Back in December, Nora had surgery to clear dried goop out of her middle ears, pierce the eardrum, and insert small silicone tubes to prevent the goop from building back up. The surgery meant general anesthesia (grape flavored) but was otherwise routine. True to form, Nora was an absolute trouper. Before the surgery she had ~30dB hearing loss (in other words, her middle ear was doing none of its normal amplification job). After the surgery, she could hear a cat purring in Kansas during a rainstorm.
Monthly archives for May, 2012
One Sunday morning, Nora informed me that she didn’t know how to do my teaching work or my reading work but that she could absolutely manage to do my meeting work, “because that’s just people talking to each other.” So she arranged a meeting and, at the meeting, enlisted my help giving her the letters needed to spell the words on her agenda. Here is a scan of that agenda.
She wanted to (1) go to the butterfly garden, ideally with her friends Ursula and Zoey, (2) transplant her sunflower sprout from the cup in the kitchen window to a new pot on the patio, (3) she really wanted to go to a playground that day and (4) her easel was running low on paper. As is usually the case for me, I was the only one who left the meeting with any action items.
Nora’s recently become quite fond of poetry. Every night (after flossing, brushing, bath, and pajamas) Jen reads her a chapter (or two) from the Laura Ingalls Wilder books (Nora refers to this simply as “Laura”). Then there is sheet flipping where Nora centers herself on the bed and I flap her sheet up and down like a parachute in gym class. Then there is our old standard snuggling and singing time only now, often as not, she will request a poem instead of one or more of the songs. This poem can be a nursery rhyme, but she’s also game for just about anything we’re willing to read to her. Last week at the zoo I overheard her calling out the trochees of Blake’s “The Tyger” to, fittingly enough, a tiger (Madeline may say “pooh pooh” to the tiger in the zoo, but Nora says “Tyger! Tyger! Burning bright! In the forests of the night!”.
Currently her favorite poem is “Nothing Gold Can Stay” by Robert Frost. One thing Nora has in common with Frost is that both used to live on Pontiac Trail in Ann Arbor –his house (which Henry Ford later moved to Greenfield Village) used to be two blocks toward town from our old place.
Nature’s first green is gold
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.
It’s a bit sunny in Texas and our camera’s light sensor thing is kinda busted. We’re considering the purchase of a new camera that might help us get rubberducky back on the air.