Dad Entry #12

Sara, you turkey, you've already updated my age on the header above to 32. I was thinking you'd forget for a while so that, unbeknownst to the world, I could remain 31 for a while longer.

Dad Entry #11

After reading a whale book, Michael told me that orcas fight bears. Recall that orcas are killer whales (Michael had to teach me this). Anyway, Michael said orcas win because they are more ‘bitery.’ Phonetically, that’s ‘bite – er – ee’ and, as Michael clarified for me, “It’s like the word bite, Daddy.” He must’ve known his word was not so common. I don’t think he would’ve stopped, furrowed his brow, and felt the need to clarify otherwise. It’s funny; it’s like a feeling-out process with the language. But Michael speaks with authority. He didn’t ask me if ‘bitery’ was a word; he told me what it meant! Come to think of it, he is a know-it-all chatterbox at times. But we’re happy he’s good verbally. He’s expressive and clear; and he’s unafraid to try new words which, at his age, can result in made-up or ‘non-words’ (e.g. ‘bitery’) and mispronounced words (e.g. ‘scupa’ diver). I don’t correct him much yet; I don’t want to squash his creativity. He’ll be challenged and corrected a million times in life – especially if he gets married – so I let things like ‘bitery’ go for now. And obviously I knew what he meant. Orcas have bigger mouths and bigger teeth. The Chicago Bears defense is the toughest thing on earth but bears, as a species, are simply not in the same weight class as orcas. After all, male orcas can weigh-in at over 6 tons. They can eat 500 lbs of food a day. And yes, they will, though rarely, take polar bears as prey. Wow. By the way, did you know that a blue whale’s heart is the size of a car (and it can pump 60 gallons of blood per minute)? Nature is amazing. Michael knows this – that nature is awesome – but I seem to have forgotten momentarily.

Sara and I are going to re-tile our master bath. So I’m ripping out the old tile this week. Michael is ‘helping.’ He mostly pounds nails into the sub-floor, only a little bit so I can just yank them out with my hands. He also pokes around in the little gap between the drywall and the floor, stuff like that. I have to keep my eye on him, though. Not for safety reasons – with hammers, chisels and tile shards laying around, who cares about safety (just kidding DCFS). It’s because I heard, “Look Daddy, I’m working on this thing here.” Michael was referring to the exposed air vent. He’d mangled the aluminum air duct opening. Yikes! I was able to bend the opening back to its previous rectangular shape. Sort of. But in the spirit of not stifling creativity – as above with his uncorrected use of ‘bitery’ – I cringed but commended him on his good craftsmanship. Then I told him to alert Daddy before he undertakes any special projects – like HVAC improvements – and, yes, I told him he can cause damage if he’s not careful, if he does things incorrectly, or if he does things I haven’t okayed first. I’m the foreman, I told him. The contractor. And he’s a laborer. So he has to take orders. And get used to it, I told him. And then I think I mentioned ‘marriage’ again.

My Megan update: she’s cute. The other day she was caring for her baby. She wrapped up her baby, a.k.a. dollie, in a blanket. She held it, rocked it and fed it with a toy bottle. She said "dollie" a few times in her sweet, soft voice. Then she got flustered – because she’s so cute I had to give her and her dollie a hug – so she frowned, whined and twisted away from me. Then she tossed her baby and it crashed headfirst on the hardwood floor. Ouch!

Brief Exchange with Michael

We are having a lousy day. The kids are grumpy and mean and I am an angel, of course.

They just ate lunch and then headed into the living room to play. I walked by the door and saw Michael looking for me guiltily.

I asked him,"What?"

He replied "I'm NOT hitting MEGAN!!!! She's too far AWAY from me!"

I said (facetiously, of course), "Is that the only reason?"

He said, "Yes."

A Day Out

In a cute downtown near us. We went early and stopped in for coffee as we got started. Megan and Michael got chocolate milk. We then got cheese popcorn and fudge for breakfast (or maybe it was lunch by then). Megan sometimes forgets that when she uses a straw, she doesn't have to tip the glass...long story short, she dumped it all over her lap (click on photo to see large). We decided to stay a bit longer, until people giving us "looks" over the fact that Meg looked like she had had serious blow out all over her pants drove us out of town.

Speaking of Daddy Love

Here is a cute one. I asked Meg to "snuggle" daddy's head.

A Snuggle

A rare glimpse at a snuggle with Daddy. This happens so infrequently, that it is a bloody miracle that I got it here. At the zoo. Like sighting an almost extinct animal.

The Scar

After Dan had gone on about how scars are cool for guys, when I did finally take off the LAYERS of bandages, he said, "WOW. That is really bad." Great, so now I can't fall back on the "it's cool" mentality when I look at my perfect son's not-so-perfect eyebrow. Now it's just not perfect.

He's a Natural

Speller, that is. A few days ago, Michael yelled, "MOM! I spelled PUZZLE!" When I looked over, he had this going on on the side of the fridge. Nice.

Dad Entry #10

Megan was feverish yesterday; she’s getting her molars or maybe it’s a little cold / flu bug. Fevers subdue her. She slows, softens; she’s very snuggly all of the sudden. It’s my personal heaven. I hold her and she leans her head against my chest, gets comfy, sighs. Very snuggly. It’s pretty wonderful. Maybe she loosely grabs my shirt with one hand but otherwise she’s very relaxed, warm, sort of needy even. I can take both her little hands and hold them in one of mine... and she doesn’t immediately whip them away and scowl or grunt, all irritated. No calls for Mommy either, no squirming or trying to spin away from Daddy – like she does otherwise when I just want a quick hug - no whining or repeating the same word over and over like, “Down, down, down.” No movie requests even, like “Shark Tale, Shark Tale, Shark Tale.” Last night I just held her for a while and we watched the Crocodile Hunter. Hmm, that doesn’t sound very fitting, very calming, it’s a very energetic show, but Michael was absorbing it all for us, watching and imitating, running “like a cheetah,” attacking my legs “like a lion,” and wrestling pillows into a death roll “like a crocodile.” Yeah, practicing a ‘death roll’ sounds pretty violent, but that’s what it’s called. Michael knows wild animals hunt and kill prey for food. It’s a fact of life. Death and taxes. Even so, I guess we should try to use friendlier words when available. Michael already runs around talking about ‘Orcas.’ Who calls them Orcas? Nobody. They’re Killer Whales. So be it, we’re getting PC with our animal terminology. Before Michael, I didn’t even know Orcas and Killer Whales were one and the same, that they could / should be called Orcas now. Fair enough, but I can’t think of another name or description for ‘death roll’ above. Sara told me Gretchen would like to hear more about me (Dan / Dad) on the blog, maybe a little less about the kids. Okay, sure. Umm, let’s see… I’m going to have spaghetti for lunch. And I wore my dark jeans and a light green polo today.

Dad Entry #9

Michael told me last week, at bedtime, “Daddy, I might get scared tonight.” I asked him what might scare him. He explained that the ‘Veggie Tales’ movie with the ‘Island of Perpetual Tickling’ wasn’t a good movie and that I should take it out to the garage right away, and then we should sell it in a garage sale. I said, sure, we can do that, or I could take it to work and give it away. Michael said that would be fine if I took it out to my car immediately so I wouldn’t forget to take it to work. I asked Sara, “What’s up with the ‘Island of Perpetual Tickling?’” I tickle and wrestle with Michael all the time. She said even though it’s animated, of course, there is a faceless, grim reaper look-alike who runs the island. Though I explained to Michael it’s nothing to be afraid of, I banished the movie to the garage. Michael also said he was scared of “the three letters.” When I asked him to identify the perpetrators within a recitation of his ABCs, he explained, “No Daddy, not like that, the loud letters.” And then I understood. Michael doesn’t like unfamiliar noises that are sudden, unexpected given the source, or just too loud. Industrial strength toilets in public restrooms, for example. The ones that are so loud when flushed it sounds like the whole room will get sucked in. Michael has entered many a public restroom with hands over ears. I guess loud flushes fall in the ‘unexpected given the source’ category. Who knew toilets could be so loud? The ones at home aren’t like that. (I wonder how often a child thinks - about anything worthy of comparison, not just toilets - ‘The ones at home aren’t like that?’) Anyway, sorry, getting back to the ‘loud letters’ bit, I realized Michael meant the big ‘THX’ banner before movies with THX surround sound technology. The ‘three letters’ fill the screen and the volume is slowly increased and blared. Meggie has a lot of words now. She totes around a cleaned-out mayonnaise container full of whale figurines. “Whales, whales, whales.” She also has a whale book she calls out for. She likes to read “Cake,” her Strawberry Shortcake book and who can resist when she says, “Hep, pease. Hep, pease.” It’s so sweet it’s hard to deny her request, even if she wants ‘help’ reaching an open bottle of nail polish, or Mommy’s glass of red wine, anything she will undoubtedly spill or break. Prompted by Mommy, Megan will advise anyone leaving in a vehicle to “Dive fafe.” And Mommy has Megan tell Daddy, “You a bum!” once in a while; it’s from her book ‘The Paper Bag Princess.’ Megan’s long hair is gorgeous. And when she runs, or laughs - or does anything - it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.

Dad Entry #8

Today, I just wanna say thanks to my Godmother, Donna. She’s been a wise influence since day one for me. I think wisdom and humor are related. I think people who identify and contribute the latter – whether they realize it or not – possess the former. It’s relevant to the blog because I hope my kids have people like Donna in their lives, people that bring a smile to their face, just the thought of them even if it’s months or years between visits. Donna is still rolling her eyes at my description of her. Hey, I’m only offering my impression and God knows, with all my insecurities and idiosyncrasies, I have a distorted view of everything! But Donna is wise and fun and calming because she will offer a shrug and a laugh even if the topic deserves harsher treatment. I appreciate that attitude and the people who subscribe to it. Now, I hear you Ashley and George, but everyone deviates, once in a while, from their ‘steady state’ mode of behavior!

I think I See an Object!

Today we went with some friends to a cool little exhibit with these massive mosaic tile sculptures by Niki de Saint Phalle. It was seriously neat and the kids thought it was, too...Michael coined the phrase 'o' the day: "I think I see an OBJECT!" An object is a sculpture. Don't know where he picked up that lingo. But he and his friend Ben used it a lot today.

I think I See an Object! Part Two

Dad Entry #7

Sara, please remove your "Too cute" post and picture below. Megan's top is too tight. And where are her pants?!?!

You're Squishing Me!

A rare moment of the kids actually enjoying one another. Well, sort of. Michael tackled Megan and draped his entire body weight over her tiny body and then laid there posing for the camera as Megan, smiling since she's unsure of if this is supposed to be fun and if she should accept the "game" Michael is playing, squirmed to no avail. Not to worry, I promptly removed him after 3 or 4 pics.

Too cute

not to post. I think this one might get daddy through a few long work days. Look at the sweet face. You would never know a raging demanding independent diva inhabited that body.

The Injury

Not easy to see under the load of bandages. Michael was in heaven. And TYLENOL. His elixir of choice.

Don't Mess

with Megan when Michael is around. Only HE is allowed to push her, hit her, head butt her, biff her, bash her...the list goes on but you get the idea.

Come Hither

You know you can't resist the "Girl in a Cooler" look. ME-ow.

Another Accident

Well, more news to report. On his apparantly never-ending quest to look like an NHL hockey player, Michael took a dive yesterday from Meggies doll stroller and cracked his face on the wood file cabinet in the living room. Why exactly he was standing on the worlds' most unstable and unable-to-sustain-his-body-weight toy is not yet understood. Unfortunately, his eyebrow/forehead caught the edge of the cabinet and about 3/4" in and right above his eyebrow actually popped open. It was a VERY traumatic moment. He was VERY upset. I was VERY shaky. We were VERY lucky that Grandma was there to help gauge the situation, send us to the ER and take care of Megan. Michael was so afraid he'd have to get a shot and begged us not to go to the doctor. After we wiped off the blood, we took a look and the cut was extremely deep. Luckily, when we got to the 24 hour Care Center near us, the doctor told us that we could use super glue instead of stitches. Michael was still really struggling and crying a lot (quietly, though) and I had to sing "Raindrops on Roses" multiple times (in front of the nurses!) to help calm him. They washed it all out and gave him a touch of a numbing agent and then glued him up. Very wierd. He seems much better and has only complained of pain a few times. The edge mark is still swollen and bruised...we can only hope the actual cut heals well and that his eyebrow isn't off kilter!

I can't take much more of this.