Monday, February 15, 2010
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Dad Entry #59
Michael is so comfortable in briefs, only briefs – in nothing but his underwear – he is destined to work for Calvin Klein. Or maybe he's regressing to a previous life (caveman / loincloth).
Meggie was pinching the skin on the back of her leg, kind of above her calf. She said, "Daddy, did you know it's squishy behind your knee?" The revelatory things we learn from our kids. Amazing discoveries! Megan also told me the story of the Titanic. She said, "Somebody poked a hole in it."
This morning Megan said, "I just don't know why boys don't like pink." She sounded really troubled by this huge disconnect. How could anyone not like pink?!?! I understand where she's coming from. I don't know why girls don't like UFC. Or football. Or action movies. It makes no sense. Actually, I know a few girls who like football. I told Megan that for some reason most boys prefer blue, or green. I told her boys can be crazy and unpredictable. And I added, "Almost as much as girls." Just kidding.
Michael and I had a 'light saber battle'. Megan joined in. She said, "I am Cinderella and I have a gun!" (She had a full princess get-up on – dress, shoes, tiara, jewels – and was aiming a nerf-ball shooter.) She shot me. Three times. Then Michael rapped my knuckles with his light saber. They won.
I watched some Larry King interviews of past U.S. Presidents. At one point, he talked with Bush 41 (the dad, George H. W. Bush) about losing his daughter. I didn't know this about the Bush's. Big tears welled up in the former President's eyes. His chin quivered. She was 4 years old when they lost her to leukemia. I fought back tears myself. I also resisted a strong urge to go upstairs and lift my sleeping Megan out of her bed and just hold her for a while.
Meggie was pinching the skin on the back of her leg, kind of above her calf. She said, "Daddy, did you know it's squishy behind your knee?" The revelatory things we learn from our kids. Amazing discoveries! Megan also told me the story of the Titanic. She said, "Somebody poked a hole in it."
This morning Megan said, "I just don't know why boys don't like pink." She sounded really troubled by this huge disconnect. How could anyone not like pink?!?! I understand where she's coming from. I don't know why girls don't like UFC. Or football. Or action movies. It makes no sense. Actually, I know a few girls who like football. I told Megan that for some reason most boys prefer blue, or green. I told her boys can be crazy and unpredictable. And I added, "Almost as much as girls." Just kidding.
Michael and I had a 'light saber battle'. Megan joined in. She said, "I am Cinderella and I have a gun!" (She had a full princess get-up on – dress, shoes, tiara, jewels – and was aiming a nerf-ball shooter.) She shot me. Three times. Then Michael rapped my knuckles with his light saber. They won.
I watched some Larry King interviews of past U.S. Presidents. At one point, he talked with Bush 41 (the dad, George H. W. Bush) about losing his daughter. I didn't know this about the Bush's. Big tears welled up in the former President's eyes. His chin quivered. She was 4 years old when they lost her to leukemia. I fought back tears myself. I also resisted a strong urge to go upstairs and lift my sleeping Megan out of her bed and just hold her for a while.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Dad Entry #58
Meggie helped me build a shelf. I ripped the boards in the garage while the kids 'headed for cover'. The table saw is pretty loud. It scares me too. I wear glasses and am super careful, but it still kicked a piece of board at me once at about 500 mph. It woulda bloodied my face but luckily I took it in the chest. So I told the kids to 'run for cover' (in the house) because they were playing in the garage. They thought it a fun game, shouting the alarm to each other, "Run for cover!!", then running inside and hiding somewhere each time I flipped on the saw. Then Megan screwed all of the boards together with my Dewalt. I started the screws but she finished them, pulling the trigger on the drill and sending them into the wood. She was tentative at first, but then started over-driving them, sinking them too far, so I had to bridle in her effort. She was excited. My little carpenter. Then she played with the tape measure. She said, "Let's see how long my body is with this measuring thing." They are both growing like weeds.
It's no secret that brothers and sisters bark at each other a lot, and accuse, correct, and taddle on each other. Sadly, my children are no different. So it's cute when they actually have a cooperative and happy play session. Together. Like today, they were co-conspirators. They were hiding in the low double cabinet, waiting to scare me. Of course, I had to pretend I didn't see them, then eventually go over to the closed cabinet (inside of which I could hear giddy whispers), open it, and feign terror when they both hollered and 'surprised' me.
I counted Megan's Barbie's. She has 14 if you include the 2 Ariel Mermaid Barbie's by the tub. 14! I think Jenny (my sister) had 4 or 5. I think Sara and Gretchen had 7 or 8 between them. And I bet my mom only had 1.5 (the half being a hand-me-down missing a leg or maybe her hair - sheared off by a demented, or just mean, brother). We have not given Megan any of her Barbie's. They are gifts, and some are, in fact, hand-me-downs too, but still.... 14! Don't get me wrong, Sara and I are grateful for the generosity of family and friends. What interests me, though, is the trend. How many Barbie's will Megan's daughter have? Enough to play Barbie chess (32)? Enough to diagram football plays (22)? The number of Barbie's appears to double, at least, every genereration. Trends discussed at work are typically graphed, as well.
Meg-Pie really likes what she calls 'smelly pictures'. They're the perfume and cologne adds in magazines that have dried samples inside fold-overs.
The kids had a fight the other day. Sara interrupted it and Michael said, "She was being mean." Sara said, "Okay, but were you being mean to her also?" Michael answered, "Well, I guess. Well then... well then I just hate both of us!" This puzzled Meggie. She said, "You hate you?" Michael's self-deprecating or self-implicating comment was uncharacteristic you might say. It surprised us all. They usually play the blame game. It was funny. "You hate you?" We calmed them both down and maybe talked about how we really shouldn't 'hate' anything.
Megan was wearing her leopard print fleece pants the other day. I told her, "Mego, I love those pants, they're my favorite." She frowned and said, "Well you can't have them, they're too small, they're only medium, not 20-size. Daddy, you're like 20-size." I laughed. Not just because she thought the compliment meant I wanted her pants, but at her way of expressing 'big'. Although, maybe that actually makes sense, maybe if I tried on a dress I'd be a size 20.
It's no secret that brothers and sisters bark at each other a lot, and accuse, correct, and taddle on each other. Sadly, my children are no different. So it's cute when they actually have a cooperative and happy play session. Together. Like today, they were co-conspirators. They were hiding in the low double cabinet, waiting to scare me. Of course, I had to pretend I didn't see them, then eventually go over to the closed cabinet (inside of which I could hear giddy whispers), open it, and feign terror when they both hollered and 'surprised' me.
I counted Megan's Barbie's. She has 14 if you include the 2 Ariel Mermaid Barbie's by the tub. 14! I think Jenny (my sister) had 4 or 5. I think Sara and Gretchen had 7 or 8 between them. And I bet my mom only had 1.5 (the half being a hand-me-down missing a leg or maybe her hair - sheared off by a demented, or just mean, brother). We have not given Megan any of her Barbie's. They are gifts, and some are, in fact, hand-me-downs too, but still.... 14! Don't get me wrong, Sara and I are grateful for the generosity of family and friends. What interests me, though, is the trend. How many Barbie's will Megan's daughter have? Enough to play Barbie chess (32)? Enough to diagram football plays (22)? The number of Barbie's appears to double, at least, every genereration. Trends discussed at work are typically graphed, as well.
Meg-Pie really likes what she calls 'smelly pictures'. They're the perfume and cologne adds in magazines that have dried samples inside fold-overs.
The kids had a fight the other day. Sara interrupted it and Michael said, "She was being mean." Sara said, "Okay, but were you being mean to her also?" Michael answered, "Well, I guess. Well then... well then I just hate both of us!" This puzzled Meggie. She said, "You hate you?" Michael's self-deprecating or self-implicating comment was uncharacteristic you might say. It surprised us all. They usually play the blame game. It was funny. "You hate you?" We calmed them both down and maybe talked about how we really shouldn't 'hate' anything.
Megan was wearing her leopard print fleece pants the other day. I told her, "Mego, I love those pants, they're my favorite." She frowned and said, "Well you can't have them, they're too small, they're only medium, not 20-size. Daddy, you're like 20-size." I laughed. Not just because she thought the compliment meant I wanted her pants, but at her way of expressing 'big'. Although, maybe that actually makes sense, maybe if I tried on a dress I'd be a size 20.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
Dad Entry #57
We went sledding twice last weekend. For the record, we didn’t go small. Picabo Street would’ve wiped out on this hill. It was steep. And fast. The kids found it a bit scary at first and would only go with an adult. Sara and I were eager to be their copilots. For a couple of reasons. First of all, we like sledding too. And second, well, let me explain: on Saturday, a pair of girls showed up and took off down the hill together. They spun out and flipped over badly on their first run. One of the girls cried, said she couldn’t move her arm, and was immediately escorted home – or to the ER – by her mother. On Sunday, we arrived to find the EMT’s there with an ambulance and fire truck. A girl had crashed and then jettisoned her lunch; I heard an EMT comment to his colleagues he suspected concussion or abdominal trauma. Yeah, most of the hill was fast, so we kept adult arms tightly wrapped around Megan or Michael. But, eventually, Michael wanted to go by himself. He survived (we sent him down a gentler slope). That was on Saturday. On Sunday – no doubt after 24 hours of psyching herself up – Megan gave it a shot, too. I know she was thinking about crossing ‘solo sled run’ off of her ‘daring to-do list’ because of what she said right after she finished. I was there to ‘catch her’ at the bottom of the hill. She popped up and said, “This summer I’m gonna jump off the diving board now and Aunt Gretchen will be proud of me.” Yes she will! With 'sledding' checked off – and with a kind of renewed or validated sense of courage – Meg had immediately moved to her next challenge. Good girl. Get after that list! I told Papa Mike all of this, including the injuries, and he commented that when they were kids, they had those old-school sleds with steel runners. Of course, the picture he painted involved bloody lacerations and lost limbs. No doubt, like everything else – except for little things like the pursuit of happiness and fulfillment – sledding was tougher then too.
Megan is suddenly fond of the word ‘expert’. While reading a book with a butterfly in it, she blurted, "I am an expert about butterflies." Then she paused and added, "And Michael is an expert about Star Wars." I thought it funny she said 'an expert about' instead of 'an expert on'. Who knows, maybe she's correct, and the way I say it is wrong. Regardless, I love to hear very young people feeling their way around language. Sometimes they misuse or incorrectly alter a phrase or cliche. And then, my favorite, sometimes they come up with an ingenious new way of describing or conveying something very typical or common. Like when Meggie told me, "Daddy, you have a stinky chin." She was indicting me for bad breath.
Megan has her flaws – she is too cute for example – but one of them is not selfishness (if you ask me). She offers Michael her candy, gum and stickers. She attempts to show Michael things, to share with him, and even do things for him on occasion, like make or get something for him. By the way, I asked Megan what her favorite thing from Santa was. Her answer? Gum. Santa put a pack in her stocking. With that in mind, Santa might not bring her so many toys next year.
We came to my office a couple Sundays ago in hopes of ‘sneaking in’. This is how I billed the excursion to the kids, I wasn't sure about security, if we could go in or not. When I am alone, I can come and go 24-7 for work. Of course, it's different for guests. So Michael, Meggie and I arrived and I ‘badged’ us in. This means I put my badge on a sensor which activates an otherwise locked, electronic door. Then all three of us crammed into a slot in the revolving door and shuffled our way around. I held Megan and Michael stood in front of me. Anyway, once in, I felt relief until I looked up and was greeted by a security guard. I recognized him, and vice versa; I chat with them once in a while. The guard advised us we couldn’t go further, that the kids were too young to come in without an approval form which I didn't have. Megan, rather confidently – and uncharacteristically as she is normally very shy around big strangers – looked right up at our imposing adversary and said, “Well, we were going to sneak past the security guards.” Believe me, in today’s competitive technology environment, the protection of designs and intellectual property is not taken lightly. I assured the guard that Megan had no intention of telling Apple or Google or any of our competitors about the cutting-edge, whiz-bang stuff she would see inside. Regardless, we couldn't go further and the kids were REALLY disappointed.
Megan is suddenly fond of the word ‘expert’. While reading a book with a butterfly in it, she blurted, "I am an expert about butterflies." Then she paused and added, "And Michael is an expert about Star Wars." I thought it funny she said 'an expert about' instead of 'an expert on'. Who knows, maybe she's correct, and the way I say it is wrong. Regardless, I love to hear very young people feeling their way around language. Sometimes they misuse or incorrectly alter a phrase or cliche. And then, my favorite, sometimes they come up with an ingenious new way of describing or conveying something very typical or common. Like when Meggie told me, "Daddy, you have a stinky chin." She was indicting me for bad breath.
Megan has her flaws – she is too cute for example – but one of them is not selfishness (if you ask me). She offers Michael her candy, gum and stickers. She attempts to show Michael things, to share with him, and even do things for him on occasion, like make or get something for him. By the way, I asked Megan what her favorite thing from Santa was. Her answer? Gum. Santa put a pack in her stocking. With that in mind, Santa might not bring her so many toys next year.
We came to my office a couple Sundays ago in hopes of ‘sneaking in’. This is how I billed the excursion to the kids, I wasn't sure about security, if we could go in or not. When I am alone, I can come and go 24-7 for work. Of course, it's different for guests. So Michael, Meggie and I arrived and I ‘badged’ us in. This means I put my badge on a sensor which activates an otherwise locked, electronic door. Then all three of us crammed into a slot in the revolving door and shuffled our way around. I held Megan and Michael stood in front of me. Anyway, once in, I felt relief until I looked up and was greeted by a security guard. I recognized him, and vice versa; I chat with them once in a while. The guard advised us we couldn’t go further, that the kids were too young to come in without an approval form which I didn't have. Megan, rather confidently – and uncharacteristically as she is normally very shy around big strangers – looked right up at our imposing adversary and said, “Well, we were going to sneak past the security guards.” Believe me, in today’s competitive technology environment, the protection of designs and intellectual property is not taken lightly. I assured the guard that Megan had no intention of telling Apple or Google or any of our competitors about the cutting-edge, whiz-bang stuff she would see inside. Regardless, we couldn't go further and the kids were REALLY disappointed.
Monday, January 04, 2010
Christmas Face
One might think that would be Santa. Or Jesus. But to me, Christmas face looks like this. On Christmas Day, my kids can eat what they want, no holds barred (kinda). Which means that Megan sustains herself solely on the chocolate found in her stocking. I quit cleaning her face after about ten o'clock, as it seemed pointless. She ate ALL of her candy in one day. And much of Michaels, since he traded her all of his Tootsie Rolls for a Littlest Pet Shop animal.
It's MY TURN!!!!!!
(I am kidding. She was just being silly. Although her screaming IT'S MY TURN isn't terribly far-fetched.)
And...Meggie's Show
Which was adorable. Megan was a good little singer and kept up with all of the hand gestures. Cute.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
First Grade Holiday Music
There is not much to say here other than Michael had a very cute little music program at school last week. He was not the most enthusiastic performer, but he did his duty. Megan was sweet as pie for the first two thirds of the show, at which point she began to melt down (it was way after bedtime) and started freaking out about how hot she was. She had a hot flash.
Dad Entry #56
My sweet Meg-Pie sang Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer to me three times over the phone this morning. I think it was one of the greatest moments of my life. I heard Sara laugh a little in the background, smiling as big as I was I’m sure at Meggie’s adorable recital. She nailed the melody and only stumbled once or twice on lyrics. She sang it once, then said, “Can I sing it again?” Yes, please! And then, “Again?” Of course! A slice of heaven (when you’re in China for work). It’s pretty rare to see a non-Chinese person in the streets or in the stores. Only in the hotel and a few restaurants. So walking around the city, I see cute little Chinese girls and I miss Megan. I see the curious and active little guys too, and miss Michael, too, of course. (I hear you.) Some kids are with moms and dads, but many are being watched and chased after by grandparents. Extended families are very devoted to each other here – same as everywhere perhaps – but I think it more likely in China that extended family members live very close to each other or in the same home even. Megan and Michael are devoted to their extended families and vice-versa. Sara and I are very grateful for and happy about that.
Michael and I had a terrific phone conversation today. I told him I ate some shark and some scorpions last night. He said, “Why do you eat so many gross things there! I am so grossed out!” I thought he might think it cool that I ate Shark, but no, he was not impressed. At the grocery store, in the meat and fish area, they have several tanks with frogs, turtles, eels, shellfish, jellyfish, and various other types of fish. I was taking a picture of the tanks for Michael when a fish jumped out and splashed all over me. It flopped on the floor at my feet for only an instant before an attendant appeared and scooped it up in a net and tossed it back in the tank. Michael would’ve loved that! I took a picture of an octopus for him too. It was dead and packaged, but it was most definitely an octopus! I bought Michael a Pokemon character cutout book and Megan a Barbie Mariposa sticker book today. They are exactly the same here, of course, except for the Chinese characters. Christmas is pretty big here, to a degree that surprises me. I always thought of Christmas as more of a western thing! Despite its frenzied commercialization, it still has deep religious meaning. But the Chinese do love holidays, and who doesn’t? I see Santa’s picture on many storefronts; there are Christmas trees and Christmas lights in public areas, and decorations for sale and on display inside many stores and restaurants. The kids were relieved to hear that. They would feel very sorry for me indeed, if I was in a place not getting all excited for Christmas!!!
Michael and I had a terrific phone conversation today. I told him I ate some shark and some scorpions last night. He said, “Why do you eat so many gross things there! I am so grossed out!” I thought he might think it cool that I ate Shark, but no, he was not impressed. At the grocery store, in the meat and fish area, they have several tanks with frogs, turtles, eels, shellfish, jellyfish, and various other types of fish. I was taking a picture of the tanks for Michael when a fish jumped out and splashed all over me. It flopped on the floor at my feet for only an instant before an attendant appeared and scooped it up in a net and tossed it back in the tank. Michael would’ve loved that! I took a picture of an octopus for him too. It was dead and packaged, but it was most definitely an octopus! I bought Michael a Pokemon character cutout book and Megan a Barbie Mariposa sticker book today. They are exactly the same here, of course, except for the Chinese characters. Christmas is pretty big here, to a degree that surprises me. I always thought of Christmas as more of a western thing! Despite its frenzied commercialization, it still has deep religious meaning. But the Chinese do love holidays, and who doesn’t? I see Santa’s picture on many storefronts; there are Christmas trees and Christmas lights in public areas, and decorations for sale and on display inside many stores and restaurants. The kids were relieved to hear that. They would feel very sorry for me indeed, if I was in a place not getting all excited for Christmas!!!
Friday, December 11, 2009
Dad Entry #55
I’m in China. I’m wrapping up my 2nd of 3 weeks here for work. I miss the kids. A lot. But Skype is helping; I have video-called them many times already. Skpe is free and over the internet (VOIP – and video data – to be exact). We’re 14 hours apart, so I typically Skype them at 10:00 PM from China which is only 8:00 AM back in Palatine. Last night I chatted with them while they jammed powdered-sugar donuts into their mouths for breakfast. I blow them kisses, say bye, and go to bed. They go to school. Michael has been great; he’s pretty easy goin’ about the whole thing. He’s bummed it’s taking so long for me to come home again, but we have nice video chats. I show them Chinese money and the Chinese sticker books I got them. I can point the web-camera out my hotel window so they can ‘see China’. They pan their webcam over to the Christmas tree so I can enjoy it for a moment. They tell me about their days at school and their Christmas lists. I tell them all the crazy things that are on the menus here (like scorpions, chicken feet, donkey, shark fin soup, sautéed bull frog, jellyfish, fried pigeon, marinated duck tongue, stingray, turtle soup, flower tea, and much more). I didn’t mention the dog dumplings on the menu last night. Meggie has been great too, she’s talkative and goofy and wonderful to chat with although at least once I caught her having a bad morning; she was very crabby. She’s intrigued by the fact I’m ‘on the other side of the world’. She asks me, “Daddy, why do you have to be on the other side of the world?” I tell her it’s because of work. I called them once via cell phone while they were in the car. When I had to say goodbye, Meggie said, “But Daddy, I wanna talk to you for a long time!” Me too, Sweetheart, I always wanna talk to you for a long time. I can’t wait to get home. Mommy is holding up okay, too, and Grandma and Papa Mike were there to help for a while, but I really can’t wait for next Thursday – my flight home!
Saturday, December 05, 2009
I Confess
I laughed at a fart joke at the dinner table.
Michael:
Newsflash. (pretends to type, rips paper from typewriter and holds it up)
The last time I farted was at school.
Newsflash. (pretends to type, rips paper from typewriter and holds it up)
The last time I farted was at Top Shelf Books.
Newsflash. (pretends to type, rips paper from typewriter and holds it up)
The last time I farted was just a second ago.
Michael:
Newsflash. (pretends to type, rips paper from typewriter and holds it up)
The last time I farted was at school.
Newsflash. (pretends to type, rips paper from typewriter and holds it up)
The last time I farted was at Top Shelf Books.
Newsflash. (pretends to type, rips paper from typewriter and holds it up)
The last time I farted was just a second ago.
Friday, November 20, 2009
A Joke
Michaels joke:
Michael: Knock, knock.
Me: Who's there?
Michael: Norma Lee.
Me: Norma Lee who?
Michael: Normally I don't go around knocking on doors, but would you like to buy an encyclopedia?
Megans version:
Meg: Knock, knock.
Me: Who's there?
Meg: Norma Lee.
Me: Norma Lee who?
Meg: Normally I don't go around buying stores, but would you like to buy a pediacycle?
Michael: Knock, knock.
Me: Who's there?
Michael: Norma Lee.
Me: Norma Lee who?
Michael: Normally I don't go around knocking on doors, but would you like to buy an encyclopedia?
Megans version:
Meg: Knock, knock.
Me: Who's there?
Meg: Norma Lee.
Me: Norma Lee who?
Meg: Normally I don't go around buying stores, but would you like to buy a pediacycle?
Oops
Conversation in car:
Me: Green means...
Megan: GO!
Me: And red means...
Megan: STOP! And yellow means GO!
Me: Green means...
Megan: GO!
Me: And red means...
Megan: STOP! And yellow means GO!
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The First Leaf Pile
I am ashamed to say that my kids have never jumped in the leaves. One of the downsides of having someone take care of your lawn...no access. They were...what's the right word....gleeful. It was adorable and hilarious and later extremely difficult to pick out of their hair.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Dad Entry #54
Surely there is nothing cuter on earth than Megan. Her bedroom gets quite cool at night (it hangs over the front door so two walls and part of her floor are outside facing surfaces not insulated by other rooms). Despite the cold, Megan likes to shed her jammies. She enjoys putting them on at bedtime and getting ‘comfy-cozy’ as we call it, but at some point they must get constricting, or bunched up, or – when she’s actually under covers – too warm. So off they come. Tonight I checked on her and she was sprawled on top of all the blankets in nothing but her undies and slipper-boots. Her new, polka-dotted slipper-boots. Yes, she is fond of tossing aside her jams but then putting on her slippers. Especially if they are new slippers I suppose. I covered her up. At least her feet will stay warm when she kicks off her blankets again.
Michael enjoys a good story at bedtime. I try to oblige but it’s tougher than the movies make it appear (when, say, a gravelly-voiced grandpa narrates an amazing yarn, perfectly paced and inflected and vividly detailed, to a pair of mesmerized, wide-eyed little grandchildren sitting comfortably on his lap). Story material is sort of finite, or it seems that way when I’m trying not to use a setting or plot from so many previous nights. I’m thinking, last week we had underwater adventures, a couple nights ago we were in the caves and mountains, I guess it’s back to outer space. We both enjoy thinking of characters (there are several who have made appearances now in multiple stories including Addibooha, Turkhaloo, Anishahbay, Master Oats, Servo and his sidekick bear named Kodiak, Rahkesh, and Brazen). And, naturally, we love to think of enemies. Swarming tarantulas tonight? Or a giant squid lurking in the castle moat? The plot is always the same, though. Good guy characters search for some awesome weapon or relic imbued with magic (like the Ring of Stone, the Mask of Ice, the Bracelets of Power, or the unbearably-bright-when-unsheathed Sun Sword). The good guys encounter the enemies, defeat them, and secure the treasure. Michael participates quite a bit in the storytelling these days, often describing an enemy or battle or encounter. We are not rescuing any ladies yet, though.
Michael enjoys a good story at bedtime. I try to oblige but it’s tougher than the movies make it appear (when, say, a gravelly-voiced grandpa narrates an amazing yarn, perfectly paced and inflected and vividly detailed, to a pair of mesmerized, wide-eyed little grandchildren sitting comfortably on his lap). Story material is sort of finite, or it seems that way when I’m trying not to use a setting or plot from so many previous nights. I’m thinking, last week we had underwater adventures, a couple nights ago we were in the caves and mountains, I guess it’s back to outer space. We both enjoy thinking of characters (there are several who have made appearances now in multiple stories including Addibooha, Turkhaloo, Anishahbay, Master Oats, Servo and his sidekick bear named Kodiak, Rahkesh, and Brazen). And, naturally, we love to think of enemies. Swarming tarantulas tonight? Or a giant squid lurking in the castle moat? The plot is always the same, though. Good guy characters search for some awesome weapon or relic imbued with magic (like the Ring of Stone, the Mask of Ice, the Bracelets of Power, or the unbearably-bright-when-unsheathed Sun Sword). The good guys encounter the enemies, defeat them, and secure the treasure. Michael participates quite a bit in the storytelling these days, often describing an enemy or battle or encounter. We are not rescuing any ladies yet, though.
Friday, November 06, 2009
Dad Entry #53
On several occasions now I’ve heard Megan say, “I need a fiber bar because my bottom hurts.” My little sweetheart sounds like an old man. She has battled constipation, and is aware that fiber can help. But I think she mostly wants chocolate; the fiber bars have chocolate on them and are really quite tasty.
Megan very often thinks of Michael when, for example, she gets a piece of gum. She’ll ask and take another piece for Michael. How sweet. Michael doesn’t always reciprocate this way. He will, however, stand up for her when things appear more extreme, like when we discipline Megan. If our threats sound too harsh, he will get involved. I might say, “Megan, if you don’t stop playing and get your shoes on NOW, you will NOT be going to Molly's birthday party.” Megan might begin to cry and frantically scurry around (even though she’s ignored the request twice already). It can be a pitiful display. Sara and I are unmoved but sometimes Michael gets genuinely concerned and challenges us on her behalf. He will make a comment like, “You guys are being mean to her.” I actually feel pride when he does this, so I just look at him and say nothing and let it slide, since I told Michael he needs to always stand up for Megan. I tell him standing up for Megan is my job and his job, also. Sara heard me say this recently and added, “And Megan’s job is to look cute and have lots of shoes.” Michael was bummed and said, “For real?”
We go to Dick’s Sporting Goods often just to look around and play. It’s a candy store for me, and the kids mostly agree. We putt golf balls, work the weight machines, test-drive ellipticals, leap frog all the treadmills lined up in a row. We look at bikes, throw the football, dribble the pumpkin, try on baseball gloves. We play soccer in the aisles and check out the taxidermied animals and deer stands by the guns. Sometimes an air hockey or foosball table is set up. But our favorite: playing in the tents. There were four little hunting blind enclosures on display last time and we ‘hid’ in them, sneaking around and ‘spying’ on fellow shoppers, ‘scouting’ their positions, ‘patrolling’ the area. We could zip them up so the inside was totally closed and dark. Looking at fishing tackle is fun too. Megan held up a lure and said, “Look, Dad, a toy for the fish.” She was thrilled they had pink rubber worms, and several with glitter. I told her it works on the fish like it works on her; she was attracted and excited and she grabbed them.
Megan very often thinks of Michael when, for example, she gets a piece of gum. She’ll ask and take another piece for Michael. How sweet. Michael doesn’t always reciprocate this way. He will, however, stand up for her when things appear more extreme, like when we discipline Megan. If our threats sound too harsh, he will get involved. I might say, “Megan, if you don’t stop playing and get your shoes on NOW, you will NOT be going to Molly's birthday party.” Megan might begin to cry and frantically scurry around (even though she’s ignored the request twice already). It can be a pitiful display. Sara and I are unmoved but sometimes Michael gets genuinely concerned and challenges us on her behalf. He will make a comment like, “You guys are being mean to her.” I actually feel pride when he does this, so I just look at him and say nothing and let it slide, since I told Michael he needs to always stand up for Megan. I tell him standing up for Megan is my job and his job, also. Sara heard me say this recently and added, “And Megan’s job is to look cute and have lots of shoes.” Michael was bummed and said, “For real?”
We go to Dick’s Sporting Goods often just to look around and play. It’s a candy store for me, and the kids mostly agree. We putt golf balls, work the weight machines, test-drive ellipticals, leap frog all the treadmills lined up in a row. We look at bikes, throw the football, dribble the pumpkin, try on baseball gloves. We play soccer in the aisles and check out the taxidermied animals and deer stands by the guns. Sometimes an air hockey or foosball table is set up. But our favorite: playing in the tents. There were four little hunting blind enclosures on display last time and we ‘hid’ in them, sneaking around and ‘spying’ on fellow shoppers, ‘scouting’ their positions, ‘patrolling’ the area. We could zip them up so the inside was totally closed and dark. Looking at fishing tackle is fun too. Megan held up a lure and said, “Look, Dad, a toy for the fish.” She was thrilled they had pink rubber worms, and several with glitter. I told her it works on the fish like it works on her; she was attracted and excited and she grabbed them.
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