Resolutions

As the start of the new year came and went, I thought of things I'd like to make an effort to change in 2011. One of my on-going goals is to be more "green". Despite saying in the past that I want to drive less, I've often used the car I have at my disposal instead of taking public transportation, out of convenience. Sometimes, even when I want to do something, I need incentive. So I bought myself a trolley/subway/bus pass so that I would not have an excuse to drive anymore, because now I can take public transportation for "free" (I play this little game with myself where something I paid for in the past is now free--and it works!). This resolution turns my half hour comfortable drive to and from work while listening to NPR into an hour to hour and a half commute each way on three different forms of public transit. I'm trying to embrace the longer commute while thinking about the gas money I'm saving and the air I'm not polluting (by myself) anymore.

Another resolution, which I have every year, is to be healthier. I have to admit that I eat much healthier than I ever have before, which has a lot to do with the vegetable-loving people I live with. I always liked vegetables, but have expanded my horizons to things I never cooked and rarely ate before--including collard greens, kale, beets, and squash, to name a few. This ties into my "green" resolution because I am now trying to buy the bulk of my food for the week at the local farmer's market, which means my food is traveling less distance to get to me, and because it is all food that is in season, less energy is used to grow it than many of the foods I would buy at the grocery store. Public transportation/biking instead of driving has forced me to do more walking and pedaling, which is better for the earth as well as my body--win, win!

I've been trying to cut down my paper consumption as well. I'm constantly perplexed when I hear people say that the paper products they're using have already been made, so there's no harm in using (or over-using them). I even know certain economics majors, whom I love dearly, who argue this. I came very close to failing economics 101, but the one concept I did grasp was the idea of supply and demand. I haven't bought any paper towels since May of last year (well, with one exception), and find that dish towels can do the job that any paper towel can do, and can be re-used--more times, even, than those paper towels on the commercials that you see the woman wringing out and re-using. Amazing. My one exception was a roll of paper towels that I keep far out of reach (so they're not convenient at all) under the sink, which I bought after a nausea-inducing episode with a friend's cat who got rather violently ill at my apartment this summer. I'll spare you the details on that one.

I have been trying to read more articles for school on the computer as opposed to printing them out. I still can't decide if it's worth my eyesight to do this. I have not yet stopped using toilet paper though, so rest easy.

These are my ongoing goals for the new year. I often feel discouraged at the state of our country and world in regards to many things, but especially people's respect for the environment. I have been inspired by the number of urban farms popping up in Philadelphia though, which not only help the land, but also the people living in the food deserts all over the city. I hope the trend continues to spread.

Joe-isms

It has been way too long since I've posted anything here. I was pretty overwhelmed with starting my graduate programs, and have been constantly overwhelmed since. It's a great program (MSW at UPenn), but it's a lot. One of the reasons I love it so much is that from day one, students are placed in the field three full days a week. I have always been more of a hands-on learner, and I think this aspect of the program really makes it stand out from others. I have wonderful, brilliant professors who make the two days I am in the classroom an enjoyable experience. My favorite professor, who taught "Foundations for Social Work Practice"--our only year-long course which revolved around our field placements, died tragically in a bike accident in the middle of the semester. In the short time I knew him, I learned so much, and actually remembered what I learned weeks later. He made me excited to get up on Wednesday mornings and show up in our window-less classroom at 9am. Every class was like a comedy routine, filled with personal anecdotes about social work practice, from his 30 or so years as a private practitioner. His energy and enthusiasm for the field filled up the room, made people smile, and often made me crack up. Another gift he had was making people feel unique and special. He remembered everyone by name, and when he visited our field placements, he raved about us to our supervisors, telling them how lucky they were to have us. One could argue that anyone could talk up a student, but he would actually quote things we had said in class, or bring up a small part of our histories we had shared the first day during introductions. I often remember little things he said, or advice he gave about social work practice. This week, a classmate started an email that has been circulating with different "Joe-isms" people wrote down in their notes from class. I leave you with them:

"Social workers have to know how to do good phone"

"Get to know the receptionist and support staff at any agency. they are the Main Grape on the gossip vine."

When you're on a home visit, never sit down in the kitchen." --this was never explained

(Comparing the medical model) "you came to see me, there's something wrong with you" (with the 'Social Work jargon model') "oh no, everything's beautiful, we'll be friends!"

(On referring to George W. Bush talking about "terrorists) *They hate us because of our freedom. No, they hate us because we've been bombing their asses for the past 30 years.

"Less said, best said sometimes."

"He who laughs, lasts." -Mary Poole

"Wherever you are, be there." -Ghandi

"When you find your place, practice begins." -Dogen

(On clinical practice) "There isn't a damn thing we do in social work that doesn't require clinical practice."

(On something a text book author said about assessment) "Social workers can also obtain records from other sources... yeah good luck getting that."

"We’re social workers, we’re not Republicans"

"If you ever want to understand how the world works, go outside and look at the Wharton Business School building. Then look at Castor. Look at Wharton. Look at Castor. You’ll get it"

"If you’re going into Social Work, you’re already a yenta."

"Don’t have sex with your clients. EVER."

"Social workers are historically the dowdiest dressers in an office."

"Don’t use your clients’ real names when you talk about them. Whenever I accidentally do that, I cover it up by saying, 'But of course that’s not their real name.' Works every time. Well, it did."

(On contracting) "Successful contracting helps the client want what they need."

(On making sure the client understand the contract) "Do it early, do it clearly."

(On strengths perspective) "There is tremendous power in the spoken word. What we say and how we say it matters."

(On beginnings / building a relationship with clients) "Clients don't come to you because they need a friend."

(On middles) "Like walking in mud."

(On endings) "You are always going to be dealing with endings."

Moving forward, Looking back

Today is my lst official day as a full-time nanny. It has been 10 months since I started this job with these three families, and what a ride it has been. It has been much more challenging than I ever thought it would be, but it has also been so much more rewarding that I could have ever expected.

The three families I worked for were all extremely different in terms of parenting styles, foods eaten, schedules, styles of discipline, and common activities for the kids. This was a major challenge in itself, because I was constantly adjusting to going back and forth betwee each one as each day and week passed. Even something as simple as what each kid called going to the bathroom, be it "going to the potty, making a fountain, or using the bathroom" was hard for me to keep track of and consistent for each indidividual at times. During my ten months, all three, three- year-old, boys were successfully potty trained. They all took different routes, and there were times, I admit, that I never thought they'd learn how to pull up their pants, much less actually use the toilet. I never could have imagined the satisfaction and feeling of success that a potty trained kid can bring, until I experience this with them and with their parents.

I often thought of these three boys, the three-year-olds, in terms of how they filled something up. I mean this in the most literal sense, of filling up a bucket with sand, or a glass with water. C, who is extremely smart and overly cautious, would fill something up about a half inch below the top of whatever he was pouring into. K, who is pretty well rounded and easy going, would fill it up pretty much exactly to the line. L, who is a wild child and likes to screech and laugh most of the time, would just keep pouring the sand or water into the bucket until there was nothing left in the original container, no matter how much it overflowed. These simple observations say so much about their personalities and temperments, and give me a little bit of a sense of what they will be like when they're older.

The younger siblings of these three boys really came a long way in the ten months as well. When I started working, T (K's little brother) was only 5 months old. He couldn't sit up yet, and taking care of him pretty much consisted of bottle feedings and diaper changing, and putting him in a bouncy seat. Now he is 15 months old, and went from sitting up to crawling to walking, to running in that short time. He now has such a strong, bubbly personality and loves to joke and laugh.

A (L's little brother) was just shy of 15 months old when I started, and wasn't walking yet. He started at about 18 months old, and is now running all over the place, like any almost two-year-old. He also started talking over the past ten months and now has a very large vocabulary. He recently started saying my name, which comes out as "Sah", but is unmistakeable. A loves to climb things and horse around. He does well at keeping up with his big brother, who I think likes him a lot better now that they can play together.

Baby A (C's little sister) was not even born yet when I started working for her family. She was born in January, a couple weeks later than expected. She just turned 6 months old, and despite a lot of health problems related to her digestive system, is one of the happiest babies I've ever met. She smiles and shrieks and giggles, pretty much all the time. She went from being a tiny little floppy baby, to a big round chubby, jolly little girl. It amazes me that when I first met her family, she wasn't even out in the world yet.

I could go on and on about the wonders of watching these kids grow over the past year. I sometimes think about how I could create a whole resume based on the last ten months that includes skills such as being an expert wooden railroad track builder, making up dozens of stories on the spot, drawing all sorts of things by request (even when I'm not quite sure what they are), getting kids to eat things they've never tried, successful potty training, and best of all:finding patience and energy when I feel like there is nothing left in me.

I am so grateful to these six children and their families for what they have given me this year. I plan to keep in touch with them and continue watching them occasionally while I am in grad school next year. I sure will miss their happy little faces running to the door when I walk in. I wonder if there is any better way to start work than that.

Unintentional Eavesdropping

While I am taking care of small children, I tend to hear a lot of things that either I feel like I shouldn't hear, or that really just shock me. Unfortunately, when these things are overheard, I am usually only in the company of one or two children, who are totally oblivious to it, and would probably still be if I explained the whole scenario.

Yesterday, for example, I was sitting in my usual spot on the little platform below the fish tank in the "Inside Out" kids room at the Academy Of Natural Sciences. C was doing what he always does, making sand piles and "roads" in the big sandbox they have there. I was sifting through my head for interesting things to think about, or interesting people to text, to get me through the inevitable hour of watching C play with the sand (he never really wants anyone to play with him). Then a man walks in, who could be classified as a "crazy person". He's kind of hunched over and wearing HUGE thick black rimmed glasses...and he's the only person who is above the age of 5 who isn't chaperoning someone under the age of 5. You might think that the outrageous thing I overheard came from him. But wait. The man starts talking to one of the young volunteers there, who seemed to be about thirteen years old. He asks if he can see some creature called "Whip". As I watch this girl take down the little plastic terrarium that "Whip" lives in, I start wondering what "Whip" is. I figured it was a lizard, until the girl reaches in and starts beckoning to a terrifying looking insect with eight long legs and a HUGE abdomen that looks like a bird's egg. My skin was crawling. Apparently, so was the "crazy" man's because he made a comment expressing so. Then the girl says "Aww, don't worry, he's really a sweetie once you get to know him". About a creepy scorpion! Within 5 minutes, she also called the giant Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches "sweeties" too. Yuck.

The next one happened when I was at the playground with K and T. We were sitting in one corner of the playground, when the local daycare brought all their kids over to play. My favorite part of this (aside from all the cute stumbling babies) is the daycare workers, who just fascinate me with their conversation. The other day one of the women was going inside the rec center to get drinks for she and her co-worker. They were scrounging up change when they suddenly stopped, fascinated by one of the coins. The following is the dialogue I heard:

One woman: "Wow! Look at this quarter!"
Other woman: "What is that on it?"
Both women simultaneously: "Eee...Eee Pluriboos...Eee Pluriboos Ewnum"
One woman: "What are we celebrating the Spanish now? These new quarters are crazy!"

I just stood there, probably with my mouth hanging open, staring at these women in disbelief, searching around me desperately for someone who had heard this and was as shocked as I was. But all I saw were little, smiling, stumbling babies running around and screeching. Ignorance is bliss.

The Innocent Ones

Although I prefer it to sitting in an office all day, spending fifty hours a week with six kids ages 3 and under, and occasionally their parents is not always easy. As I have stated in earlier posts, three year olds are especially difficult to relate to. They are easily frustrated and at times seem bipolar in how fast their moods change from one extreme to another.

Sometimes I look at these kids though--these kids I have gotten to know so well. I look at their little bodies and I want to freeze them in time. I want to keep them where they are: where the most emotional pain they feel is when their brother takes the ball they were using, or when they can't have the snack they want. They all have their families intact--mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters are alive and healthy. They aren't having identity issues, they aren't worried about their hair or their weight and hey aren't having their hearts broken by people they love. Their little worlds are nearly perfect, and they are completely unaware of anything happening outside of their homes.

I know that they can't go through life avoiding all pain or hardship. They'll have to face scarier things than the darkness of their room at night and more tragic things than the tower they built falling down. I just wish there was some way I could tell them to appreciate this time. Or a way I could prevent them from having to deal with anything that would hurt them. I guess that is life though, and that's how we become the people we are. For now, I will enjoy that innocence for them. I hope that some day, at least one of them will have a reflective experience similar to mine, that allows them to experience this gratitude I feel knowing that I too had that time of innocence.

breakthroughs

I have made a couple breakthroughs with the kids I spend every day with in the past couple of weeks. As I have said before, L, and I don't always see eye to eye on everything. We butt heads a lot, and don't always "get along", one could say. His younger brother, A, is always wanting to snuggle with me, but L usually keeps his distance. The other day though, when he woke up from his nap, he walked over to me and held up his arms for me to pick him up. When I did he put his head on my shoulder, tucked his arms under mine, and just laid there for a while. It was so sweet. Then he started grinding his teeth and I had to put him down. None the less, I considered it a breakthrough.

C, who is another very challenging 3 year old, very seldom laughs. The only time I've really seen him laugh is when he knows he's doing something "naughty" in his words, and is laughing to make sure I am aware that he's doing something wrong. There are things I do with C, that I don't do with some of the other kids, because without other siblings/kids around that are within his age range, he is seldom told "no" and doesn't ever have to share things. Examples of this are not letting him draw on my page when we are coloring, or not letting him use a block I have for a period of time until I'm done...even though I don't really care that much about my crayon picture or tower I'm building. I figure this teaches him that he needs to respect peoples' space and that he doesn't have authoritative power over everything he sees. Maybe it just makes me feel better. Anyway, I was having a difficult day with C, where he was bossing me around, telling me to pick something up after he dropped it, etc, etc. We went outside to play soccer, and since I was feeling slightly annoyed with him, when he went to pick his soccer ball up I moved it a little to the left with my foot. I wondered what his reaction would be, and to my great surprise he laughed! I did it again and he laughed even more! C thought this was the funniest thing he'd ever seen! We actually had a lot of fun together for the next half hour or so, playing this game of keep away (of course I let him get it every 3rd or 4th time). I can't say that there have been many times I've had fun wtih C, so I think this definitely qualifies as another breakthrough.

On another note, I was just watching A play with his dog, who he loves and is driven crazy by in almost equal parts. His head is right at the level of the dog's head, so he is often being followed by her with her tongue on his face, licking of remnants of lunch, or in some cases, snot. Today though, he was actually standing face to face with her, opening his mouth and letting her lick inside it for as long as he could stand before he cracked up, presumably because it tickled so much. It was hilarious and disgusting. Hilariously disgusting.

Melt Down

For some reason I was dreading the start of this week with C, and my psychic capabilities must have been on key because today C had meltdowns about EVERYTHING. The day started off normally, with him being happy I had come, and then showing me everything in the apartment he is not supposed to touch.

The first tantrum was about wanting a circle to be a square. He kept asking me to make his train tracks loop back a certain way to connect to the ones we had already built. When I started using the curved pieces to do this, he started ripping them out and screaming/crying/drooling--generally freaking out. I asked him what was wrong and he said he wanted it to be a square. I told him that if he wanted it to loop back, it had to be a circle, that a square wasn't going to work in the space we had. Tantrums ensued for the next twenty minutes.

The next tantrum he had was about wanting a white crayon to write on white paper. It was the only crayon, out of the 24 possible, that he wanted to use. And he wanted it to write on the white paper. Another 10 minute of crying.

The final (major) tantrum in the four hours I was with C this morning, was when we were halfway to the Franklin Institute, which is about a half mile from his house, and he decided he wanted to wear a different coat. He cried almost the entire way to the museum, because he wanted to change coats. Luckily, as I have said in a previous post, when he cries, he generally walks faster. I've become pretty good at blocking out the noise, though I still notice the stares I get as people walk by.

C had one more tantrum about wanting to go into his apartment building via another door, but it didn't last very long. He was probably just too exhausted from the all the "tantrumming" he had done earlier.

What a morning.

I Want to Hold Your Hand

I wish my day had been filled with this lovely Beatles song instead of the following meltdowns. When I say meltdowns, I mean the serious kind, that last much longer than you expect--so long the kids usually don't remember what they're crying about anymore, and produce huge tears, and lots of snot.

This morning, C and I were going to go to the library. He seemed perfectly excited about it, and we have gone many times together. His mom walked out the door with us because she was going to the grocery store, and a few steps after she parted ways with us, C started screaming and crying that he wanted to hold his mom's hand. I told him we just had to walk two blocks to the library and drop off some books, and get new ones, and then we could go back to the house and hold mommy's hand. He continued to scream all the way to the library, two city blocks, and then for about 10 minutes outside of the library because I told him we couldn't go in until he could stop crying. The interesting part was, the whole time we were walking, he was keeping up with me, which is usually not the case. I guess because he was so upset he didn't have time to be distracted by other things on our walk, and it was actually pretty nice for me (despite the screaming I had to listen to).

This afternoon I was watching L and A, and L wanted to go outside. It's been kind of rainy and cold all day, so I didn't really want to stand outside while they played, but I told him we could go out for a little bit with the hopes it would tire him out and he'd take a long nap. L wanted to get in his little plastic car, and wanted his brother to as well, but A wasn't interested. This is when the meltdown began. Then, finally, A got in his little car (maybe he's conditioned to do what L wants so that he doesn't have to listen to screaming) and then L continued to scream, saying he wanted to hold A's hand. I told L he could ride his car over to A and hold his hand, but he just started screaming louder and crying. I asked him what was wrong, and to use his words, and he just kept saying he wanted to hold A's hand and reaching his hand out of the car, but not moving the car with his feet. Finally, I told L we had to go inside if he couldn't use his words and be nice, to which he of course screamed at me more and refused to go in. I took A inside and watched L from the window, sitting in the driveway screaming and crying. Every time I opened the door to ask if he wanted to come in with us, he just screamed at me at the top of his lungs. Finally I brought him inside where he cried on the floor until I brought him to his room for a (much needed) nap.

In sum, I hope everyone is able to hold the hand of the person they'd like to today, and if not, then I wish them the strength to endure the time they are unable to.

Crust

In my days with six kids ages 3 and under, I come across a lot of crust--in many forms. What I am referring to in this post though, is the crust on bread. Some kids don't like to eat it, which I have never understood. Is it because it is a different color? A different texture? On most of the white bread or soft wheat bread I've seen kids eat, the crust really doesn't feel much different than the rest of the bread. Anyway, some kids won't go near it, like L for example, who leaves about an inch of bread before he gets to the crust, which means he really doesn't get much of the sandwich, and is consequently always still hungry. I usually give L's crust (and inch of sandwich attached) to his little brother, who happily eats the whole thing.

C, on the other hand, eats his crust first. It's his favorite part. I've never seen a kid love the crust of bread so much, but for all his strange qualities, this is one I love about him.

I have found a solution to the avoidance of ultimate crust piece of bread, the heel, which even many adults I know refuse to eat. When I make the kids sandwiches, I turn the heel piece upside down, so that the white side is up. That way they don't know it's the heel, and there is the added bonus of being no crust on the other side, so they can eat the whole thing! Sarah 1, Crust 0.

Vomit Aversion

Yesterday I was babysitting L&A, and their mom had informed me that L had a fever all day, but seemed fine and didn't have any other symptoms. I got to their house and he seemed happy and talkative. After their mom left, he dressed himself in his boots, hat, winter jacket, and mittens and told me he wanted to go outside. I bundled up A, and took them out. A is just starting to walk consistently and was not a fan of the snow. When I put him in it, he stood in one place and just said "help" over and over again until I took him out. L, on the other hand, loved it. He rode his tricycle through it, played on his little playground, and when I told him it was time to go inside, he protested.

After snow-time, the kids both slept for about 2 hours. When they woke up and I went upstairs to get them, I got the baby first, and went into L's room. He still looked extremely tired, and his cheeks were very flushed, but I asked him if he wanted to go get a snack downstairs and he said yes. When he walked into the hallway, he started holding his throat and whimpering. Then he started gagging and making those gross croaky, gurgly noises you make when you're about to throw up. So I picked him up and ran into the bathroom and held him over the bathtub. I commended myself on being so brave, because I really truly hate vomit. I don't like the noises, I don't like the feeling, and I definitely don't like the smell. My aversion to vomit is so bad that if someone tells me they've been sick and they're on the phone with me in a completely different part of the country, I start to feel nauseous. It might be considered a disorder.

So, L continued to make the gross noises and was crying, so I was pretty positive he was going to throw up, but he never did. I set him down on the floor, with the upper half of his body still crouched over the bathtub. Only when I put him down did I realize that I was shaking, and that my body temperature had risen considerably. I was having an actual bodily reaction to the POSSIBILITY of this three year old throwing up. So, I may have commended myself a little too early--I truly am a wimp when it comes to vomit. How will I ever have children?

Life With Six Kids Ages Three and Under

Now that I've introduced the kids I spend 40-50 hours a week with, I think I will start writing about what it's like to hang out with them all day. I'm going to refer to them by the initial of their first name, so that their names aren't repeated over and over on the internet, in association with my name. For privacy's sake--as much as you can have when posting publicly on the internet.

I've decided that three year olds, or maybe three year old boys specifically, are just weird. Weird doesn't necessarily have to mean bad, but they are strange little beings. They are entering a stage in their life when they are no longer babies, especially if they have younger siblings. They are encouraged to do things for themselves more, much to their dismay. They are taught and encouraged to use the toilet instead of the more convenient (and much preferred, in my experience) method of just going in their pants. They are told that crying and screaming doesn't get them what they want, although only a year or so back, it did. In sum, being three (or 2 and a half) is not as easy as you might think.

Three year olds are also trying to communicate more and are always learning new words and phrases that they attempt to incorporate into daily conversation. This can be pretty funny at times. I was in K's room with him the other day and there was a photo on his bookshelf of a man who looked like his uncle. I asked him if that was his uncle in the picture and confirmed that it was. I said, "What is your uncle's name?" to which he replied, "I don't rightly know!" His response cracked me up, and made me wonder where he had picked up the speech of a middle aged British man.

My Boys

After much job searching, trying to find a "real job", I settled for the next best thing, which is really THE best thing in my mind--nannying. I spend my week, Monday through Friday (and occasional weekends) with kids from three different families. I want to introduce them.

Kailas. Named after the tallest mountain in the Himalayas "Kailash", commonly known as K2. Kailas will be 3 in March and is one of the most interesting kids I have ever come to know--in a good way. He's extremely smart and well spoken for his age. He's 99% fully potty trained, which I have also come to realize is rare. He loves learning words in other languages and has an incredible memory for words and people and events. When I read books, Kailas likes to point at the faces of characters and ask me what the face means-whether it's happy or sad or angry, etc. His favorite foods are cereal bars and hummus (not together). He's a sweet, generally well-behaved boy who is constantly searching for new things to learn.

Talin. I can't remember the origin of his name, but it has something to do with India or Hinduism. Talin is Kailas' little brother and the second son of a woman who is of Indian decent and wants to preserve that culture in her boys. Talin will be a year old in May, which makes him about 8 months old right now. In the time that I have been watching him, he has learned to sit up and to crawl. He is a very mellow baby, and rarely cries. Things that make him smile are hearing his name, seeing himself in the mirror, being tickled, and watching his older brother do just about anything. His favorite foods are (pureed) tomatoes and carrots and apples--together or seperate.

Luca. Luca is three years old and is someone I did not instantly click with. He's fairly hard to understand when he talks, and often answers questions the opposite way of what he actually wants. Example: "Luca, do you want cereal?" "No." Then he cries because he doesn't have cereal. He's always very excited when I walk in the door and often cheers "Sawah!" as I enter. He loves his firetruck puzzle and he loves to sing and "play" guitar. His favorite foods are peanut butter and jelly and honeycomb cereal. He also loves chocolate milk. He's being potty trained, and in the past week or so has really come a long way. He needs a very long time to adjust after he's woken up from his afternoon nap, but is generally happy after he's had a snack. I think we're starting to understand each other more as time goes on.

Auden. Luca's little brother who is 16 months old. Auden is the fastest crawler I have ever seen. He's taken his first steps while I've been babysitting him, and will walk for you if you make it a game, but otherwise sees no need for walking. He is the sweetest one year old I have ever met. The only time I have ever heard him cry is when I put him in his crib if I run to the bathroom, and he stops after about 10 seconds and plays happily until I come get him. He smiles when he goes down for a nap, he smiles when he wakes up. He gets a confused look on his face when his brother hits him, but then smiles again pretty quickly after that. He loves to cuddle, especially after his naps. He says "yuh" a lot, especially in response to the question "do you want some honeycomb?", which is definitely his favorite food. He does what I call "the honeycomb dance" whenever there is the actual cereal or just the box, in his sight.

Clyde. Clyde will be three in February and LOVES trucks. He can name more trucks than I have ever heard of. He talks really fast and repeats things over and over until you acknowledge what he has sad. He loves Richard Scary books. He can walk for literally miles and never rides in a stroller. Clyde can focus on one task for very long periods of time. I've seen him play in a miniature sand box, or with his trucks in his room for hours at a time. He has a very advances palette for a 3 year old--I've seen him eat things like pesto and goat cheese and arugula. He's an interesting kid and is about to have his entire life changed by....

Ada! The one girl that I am now a babysitter for. She was born on Saturday, and is Clyde's little SISTER! I know nothing about her and will meet her later this week. I can't wait.

Ray

Ray, a great guy and amazing asset to the Bryn Mawr Athletics Program, passed away last Friday. I went to two memorial services today for Ray, and learned a lot about him that I didn't know. From his physical appearance, I assumed he was an athlete at some point in his life. He was extremely tall and muscular, at least 6'3 and 250 pounds. During high school he was the star of both the baseball and basketball teams, and was offered a contract with the Chicago Cubs as well as a full scholarship to Temple University for basketball. He ultimately chose basketball at Temple, which is lucky for Bryn Mawr, because he probably wouldn't have ended up there had he gone to Chicago. Ray was a giant compared to most people on Bryn Mawr's campus, but he was a gentle giant. He was soft-spoken and always had something encouraging to say. He never missed a home event at Bryn Mawr. He was always there, standing stoically on the sidelines of every soccer game I played. I always saw him on the field, checking things out as I walked to the gym an hour and a half before games started. His greeting to every person he saw was "Hey, Bud."

One of the two services today was a Quaker Meeting style memorial service, where people stood up and told their stories of Ray. One girl talked about how much she didn't like being at Bryn Mawr because she was homesick all the time. She talked about how eventually, through playing field hockey, and lifting weights under the guidance of Ray in the off season, the gym became the place where she felt most at home on the Bryn Mawr campus. It wasn't the dorms or her major department. It was the gym, with Ray and all the coaches. I never thought about it before, but that is exactly how I felt at Bryn Mawr, and how I still feel. I've walked into the gym a handful of times since graduating, and I always feel at ease there. I know I'll see familiar friendly faces, and I know I will really miss Ray's being one of them.

Ray dedicated the later part of his life to making people, especially women at Bryn Mawr, physically stronger. He pushed our bodies to the limits, but not beyond what he knew we could do. He cared so immensely about each person in that gym or on those fields, that it's almost hard to believe. He had to undergo a double knee replacement a couple of months ago, and complications from that kept him without the use of his legs for longer than he or anyone else expected. The complications meant was no longer able to do the one thing he seemingly loved most in life, which was being a part of Bryn Mawr Athletics. Unfortunately, this frustration turned into depression, which ultimately led Ray to decide life wasn't worth living anymore.

I wish Ray could have known how much he meant to all of us. I wish there was something we could have done, an extra step we could have taken. I will always remember him as that big friendly giant in the gym and on the soccer field, with a huge smile and a "Hey Bud!". He will hold a place in all hearts who had the honor of knowing him.

Strange Happenings

So the other day I was walking down the street to a beer store (yes, in Pennsylvania you can only buy beer at designated stores). This store is only two blocks from my apartment, but I saw two significantly strange things on my walk.

The first was a tiny little snake wriggling down the sidewalk. It couldn't have been more than a couple inches long, and at first I thought it was a garter snake, but I am pretty sure those are black. I might be wrong. This snake was tan or light yellow (it was pretty dark outside). I tried to guide it to the side of the sidewalk where there was grass in hopes that it wouldn't get stepped on, but I don't know if it made it. Hopefully he/she is out there somewhere, and doesn't grow much bigger.

The second thing I saw was a trolley hit a car. I was standing on the corner, waiting for Jess to pick me up on her way back from work so we could go to a friend's house, when I heard a loud bang/crunch. I looked over and the trolley was stopped, and as I crossed the street to the other side, I realized there was a car smashed up against the trolley. I guess the car was pulling out of a spot on the side of the street and the trolley crashed into it. I am not sure whose fault it was, but neither vehicle could have been going more than 10 miles per hour. The driver's door though, was completely stuck closed though, because it was up against the side of the trolley. No one was seriously injured. I felt bad for everyone riding on the trolley though because they all had to get off, and no other trolley was going to be coming anytime soon because the tracks were now blocked off with this accident. Bummer.

That is all I have to report from the block at 48th and Chester. More to come.

the commercial lies

You may remember a commercial, probably for visa, where everyone is in a cafeteria line and there's music playing in rhythm with each customer paying for their meal with their debit card. Then one person pulls out cash and the music comes to a screeching halt, and the person is bascially shunned because they ruined the fast paced rhythm of the check-out line.

I think of this commercial all the time when I am working at the cafe because it is actually the exact opposite. When I have a line out the door and am working at the register, I hate to see someone pull our their credit card. This means sliding the card, waiting for the receipts to print, giving them the receipt to sign, waiting for them to decide if they're going to tip me or not, signing it, them handing it back and waiting for the register to finalize the transaction. All this in the time I could have had 3 customers pay with cash and move on. Also if the card is old and the machine won't read the strip, I have to type in the card number manually.

So. If you have the cash, I say use it. Don't be fooled by that commercial. It's for people who want to make themselves feel better for holding up lines with their credit cards.

The little visitor

Today at work I was in the middle of a transaction at the cash register and I thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye. I looked to my left, and scurrying across the floor was a tiny brown mouse. I was holing the money the woman getting coffee across the register from me had just given me but in the midst of trying not to freak out about the mouse, I totally lost concentration of what I was doing. I used all the focus I had to get her the right change and have her leave the counter. When my flamboyantly gay (and awesome) shift leader came back from wherever he was I let him know about our little visitor. He said he would call the owner and let him know.

A few minutes later we were helping more customers when I hear my shift leader say "Oh my god" under his breath. I looked over and the mouse was right at the edge of where behind the counter becomes the public seating area...just teetering on the edge of remaining a secret and becoming a public health code violation. I tried to keep a straight face as we worked through the line of customers. Then the little guy crawled under the refrigerated case where we keep soda, juice, water etc. Another girl who was working took the top of a plastic "clamshell" salad to-go container to try and trap the mouse when he came out from his hiding spot and I got the broom and dustpan in case he came my way. Needless to say, he really liked that spot and stayed there for a while.

Later in the night, my shift leader and I were standing at the espresso/sandwich end of the bar (farthest away from the soda/water/juice cooler) and the mouse came crawling back towards us, distracted by all the little bits of food on the ground. My shift leader and I both froze, knowing we had to trap him (or her) but not knowing how. I said "quick! give me something to put over it!" and the first thing he handed me was a big metal salad-tossing bowl, which i promptly covered the mouse with. My shift leader then ran to the back and got a much-too-large-for-a-mouse sized box. We slid the box under the bowl until the little mouse's tail was sticking out from the bowl, which was mostly in the box. then I pulled out the bowl with salad-tossing tongs and closed the box, and carried it outside to the dumpter. I could feel him scurrying around inside the box as I carried it, but then when I put it in the dumpster and opened it, he just sat there in the corner of the box. He was so tiny (smaller than a golf ball) and his heart was beating so fast, he must have been terrified. I left him in the box (hoping he'd find some good stuff to eat in the dumpster), and bid him farewell.

Mouse problem solved. For now.


Another highlight of the day included a man coming in as we were closing and asking for a scone. We told him we were closed, and he said, "I really need it, It's my birthday you can keep the change," and handed us ten dollars and walked out the door. My shift leader gave himself and me $5 each and let him have the scone "for free".

In other, more serious news, someone at the store got their purse stolen tonight. It's the third time it's happened there since I started working and the 5th time it's happened in the last month or so. Apparently it's some woman who comes in and just looks around or sits down for a while and then walks out and grabs things on the way. No good at all.

That's all for my adventures in coffee-land today. Mr (or Ms.) mouse definitely stole the show!

It's always (almost never) sunny in Philadelphia!

So I recently moved to Philadelphia, into a one bedroom apartment with my girlfriend. We live on a quiet street in West Philly in an old Victorian that has been converted into apartments. I was starting to feel pretty hopeless about getting a job, and then all of the sudden, I landed two in one day. I am working at a cafe in Rittenhouse Sq. during the morning/early afternoon and then rushing off to Drexel Hill to coach soccer at a Catholic School there. During the end of September and the month of October I am mostly working twelve-hour days between the two jobs, but so far both are going well. I am the head coach of the "jjv" team which consists of 3rd and 4th graders-mostly boys. I am the assistant/goalie coach for jv (5th and 6th grade) and varsity (7th and 8th grade). I am also volunteer-coaching a 7 and 8 year old soccer team on Saturday mornings at Clark Park, near my apartment.

I wanted to start keeping a blog again because I see and hear so many funny and interesting things every day. Here are some from the past week or two that have been memorable.

1) I was sitting on the trolley home from work when a very young looking girl got on with her infant daughter. The baby was sleeping, so she draped her over her knees and opened up a binder on the babies back to do some studying. I looked over her shoulder and the reading material was on emergency contraception.

2) On my first day of coaching Clark Park soccer (7 and 8 year olds) we were scrimmaging at the end of practice. I had a little boy named Dayvon playing defense. I said "Dayvon, are you excited" and he said "yes." I said "I think our team is gonna win, I can feel it!" He paused for a second and said "I can feel it too." Then he paused for another minute and looked up at me and said "Ya'll got bats?" I said "no...do you mean like baseball bats?" to which he replied a simple and innocent "yeah". I said "You want to use a baseball bat to play defense?", and he looked up at me and said "yeah" like it was the most casual thing in the world. I tried not to laugh as a explained to him that we can't use bats in soccer.

3) I was on the trolley home and had waited 45 minutes to get on this particular car because there was some breakdown that prevented any trolleys from coming for a long time. The car was PACKED and I was cranky because I was going to have to rush to soccer practice, and I had planned on using the spare half hour I thought I'd have to plan practice. As we pulled into one of the stations, there was a group of kids who looked like they were coming back from a field trip. I recognized one of them as Lilly, a girl from the Clark Park team I coach. I figured she wouldn't recognize me on a crowded trolly, out of the context of soccer, and after only one practice, but hey eyes lit up and she started frantically waving. I saw her say to the person next to her "That's my soccer coach!" Then she turned to me and made sure to enunciate "Hi Sarah!!", all while keeping her hand waving at me wildly. It was so cute, and made the whole wait for the trolley completely worth it.

More to come from my adventures in Philadelphia...

Mississippi!

So Mississippi isn’t anything I expected. My team is living in two houses on the Noxubee National Wildlife Refuge in Brooksville, MS. When we first walked into what is the girls’ “bunk house” we couldn’t believe it. This is by far, the best project housing any of us have had, and is probably as close to the polar opposite of sharing a hotel room with 3 other people (first project), that we could get. We’re living in a spacious two-bedroom house with large bathrooms, closets, and counter space. We have a free washer and dryer in our house. We also have a large porch with a hammock and we are a 50-yard walk to the lake. The only downside is not having internet and having to drive 30 minutes to town to get it, but I’ll sacrifice that for two months of this.
We are right in the middle of the woods, and there are tons of animals everywhere. On our first day here we saw a bald eagle, a box turtle, a cotton mouth snake, a glass lizard (legless lizard), deer, tons of birds, two very large alligators, and lots and lots of bugs. Between the eight of us, we’ve probably pulled 30 ticks off of us in two days of work so far. I also had the pleasure of getting bitten by 10 or so fire ants today, which is a lot more painful than I expected it to be.
The first day of work (Friday) we were doing boundary marking, so we were scraping and painting yellow strips on trees every tenth of a mile along the boundary of the refuge. After Friday we had a three-day weekend during which we spent a lot of time hiking and canoeing as well as catching up on tv and movie watching. I also started and finished the book “A Walk in the Woods” by Bill Bryson, which was excellent and made me want to hike the Appalachian Trail.
Tuesday we were removing pine trees from a field, which took the seven of us (Avery is at home for a couple days) from 8:30 am to 4:30 pm. We cut the trees down with bow saws and loppers, but the brush was so thick (mostly with pricker bushes) that it was really hard to move around. We would walk from one end of the field to the other in rows, and the brush was so thick and the trees were so tall, we couldn’t tell how close we were to either end. It was always a surprise to come out to the light on the other side. There was also anywhere from an inch to 5 inches of water on the ground which made it extremely hard to move in some places. In the morning it was very hot and humid. After lunch though, it rained which we all thought was great until it stopped and our clothes weighed twice as much and there was even more water on the ground. The second day of doing the same job was pretty similar, except it was hotter, more humid and more pine trees. I also got my boots stuck in the mud as I was walking and fell flat on my stomach in the mud. After lunch, we were down to 6 people because Eddie had been stung by bees and is allergic. People started getting really nauseous and head-achey so Mike decided to end the day early and let people (Joe looked like he was in especially bad shape) rest. They were extremely exhausting days and I am covered in scratches and fire ant bites all over my arms and legs, but it felt satisfying to be that tired at the end of the day.
I think this is going to be a good project for our last one in Americorps. We’re in a beautiful place and we have really great supervisors. I am ready to be done and close to the people I love again, but I’m glad I get to do something like this before I go.

Good ol' southern sexism

I love it down here. I love our project, I love the weather, I love the food. One thing that I can't seem to get used to is the sexism. I am constantly hearing our supervisors ask for some guys to come over and move this or that. "I'm gonna need...Mike, Joe, and David to move that scaffolding over there." What? I admit that many some may have more upper body strength than some women, but there isn't anything on this job site that I can't lift with a minimum of one other person. I've stood on the worksite and listened to supervisors and other older male volunteers talk about being married to women and how much it sucks and how
"all a woman is good for is...". I've heard them make sexual jokes about women. I've heard one supervisor (Tony) who constantly talks about how he raised 6 daughters, talk about how he brings his 11 year old twins out when he drinks, because they are "chick magnets". One day at lunch after we spent the morning hammering in a subfloor, we had lunch delivered by Olive Garden and one of the older men said "which one of you women cooked this up". A few of the women on our team were offended by this, and were talking about it later. The two guys on our team said "Well, it is a compliment, it was good food!". Grrrrr.

Today Tony was sending Erin and Anna to the warehouse to move some things and he called over to another supervisor and said "you don't have anything too heavy over there right? for these girls?" I actually thought he was being sarcastic, but he wasn't. Luckily, Erin spoke up and said "what is that supposed to mean?" Tony got all defensive and said he just meant that sometimes there were things that girls couldn't lift. Erin informed him that she could lift anything a guy could lift. He said "don't take it personally", and she responded with "well I am taking it personally", which is exactly what I was thinking in my head. Then she told him he shouldn't generalize like that, to which he responded that he wasn't generalizing, blah blah blah. So basically, Erin is my hero of the day, and I can't wait til I am back in a place where women are capable human beings and not just blobs that cook and clean and pop out babies. I thought about what would happen if the women on our team went on strike for a day, leaving a team of three guys to do all the work. It would be interesting to see how much got done then.

shim shimminy

This past weekend the team went to New Orleans because Anna had to fly out Saturday afternoon to North Dakota, and Joe flew out Sunday morning. Erin had some points of some kind and was able to get a free room at the Sheraton, so we split the cost of another room and stayed there, which was pretty nice. The only thing that wasn't nice, was almost getting trapped in an elevator that would go up a few inches, then slam...then go up a few inches, then slam. So when we finally got the doors open we had to step down about 6 inches to the floor. I was very close to living one of my worst fears...being stuck in a small elevator with 9 other people. We spent Saturday walking around the French quarter, the French Market, and Frenchman street....all things French. We went to dinner on Frenchman, met up with some other Americorps people who are working in New Orleans, and went up to Bourbon street, where we drank a lot of alcohol and ran around collecting beads and doing other crazy things. On Sunday we spent the morning in Audobon (sp?) park eating a picnic breakfast and listening to the extremely loud and annoying songs blaring from the "celebration of the young child" festival happening there...songs about how safety is fun and so is cleaning. Yeah! After that we explored Magazine Street, then called it a day. When we got back from New Orleans, we saw one of our windows was off the frame, and thought someone had broken in. We ran in to check if our laptops were there, and everything was accounted for. I noticed also that the freezer door was open, which I thought was weird, but thought maybe one of us hadn't closed it all the way when we left. Later that evening, one of the girls in the neighborhood told us that some kids had broken into our house and stolen lollipops and eaten all of our ice cream. The lollipops and most of the ice cream were indeed gone, which accounts for the freezer being open. This is the second time we've been broken into; the time before this a kid was steeling granola bars. Weird.

On Monday, Erin and I went with Lyh, one of the Habitat Americorps guys, to Galliano to work on a house there. Lyh's dad is in town, who is a very cute older Chinese man with a great sense of humor, so he came along too. We spent the day installing cabinets in the kitchen and bathroom. To install a cabinet, you first have to center it wherever it's going, then put shims under it until it's level, then cut out holes in the back for any piping that needs to go through it (if it's a sink cabinet), then screw it in. Whenever we were putting shims under the cabinets, Erin and I couldn't stop ourselves from singing "shim shimminy shim shimminy shim shim sharoo". On the way home from Galliano, I saw an alligator! I couldn't believe it. It was one of my goals for this project : ) We got home around 4:30 and played basketball 3v3 for PT. Then I made dinner, we ate it, and now here I am!

That's all I've got for now. More adventures on the bayou to come...