using the world wide web to share news about my wonderful daughter, all the while brainstorming little acts of subversion

Sunday, June 29, 2008

Talking and new teeth


After weeks and weeks of copious amounts of drool, we finally saw that Katie has two more upper teeth coming in. No sight of the two lower teeth she should have by now. At least all the drool and gnawing has been for something...

And she's talking. Minimally, of course, and certainly not on demand. We thought maybe she was saying "dog" at Dad's in St. Louis, but it was more than likely just her normal "Da." The other day, though, Regina and I were in Katie's room when one of the cats strolled in. Katie said, "Dee-tee," a.k.a "kitty." If the cat meows and we ask, "Who's that?" she'll say it again (sometimes- sometimes she just doesn't want to play that game). But we can also point to the cat, say, "Who's that? Is that Sita?" and she'll say it. So I think we've verified that her first word is "kitty."

Also, Regina just left after being here the past week. I'm sure it's normal for parents to think that their child has called them by name, but Regina, at one point, said she was sure Katie had said hers. Sure enough, a little while later, Katie started to say, "Ray-jeee." That's about as far as she got, though. She seems to have a name for Regina, something that sounds like "jee-jee."

A few more things: she gives kisses, although sparingly (and at first, not to Mommy), if we ask, "Where's my nose?" she'll point it out- she's pointing to everything these days. She's adjusting to her new day care beautifully; by the end of the week, she didn't cry as we left, instead playing in her favorite little area. I really need to post pictures of the Sprout House. It's wonderful.

And if only she would trust herself- which I don't think even adults do- she could walk. She insists on holding onto a finger, but it seems like that's for security more than balance. Soon enough, I'm sure it'll happen.

And Fred and Ginger, here's that picture of Katie and Regina you wanted. It's also on photobucket so you have access to it.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

The Iowa Hyperbole

I was looking at my profile in this blog tonight. I nearly changed the portion that read, "hater of Iowa winters (I think that's what really started all this)." It's not that that has changed, because I still groan thinking about what we endured January through March regarding snow, ice, driving in it or being housebound because of it. I wanted to change that to "hater of Iowa's freakish natural disasters" because it was brought to my attention that not only did we have a heinous winter, we also had an earthquake and the now infamous "historic" Floods of 2008.

It all reminded me, though, of a phrase Eric and I coined three and a half years ago when we first moved here. It seemed that no matter what, it was always hotter than usual, or milder than usual, or colder than usual- everything was always bigger, better, worse, or just more than usual. For instance, the very day we moved to Iowa was the end of the a heat wave that was hotter than usual. The three, cold-as-hell weeks after Thanksgiving that year, where the temperature was literally NEVER above 15 degrees, were colder than usual, followed by the next two months that were milder than usual...you get my drift. I mean, I think this year, the Hawkeye football team has even had more trouble with the law than usual.

And so it seems that this year, 2008, Mother Nature has been shittier than usual to the just-okay people of Iowa, and all of us unfortunate enough to have moved here. Although I'm happy to sleep in my own bed and to have a roof over my head, I will still have to drive through what looks like a blast zone from a nuclear bomb every day to get to and from school. Seriously, I nervously drove across the 8th Avenue bridge last night- you know, that one that I said people were lining up on to take pictures of the railroad trestle two weeks ago when we first came back to Iowa from Oklahoma only to have it submerged by feet of water two days later- and there was still no power, a funky smell hung in the air like the tide had just gone out, and everything under the four foot level was demolished.

Enough, already, Iowa. There are still six months left in the year. What else can happen that's extraordinary? There was already an EF-5 tornado- I guess there's still time for more of that. Could we have a crispier than usual fall season? Will the leaves be more vibrant than usual in October? Is it possible the Hawks will suck more than they did last year? Will the Regents finally get mad and fire Kirk Ferentz, who, if he worked in the South, would have been fired years ago for his record. Could my fall suck this year academically more than it did last year?

...on that note, I should get studying. I do have comps in about eight weeks, and if I fail those, things would truly suck.

She loves the playground

Thursday, June 19, 2008

At "Home" in Oklahoma

We've been home since Saturday, and plan on heading back to Iowa this Saturday. The roads are opening back up, although the flooding isn't over. That is to say, all the waters have not receded in Iowa City and Coralville and traffic is extremely congested. But, we can get back and forth to some extent between home and school and that was a major contributing factor to the decision to go back this weekend.

Oddly, though, as I get around Oklahoma, it seems like I half expect to experience Iowa. I expect roads to be closed or stores to be closed, or basically, to be living in flood-stage. I've been paying close attention to what's been going on there, and my friend Yeon text messages me with updates; her text that I-380 was open came at 6:30 in the morning. Yes, I was up. The baby, however, was not.

It's not unusual to have this sense of duality when we come home. I have a hard time remembering what the channel numbers are here in Oklahoma, and I'm still surprised to see Oklahoma license plates in Oklahoma. Eric and I do notice the rather stark differences between home and home; namely, that the women are so much more made up here in Oklahoma. In Iowa, once a woman has a few kids, she dons the frumpy Iowa mom cut that I took on in March and stops wearing makeup or fitting clothes. Here in Oklahoma, it seems moms hit the gym.

Also, for every sedan in the parking lot, there are two or three trucks or SUVs here in Oklahoma. My little Mazda gets sandwiched between massive trucks that are usually red if we're in Norman, and more often than I like, they have "W" stickers somewhere. Although Iowans are loyal to their schools, there's no fan like a Sooner fan. Like the Oklahoma license plates, when I'm here, I still get excited when I see OU regalia, thinking we've come across another expatriate Sooner fan before realizing that driver was only one of a million others in the state.

I'm not having as hard a time with the warm weather as I thought I would. Yes, it's warm, but it actually feels good. I can still wear jeans in 90 degree+ weather.

Finally, Eric and Katie went to Owasso today with Regina and his parents to see his grandmother and other relatives. I never like having a day to myself as much as I think I should; I was pretty grumpy as I buckled Katie up into the Martins' Camry and said bye-bye. She didn't wave back, which she has been doing this week and its extremely adorable, but as I went back inside Mom's house, I remembered this Family Circus cartoon strip Mom and Dad had tacked onto the fridge when I was a kid. In one scene, everything's grey, the family bird is drooping, and Mom and Dad are skulking sadly around the house. In the next, the kids come home, everything's in color, the bird is singing and Mom and Dad are jubilant. That's how I feel- I miss my baby- my house just feels empty without her around. They'll be home in a few hours, I know, but until then, I'm just a little sad without Katie around.

Saturday, June 14, 2008

A hairy escape from Iowa

The flooding only gets worse in Iowa. Friday, the UI cancelled classes for the next week. If, in fact, the campus is habitable after only a week, and the roads passable around town, I'll be deeply, deeply amazed. But it was about 12:30 when we found out the UI was closing, and minutes later, when we realized class was the only reason we came home, we decided to head back to OK.

It wasn't as easy as that, however. The next five hours seemed to last FOREVER until, at 6 p.m., we were finally on the road to Dad's house in St. Louis on the first leg of our trip home.

First, because my building on campus is right on the river and one of those to be evacuated, we were told by officials to get everything out that we might need to work for weeks. My comps start August 18th and about half of my readings are in my office. I weighed whether or not I would need these books, but when my friend said they were telling us to be prepared to lose access until August, a rescue mission was in order.

So we decided that Eric would go to campus for class and retrieve my books, which we knew would take much longer than normal due to restricted road access. He left ten minutes after our decision to leave, at 1 pm, with a dolly to carry all my books.

When he got to my office at 2, I didn't realize that he had had to park waaaaay up the hill and then walk down the hill that defies an Oklahoman's imagination with the dolly to my building. Adler wasn't supposed to be evacuated until Saturday at 3, but the power was already off, there was no elevator, and they were pumping water out of the basement. He grabbed the thirty or so books I needed...

...and by the time he got back to the Jeep, somehow found out that they'd actually cancelled his class for the day. This was 2:30; he called to say it was time to go home.

So I started packing us up- "us" being Katie and me. Forty-five minutes later, I called to see where Eric was because the drive shouldn't have taken longer than an hour, even with congestion on the highway. He hadn't even gotten to the highway; at this point, there were only two roads out of Iowa City and the traffic was backed up. Keep in mind, the Iowa City-Coralville area is about the size of Norman, and there are about six or seven access points to get to the highway. But bridges were closed, roads were flooding, and only two roads were left that did not cross the river.

Then, Eric called to ask if I could pack his clothes. It annoyed me at first- he was supposed to be home any minute and could do it himself. At this point it was well after three, and Eric had just heard, as he languished on the paralyzed highway, that they were closing the highway we needed to get out of town at 6 pm.

This highway is I-380, and we take a portion of I-80 to get to school. There are other roads connecting Iowa City and Cedar Rapids, but as you might guess, those roads were all covered with water. The Iowa River, which is what is terrorizing the UI, crosses 380 and 80. It's also flooding surrounding fields, which have been creeping up on 380 for weeks. It was this six mile portion, comprising this low area and the bridge over the Iowa River, that they needed to close.

In other words, if we were to take the detour to get between Iowa City and Cedar Rapids, we would have to head north and west to Des Moines on U.S. 20, south on I-35 to I-80, and then east on I-80. What is normally a 35 minute trip would take at least five hours. Those are the only roads available with all the flooding statewide.

When the traffic northbound was so slow that Eric moved maybe 2 miles in an hour, I loaded the car, the dog, the baby and the doors of his Jeep and headed to my friend Choonghee's house in North Liberty, which was just south of the area to be closed on the highway. Katie and I made it to Choonghee's about 5:15, but Eric hadn't even gotten to a point where he could turn around and head south again on 380. Slowly, slowly, though, he got to the airport exit, and made it to Choonghee's about 5:45. Right at 6 pm, just as they closed the highway, we had filled up with gas and headed south to Dad's in St. Louis.

Now, we're spectators to the flood here in Oklahoma. Because the water in Cedar Rapids should be operational by the end of the week and I have a thrice-rescheduled ultrasound on my thyroid on Friday, we'll probably head back Thursday. It was pretty tense, though, getting down 380- Eric and I could have realistically been stranded on complete opposite sides of the flood. That would have been extremely depressing. And now, seeing the immense mobilization of sandbagging volunteers in IC, I feel a little guilty that we left without helping. As Mom said, though, there's nothing we can do now, but we can help when we get back. No doubt, there will be plenty to do.

Thursday, June 12, 2008

Flood update

We're still okay- but to give you an idea of how close the flood waters are, we live off of 19th Street, and the waters cover things until 4th or 5th Street.

We can only use water for drinking, and all other utilities sparingly. Needless to say, the dinner dishes are still dirty...and I guess we'll make do with the toilet.

Katie's in bed, but this is getting rather depressing. I suddenly feel poor, although we're blessed beyond measure right now. The flooding is beyond description. The water could be covering my house... but the bleak reality is, some of the poorer parts of the city are the ones under the most water. And, I don't think it's a coincidence that what used to be an immigrant enclave, the Czech Village, was the first to flood. In other words, my comps readings are getting to me and ideas of empire, hegemony, and social engineering are at the front of my mind, and it doesn't seem coincidental that, back in the day, the nicer houses in town were built farther away from the river and are not the ones flooding right now.

The river's supposed to "crest" tomorrow morning at 32 feet. Flood stage, I might add, is 12 feet. The Iowa River through IC won't crest until Tuesday.

Only a mere puddle in comparison

Earlier today, in the middle of a thunderstorm, we discovered our roof was leaking in the living room along the wall lining the fireplace. Of course, we groused about it, but as the sheer scope and devastation of the flood becomes clear, our leaky roof is a blessing in comparison to the thousands of folks whose homes are completely inundated by the floodwaters right now.

We finally went to gawk a few minutes ago. In fact, we'd only have to go a few blocks south to see the roads covered in water. A few snapshots of what we saw as we drove along I-380, which winds along the river, and hence the flooding:
-The bridges the cross the river downtown are COVERED. You can barely see the tops of the railings.
-The water in the flooded areas flood some houses to their first floor ceilings. Some will be surely swept away by the waters. Note: the water was not this high yesterday.
-The Cedar River is curvy, and the outlying areas look like swamps.
-This is what they mean by major flooding.

Iowa City's getting hit just as hard, and will affect us directly. My office building is being evacuated by Saturday, so I have to try and go down tomorrow and clear out anything from my office because it may be weeks before we can get back in. Adler, my building, was actually in the second round of closings, which is surprising because it's not even 100 feet from the river. Katie's day care will also be closed, mostly because so many of the teachers will be affected adversely, they can't make it in to work.

We're in the middle of something major here. Time and again they refer to this flooding as "historic." I believe it, too. Everything's compared to the 1993 floods; for instance, they'll say so many cubic feet of water are passing by per second(up to 40,000 in Iowa City, 70,000 in Cedar Rapids), and then tell how many passed in the '93 floods. And yes, this flood, by all accounts, will be worse than the '93 disaster.

But we're fine. We may be unable to get to IC for a few days, but we'll be able to make it to the store. If it gets dicey, though, we'll make it to higher ground- wherever that may be.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Home in Oklahoma

Water in Iowa only seems to cause us trouble

Once the snow melted, I thought we were in the clear. I could go to school unimpeded and study. But no, we couldn't just have a peaceful summer. Now we are experiencing "historic" flooding. Our house is fine, but in short, Cedar Rapids has implemented it's 500 year flood plan, or however you say it- no one bothers to explain these things- but we avoid it by mere blocks, and I can't even begin to relate how anxious rushing waters under shaky bridges make me. I hate bridges. I hate bodies of water. I hate this flooding.

Katie's day care is on the other side of the river from my office- which is maybe 1oo feet from the river. That distance may be shortened before long, but if it is, much of the UI will be under water. I can't even begin to count the number of bridges we have to cross- namely, the one separating Katie and I while she's at day care. We cross rivers experiencing historic flooding constantly during the day.

Let's just say that I now understand why the main UI library, which is next to my building, has the stacks on the two highest floors. Supposedly the 1993 floods were devastating, and word is, this year's will be worse.

Because I haven't taken any pictures, although the bridges have been lined with people doing just that, here are some links to local news sites and one web cam of the Iowa River as it lines the UI campus:

www.kcrg.com
www.gazetteonline.com
www.press-citizen.com
http://www.iihr.uiowa.edu/webcam/
http://uiflood.blogspot.com/

The river web cam is located maybe two blocks from my building at the Hydraulics Lab, which is the best in the world.

One last anecdote: as we took our usual exit into Cedar Rapids Tuesday coming home from OK, we always cross this one bridge. The water is usually very low beneath it, and there are four or five bridges in close proximity. As we crossed it Tuesday, however, we noticed it was teeming with people, some strolling their children across, and when we looked south, we realized why. People were taking pictures of the next bridge over, which is a railroad trestle (Spelling?). The cars are still sitting on it, so the water doesn't sweep it away; the water, I should add, was flowing directly underneath the bridge. And those bridges are all closed now.

and: water may cover I-380, so we may have to find an alternate route to school...

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

High spirits undeterred by calamity


In a scene typical these days, Katie was kicking up her heels last night only to meet disaster. She was buzzing around the house in only her diaper, due to a rather messy dinner of mashed bananas and jarred peas. She took her position at her favorite spot, the back sliding screen door, and when Eric opened the dishwasher, she turned around quickly and stepped out like she was going to walk over to him. Instead, she ended up falling forward, face first and busting her lip open- again.

At this rate, she'll never walk by herself. Unlike Saturday when she took a header on her car seat, however, she jumped right back into the game and continued whizzing around the house.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

A beautiful Sunday

My angry email to the Gap

To Whom It May Concern…although I don’t think the Gap cares:

I have bought my last knit shirt from the Gap. Being a die-hard Gap shopper, this is saying a lot, although I should’ve seen the writing on the wall YEARS ago. Your company clearly has no interest in producing clothes that fit all ranges of body types, particularly those of us who are tall and curvy, for more than a single wearing. I refer to my deep frustration that the tank-tops I just bought and just washed for the first time are now way too short to cover my tummy. This is not the first time I have bought a knit top from the Gap and had to give it away after the first washing; two years ago, I got one wearing out of a set out eight or ten Henley tops before they were washed and sadly, too small for me to wear.

May I mention, as well, that your failure to provide long-length jeans over size 12 in your stores is rather frustrating as well? If you have sinking revenues, and I suspect that you do, I will not be sorry to see the millions of gap stores that I once loved close one by one. You make a shitty product these days, and the crap that you do provide only works for short, flat-chested, super-skinny women. Most people can’t afford to buy new shirts every season. Maybe if you stopped contracting out the work that makes your clothes, for one, and spent a little less time distressing the clothes, for two, people like me, trying to lose those few last baby pounds, would fall in love with your store again. As it stands, your shitty and overpriced product and indifference to anyone but those underage, malnourished and greasy teenagers in your ads prevents me from patronizing your stores.

Your former customer,

MaryAnn Martin

Ph.D. candidate, University of Iowa