Report

After Michaels first day of school, I asked him how it went.

Mommy: What did you do there?
Michael: I don't remember.
Mommy: You JUST left, and you don't remember? I am worried about your memory.
Michael: I remember. She just bossed us around to do a bunch of stuff.

Meet the Teacher

Michael has his first real day of school tomorrow, but today was 'Meet the Teacher' day. He was quite nervous, but while we were there he decided it was really fun. His teacher, Mrs. Kravitz, was super nice, too. Believe it or not, we had HOMEWORK. Ugh. Add it to the list.

Yes, Baby. He Can.

Tonight while I was putting Michael to bed, I talked to him about our Aunt Maxine, who he loves. She has been very sick and probably won't be with us much longer and I was trying to explain to him that he won't see her again, but that we can always love her. He thought about that for awhile and asked, "What is heaven like, mommy?" I told him that I didn't know, that we don't get to know until after we die, but that I imagine it is the nicest place that we could possibly think of. He thought about that and then asked, "Mommy, can God fly?" To which I answered, "Well, I bet he can, yes. I think he can do anything." Michael looked at me hard with a furrowed brow, like I might be a little crazy. He then asked incredulously, "Can he do a back flip?"

Dad Entry #32

Megan is a pacifier connoisseur. The other day I grabbed a ‘paci’ out of the cabinet and she complained about the color (it was blue; she prefers pink). Then, after one taste, she grimaced and said, “It has a crack.” It did, in fact, have some holes where she’d bitten through it. She’s also rejected paci’s because of a brushed, matte finish on the tip that changes the texture. She prefers the smooth-tipped variety. These are the details that can ruin an otherwise familiar, satisfying experience. We’ve compared the paci habit to smoking before, and now, with her connoisseurship in full swing – and the paci about to go away for good, she only gets one at nap and bedtime now – the parallels to smoking are more obvious than ever. Smokers have preferences too, their brand, package type (box / hard pack / soft pack), and other options like lights, ultra-lights, mediums, menthols and 100’s. Does anybody smoke unfiltered anymore? The variables, the recipe, have to come together just so. There’s a ritual and, of course, the addicted need the fix they crave. Another similarity I noticed: Megan handles paci’s with amazing dexterity now. When she first gets one, there’s an urgency perhaps, not to mention countless repetitions behind her. If she pops one in her mouth and it’s rotated or askew she rights it instantly, snapping it into place with her lips and a little suction. Yep, same as a smoker on that score. I’ve seen smokers light cigarettes in windstorms. Confidently. With their last match. No problem even as swirling, high winds are scattering debris around them. Steady as can be they flip out a match, strike it in cupped hands, move the cigarette tip into the flame, inhale. And they do this without breaking eye contact with you while you’re talking. Impressive.

We went to the horse farm again. Michael is a regular Lone Ranger now. He will likely be too big to ride in the Derby some day (when I imagine an adult Michael with other jockeys, Will Ferrell in the movie ‘Elf’ comes to mind). But Michael is quite comfy on animals that, frankly, scare me they are so powerful. Next we’ll teach him how to shoot a Winchester Repeater while on horseback, or maybe do a little calf roping. He could join the rodeo. Or lead a posse. I’ll join. I bet vigilantism is back in vogue because of all the superhero movies in recent years. Of course, Michael’s crew would be tougher than Billy the Kid’s Regulators in the Lincoln County War. Although the theme at the horse farm is distinctly ‘Tombstone’ and not ‘Lincoln County’ since Diane and Kirby’s horses are named Wyatt and Doc.

The Newest Obsession

Lego® fever has gripped our house with a fervor. And hand in hand with that, Star Wars. Michael has become quite the creative battle station builder. From two vantage points (please note impaled alien):

She Bit His Ass

Today we went to lunch with our friends Stacy and Charlie at Steak 'n Shake, which was nice to begin with but even nicer when the manager comped our meal due to the few hundred ants we found under our table noshing on a french fry.

When we got home, I told the kids to go wash hands while I put things away. Shortly after that I heard silence, then a scream, then crying. I came to the kitchen where Michael was sobbing and standing on the stool in front of the sink with Megan loitering nearby looking guilty. I asked Michael what had happened...if Meg had hit him. He choked out, "She....she....she BIT me!" When I asked where, he pointed to his tush, where I did in fact find teeth marks.

I have been sitting here for a full minute trying to figure out how to end that story, but I find myself unable to say anything else about it.

Rocking with Dinosaurs

A girlfriend of mine hooked me and Michael up with tickets to Walking with Dinosaurs. It became a little date-day for the two of us. We started at Spunky Dunkers, which is (no joke) the local donut haunt. Michael took one bite of his chocolate long john and said, "MOM! My tooth is coming out!" While the tooth did not let go completely, it is in fact, barely hanging on. So number three comes on the heels of losing number two.

We went downtown to my old neighborhood, Wicker Park, which has gotten over-the-top cool. We stopped at the farmers market and the great park they built for the kiddos (finally...it was a hazard to life and limb when I lived there). Then we headed to the United Center for the show. We had amazing seats, right up front. The dinosaurs were unbelievably lifelike (we can only assume) and Michael asked several times if I was sure they were not real. He didn't seem too frightened, except for one point when the T-Rex stood looking at all of us for awhile...he screamed, "He thinks we're FOOD!"

Speaking of which, we finished up the afternoon with a stop at Costello's in Roscoe Village, one of the very best sandwich shops ever. Michael was thrilled that we had pigeons eating scraps from right under our feet. And with the cookie he didn't know came with his sandwich. A sweet ending to a perfect date.

Clean Bill

The docs called today and the EEG was completely normal. For those of you that did not know, Megan has had two seizures recently, which we are fairly certain are directly related to being mowed down by Michael on his big wheel (accident!) and hitting her little baby head on the pavement.

So the course of action is...drum roll please...wait. That's right, wait and see if it happens again, at which point we will embark on a medical mystery tour of MRIs and cat scans and more wires and sedatives. Hopefully the seizure road ends here.

EEK! It's EEG Girl!

So Megan was a CHAMP. She stayed awake all night with no real moments of fading. Amazing. At about 5 am, we hit the Dunkin' Donuts and Walgreens to browse. She got a Cars sticker book and was quite content. She thought it was so neat to be up all night...but the promise of a nap at the hospital was so alluring that she actually wanted to go there before the donut shop! Once we arrived (and took a ride on a sweet little cart like the airports have), we got her all hooked up 'á la WALL•E' (to make it less intimidating) and she fell asleep about five minutes post light-dimming. Good girl. And now she's back to sleep, hopefully for several hours. Results pending.

It is 2:09 am...

and Megan and I have been awake for an hour and a half! We're up for the night of no-sleep EEG prep. Right now, Meg is eating grapes and cinnamon toast and playing with a stacking toy. Thought everyone might want to join in on the fun. If we're both awake (and we better be) I'll try to post again later to show how pathetic we look. This is the BEST NIGHT EVER.