Michael was pretty great over Christmas. I don't think it's overstate-able. I'm not exaggerating when I say he was perfectly fun, polite, positive, active, thoughtful, grateful... in a word, awesome. It's not everyday a man feels pride when compared to an 8-year-old, but I'm proud when my mom / Grandma Barb says, "He's like you, Dan." We both have flaws, but I know my heart's big and in the right place, and his is too. He has such a refreshingly sanguine disposition. I did have a thought regarding Christmas, though.... does Megan deserve some credit for this rose-colored recollection of Michael? Does an angel look more like an angel next to someone who is not? My sweetheart wasn't entirely sweet. Overall, she was a jewel - of course - but she had some all-too-public issues with crabbiness and gift-receiving-etiquette-and-gratitude. It's true, we had one of those moments. She didn't like one of her presents and protested. She didn't hold back much. It was a bit shocking. I had to pick my jaw off the floor and whisk her away for a brusque one-way conversation. She was exhausted, and over-excited, sure, but those excuses are inadequate. I would still, however, summarize Christmas 2011 this way: my kids were terrific and I'm very grateful for them and we had a fantastic holiday. But... was I rooting for some random rotten kid to throw a tantrum in church while Megan sat there beautifully quiet and cherublike? Absolutely! And did I feel bad when Megan saw her presents from Santa and blurted, "He didn't bring me coal!" No! I did not! Megan knew she'd screwed up the night before - and she was scolded for it - despite some continued defiance. She's a stubborn little thing. I hope that strength is always focused in a positive direction. If so, it will serve her well.
Megan said, "Daddy, you make the best frozen waffles!" Talk about proud moments in my life. My cooking skills are improving - with recipes that don't involve anything frozen - but this dubious praise reminded me I'm still no Jamie Oliver.
We were talking about the kids' organized activities the other day. I asked Megan if she wants to play T-ball again. She said, "No." I said, "Why not?" She said, "I tried it and I didn't like it." I said, "But it looked like you enjoyed it, Honey." She said, "Yes, but I remember that time I sweated." Oh dear....
I am struggling a little now with having one of each, a son and a daughter, a boy and a girl. I love it - pretty sure that's obvious - but it presents challenges. Michael doesn't like Barbies; Megan doesn't love open gym. Megan wants a bedtime story about puppies; Michael wants one about pirates. And so on. Megan's not a fan of Clone Wars; Michael doesn't like Mickey Mouse. (I think it's cute Meg still likes Mickey's Playhouse; probably because it's interactive and musical.) And apparently Megan doesn't like to sweat.
Yesterday, Michael called Megan 'an insignificant little child'. Yikes. So Megan called Michael 'dumb'. Simple, but effective. It was a tough bout to score, but I ruled it a draw. As usual, I was impressed with Michael's use of vocabulary. And he wields condescension with a surgeon's precision. His word-choice was notable, but so was his delivery, equal parts contentious and dismissive. Well done. As for Megan's response, upon further examination I found it less simple than at first glance. Her uncaring, cheerful aloofness was perhaps very calculated, and strenuously maintained, despite the sting of Michael's opening volley. See, Megan is not one to remain composed during emotional moments without effort. And Megan's cuter than a box full of kittens. There's that. So I deemed the performances of both combatants exceptional. Therefore, a draw.
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