A Gem

A few days ago, Michael and I were sitting at the table discussing our family tree. We talked about how mommy and daddy have a mommy and daddy...and "who are they, Michael?" He correctly answered those.


Then the line of questioning got a bit tougher.

Me: "And who do you think Grandma's mommy is?"
Michael: "Grandma Bev!"
Correct!

Me: "And what about Papa Mike's?"
Michael: "Grandma Marilyn!"
Correct!

Me: "And his daddy?"
Michael: "Papa Byard!"
Correct!


Then Michael's young, but typically impressive, brain gave away its limits.

Me: "You know Papa Byard has a mommy and a daddy, too."
Michael: "Were they prehistoric men?"

Dad Entry #31

Last night before bed, I challenged Michael to a round of “I love you more than….” I led off with an impressive volley of massive quantities. “Michael, I love you more than all the water in the ocean, all the stars in the sky, and…” – my kicker – “all the Legos ever made!” I figured this was unbeatable, and the Lego reference sheer genius. (Legos are the most popular toy at home lately). But Michael is a cool cat. He kept his composure, and very shrewdly countered with, “Daddy, I love you more than a hundred and a thousand Jupiter's.” Hmm. A hundred and a thousand. Maybe that’s 1100 technically or maybe it’s simply the largest amount, numerically, Michael could conceive of and express. Maybe I should teach him millions, billions, trillions and tell him, “Daddy deserves at least a trillion Jupiter’s, Michael.” But here’s why Michael just might’ve outdone me anyway: Jupiter is the largest planet in our solar system! Much larger than Earth and all its oceans and Legos. And the reason I know things like the relative size of Jupiter? Because I chat with Michael every day.

I'm Grooming him for Greatness

Yesterday Michael called to me from the playroom, "Mom! I made something that looks like a building!"

I didn't know how to respond since he has built things that actually ARE buildings many times now. Out of curiosity, I went in to him and he handed me this little Lego® creation. I asked him what on earth he meant. He explained that he meant it looked like a thing ON the building that I stop at sometimes near his preschool. Chase Bank.

http://www.chase.com/Chase.html

Tales from the Car

Exchange in the car:
Michael: Mommy, I do NOT like Megan. I do NOT like anything about her.
Me: Wow, Michael. That's not the nicest thing to say. That might make Meggie feel sad.
Megan (spaced out until this moment): Yeah, Michael, that makes me sad. It makes my head hurt. And my hands. And my knees.


Statement in front of Target:
Michael: Mommy, guess what? As I get bigger, my heart gets bigger and that means I can love people more! I already love Grandma and Papa Mike and Grammie and Papa John...and now I have room to love Gretchen, too!
Me: Oh, she'll be so happy to hear that, Michael.

Little Einstein

It is shocking, really, when you consider what this generation of kids will know about computers at such a young age. Michael has mastered my mouse, inspired by the Lego® website. Not PBS Kids, as I would have hoped, but Bionicle and Mars Mission Lego® sets have captivated his little technological heart. After a long day of surfing, I think I will have to limit screen time.

That's Right

So this photo does not even begin to tell the story of Megan's obsession with band-aids. You see four, maybe five if you look closely, on her left arm...but in reality, there were at least ten on there. All on one arm. It's a good look and does not garner stares (at me) at all when we go places.

A Little Laugh Helps...

At the kitchen table this morning, Michael looked at me very wide-eyed for a moment. Then he said, "Wow. I just had a burning hot pertz. Burning hot like a lava pertz." Most of you are familiar with what a pertz is (if you know my family), but if not, I assume you can sort it out with minimal effart. I mean efFORT.

Dad Entry #30

Michael had a great week at Gramma’s. It’s Papa Mike’s house too, but Gramma gets top billing, kind of like A-Rod gets a little more attention than Jeter now at Yankee Stadium. Both are still All-Stars. But even with Gramma, Michael had his moments; their relationship was stressed a few times in their 8 days together. At one point Michael declared he and Papa Mike should “put Gramma in jail.” That was after Gramma ended playtime in favor of bedtime. Or maybe she made him ‘go potty’ which Michael refuses to do until his eyes water and he pees “like a firehouse” as Papa Mike recalled. Michael asked every night how many days he had left, followed by negotiations for more. Michael cried on Saturday when he realized the clock was ticking down on his last day.

Megan and I joined Michael and company for the weekend. Uncle Bill drove the boat fast at Clear Lake! The kids loved it, but Megan was especially breathless when recounting the details to Mommy! Both kids swam and played in the sand so much we’re still finding grains of it in places like ears, scalp, under nails, in every crack and crevice. Actually, that’s not true, the sand is gone since I scrubbed the heck out of them immediately afterward. But it was indeed trapped in many places.

With Gramma and Papa Mike, Michael did the movie theater, the aquarium, the zoo, the Mall of America amusement park, Cleary Lake (not to be confused with Clear Lake farther south in Iowa), and Aunt Jenny and Uncle Scott’s house with Alissa and Elle. Michael and Alissa play well together, as do Meggie and Elle. Cute. Michael and Alissa scuffle and scold each other on occasion, but based on the many hours they chose to play and swim together, they are fast friends. Good times.

There were four big dogs at Clear Lake though, and I don’t blame Megan for not trusting an animal that bit her. She wasn’t afraid of Belle at Gramma’s, but Belle is the most passive pet in the world. You can steal Belle’s food, tug on her ear, and poke her in the eye and she will only smile. Megan loves Beller-Feller (and doesn’t do any of those things to her, I was only making a point). Megan’s even forgiven Zeke, I’m told. But she screamed whenever a dog sauntered too close to her, or stood in her way, at Clear Lake. The cabin there is pretty cozy, so this was nearly 100% of the time. She swatted at them a couple times which I observed with raised eyebrows, pleasantly surprised. I like the fact she wasn’t submissive or defenseless! That-a-girl, you swat anything that bites you! Of course I didn’t want them to ‘swat’ her back. But I was right there, she was swinging at them with one arm while clinging to my leg with the other. I do love it when she clings to me!

Another One Bites the Dust

Well, another of Michael's pearly whites has jumped ship. This one fell to a DQ dilly bar while in Minnesota with Grandma and Papa Mike. They noticed a bit of blood on his ice cream and saw that the tooth was gone...but gone where?! We're pretty sure it went down the hatch. They had to employ some creativity for the tooth fairy...I can't wait to hear about it in the morning. Thanks for the photo, Papa!

Dad Entry #29

I haven’t posted a journal entry in over a month. Well, I read this today online and I have to post it. This is an excerpt from an article entitled “My Father: The Outlaw” by Juan F. Thompson, the son of Hunter S. Thompson, “I understood him when I became a father. Only then could I understand how completely and totally a father loves his child, from the day he is born, and how that love just increases. A couple of months after my son was born, I called my father and told him that I finally really understood that he loved me and always had. He didn't say much, something like, "Well…uh…good. Did you see the Raiders game on Sunday?" It was okay. He didn't have to say anything more. I understood.” My sentiments, exactly. About love between father and children, I mean. My father is, and always has been, expressive and affectionate so that part doesn’t apply to me, just the fact that experiencing fatherhood puts the feeling, the love, into another place in terms of realization or recognition, like going from black-and-white to color, 2-D to 3, like thinking about sky-diving vs. doing it… whatever. In fact, not that long ago, I scribbled this onto a piece of paper, “Just imagine if God loves us like we love our children. Just imagine.” That’s a rather pleasant thought, actually (sorry, I feel a sudden need to sprinkle levity) and when held or achieved or believed, even the slightest bit, not much can disturb.

We saw Kung Fu Panda the other day. Right in the middle of the movie, Michael turned and said to me emphatically, “You were right, Daddy, this IS a cool movie!” It was a little too much stimulation for Meggie, though. Her eyes were very wide during most of the film and when I whispered a question to her once or twice like, “Are you okay, Love?” or “Po is funny, don’t you think?” she chattered on, mostly gibberish around words like ‘fast’ and ‘loud’ and ‘flying’ and ‘crash’, for several moments in response while I tried to get her to lower her voice in the theater. I love sitting by Megan at the movies. Of course, her knees don’t bend over the edge of the seat. They don’t reach the edge of the seat. Her feet barely do. We can fit a little bag or bowl of popcorn in between her short little legs though and she’s quite happy. So cute.

A Five-Year-Old Boy!

Michael had his birthday today! And his birthday party, too! Unlike last year, I went with the INDOOR pool party and guess what? It was a beautiful day.

Here's the birthday boy with his mom, Michael Silvestri and then Ben LaMonica. And Megpie playing in the pool, then Michael opening presents surrounded by the paparazzi.

Music Madness

In KC, we went to a concert that the kids flipped for. They went beserk. Dancing, running, laughing, tackling. And they slept well that night.

Trauma

Well, Zeke really went and did it this time. He bit my baby. On the eye. Luckily it was not terribly deep and only required one stitch, but it was very traumatic nonetheless. Nothing like pinning down your child so someone can skewer her eyelid with a fish hook.

She was so sweet on the way home. She told my dad and I that she "doesn't want Zeke-y to bite her again." And also she taught us that "friends don't bite, mommy."

She had another moment with Zeke before the 'situation.' She was eating breakfast and started crying. Here was our exchange:

Megan: Mommy! I want a muffin!!!
Me: But Megs, what happened to the one I just gave you?!
Megan (sobbing): It's in Zeke-y's mouf!!!

Tales from the Road

The kids and I had a amazingly easy trip to Kansas City. I was waiting with bated breath for them to start screaming like banshees or crying uncontrollably, but even while no sleeping occurred, they were completely reasonable the entire drive (9 hours!). Michael and I had two funny exchanges:

Me: I am so tired you guys! I am going to have to run through McDonalds to get a big coffee.
Michael: If you're tired, just take a little rest.
Me: I can't do that, babe. I have to drive, so I have to pay close attention.
Michael: I have an idea! I've been thinking about how whales sleep. Do you know how they sleep? They keep one eye open and the close the other one!


Michael (after receiving Twizzlers for a snack): I LOVE licorice. It is my favorite candy.
Me: It is good, isn't it?
Michael: My mouth is full of cherry happiness.

My Mother will be So Proud...

that I bought a pair of light-up shoes. I am not excited about it, but I would have had to erect a rubber room right there in Payless had I not bought them. They are a fairly hideous pair of plastic Disney princess sandals. I went in looking for a cute pair of girls shoes that I just saw in a Parents magazine ad this morning. They did not have them, and assuming they were so new the store had not gotten them, we went home and looked online. I then looked at the ad again to see if I could find the name or brand of the shoe when I noticed that the magazine was from September 2007. Right on top of things, I am.

My Baby's Growing Up....sniffle sniffle

Well, Michael had his preschool graduation party today. There was no real ceremony, which was kind of disappointing, but the kids enjoyed the party and picnic just the same. And the plate full of brownies, cookies and chips. He is going back for summer school, so we did not have to bid his beloved teachers adieu just yet, gratefully. The beauty in the middle with Michael is Haley, his wife. That's right, his wife. They made it official in a ceremony unbeknownst to any of the parents involved. All of the kids at school know about it, some even got to attend. Haley has big plans for them to live at Disney World.

What?

Awwwwww...

Meggie's first trip to the home salon. She LOVED it. She was so proud. A few days later as it started to wear off of her fingernails, she kept telling me that her fingers were broken. I was starting to worry and came in close to inspect them (as if I might have missed dangling fingers) and realized that she meant the nail polish needed re-doing. Addict!

Dad Entry #28

We’ve been busy. Fixing closet shelving, tiling our bathroom, chasing Megan, going to Cubs games. Michael wanted badly to join us for the Cubs game on Papa Mike’s birthday. I’ve invited Michael before and he’s declined, so Josiah, Greg, Papa Mike, and I had to go. Had to. Yeah, it was fun. There is no slowing down Papa Mike. Or Greg. Or Joe. I like hanging out with Joe, a former bouncer who can bench 500 lbs, a former UFC punching bag, I mean training partner, in the Miletich Camp. But when Michael saw Joe, he just wanted to know where Deanna and Casey were. I will get Michael to a Cubs game soon. So he can have cotton candy (of course that’s the draw, not Wrigley, Zambrano, Soriano, Lee, or Fukudome).

It’s funny how kids have different fears. Just like adults I know, but let’s examine Megan for a second. She will scale the most difficult ladder or rock wall on the playground. And she’ll do it fearlessly, breathlessly, smiling and giddy, even though she’s not big or strong enough yet and often bumps her head or chin or elbow or shin. Of course we catch her, help her, but also let her climb (she gets angry and refuses help most of the time, anyway, so we let her struggle and take some lumps). Obviously we prevent her from falling and crashing to the ground which certainly, without a spotter, would’ve happened several times already. Megan will jump into the deep end of the swimming pool with no one there to catch her or keep her afloat. She’d probably – gleefully! – jump out of an airplane, too, or base jump off the Sears Tower. But turn on the vacuum cleaner and she’ll run screaming through the house, petrified, frantic, looking for Mommy or Daddy (whoever is not holding the vacuum!). Poor thing. Like Aunt Jenny used to say – when she was Megan’s age – “Sweeper get you!” Megan struggled with the saws we fired-up constantly to cut sub-floor and tile. ‘Noise machines’ she called them and asked repeatedly if we were done and could we put them away please and thank you. I don’t think Megan’s fears – or ‘non-fears’ – are irrational at all, they’re just an interesting mix, as they are for all of us. Michael could care less about the vacuum (though he doesn’t like other loud things like industrial strength toilets at gas stations or restaurants that threaten to suck the whole room down when they flush loudly), but for years Michael was afraid of the slides at the playground.

Last night Michael furrowed his brow and asked, “Why are we going to die?” I remember thinking, moments like these are when Dads earn their stripes. I asked him first what he meant, wondering, for example, is he afraid of dying soon? Is there an impending emergency or natural disaster I’m not aware of? And is Michael clairvoyant, a prophet, or just an existentialist? Michael clarified he didn’t have any specific or immediate fears. I told him that he will live for a very long time before he has to think about death. More than a hundred years. And then, I told him, he will go to a better place called heaven. And Mommy and Daddy will be there. “But do they have toys there?” was Michael’s concern. “Yes, they have toys,” I assured him. Michael was silent for a while, still ruminating, so I asked if he wanted to talk more. “But why do we die?” he said. I asked him why he was thinking about this today and he answered, “Because Papa Swede died.” This really got my attention because I didn’t realize Michael knew enough about Papa Swede to speak about him or recall him from memory (but haven’t I learned yet that Michael’s mind is a massive steel trap that catches and cages everything!). Michael said Alissa told him Papa Swede had died (Michael hasn’t seen Alissa for many weeks now, though… hmm?). So I explained to Michael that people don’t live forever, but he has a long, long time still so he should only think about living! Then Michael asked his best question of the night! “When we die, does the world stop?” Awesome! I praised him for such a great question, then told him, “No, the world goes on for other people like his friends and loved ones, his children and grandchildren. And isn’t that wonderful!” I added. Michael said, “No, I’m not going to have any children.”