Dad Entry #43

My apologies at the beginning here, this is very long. But once again I’ve let months slip away without recording a word. A while back the kids visited Kansas City for two weeks. We talked on the phone a lot but hearing Megan’s voice and not being able to smother her was tough. While she was gone I spent a few minutes trying to describe her. Here are some things I wrote down: Megan is majestically beautiful, even when she has crusties on her face. Her eyes are so big and clear. Her voice sweet. Her mini-shoes, jeans, sweaters, swimsuits, and summer dresses… so cute and small. Her tiny painted nails. Her hugs, laughter, tears. Her snot. When she wakes up and says, “I have a froat,” which means she has a ‘sore throat’ and maybe a cold brewing. When she clings to me in the close presence of strangers – well, that is inexpressible. To be so needed and trusted by something so precious (to me). I think those moments give me the strongest and rawest feeling of purpose I’ve ever experienced. ‘Fulfilling’ is a good word. Many times Sara and I have used ‘yummy’ to describe an especially satisfying, snuggly moment with Meggie. Yep, she’s yummy. She was absurdly adorable at the ages of one and two. She still is at three. I can’t believe, very soon, she’ll be four! Not as diminutive but just as exquisite. My princess. My heiress. She is compassionate, visibly moved when someone else is hurt or upset. She’s a reader and puzzle-doer, and, although to me it seems a bit paradoxical, she is also a daredevil. I mean she has an analytical, deliberate side to her (Megan the focused puzzle-doer), but also a vivacious, audacious streak (Megan the fearless, reckless jumper and climber). Peg-Peg, as Sara often calls her, is many other things, too. An artist and athlete and dancer and singer and scholar. She loves her stickers, markers, play-doh, and paint (and scissors, of course, every kid loves scissors!). She loves to play ball and ride her little pink bike wearing her ridiculously cute pink helmet. She hollers, “Louder, Daddy,” from the backseat and then, her face contorted like a rock star’s, passionately sings duets with Sheryl Crow, Bon Jovi, and Boy George as “Soak up the Sun”, “Livin’ on a Prayer”, and “Karma Chameleon” are blasted out of my car speakers. And now she loves to write letters, especially M’s. And she will sit and go through deck after deck of flash cards. Way beyond any typical attention span for her age. She says which letter a word or picture on a card begins with, among other games. If I were to mention a flaw, or as we call them at work, an ‘opportunity’… well, Megan can be shamelessly dramatic. My little diva. She is gorgeous though. That fits. A daredevil diva. Megan is not a full throttle tantrum-thrower but she might indignantly sink to and sprawl on the kitchen floor as if flabbergasted by a simple order like, “Put your books away and put your shoes on Megan, we have to leave now.” Megan’s a pretty finicky eater, a bit of a manipulator (yes I am putty in her hands, but not always!), although less exploitive than Michael (maybe because of the age difference); she’s not too much of a rabble-rouser or provocateur (except occasionally when she feels like annoying Michael for some reason), sometimes moody (but who isn’t?), mostly sweet, at times spiteful, sometimes soft and whispering, sometimes petulant and clamorous (when the most miniscule of requests is denied!), and, without a doubt, Megan can be impressively stubborn. This will help her in some areas of life and hurt her in others (oh well, life is a lesson). She is vivacious, audacious, studious, vigorous, pertinacious, gorgeous, and yes, to me, precious. And – though it doesn’t fit with my silly word game above, it is VERY important – she is compassionate. I have observed a kind of genuine empathy in Megan, and I pray it isn’t taken from her by the rigors of life, drowned out by noise, or drained or dulled by her own striving and struggles, of which we all have plenty. I don’t want her to be desensitized, and yet I don’t want her to be too sensitive; I want her to be tough. Oh geez, welcome to life and the challenges of balance and harmony and competing ideas and conflicting goals (not to mention difficult people and hard situations, although those two are our best teachers). Regarding this empathy many little girls seem to possess (and one or two boys, also), there is so much activity and noise around them, so many ups and downs accumulate, maybe they quit noticing when someone else is crying. Sorry, I digressed. This is already too long. But mostly I have described Megan today. I love her. Next entry: Michael.