Monday, November 30, 2009


I write about what Lily does a lot, but what about meeee?

Today I worked on some online inscription and payment forms for work, in preparation for a meeting tomorrow.
Tomorrow I will work on an online job board and an html email with tips for our students preparing English certificate exams.
Oh, and will meet with colleague about setting up the term end party which is also a film fest.

Lately, one day a week I work on learning MySQL and PHP for me, you know, for kicks. (Thanks Marty for suggesting that; it has worked out perfectly since a friend is doing a degree and her current course is with experts in database driven websites, so we can study together.)

I think you all now see why I write about Lily.


Tuesday, November 24, 2009

My glasses!

Glasses broke. Until I can afford new ones, had to figure out a way to mend them enough so I could at least still wear them at home at night when the eyes are tired of contacts.

In the end, I resorted to melting them back together.

Monday, November 23, 2009

The old poop and talk

Recently Lily has taken to reading while on the toilet. This means that she will often disappear for up to 20 minutes when doing a number 2. Generally about 18 minutes of that is reading time, during which she might call me twice to show me a magazine photo.

Yesterday Lily was on the toilet when her cousin Hannah called from England, having very recently returned from visiting her mother's family in South Korea. Lily was thrilled to be reading, pooping and talking, though most of the conversation consisted of "No Hannah, YOU'RE a stinker bum. No, you're a WASHING machine! Ha ha, ha ha."

After about 10 minutes, the conversation moved on to our front hallway where Lily carried on like a 13-year-old. Incredible.

In other news, Lily still loves Santa in a deferent, worshipful sort of way. She calls him Christmas because the British call him Father Christmas, and she doesn't quite get that you're supposed to say Father and Christmas.

We walked past a bakery yesterday with this jazz-playing Santa and in typical Lily-loves-Santa style, when she spotted him, she stopped abruptly and gasped in a quiet, serious, awe-struck voice, "Christmas."

We stayed 10 minutes watching him play jazz. She hugged him. She gently held his hand. Amazing what a big bit of dancing plastic can summon from the depths of a child.

3-year-old therapy sessions

I've said it for 10 months now: I hope with the next kid, I can just birth a 3-year-old.

Lily's just so fun, inquisitive and thoughtful. Using Stephen Covey's old "talking stick" method really works on her and if I just shut up, it's amazing the deep thoughts that come out.

The best recent example relates to her school life. I try to encourage Lily to talk about "nice kids" and "naughty kids" to get her thinking about what actions she likes people to do to her and which she doesn't, if the "naughty kids" are "bad" or just having a bad day, what she can do to help the "naughty kids", and when to just leave them be. Usually when we're snuggling in bed, or at dinner, I'll ask who made her happy and who made her cross today at school.

Observations she has made on her own include,

"Marcel gets sad when his mummy isn't there. He's scared and then he hits. I don't like it, but he's just not happy."

"Gerard (her best friend) hit me today on the playground. I was playing with Valeria (her friend from music class), so I think he was just jealous. I told him no and he went away."

A commonplace event on the Spanish playground is that kids shout "malo!" or "mala!" at each other, which means "BAD!". I really don't like this one and Lil says it from time to time when someone commits a minor transgression against her. When she was talking about Marcel, I brought this up, asking:

"If Marcel is feeling sad about his mom, so he hits someone, what will he feel when someone calls him "malo"? Will he feel better, or sadder?" I mimed sad body language, slumped shoulders and sad face when I did it, and got even slumpier at the "malo" part.

This seemed to drive the point home and her face went really serious. "No, he'd feel sadder," Lily responded grimly. We left it at that, so I suppose it will stew until the next time it's relevant.