Dad Entry #24

Megan is so sweet. If she drops something she says, “Sowwy, Dad.” Or if I drop something she says, “It’s okay, Dad.” Though, my favorite is still when she approaches, with hands in the pockets of her little blue jeans, and she says, “Hey Daddy, what-ya workin’?” I think Megan is in the sweet spot of cuteness right now. Three feet tall and putting sentences together in her sweet, little, high inflected voice. Of course, sometimes she says, “Go away, Daddy” and I don’t think that’s very cute at all.

Michael doesn’t like to have his toenails trimmed. Today, when Sara said he was due for a trim, he said, “Trimming is ridiculous. Trimming is NOT part of this world.” I guess he hasn’t fully suppressed the memories of Mommy drawing blood when trimming his nails as a baby.

Meggie still says, “Like an orca, like an orca,” when she’s eating or running around. It’s cute but it’s so, well, Michael. My little Megan has learned a lot from, and imitates, big brother Michael. I guess that’s okay, though I wish Michael was nicer to her. He still views her as an annoyance, mostly, and he’s very bristly and overprotective of all his things when Megan is near. “No, MAY-GAN!” he says. He shouldn’t scold her in the first place. But the condescension in his voice is what really what makes our skin crawl. Yep, Michael doesn’t share or care for Megs like Sara and I want him to. Oh well, other parents advise us that sibling rivalry and jealousy – especially at this age – are common. “Yeah, we had to deal with that,” they say while rolling eyes and smiling, “But just wait, some day they’ll look after each other. Michael will take pleasure in protecting her and putting a scare in younger boys that show interest in her or, even worse, are mean to her.” I hope so. We continue to work on the way Michael treats Megan day after day after day after day after day after day...we are persistent. And we are still waiting for consistent, noticeable progress.

The other day Michael was drawing on his white board and told me, “Daddy, I’m drawing Jupiter’s moon. It has a lot of volcanoes on it.” Interesting. I didn’t know that. To date, around 700 species of dinosaurs have been named. Michael has studied every one of them. Some of the names are unpronounceable to non-scientifically minded or trained people. Indeed, they are no problem for Michael. He isn’t even in kindergarten yet but it seems he can recognize and flawlessly pronounce the name of every dinosaur that ever lived. And yes, like any arrogant academian, he will eagerly – almost gleefully – correct someone who attempts to pronounce – and subsequently butchers – a species name like Pachycephalasaurus or Deinonychus or Sinosauropteryx. Perhaps Megan will imitate Michael’s inquisitiveness and capacity to learn. And capacity to verbalize and communicate. But not his capacity to manipulate or argue pretty please. Yes, Megan will learn a great deal from Michael like all of us younger siblings learned from our older siblings. (Thanks, Jen. Jenny did tons for me. No question. Those of us who are younger siblings are lucky to have our older counterparts).

So Michael appears to enjoy scholastic exercise more than physical exertion or challenge. Michael prefers not to swim alone or get dressed by himself. Megan, on the other hand, insists on doing such things unassisted. She is fond of saying, “Do it self,” when anyone tries to help her with anything. And she will run and jump into an empty swimming pool without fear. Contrast that with Michael who agonizes before going down a slide at the park. Michael will actually argue that he can’t do something. He’ll sit and frown and sigh loudly with one leg in his pants, for example, certain that he needs help, refusing to continue trying without it. Of course, with proper instruction and encouragement he can, and will, finish putting on his pants. Alone, that is, without any physical help. But he is frustrated much quicker by physical challenges than intellectual ones. Oh well, we all have strengths and preferences and so on. And we all develop different skills and different areas of our lives at varying rates. Amen. Live and learn. Or, as a song by Limp Bizkit puts it, “Life is a lesson, you learn it when you’re through.” I think that kind of says what I mean, although Limp Bizkit is pretty wild and crazy and profane. I really ought to quote Ben Franklin or Lincoln or Churchill or Socrates, instead.

I realize two things. Number 1: This is a long entry. Sorry. If you’re still reading, thank you, you are the only one, thanks for your interest and support, the Cox family loves you! Number 2: I know I haven’t been very kind to Michael in this entry. So let me tell you something: Michael is the greatest thing that’s happened in the last one hundred years since the Cubs won a World Series in 1908. And, while we’re on the subject of baseball, let me tell you something else: Michael is a good hitter. He’s been hitting off his tee in the basement a lot lately. Thanks to Papa John for making the tee. Michael is making good use and almost killed me one time already with a rocket he crushed right at me. I couldn’t get my hands up or out of the way fast enough (I was only about ten feet away) and the hard, solid plastic ball left a perfectly round, nasty, stinging welt on my chest. Awesome! It was good pain!