Dad Entry #134

I’m in China again. Before I left we enjoyed an amazing day at the farm where Kirby and Diane have horses. Megan rode Doc all over the place. I think she's ready for a lasso, or a pair of shootin' irons, matching colt six-guns maybe. Or not. For sure, she's becoming a relaxed and confident rider thanks to generous guidance from Kirby. Michael and I fished the pond. We muscled several largemouth to shore. "Big Daddy Bass" is what Michael calls them. Sounds perfectly redneck to me. I love it. Mego caught some fish too, and tended to the minnows. She grabs them with her hands and holds them, and bless their little hearts because they are surely traumatized by all her well-intentioned handling. Of course, then she gives them to me for a stabbing and skewering on a hook so they can be eaten by bigger fish. Clearly Megan's not the one who really traumatizes them. We are blind to our own flaws :)

Michael batted 3rd in his last baseball game. He batted 2nd in the game before and drove two balls into the outfield. Launching the ball over the infield is sort of herculean in Michael’s nine-year-old league. What I'm most excited about, however, is that he’s confident and wants to play; he wants to bat; he wants to hit; this is a bit of a different disposition than he possessed last year.

Megan likes to sleep with photos of family members. At any given bedtime, she might select - along with her butterfly pillow and a few stuffed animals - a picture of a loved one to nestle while drifting off. Seriously. It's a very sweet gesture. Sometimes the pictures are framed though, and I worry about her sleeping with glass. I need to buy some plastic frames.

The actress Zoe Saldano, in an interview, described her childhood self as a "feminine tomboy." She said, "I had my plastic swords, my ninja stars - but I still wore lipstick." I kind of hope Megan is this way. So far, so good. Mego likes to pet minnows and collect baseball cards (of which she has a modest assortment but one that she thoughtfully arranges and straightens in nine-pocket trading card pages in her Chicago Cubs binder). There really ought to be an international holiday celebrating her cuteness. Parties, fireworks, gift-giving, you name it. Worldwide. And hors d'oeuvres. I love hors d'oeuvres. Anyway, yes, she has some tomboy tendencies but she loves dresses and accessories (jewelry, scarves, hair-thingies, gaudy shoes, bulging handbags with random, completely non-utilitarian objects spilling out with every jostle). I suppose her dirty toes are tomboy-ish, also. As is the near perpetuity of residual food on a lip or cheek. That reminds me: I miss the days when shoes were put on the wrong feet. More than 50% of the time, as I recall, which was puzzling to me. Clearly I wasn't the only one puzzled. Speaking of how smart my kids are... they both had great report cards. They both are smart. Sara and I are pleased with their performances in school. We rewarded them with dinner at Heng Wing, where the Mongolian beef is heavenly and massively over-portioned. And apparently the Fried Won Tons aren't bad; Megan eats them by the dozen. Afterwards, we were all stuffed. We were also extremely happy and positively comatose. Although Megan - who it seems can stubbornly go long periods without eating if only presented with unspectacular options - still asked for dessert. Go figure.

Zooboomafoo

Last week the kids and I went to the zoo to see the Kratt Brothers of Wild Kratts fame. There were a zillion people there and it was a zillion degrees...a perfect combination! It was pretty cool to see the guys we watch on tv up so close. Megan thinks their hair is grey-er in real life.

We also got to see the polar bear arise from his lazing and dive in for a swim, and we spotted the wolves in their really big enclosure that usually makes sightings impossible. We saw the baby aardvark, Willie, who was cute and almost as big as his mom at 5 months old. We walked through the bat room where all the bats are loose...eek. We petted stingrays in Stingray Bay and searched for all the butterflies in the butterfly garden. We only made it through half the zoo, but we did have ice cream, so we called the day a success.

Dad Entry #133

Megan has jewelry in her ears now. She's very deliberate and meticulous about cleaning her new piercings. We helped her the first few days but now she does it on her own. The cleaning steps, as I remember them, are as follows: 1) The disinfectant solution is applied to the lobe very liberally, to the point of dripping all over the place, or accusations of carelessness, incompetence, and laziness may surface and be directed at the helper. A cotton pad is the best instrument for application. Pray to God you have cotton balls laying around if the pads are used up. 2) Once wetted with solution, each earring shall be twisted three times in each ear, "In both directions, Dad! No, you didn't spin it the other way yet!" 3) The twisting is followed by three pushes forward, then three pushes backward. This is difficult since Megan's earlobes are tiny and her earrings, minuscule. Big ones can wait. 4) Perhaps most importantly, cleanings shall be undertaken three times a day. Without exception! .... Ahh, I shouldn't poke fun, since we're actually very happy Megan's being so responsible. No skipped cleanings, no shortcuts. Good girl. I must add, however, the earrings do nothing to enhance her beauty; she's unalterably perfect already, of course.

Megan, in a moment of irrepressible pride after her trip to Claire's, said, "Michael, you should get your ears pierced." Michael said, "No, I don't want to." Megan said, "But people would think you're cool." Michael said, even more flatly this time, "I don't want my ears pierced." I decided to chime in, "Yeah, Mego, most boys don't wear earrings." Megan said, "Justin Beiber does." I changed the subject.

Megan asks questions like, "Daddy, will I get presents on Michael's birthday?"

The kids lost their great-grandfather, Papa Byard. They knew him well. I wondered how they'd react at his services. They didn't cry. I did, but that didn't seem to bother them either. Emotion, and sadness, are part of life. They know this; they're children. I hope they never forget, or try to repress it. They were mostly happy that Papa Byard would see Belle in heaven. Beller-Feller! Belle was the golden retriever my parents had until last year. I told the kids that Papa would see other dogs he knew, also. And he'd get to see his mother again (who he lost when he was a boy), and his father, and his daughter (Aunt Denise), and all his family and friends and loved ones who went before him. I think the kids understood. Papa Mike eulogized his dad. It was awesome. Funny, touching, a great tribute. I was on the hairy edge already when it occurred to me, watching my father speaking and recollecting and pausing, with his father laying behind him, that it would be Michael standing there someday. And me in the casket. As I said before, it's part of life, and life is good. But these thoughts were not very stabilizing; I said goodbye to composure for a few minutes.

Hitter

Random Adorableness

These kids are so cute. I swear. They do funny, darling, infuriating things constantly. They are such cool little people and I really do look forward to finding out who they will become. Some days they make me think this experiment in child-raising will be a smashing success in the end, other days I think we're going to crash and burn. I have a notebook on my desk with a page that says MUST NOT FORGET. These are the kinds of things that end up on this list:

• Megan is always messing with what she calls a "button" on her lips. She has dry lips often (yes, I try to help, to no apparent avail) and she gets these little patches of hard skin on her lips that she likes pushing on, like the drink selection buttons on the top of a take out soft drink cup.

• Michael and his "swingy thingies." I don't know if I could ever forget this...I have taken a few videos in order to avoid that. Michael's most effective calming/coping mechanism: swinging little lego creations in front of his face really fast, making explosion-like noises. In his mind, I think he is playing out an attack or a war or something, but he uses it to just relax. It's awesome.

• Michael and I sniff each other. Its like a primal display of affection. We each sniff around the others nose. I know it's weird, but we like it. It makes us laugh.

• Megan constantly organizes her bathroom stuff. She has an impressive amount of things she requires on her side of the sink, and she loves to spend time in there, fitting it all together like an efficient puzzle. It nearly always leaves a fine layer of glitter on the entire counter when she does this.

• Megan calls boogers "buggers."

• When he is doing something mindless, like watching the thousandth episode of River Monsters, Michael does a strange thing with his face. He squeezes his cheeks between his thumb and last three fingers, and uses his index finger to pop his upper lip in and out. He does it all the time.

• Megan has re-named her "front bottom" her "peanut." I almost died laughing when she said it the first time.

• The white roses Dan gave Meg after her first ballet recital were hands down the most beautiful roses I have ever seen. They opened up like they were working for a magazine, not a touch of browning or wilting on any of them. The spots where I had pulled off leaves to arrange them in a vase began to sprout new growth. I have never seen anything like it. Totally note-worthy.

• Megan wants me to "tickle" her always. Always. Tickling is when you very lightly run your fingers over her back or arms or legs. She cannot get enough of it. Michael prefers scratching.