Wheaties Baby

After all, it's the breakfast of champions. And our B certainly is that!

It must also be the lunch and dinner of champions, too. Who knew?

This she must have picked up from M when he was here the last two weeks. He finds it difficult to face the day without his morning infusion. Maybe he got her hooked with the frozen raspberries (booo-ry!) he adds to his. Maybe she just developed a taste for it in the process. In any event, it is definitely her first choice of food these days. She likes to poke at the flakes with a fork or a spoon, and is somewhat successful in eating them that way.

Her preferred method is to slurp down the whole conglomeration after the flakes get a little soft. This works great - except that we often have the bowl suctioned down onto her tray. When she wants to slurp it down, she usually tries to lift the bowl up, gets frustrated, then asks for help. The other night she was a little impatient, and just pulled harder until...


Better eat'cha wheaties.

Bum-Ow!

A few weeks ago, the first time the weather turned fine, we decided to head out for a bike ride one evening. We were thrilled to find that Brynna's bike helmet, purchased just before we left Minnesota, now fits:



Then we packed her into her super-duper bike trailer and took off. The first five or ten minutes were great. Then...we started to hear crying from the "pod."

One thing you have to realize about New Hampshire, see, is that with virtually no taxes of any kind, the roads are dreadful. Brynna was not at all impressed with the bouncing that was going on, despite Alex's best efforts to avoid the frost heaves and the potholes.

We pulled over and readjusted B's books and toys. We located a slightly desiccated Nuk that had been stored in the Chariot and handed it over. Then we set out again, and things were better for a little while...just about as long as it took for us to get to the halfway point of our route, the farthest possible point away from home. Even though the road had smoothed out, Brynna apparently found the downhills quite alarming.

Alex spent the rest of the trip standing on his brakes on the downhills and then, having forsaken all his momentum, working very hard on the uphills. Finally we made it home and unloaded Brynna, turning her loose in the yard to play on her jungle gym.

She wandered off across the grass, then turned back around, made the sign for bicycle, and said, "bye-col."

"Yes," we said. "You went on the bicycle!"

She then looked at us forlornly, pointed to her bottom, and said, "bum."

"What about your bum, sweetie?"

"Owwww."

We felt terrible. She spent the next few days saying "bicycle - bum - ow" whenever bikes were mentioned.

So we eased off the biking, alternating riding days so that Brynna didn't have to come along. We decided to restart her off slow, with little rides around town.

So Sunday evening, while I was on call, Alex and Brynna biked the two miles up to the hospital to see me. With extra padding on the seat of the Chariot. It went well, and so on Monday afternoon I decided to see how she would do on the 20 minute ride back from Annie's. It was a big hit! Brynna was very excited to see me show up on the bike, and she sang her little songs all the way home, the same way she usually does in the car. She didn't even get alarmed when we rode across the path next to the interstate!

This morning I took her up to Annie's on the bike—success again. So, it looks like we may have a biker chick on our hands after all.

High five, little B!

It's Snowing Here Today...

...so I will use it as an excuse to post a spring-y photo taken during the glorious weather last week:



I am SO pleased with these flowers. They are gorgeous and make me smile every time I see them. My mom brought the bulbs up from White Flower Farm and then helped me plant them late last fall, and I think that is the one home-making thing I have managed to accomplish during my entire intern year. Case in point: Brynna's room just got curtains this past weekend. The windows in our room are currently being covered by 1. a Snuggie and 2. a big towel, added just this week since I am working nights and sleeping through the day, and the blinds just weren't cutting it...but never fear, I ordered actual, real, blackout curtains for our room last night!

iPhone Surgery

The recent scoop about the (possible) lost-and-found 4th-gen iPhone prototype has me thinking that, come June/July, it might be time for an upgrade. I was, through the great beneficence of Hilary's grandfather, able to be an early adopter and bought a first-generation iPhone when it came out. That phone, minus some glitches, has served me well for the last three years. Still, it does feel a bit sluggish in loading and using apps compared to Hilary's more recent 3GS model, and it would be nice to have that faster connectivity. If the rumors about it using the A4 processor are true, it should be a screamer indeed.

Still, I've got a couple months ahead of me where I shall continue to depend on the phone I've got. Like I said, it has served me well for a bunch of years now. I did have this one weird glitch last year where, for whatever reason, it stopped recognizing when I had the headset plugged in. This is kinda important for the iPhone, because when the headset is plugged in, sound gets piped to that headphone jack, not the built-in speaker, and the phone gets its voice input from the headset mic, not the built-in one. It was an inconsistent glitch, but it meant that I couldn't properly use it as a phone, and sometimes the music wouldn't play in the headphones, so it was a problem. I purchased a replacement headphone jack assembly (which also includes the vibe motor, power switch, silent switch, and volume up/down switches in one wicked rigid-flex assembly) from the ever-reliable iFixIt.com, perused their step-by-step guide on how to change it, and was all set to attempt the repair myself. But I got busy, and after a week or two it resolved itself. So I set aside the replacement part and mostly forgot about it.

That is, at least, until Tuesday afternoon, when the same problem cropped up. This time I was determined to fix the problem and get on with things. So after Brynna went to bed that night, I laid out my tools and a cuppa on the dining room table and set to work.


Those who are interested can read online about how to break into an iPhone, which was not really meant to be opened by mere mortals. It's not quite for the faint of heart, but with patience and a little delicacy, I'd say most people can do it. Most people who aren't too fussed about putting a few dings into that immaculate case, that is. Being 2.5+ years old, it was already well outside of warranty, and had some battle scars from wide travels, so in I went.

It took about 40 minutes to get the black plastic antenna cover off, and perhaps another hour to get the aluminum back case off. I bent the edge of the case a bit in the process, but being metal I was able to bend it back right again (more or less). After that it was a straightforward task of removing a half dozen tiny screws and extracting the old headphone jack assembly. Putting it back together with the new assembly only took about 15 minutes.

Feeling pretty pleased with myself, I tested it out.

Nope. Not fixed.

Not any more broken, mind you. I hadn't made things worse, I just hadn't made them better.

By this point it was after midnight, so I decided to call it quits for the night and hope for the best. The following morning, however, proved that I had succeeded last night in doing just one thing: making the inconsistent glitch perfectly and totally consistent. The iPhone, for its own inscrutable reasons, had things backwards: when I plugged the headset in, it believed it was unplugged; when unplugged, it thought it was there. As a result, when Mark called me in the afternoon, we couldn't hear each other at first because my phone believed that the headset mic was connected, when I was speaking into the built-in mic. We were able to talk to each other a few minutes later, but that required me to hold the phone to my ear normally, but have the headset dangling off the back. I guess I could live with that situation for a few months until the next iPhone comes out, but it would have been pretty annoying.

A little more poking around on the internet illuminated a possible culprit: lint. The headphone jack has a number of small, springy electrical contacts (left ear, right ear, mic, ground), and additional contacts that tell the iPhone when the headset is plugged in. These contacts are so small (half a millimeter, perhaps) that a piece of lint or other debris can prevent the contact from being made. People have tried compressed air, tiny screwdrivers, and alcohol swabbing to fix the problem with mixed success. I also noticed a post that indicated that the replacement part I had installed on Tuesday was actually a slightly newer version of the part I had replaced, a version incompatible with my early-build first-gen iPhone.

But, I also did find this post by a guy who seemed to have a decent grasp of the problem and offered a solution. It required not only cracking into the iPhone again, but actually doing a little exploratory surgery on the headphone jack itself to properly clean the innermost contact, the one that tells the phone when the headset is plugged in.

So Wednesday night I performed the fix for a second time. I did the aforementioned cleaning on the headphone jack assembly I had taken out the night before. I then opened up the iPhone once again. Partly because it had already been broken into, and partly because I was feeling a bit more confident and familiar, it took me all of ten minutes to remove the covers this time. Before making the swap, I plugged the newly cleaned and freely-dangling headphone jack assembly into the exposed guts of my phone to test things out. Sure enough, the problem was fixed. After that it was just the mechanics of swapping out the new headphone jack assembly with the phone's original one and closing things back up again. In and out in less than an hour.

I figure I've renewed my geek cred for at least the next month.

And hey, it's Earth Day, so let's all celebrate by repairing more things instead of replacing!

Little Treehugger

Brynna and I went out for a walk the other day, which took a little longer than usual because she decided that the early spring trees needed some snuggling.

"Hug!" she cried, while making a beeline for the nearest trunk.

Then she would look back at me with an insistent "Mama!" until I came over and hugged the tree too.



I did try to gently guide her away from the telephone poles.

Little Climber

Hilary and I have gone through a sort of "five stages of..." with Brynna right now. It's not the five stages of death, it's the five stages of "Holy Crap Brynna's Climbing!" Behold:

It started with Brynna attempting to climb up, say, a chair leading up to the dining room table. Unsuccessful the first time or two, you think that all is well and safe. This, my friends, is the first stage: Denial.

Next comes Anger, when you realize that, yes, she's standing on the dining room table, and you had nothing to do with this sudden change in potential energy. "Brynna, NO!!!" you say as forcefully as you can muster without shrieking, whisking her back down to a lower gravitational state. You've dodged a bullet, you think: she managed that just by a fluke of furniture arrangement, luck, and ignorant courage.

That is, of course, until about five minutes later, or the next day, or when playing outside, and you see that she's right back to it. Stool up to the kitchen island? Ladder on her jungle gym? Nooooo problem. You move on to Bargaining, but this is a short lived and largely futile period. How can you negotiate with a toddler about anything, let alone express the danger of which she is blissfully unaware?

This leads to Depression. Without constant, impossible vigilance, and unable to cajole, intimidate, or educate your child to not do such a foolish thing, how can you possibly prevent the tragic accident that must occur?

Finally, realizing that she is, in fact, rather good at it, and that you can prevent it, you arrive where we are now: Acceptance. This isn't exactly the same as submission or defeat. We still will spot her when we are able, but we won't stop her. In fact, we felt comfortable enough to take a few steps back and capture these images from the edge of parenting:







Next stop: El Capitan? Eiger Nordwand? Trango Tower? Who knows?

Ball Crawl

Were you to walk into our living room right now, or anytime in the last few months, you would see a cuboidal, fabric-walled tent sitting between our living and dining rooms. Look a little closer, and you would (or at least, any parent in this day and age would) be able to pick out the fuzzy red profile of Elmo from Sesame Street. And, if you were there at just the right time, you might hear some satisfied giggles and thumping feet coming from inside. This is Brynna's miniature ball crawl - a Christmas gift from her grandparents.


Brynna's favorite activity in here is to be hoisted in through the portal in the roof, then dance around inside while someone shakes the everloving out of the tent - causing a small blizzard of red, blue, and yellow plastic balls. Like a rodeo, the real measure of this activity is how long she can keep her feet before falling down. Eight seconds is pretty good. Second favorite is to have someone hold her by the ankles upside-down and get lowered in, head first, and pluck balls out like some sort of crane. That one is limited largely by the upper body strength of whoever's doing the lifting. I can manage about five lifts before my shoulders start to tremble. Her third favorite is to pass one or more balls out through the several port holes in one wall, then have a ball returned - first in this hole, no in this hole, this one, over here, now this one, etc. After five or six teases I usually let her have it, because I want her to keep enjoying her self.

My favorite activity? Shaking the tent makes Brynna's hair stand on end!

500

Congratulations, dear readers! You are, right now, reading our 500th blog post. Thank you for sticking with us through thick and thin, frequent posting and lapses, humor and dry geekery, dog tails and crumpet foibles. Here's to the next 500, wherever in our lives they come from and whenever they appear!