Galveston

So I went back to our old facility today. It was like watching a death and a rebirth in the same glance. Traces of TLC---our old name tags still lying around. Our clients, offices, and the professionals we were before.

Traces of the mold that destroyed everything--- EVERYTHING from the waist (tops of our desks)down. Sometimes from the shoulder down. Recalling the mold standing off of objects- as much as a foot of outgrowth. The memory of the mold saturated air. Mold saturated EVERYTHING. Our face masks couldn't possibly hold it back and still allow breath. Mold saturated lungs. Courage, love, hope, and flat denial- keeping it out of our hearts. We must have changed gloves 10 times a day, but still felt soaked. Hauling out load after load, day after day of absolute destruction. (and we were the lucky ones- our friends/ co-workers went home to more of the same)

And now, in this same place is opportunity- a new beginning. Or at least concrete floors and partially sheetrocked walls which represent it. Something new will form in it's place. Something we are responsible for creating. Upstairs in the rubbage, I found a sign left behind from some folks who we lost in the process, "Seize the Day!" I'm not sure why it is so poignant to me. But in some small way, it feels like a beacon call. A call to do just what we are doing... Move forward... Build something new and something great. But as for now, it almost seems mundane.

Creative Bug

So this little boy cracks me up. Almost every day he wakes up with some new thing in his mind that he wants to create. It's always something new: becoming a robot, a hat with a square on it that opens up and pours raisins into his hands, a dog tickling machine, a big truck to transport apples,a cheerios transportation system, a new machine every day. Cute kid. I spend half of my life assisting him in creation development. It does make it difficult to keep the house in order--- going from one invention/ mess to the next. But it's a mess that I wouldn't stifle for anything in the world. This world needs these creative problem solving folks. But my Curious George certainly is one sloppy little monkey.

Problem-solving

On our way back from Dallas, April went to the back seat to get some rest. B had his blanket, and April was sleeping on his pillow (we didn't bring ours). When B saw she had his pillow, he naturally wanted it.

B: Can I have my pillow, please
April: Can I please keep it. I want to lay down and this seat is too hard under my head.
B: How 'bout you give me my pillow and I'll give you my blanket to lay on.

He's always coming up with a solution.

feeding

We have a couple of new SLPs at work. Fresh out of grad school. For the first year out of school, a therapist has to be observed for 20% of therapy time. I've been doing a lot of these observations. So I was watching one of our young therapists feed a client the other day. The client is at a point where we don't have to train him so much any more to make sure he uses his strategies so he doesn't aspirate. Instead, it's more relaxed therapy. Just watching him use the strategies he has already learned with a little cuing. Because my mind was relaxed from it's normal vigilant state, I was at leisure to just observe from this more distant vantage point.... I found myself quietly astounded at the inherent kindness in her actions- diligently feeding, observing carefully, feeling for and timing each swallow, reminding of strategies. Things we all do every day, yet our minds are usually so busy to even notice the kindness of the acts---of the profession.

Santa

Me: Who says Ho, Ho, Ho?
B: The Christmas guy.

More Billy Mays

Me: How old am I?
B: 29.95!

The right thing

B: Papa, don't say the wrong thing.
Me: Ok
B: Can I have a DumDum?

B in tripple-digit weather

I need water because my engine boiled over in this hot stuff.