Archive for the ‘Growing Up’ Category

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So your feelings would be happy

November 20, 2010

Besh has always been a sweet boy, so almost every time he and I go to Costco we end up at the flower section so he can pick out a bunch of flowers for Mommy.  (Every once in a while the bouquet is for Nonni, but 99% it’s Mommy.)  He always insists on carrying the flowers in an presenting them, but the other day was the first time he also had a little speech presented.

Besh: “Mommy, I picked out these flowers for you so that your feelings would be happy.  Are they happy?”

Rest assured, they were.

But on the flip side, Besh has hard a hard time transitioning back to school.  Nothing huge or even unexpected–being out of school for so long and then unable to do all his normal activites even when he returned for a bit definitely will take some time to get over.  But yesterday was the first time he expressed his feelings over the glasses.

“I feel different with my glasses on.  I don’t feel like Besher anymore.”

He told Mommy this earlier in the day, then told us both at dinner.  He’s still getting used to everything, and I think in a few weeks when he gets an actual prescription in the glasses so they help him see (rather than just protect the eye post-surgery) he’ll start to feel differently.

Still, we wish we could give him flowers to make his feelings happy.

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Besh on getting old

November 8, 2010

A quick chat tonight between Mommy and Besh.

Mommy (sadly): “You know, it’s going to be my birthday soon.”

Besh: “Why do you say it like that?”

“Well, the older you get, the less you want to get old.”

“Are you going to be as old as Daddy?”

“Yeah, I am.”

“Are you going to have scratchy cheeks like him?”

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Things we learned about eye surgery

October 12, 2010

Besher’s cataract and strabismus surgery was today and we learned some very valuable lessons.

  1. When one eye drifts (strabismus) to a degree that surgery will help, that surgery actually takes place on both eyes.  This is a good thing to know when you were only expecting surgery on one eye, then as they’re about to deliver the early goofy juice they mention how surgery will be on both eyes.  Which is fine so long as you know in advance and not a few minutes before.
  2. The nerves that form the visual center are shockingly close to the nerves that form the vomit center.  I don’t want to get all technical, but let’s just say that eye surgery plus anesthesia can equal a vomit party upon waking.
  3. Unless you have spider-sense, lightning fast reflexes, and/or a recovery area with enough room to actually flee the Vomit Radius, it is highly encouraged for parents to bring multiple pairs of pants and shoes if their child is having surgery out of town.
  4. It is amazing how much love and support a family can feel from text messages, emails, comments and just clicking Like on a Facebook post.  We honestly can never thank you all enough.
  5. All the worry, stress, travel, pain, and did I mention worry, is worth it when your son is resting on the couch after the surgery and says, “Daddy, I’m glad I got my cataract out.”
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Besher’s upcoming surgery

September 17, 2010

Besh was born with a cataract in one eye. We found out when he was about 2 and his eye started to wander. Since his body wasn’t using it as much (the cataract is right in the middle of the visual field) then the eye was starting to lose functionality, muscle control, etc.

Not good.

So the local doctor, billed as the best option for children’s eye stuff in Austin, told us to keep checking it and to start patching his good eye an hour a day. That way we could try and train his brain to keep using the bad eye until his eye fully forms (around 10) and then we could do a surgery and be done. Still scary, but a viable option. That is unless the cataract starts to grow, because if the eye loses more functionality just patching won’t work and you can do enough damage that it can’t recover later.

So the last check-up with local doctor, he mentions the cataract may be growing. But doesn’t follow up on it. Sara does, starts asking questions, the doctor gets weird (well, weirdER. He’s already weird. Really, really weird.). Sara brings up options that the doctor had first mentioned 2 years ago and the doctor points out how good her memory is. He’s probably annoyed. Right back at him.

Ultimately we get a recommendation from some friends on both coasts who are eye doctors to take Besh up to Dallas for some nationally recognized experts in pediatric cataracts. That happened yesterday. Yup, the cataract is growing. Oh, and patching an hour a day won’t do diddly. He should have been patching 2-4 hours a day. So they’re recommending surgery. The somewhat good news is that they’ll be putting in a new lens that will target his fully grown eye. Meaning for many years it will be purposefully far-sighted (which we’ll correct with glasses) but the hope is that it hits right on target when the eye is fully formed. May need another surgery later, but we’ll hope not.

And for the last two years we thought his bad eye was at least staying the same, holding at 20/30 vision. Not true. His vision is actually 20/50 in that eye, probably getting worse. What happened was that Besh memorized the eye chart the first time he saw it and just repeated back the symbols, leading the Austin doctor to think he had better vision. In Dallas, they use a computer that displays random images and gets an accurate result. Which also led to some humor when a picture of a Christmas tree came up and Besh didn’t know what it was. Sara had to explain to the tech that we were Jewish–when Besh looked at it with his good eye he said, “I don’t know…a zipper?”

So now we’re looking at a surger in October. Travel up to Dallas, pre-op on Day 1, surgery on Day 2, follow-up on Day 3. Even though he’s under general for 2 hours, it’s an out-patient operation. So we don’t have to deal with a hospital stay, but do have to deal with everything else, including the fun of a surgery under general anesthetic, the pain from correcting the muscles, yadda yadda.

I know this pales in comparison to other issues in general, even some of the ones other personal friends deal with every day. Still sucks. Still scary.

We told Besh yesterday. He probably knew something was up with the trip to Dallas to visit the doctor earlier in the week anyway. But we told him that the doctor was going to do an operation to fix his eye. The look on his face was both heart-melting joy at repairing the eye and heart-breaking to see how much it meant to him. He was on a bit of an emotional roller coaster after that, worried about it itching (if only that were the physical discomfort!), etc.

The one bright note is that he is absolutely THRILLED about getting eyeglasses after the operation. Over the moon. Insists on getting Clark Kent glasses, which I’m sure we’ll do. So we’ll focus on eyeglasses and a non-fuzzy eye and hope all the rest passes quickly.

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Why I won’t be hiring Besh as a game designer just yet

August 23, 2010

Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t be happier that he’s making up games. But given that his first game appears to be “Mommy Wins!” I’m just not his target audience.

Last night after dinner, Besh walked over to his chalkboard, picked up a piece of chalk and started doodling on the board.

Besh: “Daddy, can you guess what this is?”

Me: “It’s a drawing. With chalk. Green chalk.”

“No. For real.”

“Oh, for real. Well, it’s a drawing of Greece. No, Italy.”

“No, you’re wrong. You’re out of the game. Mommy?”

Mommy: “That’s a drawing of a man riding a horse.” (It was probably something else, but it didn’t really matter)

Besh: “That’s right, you’re the winner Mommy!”

While I protested, because it really looked more like Italy, Besh erased the board and drew something else.

Besh: “Okay, Daddy, pick a number and a color.”

Me: “The number is four and the color is red.”

Besh: “No, you’re wrong. You’re out of the game. Sorry. Mommy?”

Mommy: “3,487.560,394.3″ (Yes, it started in the billions and went to one decimal place.) “And the color is blue.”

“That’s right, Mommy! You’re the winner!”

I protested again. This game is hard. Besh agreed to give me one more chance. Again I had to pick a number and color.

I did a number that started in the trillions and went to three decimal places. And picked blue.

Besh: “Nope. Sorry.”

“WHAT?! Then what was the number?”

“Twenty-four thousand fifteen hundred.”

At least I got the color right.

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“I comed up with it all by myself!”

August 3, 2010

Today’s post is a straight copy from Sara’s email (with one addition of mine later):

I just had to share this one. Mornings are rough around here. It is hard to get Besh motivated in the mornings. This morning, I told Besh he could do things in whatever order he wanted as long as he was ready to go by the time the clock said 8:20. I gave him some tips on when to do things but ultimately left it up to him. Though we were out the door in time, there was a major scurry at the end. We got in the car and I said, “ok, everybody take a deep breath.” As we pulled out of the driveway, this is the conversation I had with Besh:

Besh: “Mommy, I am sorry I gave you a rough morning.”

Mommy: “Besh, Thank you but you didn’t really give me a rough morning. We just had to hurry at the end. I really want to be able to let you choose the order you do things in the morning. But we just need to figure out the timing so that we aren’t rushing at the end.”

“I have a good idea. Do you want to hear it?”

“I would love to hear it. I think you have great ideas.”

“Why don’t we set the timer in the kitchen? That way, when it beeps, I will know to go pee pee, brush my teeth and get dressed. Then, I can relax and watch tv before it beeps.” (The timer he mentions is the one on the oven, we use it to measure his daily hour of wearing an eye patch to address an eye issue.)

“Besh, that is not a good idea. That is a spectacular idea! I love it.”

“Yeah. I’m a smart kid.”

We then called Ryan to tell him. After I told him the story, Besh said, “was that a good idea, Daddy?” Then a pause [During that pause Daddy said "That's a FANTASTIC idea!"] and then,

“Yeah. I comed up with it all by myself.”

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In which Besh pulls his first prank on Mommy

July 8, 2010

Totally impromptu, and not the most Earth-shattering, but bear in mind he’s still four (“Four and a half!” as he informed the checkout lady at Costco yesterday, the first time I’ve heard him refer to himself with the kid-approved “and a half!”).

Yesterday Besh and I were in the bedroom with Mommy and Isaac as I was getting ready for the afternoon adventure (Costco, as I mentioned. Because bulk quantities are an adventure!). To be clear, this was not planned. But it couldn’t have been better if it had been planned.

Besh: “Hey, Daddy, you know what? I can make a rhyme!”

Me: “Let’s hear it!”

“HEAD rhymes with SHIRT!”

“Hey, that doesn’t rhyme!” {Besh laughs}

“HAT rhymes with TV!”

“Hey, that doesn’t rhyme!” {Besh laughs}

“SHOE rhymes with FLOOR!”

“Hey, that doesn’t rhyme!” {Besh laughs}

“FEET rhymes with PANTS!”

“Hey, that doesn’t rhyme!” {Besh laughs}

Mommy: “Oh, I get this game! Hey, Besh, SOCKS rhymes with LEGS!”

Besh looks at Mommy and, totally deadpan, says:

“No, Mommy. SOCKS rhymes with FOX.”

I exert a non-trivial amount of energy to not burst out laughing.

Mommy: “Oh, Besh, you’ve made Daddy so proud.”

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Besh hams it up at his first dance recital–big shock!

May 17, 2010

Obviously he gets this from Sara. :)

Besh’s first dance recital was this past weekend. He’s been going to a weekend dance class all school year and this was the culmination of his combination ballet/tap class for 2-3 year olds. It’s been a fun year taking him to class and seeing a few moments through the studio window. It’s also been interesting seeing some of the looks from parents even in south Austin. Yes, he’s the only boy. Not just in his class, but in all 2-3 year old classes (I believe there are 10).

We had to get Besh measured for his recital costume several months ago. We added an inch here and there to try and account for growth, but naturally he exceeded our calculations. His shiny blue vest was a bit snug and short on him, but he only needed it that one day.

A few weeks ago he got to wear the costume for the first time when they took the official photos at dance class. He was thrilled. And that week and the next they invited family into class to watch the kids perform, to try and get them used to dancing in front of an audience. Besh was very into performing, and one time when the class performed early so his Nonni and Zayde weren’t back from Starbucks yet he was incredibly sad. His awesome teacher just had the class perform again when the grandparents arrived.

This is nothing new for Besh, the boy who insisted every raised surface in all of London was a stage that he needed to perform on. But the day before the dance recital, a wave of nerves descended on him and he announced he didn’t want to dance at the recital. After talking to him about it and telling him it was just important to try, he was excited to perform by the morning of the show.

We all drove down to the venue for the show early that morning. It was in the middle of nowhere and we were expecting some small utility room or dance hall or something. Instead, it was a full-blown theater. Raised stage, stadium seats, full lights, large lobby, the works. Probably seats 300 or 400 people. But Besh sees the lobby and is thrilled. We pose for some pictures in front of a giant clapboard (the theme was Night at the Oscars) and Sara takes Besh back to the dressing room.

Nervously, we all wait for his performance. His group is sixth out of ten. The show starts with some promotional materials for the dance school (Dance Xplosion, really great group) and a short performance by the teachers. Then the group of kids come out one at a time. They stand in the stage with the instructors to the side and mimic the routine the instructors are doing (that they’ve been working on). When it’s all done the kids stand in line and each one gets a medal while the family and audience cheer. Fun event.

There’s drama, of course. One child rushes on stage from the audience just as the number is ending (turns out her group was yet to perform–they just had the same costume so a bit of panic set in). Another group starts with one girl in tears, holding the hand of the instructor. By the end she does a few moves and everyone cheers wildly.

Then it’s time. Besh’s group takes the stage. They perform their number and Besh is really following along. He spins, he points his toes, he does the steps, and he’s having a blast. No nerves there. The routine ends and everyone claps. He’s second in line to get his medal so we all clap loudly and yell “Geee!” to him (that’s what Isaac calls Besh and he wanted us to yell that).

That’s when it starts. As the teacher has moved on to the next student, Besh puts his arms a little out to his side and then raises them up, making a sort of U-shape with his arms. The crowd laughs a little and cheers. He puts his arms down and I see it on his face. It’s the look of “Did that just work?”

He cocks his head a little and raises his arms again. The crowd laughs a little more and cheers a bit louder.

He’s hooked. He does it again. And again. And again. Each time the cheers are louder. Each time we’re all laughing more. By the fourth or fifth time, tears of laughter are streaming down my cheeks (others too, I’m sure). The instructors see by the end and are laughing too.

After the show, dozens (not exagerating) of people come up to us and tell Besh he stole the show or was a funny performer or great dancer. Besh took it all in stride.

Sara and I both told Besh how proud we were. One time when Sara mentioned this to Besh and asked if he was proud he said, “I’m proud of myself because I tried.”

Having seen Besh dance or make jokes in public, I suppose this shouldn’t be a surprise. But it’s one thing to do it at the mall or in a restaurant and another to do it on stage with hundreds of strangers looking out at you. I have a feeling this isn’t the last time we’ll see Besh hamming it up. And I can’t wait.

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Besh on marriage: You build houses and farms and stores. And houses.

March 30, 2010

By Sara

There has been a lot of talk about marriage going around Besh’s preschool class. Each week, he tells us who is going to marry. The same girls are always at the top of his list but they rotate. Apparently, some of the girls are also talking about getting married at home. When Besh told me her wanted a playdate with a particular girl because he was going to marry her, it occurred to me for the first time to get his take on marriage. The following was our conversation:

Me: Besh, what does it mean to be married?

Besh: It means you stay together. You stay together forever.

M: What do you do when you’re married?

B: You build houses and farms and stores. And houses.

M: But, Daddy and I are married and we don’t build houses and farms and stores.

B: Well, I will. If Liah marries me, I will build houses and farms and stores and houses with her.

M: How do you feel about the person you are married to (forgive the bad grammar here, I was just into the conversation. Also, I haven’t slept in four months!)?

B: Excited. You are excited and sometimes you clap your hands and say, “Yay!”

M: Do you think I’m excited when I see Daddy?

B: Yes. You are.

M: How old do you think you have to be to get married?

B: 12 or 13.

M: How old do you think Mommy was when I married Daddy?

B: 29.

M: How old do you think Daddy was when we got married?

At this point, Besh was clearly done with the conversation. But, I have to remember to ask him questions like this more often. Because the answers are so entertaining!

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You think having a baby brother is exciting?

December 29, 2009

Yesterday Besh started gymnastics camp since his school is still out for winter break. He was thrilled to be going back (he’d been over the summer) and see several of his school friends. It’d been a busy week with lots of family, both local and long-distance, and filled with many evenings of walking to the neighborhood Christmas House (a neighborhood tradition, guy does his entire front and backyard with lights, Christmas animatronic dancing things, etc.–it’s pretty awesome). But getting back to a daily routine will ultimately be a good thing for everyone, and Besh was excited to get started.

As Sara brought Besh into the camp and was talking to his teachers she looked at Besh.

Sara: “Besh, did anything exciting happen this past week?”

Besh: “Oh, yes!”

“What happened?”

“We went to the CHRISTMAS HOUSE!!”

“Anything else?”

Besh thought about it.

“Nope.”

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