The Elevator Man

Yesterday we were on our way to the doctor. We parked in the parking garage and walked over to the elevators. There were already some people waiting and another young man in a suit walked up about the same time we did. As we waited, Kimmie was signing to me and I was interpreting her signs aloud (she won't go on to the next sign until we speak her sign).

The young man who had walked up at the same time as us became quite fascinated with this. Kimmie was telling me her doctor stories . . ."hurt finger, doctor March". . . "hurt finger, doctor January, red blood bleeding, shot arm". She didn't want to be going to the doctor and was working herself up to a sobbing fit remembering all the past experiences at doctors' offices. Just as she was about to cry, the elevator arrived--just in time to distract her from the sobbing!

We all entered the elevator. I asked the man by the buttons to push 11 for us. When the elevator stopped the first time, the young man who was so fascinated with Kimmie realized he had forgotten to have the button pushed for his floor. I guess we were already above whatever floor he wanted to get off on because he was rather flustered. He was muttering to himself as he tried to decide whether to push the button or wait until it was headed back down. Kimmie heard him and turned to see who was talking. She looked him over, turned back towards me, turned and looked him over again, then decided she needed to hug him. He looked at me to see if it was ok, I looked him over and nodded. She gave him a really nice hug. As she was hugging him, he said to me, "She probably wouldn't be hugging me if she knew I was a doctor." I assured him that she hugs all her doctors, even though they make her cry.

I think he probably decided the extra time in the elevator was worth it.

--Mom

(By the way, she did go to the doctor in January. They pricked her ring finger to take blood for testing and gave her a shot in the arm. We don't have to tell her when that was, she remembers. There's nothing wrong with her memory!)

Our Hummer

Yes, we have a hummer. Not a Hummer, but a hummer. Our hummer is named Kimmie.

She sits and rocks and makes this "mmmmm" sound. She's usually very happy and content when she does this. So, for a while, we smile at our happy, humming girl.

After a couple hours of her making this sound continuously, well, we aren't always smiling. We start to feel like our heads might explode from the build-up of the sound. We try to get her to understand that she can stop making this noise, but to her it seems to be an uncontrolled noise that just happens. She doesn't seem to know how to stop it.

Maybe we need to buy some earplugs?

--Mom