Has modern technology left you completely useless?

It all started back in high school when we were required to use graphing calculators for higher level math. I was one who struggled with my multiplication tables in the 3rd grade, but by the start of high school, I impressed even myself with the speed at which I could do math, almost without effort. Then we had to rely on those horrid technological crutches in order to do math that we never saw in the real world. In the process, we all lost our ability to do quick calculations in our heads. I noticed it among all my friends in all different level math classes. To this day, I have not regained that ability nor can I calculate a curve or do anything remotely resembling the calculus I was forced to endure in high school.

Now, our phones have memory options. My home phone lets me use the caller ID to contact a friend who called previously. On my cell phone, all my frequent numbers are assigned a single digit.

Last week, we were out without my phone, so dh took a picture on his phone that I wanted to send to my sister's cell. He asked, "What's her number?" To which, I could only reply, "6." I don't believe I have ever actually dialed her cell phone number other than when I initially entered it in my phone book on my cell.

I have no idea what some of my friends' e-mail addresses are. I type in their name or nickname (and in some cases, I don't even have to type the full name and it will auto fill) and the rest is automatically filled in.

Just now, I grabbed the home phone and sat down to call a friend. Only NOW can I dial her number (which is very simple). She's had it for at least a year. In the past, I just left her on the caller ID and scrolled through to find her.

I have a fabulous memory for random things. I can remember my first grade best friend's phone number (which I just googled and found has been assigned to someone completely different). I can remember birth dates for people I haven't seen in 10 or even 20 years. I can quote statistics off the top of my head. Yet, thanks to the modern marvel of technology, I can't even remember current phone numbers.

Please tell me I'm not alone here.

My husband needs to learn to sign.

There are oh so many reasons why that is the case, but today, I learned one more reason. If he learned to sign, then he wouldn't stare at me blankly when I finger spelled, "WTF."

Although, when I took a break to give him another chance to figure it out, he got the W and the T and he said, "Sometimes, that's all that needs to be said." ;-)

Two little words that can change your life.

Did you say, "Thank you," today?

I try to say it, but I realize I don't say it nearly enough. The next time someone thanks you, stop and think about what it really means. Don't think of it as a trite phrase, realize that it means someone has recognized you and they appreciate what you have done. When you realize that, maybe you'll use it more. Make sure you thank those around you. You never know what it might do for them. I can't find it now, but recently, I came across a postcard at Post Secret where someone admitted to wanting to kill him/herself, but nice strangers kept him/her from doing it. Someone else wrote in to say he/she was in the same situation.

To my husband who agreed to run around with us today even though he's sick, Thank you.

to the man who works the window at Starbucks even though he's deaf (he handles the face-to-face stuff at the window). Thank you for giving me the opportunity to show my children what people with disabilities CAN do. I hear so often, "He/she can't do that because he/she is disabled." It's wonderful to have a real-life example where I have the opportunity to show the kids that people have far more abilities than disabilities. Oh and thanks for signing with me (without laughing at my feeble attempt) even though I know my ASL skills are lacking.



Thank you to my big kids for all their help. Sometimes, I want to sell you on e-bay, but more often than not, I'm floored at how much you love each other and what you're willing to do to help out with your little brother.

THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU to my friends who were not only there for me when I needed it, but who even provided tchochkis great conversation and wine.

THANK YOU to 2 of the aforementioned friends who not only stepped up, but jumped at the chance to help when I had to go out of state for a funeral and dh couldn't get off work. We were frantic and had no clue what we were going to do, but two of my friends (including one who really didn't know me that well) watched the girls all day for 2 days. I will be forever in their debt. We have yet to come up with a proper way to thank them. If anyone has ideas, please let me know.

To that cashier at the store who let my daughters use the "Private. Employees Only" bathroom, thank you so very much.

To that teenage girl who raced after me in the mall in order to give me back my son's brand new and oh so adorable sweat shirt that had fallen, thank you. I hope I got across how much I appreciated it, but I'm afraid I didn't.

Thank you to a specific teacher friend who jumped at the chance to help me out with a reading question even though the two siblings I have who are teachers never responded.

Thank you to my niece who is absolutely wonderful and who is NOT insane. That's always a plus in our family even if it is rare.

To those who provide fodder for my funny bone as well as my deeper thoughts through their blogs, thank you. I'm constantly checking my Google Reader to see who has updated today. I admit that there are a specific few who always make my heart skip a beat when I see they've updated. Most of these people, I have never met, yet I eagerly follow along with their lives and their thoughts. Thank you for taking time from your day to blog. Whether your blog entry consists of a humorous account of those around you or an in-depth discussion of all things spiritual, I really do appreciate it. Sometimes, something you write inspires me to think differently or do something I never considered before. The fact that someone across the country or across the world can write something and create a change in me is astounding. Thank you.

To whomever created Frappaccinos, thank you.

To my sister and another friend who went above and beyond and took me to the amazing chocolate shoppe I've been wanting to try and then wouldn't let me pay for my order, thank you.

To my son who potty trained earlier than everyone insisted was possible, THANK YOU. Let me repeat that, THANK YOU.

Thank you so much to a friend's mother who, nearly a decade later, still raves about my wedding even when our own families hated it because it was so "different." And thank you to that friend for relaying that conversation.

Thank you to Kamrin for oh so much. From introducing me to the concept of simplifying, to always being there for others even when struggling through so much yourself, thank you.

I don't always appreciate the way my mother parented and I'm making different decisions for our family, but she was a strong female role model who helped shape my Feminist thinking. Thank you.

Thanks to my dad for being friends with everyone. Sure, sometimes it's embarassing when he insists on trying to speak what little bit of another language he knows (and loudly--oh so very loudly), but I think his openness and lack of fear towards others was a wonderful example for us to see growing up.

Thank you to the local radio station for offering free tickets to a kids' show and thank you to my husband for humoring me and calling on his cell phone even though I was already calling at the same time (I didn't win the tickets. He did).

I could do this forever, but instead, I'll end with a challenge. Make sure you thank at least one person every day--be truly thankful, don't just use the phrase in passing. Make a point of noticing when someone says, "Thank you," to you as well. Don't just brush it off. Realize that they're telling you how much they appreciate you.

"Waiting for the world to change" from the deaf perspective

I LOVE this video.

While my children are hearing, I've mentioned that they have an affinity for Leah Coleman who is deaf. My kids know some ASL and they adore the Signing Time DVDs (They got the latest set yesterday for Chanukah and are thrilled by this fact. TheBoy even grinned, signed "Sign" and said, "Time," when he saw them). They've never met Leah IRL, but they insist she is their friend (her little sister Lucy too). My girls have explained to me that they're learning ASL so that they can talk to Leah.

Years and years ago, I damn near worshiped Linda from Sesame Street. I don't know why, but she and her language just fascinated me. When I was a kid, my mother got her hair done every week with Linda's mother and I thought that was the coolest thing in the world.


Language has always fascinated me. Notice one of the quotations I featured in my last Thursday Thirteen:

• "Only where there is language is there world."-Adrienne Rich

I'm also compelled by injustice. When I watched this video, I was just horrified by some of the quotations in there regarding those who are deaf. It's just disgusting. At the same time, I'm thrilled by watching the folks in this video perform. That little girl especially just makes me smile.

Go watch this video. It's eye-opening and very neat.

Warning Signs

Today, The Boy signed, "Cat," and in the process, poked himself in the face.

Spinach is contaminated with e-coli. Toys are coated in lead paint. And now, even forms of communication aren't safe.

Why do I keep hearing the chant, "You'll poke your eye out," from that Christmas movie with the leg lamp and the bunny pjs?

I seem to have misplaced my dignity, but I know exactly where the poop is.

Prepare yourself. This entry deals with potty-training. If you don't have kids, this may seem like one of the strangest things in the world. There is no way to accurately explain how much your conversations change once you have kids. Elimination (whether it be in diapers, potty chairs, toilets, clothing or all over the floor) regularly becomes a topic and it usually doesn't even gross you out in the least. Ah, the joys of parenthood.

The Boy pooped on the potty today. He later tried to pee on the potty, but it was still in the sink after being washed out from the aforementioned pooping. He grabbed himself and walked quickly in the direction of where the potty should have been, but was not. He left a line of small puddles in his wake. But hey, I'll take what I can get (and I'll mop up what I can't).

His sisters are being wonderful about this. Girl2 informed me, "I'm excited to potty train him all by myself." They both sat there and read him books to keep him entertained on the potty. After he pooped, the sisters cheered for him. Girl2 gave him hand sanitizer (my son is strange. He LOVES hand sanitizer. He even created his own sign for it.). We all danced around the house together in a conga line singing, "You pooped on the potty," which was met with grins, laughter and giggles from sir poops-a-lot. When they cheered for him, he stomped and clapped too. Having twins is harrowing when you're trying to potty-train two toddlers at once (by yourself when your husband is deployed), but it's so worth it when they grow into not one, but TWO bigger kids who actually want to help and do so quite well.

I often say, "Your dignity is delivered with the placenta." I also think there's teeny tiny print somewhere in those adoption forms that also notes that your dignity will quietly slip away in the night. I'm often heard singing, "Where oh where has my dignity gone? Oh where oh where can it be?" I can tell ya one thing, it's nowhere near my house today. Even if I had any shred left, I'd gladly trade it if it meant no more diapers to buy/wash.

Thanks for the mamaries

My son did the sweetest thing today. At bedtime, I sat down to nurse him. He latched on, sucked for about 3 seconds, came off, looked at me, signed "Thank you," said "Tank," and went back to nursing.

sigh


It's times like these that I love everything about motherhood.

Restoring my faith in humanity

Yesterday, my faith in humanity was restored at least a little bit.

I took the kids out to eat for lunch (we had just done the Pesach cleaning the night before as is required by law and I did NOT want to add any chametz to the household). I was trying to juggle the baby, the drinks, the girls, and a tray of food when an elderly woman tapped me on the shoulder and insisted she help. It wasn't until after she carried our food to the table that I realized she had her grandson with her. A few minutes later, I would realize he had a disability. So this woman offered to help us even though hers is obviously not an easy life. I was very impressed and humbled.

While we ate, I noticed the little boy had a disability. He was about 5, but was unable to speak. He repeated the same sound several times and flailed his arms. He also seemed to have impulse control issues (he climbed up on top of tables and walked along the window sills).

I wondered how my girls would treat him if they played together. They all headed towards the play structure together. Girl1, in her usual fashion, introduced herself and asked the boy his name. He didn't answer, but that didn't stop them. They all climbed up and all three slid down together, giggling the entire time. My girls tried to talk to him a few times, but he never answered nor did he seem to respond much to what they said. He did, however, respond with giggles and smiles while they all played together.

On the way home, Girl1 said, "I asked him his name, but he didn't answer." I tried explaining that he couldn't speak because he had a disability. The girls didn't understand and I was put on the spot, but I tried to explain it. I told them, "Some people have a difficult time doing things or there may be some things they can't do at all, but that doesn't mean they can't play with you. You might have to do some things differently, but you can still play together." I gave them Lucy as an example and said, "Lucy has a disability. She can't walk, but she can still play." They pointed out that they know that's true because they've seen Lucy singing and playing on the swings in the Signing Time DVDs. Then Girl2 threw out Lucy's big sister. "Leah has a disability too. She can't hear, but we can play with her too. because we can sign." I told them it was exactly like that. Granted, my kids' knowledge of signs is very limited and they probably couldn't converse much with Leah, but dammnit, they would certainly try. From the time they were about 2 & 1/2, if you asked them why we sign, they would answer, "So we can play with Leah."

I was so thrilled that the kids played together. They didn't see any difference in abilities. My girls didn't even see the disability. The kids only saw each other as friends. They could all giggle. They could all smile. That was the important thing.

To be honest, I was a little leary about even pointing out that the boy was any different from them. If Girl1 hadn't mentioned it, I wouldn't have said anything. I want them to keep that innocence. I want them to be able to enjoy someone's company regardless of what he can or cannot do. But at the same time, I'm so proud that it's very matter-of-fact to them. Sure, some people are different, but it doesn't actually make much of a difference. You can still play with them and that's the only thing that's important.

It may take lying, cheating and stealing to make me doubt humanity, but all it takes is a group of kindergarteners playing together to restore it.

Have I mentioned lately just how much I adore my kids?

Too smart for OUR good.

While we were sitting at the restaurant waiting for our food, The Boy started signing "Please," so I shared my water with him. Soon, though, it became apparent that he was hungry. Water was just not cutting it for him. I told him the food would come soon, but he was still annoyed. Finally, I told him, "I have no food. What do you want me to do? There's no food." It was then that he pointed over to a recently vacated table, still loaded with leftover food and said, "Right dare."

Last week, we were in a store and dh couldn't find me. He was holding The Boy at the time and dh asked out loud, "Where is your mother?" The Boy pointed and said, "Right dare." Sure enough, dh walked in the direction The Boy had pointed and there I was. When dh told me what had happened, he misquoted the baby. Dh told me The Boy said, 'Over dare." Well, The Boy (who was still in dh's arms) points right at me and says "RIGHT dare," with an emphasis on the word "Right (as should be evident by my use of caps)."

The baby corrected his father.

This kid is too freaking smart for our own good.