Have You Seen This Mascot?

Louie greets some fans.
Originally uploaded by Throwingbull

If so, don't tell Celeste. This afternoon, we caught part of the second game in a double header between the Erie SeaWolves and the Bowie Baysox. It was Quinn's first ballgame, and Celeste's first since she was about 9 months old. Originally, the game was scheduled as a single game, but last night's game was suspended on account of rain in the third which meant the 2:00 p.m. start was shifted to 12:30 p.m. and, unfortunately, the "Bark in the Park" dog parade was a lot earlier than originally scheduled.

Still, there were many dogs for Celeste to pet and Quinn had fun. They both ate a lot of popcorn and the girls almost got to see a grand slam (we were petting some greyhounds at the time and missed it).

As we were leaving (in the bottom of the sixth inning), we paused to visit with some other dogs and Celeste caught sight of Louie, the Baysox's mascot. At first I thought she was excited (not that she has any idea of who Louie is or anything) because she was making a little "Oh!" noise. But then she put her hand up in front of the mouth and I realized she was shaking. Louie was waving to kids as he walked past and into a backstage area, and as soon as the door shut, Celeste grabbed me around the neck and burst into tears. She didn't look up until we were out in the parking lot.

We talked to her a little about mascots and Louie, but Celeste wanted nothing to do with it. After dinner we took a walk around the block and ran into some of Celeste's favorite neighborhood dogs. While talking with their owner, I mentioned the ballpark and Celeste said she didn't have fun and when she was asked why, she started crying again. Later, during her bath, Evelin mentioned going to a game next summer and Celeste was quick to nix the idea.

Quinn, I think, was more disturbed by the greyhound wearing a Baysox hat than by Louie, but I don't think she got a good view of the green guy.

Natural Born Journalist

Celeste has a bit of the journalist in her: She is really good at recounting things that have gone on during the day (albeit sometimes confusing something that happened one afternoon vs. another or maybe confusing reality with something from a story she's read) and she loves finding out who people are and what they're doing. She often will point at someone — across the park, in line behind us at the grocery store, passing on the street — and ask "What his/her name?"

Often, we don't know the person she's referring to, so we've been encouraging Celeste to introduce herself and to ask the person she's interested in's name. Celeste has been very in to this game, although she often poises the question from 20 feet away and/or in some other manner that is sure to not get her an answer.

The thing is, however, lately she's not been running up to people and saying "Hi. My name is Celeste. What's your name?" ... no, instead she's been saying "Hi. My name is Zippity. What's your name?" (Except when we met Alejandro while on an "expotition" around the block last week, when, with a bit of prompting, I got her to say "Me llamo Celeste. ¿Como se llama?")

Dogs for the Arts

A few weeks ago, the local park had it's annual "Dogs for the Arts" day. They had a dog-and-owner look-alike contest, paw painting, and a few other events ... and a lot of dogs. Given that Celeste has decided a while ago that we are all dogs — if you refer to her as a little girl, she corrects you, "little puppy!"; or if you ask her to wash her hands, she responds, "no, paws!"; and everyone has or puppy appended to their name, for instance I am now "Daddy Dog" — there was no way we were missing this event.

Celeste did not disappoint, running around gleefully asking if she could pet all the dogs and often ending up giving them hugs. Last week, the local monthly city newspaper arrived and there was Celeste in an uncaptioned picture poised to strike [PDF of the full article].

The other thing about Celeste being a dog is that her name is now Zippity. A little while back, Evelin checked out Some Dog from the library. Pretty soon thereafter, Celeste identified herself with the little dog Zippity. She also started insisting that Quinn be called George, after the big dog in the story. Worryingly, as one friend noted, "George" is a nickname that could stick.

This matches up with Celeste insisting that she's a little sister, and generally resisting being identified as being "big." For a while, she would insist she couldn't be big because she couldn't touch the ceiling. Also, in her mind, big/little seemed to be a sex-linked trait: Pretty much all males were "big" and all females were "little." That's changed somewhat, and now Evelin is considered "mid-sized" by Celeste. I have no idea what any of this means, but it's pretty funny to be in one room talking to Quinn and telling her what a big girl she is, and then starting to correct myself to say "little girl" but before I can do so Celeste calls out from the other room "No! George is a little puppy."

What Book Is This?

Tonight, after the girls were in bed, Evelin had a mission for me: Retrieve a bookcase from a porch two towns over. Apparently, it was something off Freecycle that hadn't been claimed and Evelin thought it would help our book "problem." (I use scare quotes on the word because I don't think it qualifies as a problem, it's just a lot of books, falling off shelves and forming piles around the house — kind of like a library ... without the shhhh'ing, stacks, card catalogue, or defensible acquisition policy.)

After it was in place, Evelin started moving around other bits of furniture and rearranging the placement of books throughout the house. This is where the tale gets odd.

Among the things that have gone unblogged over the past few months is Celeste's reading. She loves books, all sorts of books: board books, books, "page books" (the term she came up with for paperbacks and hardbacks without pictures), etc. Those page books have very few clues as to the contents when you can't really read, but Celeste doesn't let that stop her ... especially when it come to mass-market size paperbacks. She's appropriated several of them, given them new titles, and she's totally consistent about it.

When Evelin was rearranging the books, she paused for a moment when shelving a copy of Wide Sargasso Sea (this edition), which Celeste has dubbed "Ripley^* Howls at the Moon."

Next, Evelin paused over a copy of Animal Farm. I asked, "Hey, what's Animal Farm?" and Evelin looked at me with a look of surprise, initially thinking I'd never heard of George Orwell or something. Not five minutes later, when she asked, "Hey, what's Field Guide to the Slug?" ... and I responded with a short discourse about gastropod mollusks ...

^*Ripley is Celeste's Flapjacks Dog, which Evelin's mother bought for Quinn, but Celeste appropriated as soon as it entered the house ... and thus began the end of her friendship with Dee Dee Bear.

Is This Thing On?

Hey, long time no blog. I'm still alive. The girls are all well. I've just between work and family gotten out of the habit of blogging, which is a shame because Quinn is growing rapidly and learning so many things and Celeste is coming up with a million cute, quotable lines every day.

Two examples:

1. Quinn: Last weekend, she signed BIRD pointed at a tree, said "bird" clearly, pointed again, and then Evelin had to duck a robin that flew out at them.
2. Celeste: On 3 July, I was tucking her in to bed and told her that the next day was a holiday and asked if she knew what that meant; she said, with much emotion and glee, "I think I get cake!"

This afternoon, I managed to get something on film (okay, a solid-state memory card, but that isn't very imagetic) that was too cute.

Last week, I dropped the very full dehumidifier bucket in the basement, spilling a lot of water and cracking the plastic. This afternoon, the new bucket I ordered on Friday arrived wrapped in about 5-feet of bubble wrap. When I spread it out on the floor and jumped on it, Celeste and Quinn were startled, but they quickly figured out what they were supposed to do.


Yes, sadly, that is "Who Let the Dogs Out" (Kidz Party Songs version) in the background. Celeste got stung by a bee and it took a fudgesicle and her favorite song — set on repeat for nigh an hour — to cheer her up.

Conversations With Celeste

There's a ton I need to blog — Vegas, New England, first child vs. second child, usw. — but I've been too swamped to blog it all. Still, there are a few things Celeste has been saying that I don't want to lose:

First, a few weeks ago she had a little cut on her hand, so I put some hydrogen peroxide (H₂O₂) on it. She fairly quickly recoiled and started crying, "It stings like mad!"

Second, a fairly common statement from Celeste these days: "I'm looking all over Maryland." This is usually said when she can't find Ripley or a book or something else ... and usually when she's just staring at one corner of the room.

Third, this afternoon on the way back to the car from the library, Celeste parked herself behind one of the columns that supports the canopy over the sidewalk to the parking lot and refused to move. I tried encouraging her to keep walking with me and Quinn and she said, "Uhm, no. I'm just standing here for no good reason."

A non-Celeste comment from the library. Quinn was stalking one of the librarians, walking over to her, pointing to her, asking her to pick her up, etc. D---, the librarian, has always liked Quinn and every time we see her there, she looks for a smile from Quinn. D--- made a comment to be about how friendly Quinn is, and I agreed saying she's quite the social butterfly ... which is quite different from her sister. D--- agreed, saying that she's tried to talk to Celeste a few times, but it's like talking to a wall.

1:30 a.m. PDT (Las Vegas)

I'm finishing up another convention newspaper project here in Las Vegas and had an odd incident very early this morning. Things are going better this year than the last time I worked this show two years ago, and we're getting back from the printer at much "better" times, which is good because I've been running a fever and generally ill since getting to Nevada.

After L--- dropped me off at The Aladdin^*, I stopped at the gift shop for a bottle of water and then headed to the elevators. Along the way, I passed a woman who suddenly stopped in front of me and said: "Wow."

I have a moment of panic: Is this someone I should know from the show, or someone I went to college or high school with?

"It's Abraham Lincoln," she said.^† Pointing to my beard. "Yes. Yes, it is," I said. As I continued on to the elevators, she said, "You have to excuse me, I'm really drunk."

^*Officially, it becomes Planet Hollywood Resort & Casino the morning after I check out, but there's so much PHRC branding that I was worried the cabby had dropped me off at the wrong place when I went to check in.

^†Funnily enough, my youngest cousin labeled me "Abraham Lincoln with a ponytail and earring" during one of my trips home from college.

Celebrating A Year of Quinn

Actually, it's 14 pics for 12 months, but some of them were just too cute to not use ...

Reading Things

For a while now, Celeste has been good at recognizing letters. She's perfect with uppercase letters and decent, but not perfect, with lowercase; she also seems to get the concept of letters representing words which represent ideas and things.

When asked, she can spell dog and bus and a few other words — both vocally and using her blocks or foam letters. (For some reason, the almost always spells train T-R-N-A-I. This is interesting to me and makes me wonder about language acquisition and languages that don't write out vowels. I also wonder if the /eɪ/ diphthong is the issue. Or if it's just that Celeste is a two-year-old.) She can also read off letters from book covers, food labels, etc.

Yesterday, I took Celeste and Quinn to the thrift store to pick up some books; 40¢ for paperbacks that are likely to be chewed is a very good thing. Among the titles I grabbed was Dan Yaccarino's So Big!. I didn't say anything about the book to either of the girls; it just caught my eye and I added it to the pile. I did notice Celeste flipping through it in the cart however.

Later that afternoon, Celeste was having me read some of the books when she pointed at So Big! and said, "Daddy, read So Big!" Again, I had never told her the title of the book. I asked her if she knew the title because of the words on the book and she nodded and asked me to read it. I asked her to read me the letters on the cover and she did so perfectly, only stumbling over the exclamation point. "S-O-B-I-G ... I don't remember."

Totally Unrelated

During a final proof for one of our magazines today, there was a two-deck headline on a column that read: "Where's the Fugawi / We're Here Now". Everyone was a little flummoxed by "fugawi," although there were the requisite namechecks of Fugazi. The term didn't appear in the column, and none of us at the table recognized. I asked the features editor if she'd googled it, and she said she hadn't. As I walked back to my desk to see if anything popped up, I thought of fugedaboudit and started playing with that /fʌːg/ sound in my mind and realized that fugawi corresponded all to well to "fuck are we."

It turns out, it's also the name of a brand of GPS software, which worked well with the headline, explaining the presence of the verb 's. At the same time, the Urban Dictionary's definition for the word matches up with the other meaning pretty well. The headline ended up being rewritten.

Go Red Sox!

This afternoon, Celeste, Quinn and I listened to the Sawx's home opener. Considering how Beckett was pitching and how most everyone who was not a Mariner was hitting, there was a lot of clapping and cheering and happy dancing ... and quizzical looks from Celeste and Quinn.

Celeste, however, is starting to get it. She joined in the "Go Red Sox!" cheers several times and didn't argue when I insisted we replace "home team" with "Red Sox" while singing "Take Me out to the Ball Game"^*.

When Evelin got home, I asked Celeste: "What did we say a lot this afternoon?" She looked at me confused, so I prompted her: "What did we say this afternoon when Beckett was striking out イチロー and 'Tek doubled?"

Celeste said "Go Red Sox!" [MP3]

She then turned and asked Evelin: "Mumma, do you know those words?"

^*The Hold Steady's version of "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" (free MP3 download via Spinner) is quite nice ... if only they weren't Twins fans ...

The Newest Member of Our Family ...

I don't think it will help Celeste get over her fear of vacuum cleaners, but our new Roomba Scheduler arrived yesterday and got its first test spin this morning. The battery wasn't fully seated in the unit, and it didn't get the full 16-hour refresh charge it needed, so it only ran for about a half-hour, but it was pretty cool. (And we've been telling Celeste it's a dog cleaning robot — if we give her a dog-related frame of reference for things, she's less likely to object to them, ergo, when Evelin added green beans to Celeste's soup last night initially she didn't want them, but when she was told they were poodle tails, she ate them all up.)

Celeste was okay with Roomba so long as she was watching it from the couch. Quinn kept a very close eye on it, doing a little shadowing and pointing, but she didn't want to get too close.

Tea Party!

Celeste, Stripy Pink, Ripley, and Sid have a tea party, which Quinn crashes ...

Talking to Toys

This morning, we did a little rearranging of furniture and ended up putting a bookcase and a bunch of books back into Celeste's room. Last year, we had to move the bookcase out of her room because the books were too big of a distraction for her at naptime/bedtime. We're giving it another go now that she's about 90% stopped napping — if nothing else, having a steady supply of books in her room may make quiet time more palatable even if she doesn't nap.

Of course, more than just books are ending up on the bookcase. Celeste was referring to it as Poodle's house and having one of her stuffed dogs play on it, and she had her pink purse, which is full of Little People dogs, on it.

After reading to Celeste, I went to try to get Quinn to sleep. While rocking her, I heard a loud scream from Celeste's room. I put Quinn down (much crying on Quinn's part at this point) to make sure Celeste was all right. It turns out her favorite stuffed animal, Ripley, wanted to play with pink purse ... and when she opened it a sea lion was in with all the dogs. Thus the scream. When I got into her room, most of the Little People dogs were in the bed with Celeste and her stuffed dogs, but the sea lion had been thrown to the floor.

I picked up the sea lion and got Celeste to put all the other dogs back in her pink purse, and I started to move pink purse from the room. Celeste insisted that Ripley wanted to play with pink purse, so I tried talking to Ripley: "Ripley, Celeste needs to get to sleep, so do you mind if I move pink purse and you can play with it later?"

Celeste is sitting in bed looking at me like I've lost my mind at this point. "Daddy, Ripley is a toy dog."

The First Camelia of 2007

I took this pic last week, but only just now got the new camphone working to post it. Our camellia (Camellia japonica var. ????) finally started blooming!

Postcrossing: 304

With work as crazy as it's been of late, I've neglected a lot of things, most obviously my blogging, but also Postcrossing. This morning, I took a moment and requested and sent off four new postcards and then ran the math on things. I have sent ±304 cards thus far to 32 countries.


Most of them continue to come from/go to Finland. Here's the breakdown:
121 cards (39.80%) involve Finland; 42 (13.82%) involve Germany; 20 (9.87%) involve the Netherlands; and 19 (6.25%) involve the United Kingdom.

France and Portugal are tied with 10 cards (3.29%) each, as are New Zealand and Brazil with nine cards (2.96%) each. Eight cards (2.63%) involve Canada and five (1.64%) involve Spain.

Austria, the Czech Republic and Japan involve four cards (1.32%) each. Three cards (0.99%) have come from/gone to each Belgium and Russia. Two cards (0.66%) involve Australia, Hungary, Italy, Lithuania, Singapore and Slovenia each.

I have gotten from or sent a card (0.33%) each of Croatia, Estonia, Iran, Ireland, Luxembourg, Malaysia, Norway, Poland, South Africa, Switzerland and the United States.

Digging a Hole

Yesterday, while emptying the new dirt from our the compost bin and pile to fill in some of the garden beds, I remembered my brother's hole to China. When we were kids, he spent a bit of time working hole in the side yard with the aim of tunneling through to the other side of the world. It ended up being only two feet or so deep, but had he made it through to the other side, it would have been a bit of a surprise where he'd've ended up.

According to Zefrank's "If the Earth Were a Sandwich" tool, directly opposite our old sideyard is a spot in the Indian Ocean, about 1,500 miles due west of Cervantes, Western Australia. (Via Keywords)

Scene: This Evening

We were at the park a bit late and saw I--- and P--- with their kids, B--- and F---. B--- is crazy about pirates, so I told I--- and P--- about Piratz Tavern, which I'd only just heard of a few days ago (via DC Baby). They said to e-mail them the info and they would definitely check it out.

After they'd left, Evelin realized she was a bit peckish and suggested we give the tavern a try ourselves. It was late, but Quinn had had a good nap and Celeste seemed in fine spirits (and has seemed ready to push her bedtime back a half hour or so of late). So ... we bundled everyone back into the BOB and went home to drive to Silver Spring.

On the way there, everyone was happy. Celeste was very keen to get some macaroni and cheese (as a two-year-old, her food adventurism is on the decline). When we arrived, however, we were greeted with the dreaded: "Do you have reservations?" Since we dinnae, it was a 30–40 minute wait. Apparently, they don't usually accept reservations, but the maitre d' suggested that, in the future, we call ahead, especially with the little ones, to get on the waiting list before we arrived.

Instead of waiting, we tried to interest Celeste in Ethiopian or Indian, but she wasn't interested. We ended up at a so-so Mexican place further down Georgia Avenue. Both girls had a good time, and Quinn did a great job spooning up beans and rice and spinach from my enchilada to feed herself.

On the way home, Celeste kept insisting she wanted to go "somewhere else." (Not an uncommon plea when she doesn't want to go straight home.) But it was around 7:30 p.m. at that point, which is the outside edge of Celeste's bedtime and well past Quinn's. On the drive home, Quinn chattered and cried much of the way; Celeste was talking and playing and suddenly dropped off soundly to sleep.

Scene: Earlier This Afternoon

Evelin is upstairs napping. I am upstairs trying to get Quinn settled for a nap. Celeste is playing happily downstairs. Just as Quinn seems to tip over from resisting to giving in to sleep, a scream rises from downstairs. I pop Quinn in the crib (and crying commences), holler for Evelin to see if she can help Quinn, and then run down the stairs to find ...

... Celeste's butt and legs poking out from under the couch. (The proof that I am a good father is that I didn't even think of taking a picture until hours after she was extricated from the situation.) She was fine, just a bit scared and freaked out, but still worried about the Matchbox race car she'd crawled under there to get.

The Water Cycle

The girls each have their bathtime water "thing."

Quinn gets herself into a splashing frenzy, slapping the water until her head is soaked and she's sputtering. Celeste thinks this is a riot. The first time it happened, Celeste pointed and said (with volume): "She making hot water!" And ever since then the Quinn splash-o-rama has been dubbed "hot water" ... and now it sounds like Quinn is trying to say "hot water" whenever she's about to start splashing.

Celeste, who usually gets to enjoy some solo bathtub time after Quinn gets out each night, has taken to lingering while the water drains out of the tub. One time she did this, I told her how the water flowed down the drain, through the pipes in our wall, out to the sewer under the street where it was carried to the water treatment facility and cleaned before being discharged back into the environment where it goes back into creeks and streams that make their way into rivers that feed the Chesapeake Bay from where it flows into the Atlantic Ocean. I also told her that all along the way, sun and wind act upon the water, causing evaporation, which makes water droplets go up into the sky where they condense into clouds and eventually cause rain and snow, which comes back to earth to recharge snowcaps and aquifers and fill rivers and lakes and reservoirs, which are eventually tapped by the water company to fill the pipe under our street that connects to the pipe in our house, which then fills Celeste's bathtub!

Now, pretty much every night, as the water drains, Celeste says: "Daddy, say those words again!" as she pulls the plug.

Daylight Savings Time

All in all, the girls seem to be adjusting to the early changeover to Daylight Savings Time fairly well. On Sunday, everyone was good and tired by 5:00 p.m. EDT, which made the normal 6:30–7:00 p.m. bedtime work out well. As the week's progressed, however, we have had a bit of slippage at least for Celeste.

Last night, I kept her up a little later than she should have been because she'd had a short nap and because I was hanging up the Iris roman blinds to replace the curtain that fell down in her room.

Once she'd been read to and tucked in, it wasn't long before she popped up, climbed on a chair and turned on her light. Over the monitor we hear: "Celeste woke up now!" So I go up and put her back in bed and move the chairs out of the room. After some protestations and crying, she fairly quickly ends up going to sleep.

Around 9:30 p.m., I'm on my way to bed and I peek in to check on her and Celeste is curled up, on top of her covers, sans pyjamas, and no diaper.

It was a little warm in the room (it got up to 81°F yesterday and it was humid), so I can understand the being out from under the covers, but I can only think of one or two times that she's taken off her own diaper like that. We managed to get a Pull-Ups on her without waking her and tucked a blanket or two around her.

This morning, Evelin said, she went in to the bathroom and pulled down the Pull-Ups to go to the potty without a second look. (Normally, she hates the Pull-Ups and the mere suggestion that she wear one for a nap or nighttime is greeted with scorn.)