Wrapping Up

From here on out, it will be current or semi-current updates. But this is what we get for me taking a small sabbatical.

Hands down, my favorite part of christmas this year was playing student in Miss E's class. If this girl doesn't do something where a crowd of eyes are staring at her, then there's no hope for any of us. She's a natural performer.

Setting up shop in front of the fireplace

Reviewing the class rules: 1) Be quiet while teacher is talking. 2) Raise your hand if you have a question. 3) Tell the teacher if you need to use the bathroom. 4) No interruptin'

I thought she added the accent on #4 for my benefit since I'm further south than she is. And when I did in fact interrupt, at least she didn't try to please the Arkansas in me by saying "Oh C, you're a mess." You remember my disdain for that phrase... here.

K had #2 down pat, and R needed a tutor for this subject apparently.

My other favorite parts of the day? Here's just a few:

Helping prep the food with mom in our aprons.

Gut laughs during our White Elephant party with the cousins, aunts, & uncles.

And last but certainly not least, passing around the sick baby doll and giving him shots in the rear.

 

Range of Emotions

Okay, before we get started, I want to make sure you keep your eyes on R the whole time. Otherwise, you'll go stir crazy. Our local library has a little corner in which they sell used books, so our bookshelves have kind of exploded and we've yet to organize. Also, there's a little wire behind our computer that I cannot seem to keep tucked into our 50's style roadside find.

(psssst, that is one of my favorite styles in furniture).

Anyway, that darn wire haunts me. It's like the little spider in the Bernstein Bears books.

So now that you are focused on R, I have to mention how much I like watching games with him. When he gets excited he does this little karate kick, double punch thing while yelling our alma mater's name. I wasn't fast enough to catch it, but it happens.

Last night we played KU. And we lost. The game gave me an ulcer.

R's emotions ranged from jubilation to hopefulness to disbelief to annoyance.

Let's watch.


Sad night.

I'm sure this post will too...

I've started tutoring an ESL student a couple days a week after work. It's only until you're talking with a foreign speaker that you realize how many idioms you use in not just a day, but a conversation.

As I was flipping through my notebook today, deciding on a tongue twister to practice tomorrow (maybe Peter Piper?), I re-read a page from last week. There were three phrases on the paper meticulously written out for her to copy. They had been used just moments before writing, as it dawned on me that she may not know their meaning.

And with just these three lines, you can easily tell how our conversation went:

"to have ______ down." or "to have [got] ______ down [pat]".

regarding conversation starters "to get your foot in the door"

and finally...

"my joke bombed"

... ah, i can only laugh at myself. even if no one else will.

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we are having internet troubles right now, so you may be forced to read posts sans photos for a few days. I've had some interesting things happen lately (with photos), so this will be tough.

plus, i still need to do part two of the grand canyon. chomping at the bits, here.

try explaining that one to a student.

Pouting

This is what happens when I tease R too much. He puts a blanket over his head and then asks for a cookie. At least he's wearing his KSU slippers. Okay, chocolate chip or oatmeal raisin?

Shadows

Doesn't this remind you of the cut-out shadows you created in pre-school? I can still feel the crayon move slowly around my head...along my arms...and then in between my fingers as I was traced onto paper. Smiling to my little self and relishing those few moments of complete relaxation. That just might have been my first yoga class.

Back in the school saddle again...

I thought I only had one preconception of my sign language class: the more I had to practice sign language at home, the more silence there would be for R. A win-win situation. I quickly realized how many more suppressed ideas I really did have. Let me list them. I thought that:

• the teacher (A.) would not be deaf -- Why was I shocked when a man standing in front of the room was rapidly signing about how he wanted to strangle his high school class from earlier that day. He was making small noises that kind of sounded like words, but only when you knew exactly what he was saying via the interpreter. Speaking of which...
• due to said deaf instructor, we would have an interpreter -- Actually we did have an interpreter for this first class. But A. was quick to inform us that this was the last time he would be interpreting for us. As soon as we walk through the door next week, it will be silent. For two hours. No speaking allowed. Am I capable?
• my class is past 3rd grade level -- When given an open forum, why did one person actually ask "When did deafness start?" [I think] the interpreter deliberately misinterpreted the question. So, based on what the interpreter signed, A. answered with a brief history of the only deaf college in America (his alma mater -- of which he had previously mentioned in class).
• i wasn't going to be afraid to state my name and why i wanted to take this class -- For a second I imagined myself launching into all of my fears leading up to my previous blog post. I somehow managed to fall back onto the ole "i'd like to take on a new challenge". That always works. 
• sign language is all about your hands -- This is going to be more of an acting class than anything else. Expression is key to signing effectively. Asking 'why?' versus 'WHY?' is distinct by your facial expression.

I've already sized up my class too. There's the straight-A cocky student who sits in the front of the classroom, signing back to the teacher throughout his lecture to us. Isn't that the same as talking? So why wouldn't that be just as rude as responding with "I agree" or "Yes" or "Amen!" every time someone says a sentence in a lecture setting?

There's the mid-sixties couple who are learning sign language because the man has been given a couple years before he is completely deaf. He seems reluctant and/or sad to be there. I'm glad he has our instructor, though, because A. is very gregarious and interesting minus the interpreter. A good representation of the quality of life one can have without this sense.

Then there's the girl who chose a seat in the middle of the classroom, expecting to have at least one person to talk to. Instead, every seat to the front, back, and sides of her stayed empty. That's me. Do I have the plague? Maybe I've already lost my sense of smell. Literally, people chose to sit in the front row rather than next to me in the middle. That's bad.

At the end of class, A. tickled my foreign language fancy by sharing a mistranslation of the sign language sort. In college, he met a friend from Ireland. Because of the different dialects (and therefore, different signs), they would go all over town signing words for this and that. Below is the sign for 'candy' in America. Let's just say, don't ask for 'candy' in Ireland. It will either cost a lot or you'll get slapped, depending on who you ask. 

Don't ask why I look like a demon. I got a little crazy with the red eye reducer.

I'd choose common sense. Oh, done.

Tomorrow I'm attending my first sign language class. I don't know why I chose this subject to study. It may be due to my slight paranoia of losing a sense and then not having a way to communicate. Like you know when you dust off your earphones and put them in, only to have your ear drums blown out by the decibel level? What if it was just loud enough to make you go deaf? What if after you put in your earphones, you step back and crash into your hallway mirror, causing shards of glass to fly into your eyes & mouth and then you're blind and mute? The next thing you know, some lady is nodding her head excitedly in your hand because you finally signed the word 'water'. Well, after these classes, I'll be prepared.

Because of my recent morbid obsession, it has brought to light some good conversation. What sense could I live without? If I go blind, you would have to describe the environment to me. And then I'd be mad if you left out small details like.. the gilding on the ceiling molding is chipping away from the white plaster underneath. I mean, c'mon. That type of detail can make or break the feeling of a room. If I go deaf, I wouldn't be able to differentiate between real and courtesy laughs. Eventually, I would assume you were just mouthing laughter and so I'd force you to laugh into my hand so I could feel your breath. If I lose my smell, I wouldn't be able to tell if the cucumber that's been in the fridge since 1998 is ready to be thrown out. Why name it the crisper drawer if it's not going to keep its crunch. If I lose my taste, well.. that might not be a bad thing from a waistline point of view. But how can anyone live without 'The Paper Bag' dessert from McCormick & Schmick's? If I lose my touch*, I would last about two minutes on this earth. I am a complete Amelia Bedelia. And even though she isn't known to be clumsy, (only literal -- for example, when asked to draw the drapes at sunrise, she uses a pencil and paper instead of just closing the drapes), her name has a somewhat awkward sound to it & so I use it to describe this unfortunate gene. 

Well, I'm sure I'll blog about it when I do lose a sense. If I can still see the screen, that is..

*I just learned that this is the one sense no one can live without. See title of post.