Halfway there.

Alright! The schedule is starting to normalize, if only ever so slightly. From what we worked out, I basically work from 9am to lunch, then take breaks to play with Elise while Monika takes two classes in the afternoon. Then I get to work the nighttime hours, when there are usually a couple seminars and events such as the dance that will go on tomorrow.

Last time, I survived our 23-hour days (because of the constant time changes), by fitting naps in there… and it’s a little harder to fit in naps this time around. Elise, however, seems to be adjusting to the schedule just fine, when everything’s ok. (She had a little freak accident where her eye was poked yesterday, so she was up a lot of the night. She seems to be fine now.)

Once classes are set up and I respond to the professor requests, I’m mostly on call, so it gives me a good opportunity to sit, read, write, and watch the sea go by. We are smack-dab in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, and though the ship could make it to Barcelona much quicker, we’re moving at a snail’s pace to accommodate the class schedule. Hard to believe we’ll have several more days before we see any land.

And somehow, hundreds of miles away from shore, we see birds flying alongside the ship quite often. My favorite things to do (which hasn’t happened on this trip yet), was to go to the outside front of deck 7, and look down to see the schools flying fish spooked by the ship, gliding away some 50ft or so for dear lives, only to see the seagulls and boobies that why along the ship dive at them as soon the fish hit the water again. It’s pretty impressive, if not somewhat funny to see the fish jump out. You can almost hear them screaming, “Get awaaaaaaayyyyyyy!”

So after a hectic start to get settled into a rhythm of classes, here’s hoping for a predictable second half of the crossing. Aside from the eye-poke, Elise seems to be doing just great, and when she gets excited about something, such as going to the pool, she makes sure to stop and let everyone know what her current plans are.

So I leave you with a quick list of Elisey-isms I’ve witnessed so far. I’m sure Monika has more to add:

- Elise was eating on Monika’s lap, and looks at something on her hand. She asks, “Mamma, what’s this?” while quickly sticking it in Monika’s mouth. Before Monika gets a chance to respond, Elise elaborates. “It came from my nose.”

- When the ship very slowly made its way away from Halifax, I told Elise, “Look, we’re moving!” To which she corrected, “NO DADDA! The water’s moving.”

She’s not wrong.

- Monika mentioned this in one of the comments, but the night that Elise lead the dining hall in siging “Twinkle twinkle” (then later screamed, “EVERYBODY, SING!”), she calmly states to our table that, “Daddy’s pepito is in his shorts”. To which no one responds, so she says it again, louder, “Daddy’s pepito is in his shorts!”, puts her arms up, then points right at me. Our good friend Tanya (Cash and Cal’s mom, and ship doctor), but just reacts by wisely smiling and nodding, so Elise helpfully tells her, “Only daddy has a pepito.”

(Other than blushing, the only thought a parent goes through at a moment like that is think what the other parents are thinking. And I was imagining something like, “What kind of parent calls it a ‘pepito’?”)

- Tanya, also pointed to her eyebrow and asked Elise what it was. Elise, excited, exclaimed, “That’s a mustache!” So I think we haven’t taught her body parts too well.

- Cash (2), and Cal (4), have their own room (and are like a little comedy troop – more on stories on putting them to bed later). So Tanya puts Cash down to sleep, then Monika and Elise of over to Tanya and Dave’s room across the hall to hang out.

Elise looks at Tanya and asks, “Where’s Cal?” Tanya says that he’s taking a nap.
A few minutes go by, and Elise, unbeknownst to the adults, had quietly scanned the entire room, and something didn’t make sense to her. She goes back to Tanya, and very pointedly asks, “Did you put him under the bed?”

- Every once in a while, when Elise sees a somewhat scantily-clad student, she goes up to them, cocks her head to the side, and asks, “Are you wearing a swimming suit?” The answer, so far, has always been no.

- Apparently, I always introduce myself the same way to students, by engaging in a conversation (usually initiated by Elise in some way), followed by me saying, “I’m Rico, by the way.” I know this because Elise says “I’m Rico, by the way” all the time now. To everybody. So now I’m totally self-conscious and try to vary the way I say it, like “Hello, my name is Rico,” at random spots in the conversation.

- And she really does repeat everything we say, and I mean everything. She was playing with Cash and Cal in the other cabin, and I called them on the phone from our cabin since I know she likes to talk on the phone. She picks up, and then, this is what she says, without a pause to breathe: “Hello? Hello? Can you hear me? Hold on. Ok, can you hear me now? How are you?!! It’s so good to talk to you?!!! I’m good!! Oh, can you hear me now? Hold on, let me put you on speakerphone. One sec. Ok, you’re on speaker. Is everything good?....”

This went on non-stop for several minutes. She even pretended to put a blue-tooth on at one point. Good times all around.

Alright, I’m feeling like I’m THAT parent, and these might not be that interesting. But I’m writing this as much for us as anyone else.

Gotta go set up for the next class, so more later…

P.S. For those of you who sailed in Fall 05, I’m really appreciating what Kevin Murphy did with his class. He really hit a grand slam out of the park.