouldn't pay for parts of non-tooth particulate.

"BROKE!"  Wren was not upset, but indignant.

I nod.  

"The Tooth Fairy does not exist!"  he announced as his first assault.  "YOU are the Tooth Fairy.  I want 3 dollars!"

"Me?"  I said.  "Well, I am sometimes a Tooth Fairy but some people think there is a Real Tooth Fairy.  Tara does!"

Wren:  "Well, I think there is NO TOOTH FAIRY."

Me:  "Okay"

Wren:  "But I do think she brings me THREE DOLLARS."

Me:  "If you go to the dentist because part of your tooth falls out, I will give you two dollars."

Wren:  "Three dollars."  [yelled]

Me:  [Raised voice]  "I am offering you two dollars for teeth.  The tooth Fairy in our family does not give three dollars.  What do you even want three dollars for anyway?"

Wren:  I will NEVER EVER LET MY STUPID TEETH FALL OUT UNLESS THE TOOTH FAIRY GIVES ME THREE DOLLARS."

ME:  THEN YOU WILL LOOK LIKE A SHARK WITH YOUR MOUTH FULL OF TEETH!


[SILENCE]

Me:  What do you want money for anyway?

Wren:  I like to go to the toy store and go shopping.

Me:  Well, we can do that sometime.

Wren:  I will sell away my toys and go shopping.

Yeah!

----------------

It was also a good day because we went to the playground, ate a donut, picked up Wren's Paint the Town Dragon, played pigs, didn't need a shot at the first dentist visit and made a fire in the garden.
-----------------

Anyway, for those of you not updated via Facebook, Wren's chest pain was diagnosed as "chest wall" pain, and his knee pain as restless leg syndrome (he commonly has sore knees at night).

I was very relieved to hear that the doctor did not think it was heart related and told him to sit up straighter and slowly breath more deeply until it passed.

Thanks for the concern everyone.

Wren goes to the dentist tomorrow (with antibiotic prophylaxis) to have his filling replaced.

Cheese pain

Cheese Pain is going to be my shorthand for Chest Pain.  Chest pain is too scary. 

So, this morning at Breakfast Wren complained of cheese pain.  He said "Ow, ow, my che** hurts.  I think it is the metal in my chest from surgery!"

Wren only learned or rather, re-learned about the metal in his chest recently.  I thought he might be suffering psychological pain so I asked where it hurt.  

He pointed to a spot between his nipple and sternum and said it was very sore.  Now and Now.

I called the heart center nurses line and thank-the-gods, they answered.  I had this horrible thought that he was going to have a heart attack and I couldn't remember all the steps or the idea rate.

For the record, his pulse is 88 and so that is the goal!

Anyway, spoke to the cardiology nurse and she looked him up and said I should "look at the big picture".  Since he has energy, is not ill and has normal behavior of late, we are not leaping to dark conclusions about the cheese.

She said I should call the Ped if it persists in case its referred pain, a respiratory infection or something gaseous in nature.

I called the Ped in case.  We shall see the doc at 2.45pm unless he is fine by then.

Wren has since added that it hurts when he breathes, a tinsy bit.

We are not panicking.   Now, a secret, I only really gave up dairy completely for two weeks.  I love cheese.

What your mother told ya

This is what I found when I opened the dishwasher last night.  The whole blade of the knife was sheared off.  I theorized to Josh that it was metal fatigue.  See, this is why your mother told you not to put the silver and the bone china in the dishwasher!  Not only is the gold leaf washed from the crockery, the cutlery develops a dark patina and blades from your heirloom knives can just BREAK IN TWO!

This was a knife my Gran bought at Greenacres. 

I am going back to handwashing the knives.  I am offering myself as a life lesson to girls embarking on household management.  Use borax, wash the good stuff by hand and Listen to Your Mother.

Do you want a coffee with that espresso?

I have been using my coffee crutch a bit lately.  Its not my fault (is it ever) - its the fact that I really like peace and quiet with my rain instead of rushing and driving.  Driving in rain is so much work - you can't see properly, everyone is rushing, the single lane roads are always double breasted with traffic and the transitions are complicated by mud and... blah blah [insert complaining here]

But if you're inside and have coffee its so lovely.  Its like a big sign saying "Sit back for some caffeinated contemplation."

Then in the middle of your relaxing midday-crisis when you're drawing Venn diagrams in your mind with words like "Botanical Illustration of mushrooms" in one and "World health activist" in another and "Wise Mother" in a third and you've just seen a potential overlap and then someone yells or breaks something or swears like a sailor and it goes like this:

Wren:  Play with me NOW.

Me: I am just sitting down for a moment.

Wren:  NOOOOO!!!!   Crud!

Me:  Wren!  I am just having a moment of coffee and ...

Wren:  I HATE YOU!

Me:  Well, I don't like you either.

Wren:  I AM GOING TO LIVE WITH DADDY ONLY.  I WISH YOU LIVED SOMEWHERE ELSE.

Me:  Well, I would like that right now!

And in your head you are rewriting those Venn Diagrams into "Wise Juvenile Mother" and "Solitary Artist" instead.

----*-------

Frost is reading his way through Pinkerton’s books [Thanks Mum].  He has read the Hobokin Chicken Emergency and is now enjoying the one about the Cat Whiskered Girl.   He says they are very funny and have unusual things happening in them and keeps wanting to recount detailed incidents which sound a bit Dada.

Meanwhile, as you may have gathered from the earlier dialogue, Wren is practicing being a dictator and I am not going by the Parenting Books in my reaction.  I am just done being reasonable (you can make some creepy laughter here if you think I have never been on the big R side).  

If I were writing a book on Child Development I would get rid of the myth of the terrible twos and start a new theory of the Ferocious Fours.  Four is horrible.  Wren is vocal enough to explain his preferences with exquisite precision and loud enough to make that conversation painful.  He is also cute enough to make his demanding conversations fascinating and worthy so you feel like a stink saying No to anything.

Actually, they are not conversations.  They are directives.   Four is all about telling us what he wants. 

What does Wren want?  The moment he gets up, Wren wants to PLAY with you.  Rather, you have to play with him. IF you don’t he lets out a piercing angry shriek and falls on the floor in angry sobs.   He likes to play Pigs in the [INSERT CURRENT LEVEL OR GAME HERE] and Magic the Gathering.  Many times, he wants to “Check for something on the internet” or “Make a new deck” all before breakfast.  Lately, with Daylight saving beginning and some residual time dislocation from our HAwaai trip, we are getting up by 8am for an 8.30am bus.  There is no time for games. 

What does Frost want?

Peace

Money

Internet / games

Stay up late

A bedtime snack at 9pm.

What do I want?

Heck if I know but it better come with a coffee on the side.