Dad Entry #112

Megan was looking at something on my Xoom tablet. She said, "Daddy, it isn't stuff about me?" I said, "What?" She said, "I don't see stuff about me." I inquired further and discovered she was Googling herself. Ha! She had entered her name - "Megan Cox" - into the Google search field and was examining the results. She said, "I wanna find pictures of me, like when I was a baby!" Awesome. Michael's been Googling things lately (don't worry, he's always properly supervised) and apparently his little sister has caught on. Although, I suppose, not entirely... when you're only 6 you don't comprehend how big the world is. Then in school, maybe, you're led to believe our planet is expansive and diverse - and it is, of course, in many ways - before you circle back again, and question that, and recognize how, in other ways, it's not as big as you thought... or so it's been for me; I seem to alternate between those polar sentiments. I experience 'small world' moments, chance encounters, six degrees of separation, the human condition. Then I think of the volume of space at the deepest parts of our oceans, miles and miles below the surface; apparently there are even lifeforms there, eyeless fish, giant squids, enormous spider crabs (I learned this with Michael). Or I think why haven't I set foot on the African continent yet? Why haven't I been to India, or Brazil, or Fenway?

Michael is going to be Joe Mauer for Halloween. Not bad. A very relaxed, pure hitter.

Then there's Megan. Oh, Megan. A bride? Really? Can't that wait, Sweetie-heart, for, well, ever?!?!

Megan doesn't read much yet, only 'sight words' or little 'popcorn words' as they're taught in kindergarten. So when she 'reads' aloud to herself, she's aided by pictures and perhaps some memory (of an earlier adult reading), but otherwise it's imagination, improv, off-the-cuff. She's pretty good at it! She provides great meandering, colorful narration for each page, stories within stories superbly expressed. I shall hereby present to you a sterling example: Megan was reading a book about puppies and said, "She nestled him in warmness." That is a knockout, awesome sentence! Original, fluid, with an active verb, full of feeling but not too wordy, and it elicits a sort of sensory recognition or memory. Right?! It's a homerun, touch 'em all, Baby! I mean didn't just hearing that sentence make you feel warm and cozy? Even though I guess it's about a girl holding her puppy. Whatev. It's choice. The work of a master. My daughter! My lyricist, poet, wordsmith... my angel! I wish I could do that, like Megan, put words together so perfectly. I was just reminded of something, a bonus question: "It is so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up." What character? What car?

New Ralph Lauren Ad (except her clothes are from Target)

Dad Entry #111

I love to watch Megan sleep. Yeah, still; it hasn't changed. Will I feel this way forever? I've decided it isn't creepy. Her college roommates might disagree. Her husband? Well, my hope is he'll have a daughter of his own, he'll understand, he'll call and say, "Ok, she's sleepin', come on over and watch her for a few, then we'll have a beer." Perfect. Except, I'll wanna peak in on my granddaughter, too. Just for a minute. That'd be swell. Sounds crazy, sure, but why would I feel any differently about Megan 30 years from now? I'll always appreciate her in peaceful repose - won't I? - as one stares for a moment at a masterpiece of art, reflecting on its timeless beauty, marveling at the creative forces that somehow produced it. Am I getting ahead of myself? I mentioned a while back that Megan was so perfectly occupying a sweet-spot of cuteness. And I lamented my belief it would end soon; I envisioned it as more of a peak than a plateau. I was wrong. Megan hasn't exited any sweet-spot yet, even though she's six now, and she was three or four back then. Her skinny jeans, her questions and comments, her voice (when it's not whiny), anything at all that she utters, her pigeon-toed-ness, her little girl imagination and thought processes, her doll-playing, her drawings, her laugh, her skirts and shirts and shoes and books... everything about her is still pretty damn cute.

Michael went to his first NFL game last Sunday. Adrian Peterson scored three TDs for him in the first quarter. AP cuts quicker than anyone in the game; it's an impressive thing to see in person. The Vikings hosted the Arizona Cardinals at the Dome. Papa and Gramma have great seats, and it's the loudest sports venue I've ever been to, a sea of screaming purple. Michael and I agreed afterwards we're still Bears fans, but it was awesome. When they blare Led Zeppelin's 'Immigrant Song' - "I come from the land of the ice and snow!" - I wanna run onto the field and tackle someone. Or everyone! I'm not sure Michael was as goose-bumped as I was at various points and plays, but it was a critical first step in the process of full-on indoctrination. Michael plays football at school now with friends. I did too for many years. Life is good.

It is impossible for my children to brush their teeth without getting toothpaste all over the sink and surrounding countertop. The only uncertainty is whether it'll be a mess of old-school white paste, or globs and streaks of blue gel. We have both.

The kids came to Motorola yesterday for lunch. They were excited. Me too. They both have multiple cell phones I've given them, ones that are old or don't make calls reliably - fallout from product development and defect resolution efforts :) - but have functional cameras, camcorders, speakers, WiFi, touchscreens, sensors, and everything else, most importantly they're capable of running all the games / puzzles / apps the kids install from the Google Android Market. They know their whiz-bang devices were designed and developed where their dad works. I hang a picture over my desk that Michael colored and wrote on a few years ago, in first grade I think; he finished the sentence, "When I am older I hope to follow in the footsteps of 'Dad. He makes phones. He is nice to me.'"

And Her Sixth Year Arrives

As I flip through these photos, I am shocked that our little girl is turning six years old. How did that happen? How does she already have all these little friends? How is she old enough to need to navigate social situations that come from multiple friendships? But here we are. And she'll only keep growing. Her birthday party was at the pool...and it made her so happy! That's usually my goal. Unless she's being stubborn, and then my goal is to be more stubborn than her, regardless of how ridiculous the topic is or how miserable it makes her when I win. Did I just say that out loud?