Once Dash—being the generous creature that he is—gave the last of all his bread in quick fashion to the ducks, geese, and one turtle, he wanted Rosie to give him a portion of the crusts she had been hoarding. Rosie was reluctant to give up her share, but after my interjection, gave him a small crumb of the bread she was parceling out more discriminately.
During our discussion (wherein no bread was being distributed), the natives became restless. We skedaddled right after the Canadian geese got malevolent, left the water and CAME AFTER US! Greedy (and kinda scary) geese.
I had a phone conference with Dash's preschool teacher, Miss Kara. She's a very caring young woman who takes her job seriously and I appreciate that she is one of Dash's primary caregivers at daycare. Since it was a phone meeting, I was able to take some pretty good notes, while not having to make eye contact and appear engaged. Here's the report:
Dash transitions very well in the morning, adapts well to changes in schedules or routine, and is easily redirected when an activity he likes is unavailable. He maintains very positive relationships with teachers and friends [I've noticed that when Dash enters the room, many of the kids yell, "YAY! Dash is here!!"]. His very favorite "center" in his room is the sensory table, and if allowed, he would be happy there all day, playing with sand or water toys, but of course they limit him to 30 minutes or less.
He does need to work on dealing with conflicts. When he is upset, he either walks away or sometimes lashes out, and the teachers would prefer that he talks through the issue with his friends instead. He is not interested in letters or singing (at all!), but can count to 20 and loves number games. He doesn't always participate in group art activities that are fine motor, but recently the staff discovered that he prefers "messy art" with large surfaces, paint, fingerpaints, or playdoh. [He has told me that he doesn't draw, he just makes "scribble-scrabbles" whatever that means.]
He loves being read to or listening to recorded books. His favorite dramatic play area choices are the "grocery store" or the "beach." When outdoors for playground time, he spends most of his time running and chasing friends, running, and running some more. If he's not running, he's in the sandbox or climbing the rope. He enjoys the Stretch and Grow program that enhances the daycare curriculum.
He loves to tell stories and talk about the characters in books and the movies he's seen. He can retain an amazing amount of detail! That's the report—looking good! I'd like him to be more interested in letters and fine motor artwork, but I'm sure it'll come, no worries.
And the I.O.U? I still need to post photos from Dash's birthday party and the video from the recital. I'm so very lax on this, as they all happened in late June—I hope you don't mind waiting!
At this moment, beneath both pantyhose and a single, full-leg compression stocking (wearing both for symmetry), is my left leg. Sounds too sexy, right? Rwwowr! While it's thoroughly bruised and has some abrasions, it's healing well, no worries. About a week and a half ago, I had ambulatory phlebectomy, or, removal of a superficial vericose vein.
So, some questions I've had have been, why on earth did you have this surgery in the middle of summer? 90-degree weather in DC humidity is bad enough, but with a thick stocking on? Or, why did I have the surgery at all? Is it just cosmetic, or do vericose veins cause problems beyond looking weird?
To answer the first, I've become thoroughly in love with my dance classes. Between September and June, the practice is solidly once a week, but from early July to late August? There's only four classes, which I didn't sign up for—I signed Dash up instead. I had surgery in July so I wouldn't miss too much dancing practice.
Second, I've had the ugly vein since my mid-twenties. The vericose malfunction is when the valves in a vein stop opening and closing properly, and instead of pumping blood back up toward your heart, the blood just lollygags around, filling up the vein and making it all puffy. While it's been a pest for me over the years (for example, I couldn't zip up those sexy leather knee-boots on the left leg), and got worse over my pregnancies (all the way up and down the leg, rather than localizing in one area), it didn't really start hurting me until this year. Over the past few months, I just wanted to be propping my foot up all the time, while at my desk, while driving, and couldn't sit still at work because every seated position became uncomfortable after a short while.
Every surgery has risks, and I'm no fan of getting cut up for frivolous reasons. I'm a wuss, too! I actually fainted while the doctor and nurses were just PREPPING me for the surgery! No cutting yet, just my imagination running away with my brain. Boom, lights out.
Things are feeling better today, and I'm looking forward to being more comfortable through my 8-5 grind. Maybe I'll even be able to wear those boots this coming winter! For now, I'm wearing the stockings for another week or two, and adding fishnets to make them more hawt while I'm out? Maybe!
Rosie survived her first two days at camp! And she actually had fun, believe it or not. We signed her up for a week of Soccer & Swim camp at a local Rec-Center, where we sent her due to its proximity to her Grandma's house, not because she had any friends going there or it was recommended for its excellence. She told us that she did make friends at camp, but couldn't remember their names. That's okay, as long as she's enjoying the activities.
Monkeyrotica and I had quite a time gathering all the gear she needed on Sunday night. We dug our own hole, as it was a lazy, balmy evening and we kept the kids up after bedtime. The sun went down and we had a grand time chasing, catching and releasing fireflies. Rosie was creating a community of them in her critter case, while Dash would hold one in his hands for a minute, then cajole them to fly away saying, "Go home to your family! They're looking for you!"
By the time we had them bathed and all the gear assembled (and LABELED), it was well past 10 p.m. Between soccer and swim gear, there were eleven items on the checklist to fit inside Rosie's backpack. Of course, when we started, I didn't even have a list ready and all the stuff was in various places around the house. Monkey had packed her lunch, got the water bottles ready and set two snacks aside; I located her soccer cleats (which we found out later, weren't needed. Craigslist?), her shinguards, soccer ball, baseball hat, sunscreen, swimsuit, goggles, flipflops, and towel. Then every last little thing needed to have her name on it, since I can only assume the undressing and changing into swim gear from soccer gear would be a riot zone. Rub-a-Dub marker to the rescue! Somehow, through my mastery of spatial relationships and packing prowess, all of the above fit in her school backpack.
I'm a little in the dark on what and how exactly they're teaching the soccer/swim skills in the camp. Maybe some well-structured questioning will get more information out of my girl. For now, it matters that she's not begging to stay home with Grandma!