Legal alien in the hair salon

I decided it was time for Lucas to get a haircut. Now, if you are a parent of a toddler, you know this is not something you undertake lightly. Children - especially toddlers - don't like it when people mess with their hair. They don't like it when somebody decides for them. They don't like it when they have to sit still and they certainly don't like to wait. Come to think of it, they don't like anything they didn't think up themselves. Generally speaking, the outcome of a toddler's haircut would be a funky hairdo with uneven strands of hair, a deranged toddler, a tired mom/dad, and a hair stylist seriously considering a new career path. So when I finally decided that whilst having a daughter is fun, dabbling in gender change is a precarious thing, it was Time with a capital T.

But toddler behavior aside, I have to do Lucas right. He is absolutely adorable when it comes to cutting his hair. He gets into the big chair (even when you see sheer terror on his face) and sits quite still (even when they come at him with a razor). In my favor, I have to say that I seriously prepped him by showing him what the hair stylists did with/to other children.

So far for the overall experience. Since the move to California meant leaving behind our familiar hair stylist (I seriously considered taking her with us), I had to find a new hair salon willing to take on toddlers. And I found just that around the corner. From the outside I had already gathered that it was an Indian hair salon, so I was not surprised when, upon entering the salon, I found Lucas and me to be the only non-Indians. Now, I have never been in the role of non-native, non-majority person. The feeling of being the only 'other' one is a bit daunting I must admit. You get these furtive looks and raised eyebrows, experience an intense feeling of not knowing the rules and feel you would like to behind something. In this case, this would be the big ficus in the middle of the shop (which, it has to be said, also looked like a non-native and was most certainly in dire need of a haircut too). But I stuck my ground, standing in the middle of the shop, with my very blonde toddler, not knowing when it was our turn. The outcome: Lucas was on his best behavior and can now be called the first blonde Indian boy.

[insert beautiful picture of heaps of black hair on the floor, with strands of Lucas' blonde hair on top. Unfortunately, I didn't take this picture, because I was afraid they would really think me crazy at that point.]

To dabble in scrabble

Instead of a pseudo-scientific blog, I thought I'd try a folkore blog with us being in a different culture and all. The problem is that I have not seen many folkloristic/cultural things here (if you don't count the occasional American flag, or patriotic car sticker). So you have to settle for old traditional board games. Enter Scrabble. Of all the nice games we have (Colonists, Munchkin, Carcassonne and such), Scrabble is just an old favourite. It's loads of fun to try to create long, weird words that boggle your mind and the mind of your opponent ("Is that even a word?"). Since we've moved to California we agreed that Scrabble should be played in English rather than Dutch. This made me question whether the distribution of letters would differ for both languages. I know you would agree with me that this is something that would fit smugly within the category of 'useless knowledge', but here it comes. The frequence of almost all letters differs for both languages, but the most notable differences can be found in the letters E and N (which have the highest frequency in the Dutch version), and the letters A and I (which have the highest frequency in the English version). When you think about it, it's not so strange, since these letters have high frequency in either Dutch or English. By the way, did you know that if you play all seven letters on your plate, it's called Bingo?
We admit to having cheated for an English word with the letter X. This also happens to be the letter which Lucas has learned last week.

In the category learning English, this is what Lucas came up with:

"Mag ik een toesjoe?" (by which he probably refers to a tissue)

For plain-old Dutch phrases:

Sinosaurus (his favourite animal at the moment)

So, maybe I should stick with pseudo-scientific blogs, right?

Sabbatical

So, since I'm not allowed to work yet, I will regard this time as a sabbatical. Now I know I might be a tad young for a sabbatical, but there's no time like the present. But what are you supposed to do whilst on sabbatical? Most colleagues on sabbatical often seemed to be where they used to be... at their workplace that is. Some google-research taught me that sabbaticals are used to achieve a certain goal. So in pursuit of my goals, I made myself the following list:

1. keep updated on subjects related to my workfield. - in process
I've enrolled in an ADOS-workshop for clinicians. For those of you unfamiliar with psychological tests, the ADOS is a major instrument designed to diagnose autism. It's also an instrument which requires a certificate, and yep, I'm getting myself one! That means that I will fly over to L.A. in March, and spend two days there. Other workfield related activities on my wishlist: ADI-R training (also an instrument used to diagnose autism), a specialized program on neuropsychological assessment at Berkeley, and a specialized program on child and adolescent treatment (also at Berkeley). Oh, and I've ordered some psychology books from Amazon for further studying.

2. finish writing the two children's books I've started on a year ago - will start on this as soon as Kwint goes to daycare
Finally, I've got some time to get reacquainted with my creative strike, after it had been bludgeoned to death by writing scientific papers. It's coming back with a vengeance.


3. cook, cook, cook - definitely in process
Our week schedule has had some changes. Lucas attends preschool for two days a week en has 'hot lunches' on site. On those evenings, we've switched lunch and dinner, meaning that we eat bread in the evening. What it actually boils down to is that I bake lots of nice (and healthy) things. On the other days, food consists mostly of home-made Indian or Korean origin. And of course I still bake my own bread, which is still improving. No imploding breads anymore.

4. rigorous exercise to get fit again - 'work' in process
This is something I've been wanting to do for the last ten years. Now, I actually enjoy this. But only if I can read the golden oldies at the same time (Emma by Jane Austen, Great expectations by Charles Dickens). Strange combination isn't it? But it works.

5. write some scientific papers and further develop tests in cooperation with colleagues. - will start on this as soon as Kwint goes to daycare


So for those of you afraid that I don't have anything to do, thou need not fear! The most likely risk I'm running is that I will like this whole sabbatical-thing too much.

Sometimes you just feel...

...tired, hun?

He tries so hard to be a big boy with all the potty training, going to school, learning English, teaching his little brother just how to do stuff whilst at the same time teaching him to stay away from 'his' toys. And let's not forget the most important thing: trying to get his parents to do the things he wants them to do. In this last category, we've tried to tighten the reigns a bit. So now, instead of bossing us around, he asks kindly ("Ma-ma, wil jij mij hel-pen...", with lots of emphasis on every syllable). It's the little details that matter, right?

But there are other times when the role of being a big boy is a bit daunting. He will then declare himself a little baby. That is, when he decides he's not a girl. Gender identity supposedly develops somewhere between the ages of 1,5 and 2,5-3 (although at this time children still assume you can swap sides), but we're still waiting on that particluar coin to drop. I think it's mostly to do with wanting to be a girl. Cause girls get to like pink.

Crouching tiger, hidden talent

So, of course I know my children to be very bright. VERY bright :-) As any mother does. Lucas (2;9 yrs) finds letters and words very interesting, so we've started importing alphabet books from the Netherlands. Now, I thought I would hold off teaching letters to Kwint (9 months) until he could walk. But whaddaya know, the dude already reads! He devours whole books. First, he carefully opens the book with his little fingers. This is followed  by a close scrutiny of the pictures and words. After he approves of the subject of the book (of course not all books are equally interesting), he prudently tastes the sounds of the letters by licking the words on the first page. Then it's off to the next page. What an appetite for learning, eh!

In keeping with today's subject of reading, I can't hold this from y'all:
Lucas: (looking through the pages of the thesis his father wrote) "Dit is onzin, he mama?"

(S)melancholy

Do you know that melancholic feeling whenever you smell something that reminds you of your past? Our five senses seem to have strong ties with our emotions, especially our sense of smell. It's this sense that is phyiscally closest to the limbic system which in turn is connected to both memory and emotion. So there you go, I've yet another pseudo-scientific blog for you. Apparently, connections between smell, emotions and memory go back to before you were born. So that must mean that my mom loved dingy cellars, for I love the smell of those. I say this lovingly, for I've had many feelings of melancholy last month, upon smelling her laundry detergent in my clothes. There's just one problem....no more clothes that have been washed by her.

Pavlovian baby

Today I have witnessed what I believe to be a Pavlovian reaction in one of my children. Should I be worried? For those of you unfamiliar with the ideas of Ivan Petrovich Pavlov, he's the guy who invented 'the conditional reflex', which consists of the idea of conditioning as an automatic form of learning. Two things should be mentioned though:

1.
Common knowledge tells us that Pavlov signalled the occurence of food by ringing a bell and thus bringing about the conditional reflex of saliva production in a dog who believed dinnertime was nigh. However, it seems that Pavlov also used other instruments among which were metronomes, visual stimuli and electric shocks. Where was the ethical committee when that last one entered his mind, eh?
2.

Apparently he had an assistent (also Ivan) who worked with him. Ivan Tolochinov did not nearly get as much publicity as Pavlov did upon presenting the results. Does this sound familiar to any of my old junior research fellas?

But my writings are wandering from the actual subject of this blog, which is my youngest son of 9 months. He is always full of energy, playing and prancing about. However, I KNOW he gets tired around 2,5 hours after waking. Not that it really shows, because at this time he's still crawling about like a cute ant on acid (or just a regular ant for that matter, because ants always look peculiarly busy to me). So I take him to his bed, and as soon as I hit the music-button of the babyphone-type-apparatus, he starts yawning and hangs in my arms. Hello Pavlov!

To end this pseudo-scientific blog, I'll give you a quote from my all-time favorite comedian Eddie Izzard, who talked about the results of Pavlov's cat experiment. Of course the results of this study have never been published, since it did not result in significant effects (which is something for another blog):

Day 1:                 Rang bell, cat fucked off.
Day 2:                 Rang bell, cat went and answered door.
Day 3:                 Rang bell, cat said he had eaten earlier.
Day 4:                 Went to ring bell, but cat had stolen batteries.
Final day-day 5:   Went and rang bell with new batteries, but cat put his paw on bell so it only made a
                           thunk noise. Then cat rang his own bell. I ate food.

Oodles of noodles

Since the previous blog might have scared some of you off, I thought I should discuss a more mundane subject one this blog. So there it is, I will write about noodles. Rice noodles to be more specific. Cause don't you just hate the mess they make when you try to make yourself a simple soup? Before you know it, your kitchen looks like a giant mikado-fair which has just been hit by a hurricane. And what's with the whole portions-thing? As these 'separate' portions are impossible to disentangle, why do they bother?

Now, the reason I named this blog 'Oodles of noodles' is a dream I've had for a long time while writing my thesis. Whenever I felt a bit down, I imagined starting a little Asian restaurant and naming it 'Oodles of Noodles'. So, this name just happened to pop up in my head recently, and I thought I'd just give it a google. And whaddaya know, there are plenty of restaurants with that name. Darn. Oh well, I liked the idea mostly because of the name.


So featuring Lucas's language we've been having interesting pieces of conversations lately:

Lucas:   "De warming is aan. Hij doet fww" (verwarming)

Ik:         "En wat komt er dan door de verwarming?"

Lucas:    (grote ogen) "VUUR!"

"Het ligt op de table."

Lucas: "Een ei!"

Ik:       "Ja, en weet je hoe ze dat bij jou op school noemen?"

Lucas: "Nee."

Ik:       "Een egg."

Lucas: "Neeeeeeee"

Lucas: "Zometeen komt de zon weer op, he?"
Ik:       "Nee joh, het is nu nacht, jij gaat zo lekker slapen. De zon is ook aan het slapen."
Lucas: "Waar is het bedje van de zon?"
Ik:       "Nou uhhh...de zon is helemaal boven geweest in de lucht, en toen ging hij helemaal naar beneden,
            en nu slaapt hij in zijn bedje aan de horizon".
Lucas: "Twee zonnen he?"

Philosophy 101

So I've been in a philosophical mood these last couple of days. Contemplating the big questions so to speak. I could say that this is due to our move abroad, but I should mention that my nightstand is currently occupied with "Heidegger and a hippo walk through those pearly gates", by Thomas Cathcart and Daniel Klein. Now there's a title you won't come across by browsing for a whodunnit. The book contains humoristic explanations of philosopical ideas on the subjects of life, death and the afterlife using lots of jokes. I've been interested in philosophy since I followed a course on it in my junior year at university. I must admit it's difficult to grasp the philosophical ideas of Wittgenstein and the likes when it's about 11 pm, but I'm hanging in there. And last week I had an aha-erlebnis. Bear with me.
This Wittgenstein dude said that eternal life belongs to those who live in the present. That is, if eternity is defined as timelessness rather than infinite temporal duration.

1.
Now - as in the present - is always. Cause it's now...and it's now....and it's now. Get it? Eternity means timelessness, because this is how Wittgenstein defined it. But if you define it different, the whole idea goes down the drain.

2.
Math-me started working on this (yes, I do have one, it's just wrong most of the time)

X = Y                         eternity = timelessness
Z = Y                         now      = timelessness
therefore X = Y          eternity  = now

Correct? Yes, but here comes the catch, we're talking about qualities not entities, right? So it should go something like this:

X has quality Y
Z has quality Y
therefore X = Y? That is not what I've learned in philosophy 101

So not only is it semantics, it's flakey math in my frame of mind. But then again, who am I (yes one of the Big Questions).The book is lots of fun though. Consider this joke: "When it's eternity here, it's still early morning on the West Coast." :-) So if that is the truth, as long as we live here, we'll be (pr)eternity. Or is that just geography? Now there's a thought for y'all.

Loco Motion

So our youngest is a handy little dude. He started crawling (belly on floor) at 7 months, and at 9 months he's really crawling. And his cute nimble hands, feet and mouth are the cause of my concern.

When I have my back towards him for just a second, he manages to get his little hand stuck in the little step-up his broher has. Then he finds out he can take beer bottles out of their box. Next thing I know, I find him eating crayons, yesterday's food, plastic, paper, electricity cords, you name it. This is followed by tumbling on his little snout on the one upper tooth he has. At the same time, he puts his hands in his brother's potty (which of course is full), and gets his head stuck under the couch. When I think I can put him out of harm's way by securing him in his chair, he manages to reach the cabinet with the trash can, and is happily chewing on the plastic trashbag. Do I hear you ask where he's at right now, while I'm typing this?Welllll, he's ransacking my kitchen cabinet, banging his head against the pots and pans.

Now that just makes me wonder why he's such a hapy fella.

Lost in translation

So Lucas is starting to use more English words.. That's good right? Well, the problem is, some things get lost in translation. His new (understandable) English vocabulary includes:

• byebye
• yes
• dank you (we'll have to work on that one)
• Larry (dunno if we'll use that often)
• mommy

So, ok that might not be that much, but we're getting somewhere. In Dutch he's able to produce very complex sentences (sometimes also non-understandable). His latest funny remark:

• "Ik ga in wandelen". So this would be the equivalent of going outside for a walk, only then inside.
• He's crazy about cars, and luckily they've got lots of those around here. His favourite in traffic? "Een jeeps".

A New Beginning

So, I'm taking control over my own website...we'll have to see how that works out.