Lions

I had no idea how arthritic my hands would feel the day after the cornrow debacle. I literally had to take two rounds of Aleve. But it paid off with the huge mane that resulted which Megan lo-o-o-ved.

Pictionary

Belated Christmasing photos...we had several rousing rounds of the old school pictionary, which the kids could not get enough of (until papa dished out the ice cream). Here is the Meg sequence, from hearing her word from Aunt G to the 'oh my goodness i can't draw THAT!' to the final execution. Uncle Jake had an uncanny way of guessing all of Megan's clues, regardless of how amoeba-like they looked. He'd shout 'Raking leaves!' and she would turn with a smile and say 'YES!" I am not sure what that could lead us to believe...Jake and Meg are kind of circling the same cerebral cortex?

Dad Entry #88

The kids and I watched the last episode - EVER! - of Hannah Montana. In the final scene, Hannah and her BFF! were at the airport together, about to leave for Paris for a year of excitement abroad - must be nice - rather than go straight to college. At the last second Hannah's best friend - I don't remember her name and thank goodness or I'd be disappointed in myself - decides she can't do it, she can't go, she wants to stay home and go to Stanford. It was a sad moment. I wasn't crushed exactly, but I wondered about Meg. Hannah and her friend embraced and said goodbye, and sappy music was playing, and naturally I assumed Megan was sad, about to cry probably, for sure in fact, so I felt a sudden need to console her. Megan was in the big chair next to me so I turned and said, "It's okay, Sweetheart, they're still best friends and they'll get to see each other again soon; this is a good thing really." Megan deadpanned, "It's just a movie, Dad."

I picked up Megan from preschool. The kids get about 10 minutes on the playground before they're lined up and released to the parents. Watching a bunch of 5-year-olds running around is fun. But later, for some reason, I had some crazy deep thoughts about the playground. Silly perhaps, but it's another metaphor for life it seems to me. I wondered if God views us - adults - this way as mostly we just run around full of emotion in life, spinning our wheels. We work and play. Occasionally we do something meaningful - maybe help a friend, face a fear - but mostly not. We might hurt ourselves here, or even each other, but to an observer - from the 'outside' - it's no big deal, everything's okay, lighthearted, unimportant, it's just a space to move around in and learn, fall and get up again, stretch, explore, until, well, we see it for what it is. Then preschool ends and we're off to kindergarten! Maybe the starter pistol is still echoing for us here. That was deep. I'm exhausted. Megan was so cute on the playground, climbing and running around all pigeon-toed in her high-heeled, knee-high boots. They're black patent leather. Fake leather, of course, from Target. Whatever, she looks like a Charlie's Angel, and thankfully she was impossibly agile like one in the heels that day; she never wiped out.

Dad Entry #87

Megan has big eyes and long eyelashes. She's gorgeous. But she has some beauty-related flaws. She gets food on her face, and snot around her nose. She wipes them on her sleeve. We'd prefer she use a napkin or Kleenex. She farts a lot. Surprisingly long, loud ones at times. She giggles kind of self-consciously afterward, at least, so that's good. Some of her outfits clash, but not in a pitiable, or even unstylish, way. It's more like, "Wow, leg warmers with sequined jeans and a tutu and big fuzzy slippers. Interesting. Creative. Bold! Comfort and warmth with panache. Voila!" Megan still brandishes a kind of whiny, or baby, or girl-about-to-swoon voice. Maybe it's multiple voices with multiple aims like sympathy, manipulation, permission, candy! Whatever the case, it fails to entrance Daddy, or sway Mommy, or generate a windfall of compassion or attention or whatever its purpose. It's just annoying.

I'm really happy Mary Ann suggested 'Grace' for Megan's middle name. I recall thinking it was a pleasant option, and I liked it, and we didn't have a better sounding idea, really. But now as I think of its meaning - as I age and roll with the ups and downs of life and consider, more deeply, the meaning of the word 'grace' - I'm so happy for its attachment to the little girl I often watch in amazement, this precious thing, because she started out so small and keeps growing and changing, or because she's so cute, or because she's so stubborn and defiant and dramatic sometimes I'm impressed by the effort.

My mom says a child is your heart walking around outside of your body. Sometimes it's wonderful; sometimes it's tough. Hearts are sensitive things, after all. I agree. Michael and Megan are certainly that, to me and Sara.

Megan saw me with my shirt off the other day and, referring to my chest presumably - I really hope it wasn't my shoulders or back - she said, "Daddy, why do you have hair on your body?" Without thinking much I answered, "Well, some boys do, because we're different than girls." I was satisfied but Megan wasn't; she said, "Why are boys different than girls?" The tide was pulling me into deep water here and I wasn't sure I could swim. I knew I didn't want to swim. I said, "There are a few reasons, but, oh, hey, let's go play Polly Pockets!"

Sara told me Megan wore a nude-colored leotard to gymnastics this week. Sara laughed and said, "You should see her, she looks like a skinny little naked thing running around the gym." I just don't know what to say about that.

Michael said he finished 2nd in the spelling bee at school. We aren't certain but we think this means he outlasted all but one of the eight to ten second graders who participated, only the best spellers from each class were eligible. He was undone by the word poetic. He put a 'k' on the end. We lavished him with compliments, well-deserved. He devours books. He's a smart dude, curious, sensitive, observant. We love him tons. But he farts too. Not as loud as Megan though.

Dad Entry #86

I am reading "The Road" by Cormac McCarthy. It's about a father and his young son. My bookmark is a picture of Michael. It's a tough book to get through; McCarthy is notoriously unpredictable - e.g. "No Country For Old Men" - so I'm holding my breath hoping the father can save his little boy.

Michael was selected to participate in the spelling bee at school. He said his teacher picked three people from his entire class. We're proud of him. Ever since the news, we've relentlessly peppered him with words to spell. Megan too. She asked him to spell 'Stickety-Dickety-Doo'. He nailed it. He isn't annoyed at all by our incessant drilling. We're not doing it because we're maniacal about his success in the spelling bee, it's just because we're, well, annoying. Michael is awesome. When I gush about Megan, or wear one of my two 'I love Megan' shirts, some people - especially my female relatives and friends - accuse me of loving Megan more than Michael. That, of course, is nonsense. Megan is cuter than a thousand puppies - there's no doubt about that - but much more stubborn and volatile and dramatic and likely to meltdown and tell me I'm the worst daddy ever. And when I first mentioned this minor criticism - 'worst daddy ever' - to Sara, she said, "Well, that's fitting, because she told me I'm the 'worst mommy ever' so she might as well have both for parents." Sara referred to Megan as 'our little tyrant' the other day. I nodded.

Michael asked, "What is an alibi?" After a moment of suspicion - what's with all the crime talk?! - we discussed it. Then I asked Michael, "Do you know what motive is? Michael immediately guessed - correctly - that it's related to the word motivation. Good man. Indeed, I explained that motive is the cause or reason for a person's actions, and it's considered, like alibis, when solving crimes. The hypothetical scenario we examined involved bank robbers. Megan was listening; she blurted, "Oh! Maybe bank robbers want more money!" Meggie catches on fast! She's right, obviously, although I was thinking of examples of criminal motive with a little more depth...

Christmas was terrific. The kids are really fortunate. I am really fortunate. A big thanks to family and friends for that.