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Sunday, March 31, 2013

Extreme happiness v. exceedingly pleasant

It's been 3 months since my last post. My dad has complained. I have something I want to say and the inclination to say it here. So, welcome back.

When was the last time you were so happy, you shouted aloud? -- Not a direct quote, but something to that effect. I heard this today on RadioLab. The speaker was Aleksander Gamme, a "professional adventurer." One of his recent adventures was a solo trek across Antarctica. Along the way, he buried caches of food - to lighten his load & provide sustenance later when he really needed it. Like on Day 86, at which point he'd lost 55 pounds. When he finds his last cache, he doesn't even remember what's in it. When he finds Cheese Doodles, he lets out a shout of pure joy, that goes on & on, and which is revived as he finds more bags of goodies.

I can't remember when I last shouted aloud? I mean for pure happiness. Can you?

I had an exceedingly pleasant day.

Yesterday was a HUGE day. My daughter's 3rd birthday party. We went fairly low-key. Just some friends & neighbors, what little family we have locally. But I did want her to feel super special and have a blast. Mission accomplished.


Today, we kept intentionally uneventful for her.

I, on the other hand, got to have a mini-reunion with a couple friends from days of yore - my mid-20s in DC, a lifetime ago! A bit of beach lounging, followed by delicious brunch that has yet to digest. Plain lovely.

On my way home, I heard the RadioLab episode - well, half of it. I have every intention of downloading the podcast - you know, sometime.

When I got back, naptime had just ended, followed by a leftover cupcake. The overwhelming aspect of all her new loot has worn off, and she's ready to play at a somewhat less frenetic pace - you know, one at a time. We colored an Ariel mural, did a floor puzzle of the 50 Nifty United States, then hit the swing set again. Afterward, the 3 of us played a few rounds of CandyLand before dinner.
When I read the rules of CandyLand, I thought it was silly how simple it was. Yeah. Now I understand. Rules? Turns? Schmules & Splurns. CandyLand may exist exclusively to teach children the concept of a boardgame. As well as to reinforce patience in their parents.

After dinner, we had some grapes on the patio, then she went down the slide a few more times. As I was sitting watching her & enjoying a lovely breeze, it occurred to me - exceedingly pleasant.
I'll take it.
Perhaps you don't need to starve yourself and ski 10 hours daily for 86 days in frigid conditions to achieve extreme happiness.
Perhaps I should shout aloud that I have as many exceedingly pleasant days in my life as I do.

On that note - Jaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!!

Friday, January 4, 2013

A Sticky Face is a Small Price

A few weeks ago, we went through a bout of really bad drop-offs at school (daycare, that is).
Like, clinging to mommy or daddy's leg before even entering the building. Like waterworks & sincere drama when you try to go. Whichever lucky parent dropped that day might try to smooth things over, which usually made it worse.
Finally, we hit upon the oh-so-emotionally fulfilling solution -- Kiss & Run. No matter what - Kiss. And RUN.
Yes, there were tears. But they usually stopped before we even hit the main entrance.
I don't believe it was an intentional manipulation thing. Or at least, I believe it wasn't a maliciously intentional manipulation thing.

After a week or so of Kiss & Run, things have been a little easier the past 2 weeks. Who knows for sure why. We just hope it will last!

Our working theory is - letting her have breakfast at home instead of packing it to have when she gets to school.
Daddy thinks she was hungry & therefore more cranky. I think maybe it's just that little smidge of control that  little folks need. She asked to eat at the table. We let her. Presto! -- She has control of her world.

Yes, sometimes (almost always) she dilly dallies. When it's my turn, I always squeak into work in the bare nick of time.
But it's worth it.

Yesterday, she had syrup on her face when I got her to school.
Who. Cares.
She didn't. She dove into dress-up with her little friends.
The teacher didn't. She said she'd take care of it.
I didn't. A sticky face is a small price to pay for a happy kid.

... and what a face! ... and what a kid ...

That's not syrup! No. It's chocolate frosting, from "welcome back, Oma" donuts last week.
I didn't take the time to photograph sticky face yesterday. I got while the getting was good!