I have two girls, S, five-years-old, and GK, two. They are stubborn and bossy, respectively.
Last night, S talked to her mother in a manner that mothers should not be addressed. I sent her immediately to her room and left her to think about it. Later, I told her she could come out if she would go and apologize to her mom. She went in the kitchen, but just stood there while Kristy talked to her. When she was finished, I asked Kristy if she had said "I'm sorry" and she said no. So I put her back in her room.
A bit later, just before dinner, I went in and asked if she was ready to apologize and she said no. That girl would rather sit in solitary than say she's sorry.
Eventually she was sprung without my consent. I would have left her in there all night, because I'm stubborn like that.
GK's hobby is telling everyone what to do and then watching as whatever it is is carried out. This morning she and Kristy were in our bed and I kissed GK goodbye and she said, "Kiss mommy." Well, I was going to. I don't need to be told to. But then it looked as though I was just doing what she said, which is what she likes.
Kristy does the same thing. If we turn a movie on, as soon as the DVD starts if the volume is too loud, she'll tell me to turn it down as I'm already reaching for the remote. But then it looks as though I was just doing what she said, which is what she likes.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Friday, July 25, 2008
Like Herding a Platoon of Cats
Kristy is at home all summer with our four kids. It's one of the greatest perks of being a teacher - summers off. It's also what helps this family function, there is no way we'd be able to afford childcare for two and a half months while the kids were out of school.
I couldn't do it. Taking charge of those four kids all day every day would end tragically. You'd all hear about it on CNN. I have to be at work all day, every day; I consider that a perk.
Today she has our four kids plus Mr. Baby, and she's taken them to Davis-Kidd Booksellers. I just found out that C's friend tagged along as well. So Kristy has left the house with six kids, which is insane. And, yet, she can handle it. She's half drill sergeant, half shepherd and half school marm. She is Big Mama.
How does she do it? What's her secret? I have no idea. And I don't think I want to, because I'm afraid it might then be expected of me.
I couldn't do it. Taking charge of those four kids all day every day would end tragically. You'd all hear about it on CNN. I have to be at work all day, every day; I consider that a perk.
Today she has our four kids plus Mr. Baby, and she's taken them to Davis-Kidd Booksellers. I just found out that C's friend tagged along as well. So Kristy has left the house with six kids, which is insane. And, yet, she can handle it. She's half drill sergeant, half shepherd and half school marm. She is Big Mama.
How does she do it? What's her secret? I have no idea. And I don't think I want to, because I'm afraid it might then be expected of me.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Machu Picchu
Ninety-seven years ago today, Hiram Bingham discovered Machu Picchu, the lost Incan mountaintop city.
Common belief is that Machu Picchu was a getaway for Incan royalty. A little respite from the day-to-day, humdrum routine of corporate Peruvian life.
Memphis's own Machu Piccu is the Gulf Coast of Florida, Mississippi and Alabama, with its white sand beaches and copious Budweiser. My people and I just spent a week at this sea level retreat and I had a little something to say about it in my column, "Because I Said So," over at The Commercial Appeal.
Common belief is that Machu Picchu was a getaway for Incan royalty. A little respite from the day-to-day, humdrum routine of corporate Peruvian life.
Memphis's own Machu Piccu is the Gulf Coast of Florida, Mississippi and Alabama, with its white sand beaches and copious Budweiser. My people and I just spent a week at this sea level retreat and I had a little something to say about it in my column, "Because I Said So," over at The Commercial Appeal.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
G is for Growl
What was that? That noise emanating from my youngest.
Two-year-old GK has begun the lovely habit of growling when she doesn't get her way, when she's upset or frustrated. It's primal, it's gravelly. It's like someone is running a rasp over the short end of a megaphone.
And it's useless.
Does she think we're new here? That we'd give up, throw in the towel, surrender just because she learned a new, albeit otherworldly, noise? Does she think we're French?
We've been through the crying and the tantrum-throwing, the screeching, whining and pouting. GK bores us with her new noise. We laugh at her growl.
She's going to have to become more creative with her anger to hold our attention. What concerns me is that she's smart enough to do just that. I'm not sure what it will be, but I fear it will involve implements. Sharp, shiny cutlery. Possibly some gun play.
This little girl needs things. She needs water in her sippy cup, she needs Blue's Clues turned on, she needs her mother's undivided attention all. day. long. And she's not willing to wait for any of those things.
She wants them now, she said with a guttural timbre.
Two-year-old GK has begun the lovely habit of growling when she doesn't get her way, when she's upset or frustrated. It's primal, it's gravelly. It's like someone is running a rasp over the short end of a megaphone.
And it's useless.
Does she think we're new here? That we'd give up, throw in the towel, surrender just because she learned a new, albeit otherworldly, noise? Does she think we're French?
We've been through the crying and the tantrum-throwing, the screeching, whining and pouting. GK bores us with her new noise. We laugh at her growl.
She's going to have to become more creative with her anger to hold our attention. What concerns me is that she's smart enough to do just that. I'm not sure what it will be, but I fear it will involve implements. Sharp, shiny cutlery. Possibly some gun play.
This little girl needs things. She needs water in her sippy cup, she needs Blue's Clues turned on, she needs her mother's undivided attention all. day. long. And she's not willing to wait for any of those things.
She wants them now, she said with a guttural timbre.
Monday, July 21, 2008
You Can Go Home Again, Unfortunately
We made it home. Perhaps one or both of you noticed I was gone all last week. We spent the week with three other families - seven adults, 10 kids - on the white sand beaches of Dauphin Island.
I already miss it.
There will be more to come, I'm sure, about the sand castles and the boogie boarding and the morning coffee on the deck and the late night bonfires. But right now I have a ton of work to do and, frankly, I'm still in mourning over not being on the beach right this minute with a cool drink and almost a dozen kids frolicking just out of my range of responsibility.
I already miss it.
There will be more to come, I'm sure, about the sand castles and the boogie boarding and the morning coffee on the deck and the late night bonfires. But right now I have a ton of work to do and, frankly, I'm still in mourning over not being on the beach right this minute with a cool drink and almost a dozen kids frolicking just out of my range of responsibility.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Because I Said So
In the midst of the huge project that almost wasn't, I wrote another column. And The Commercial Appeal published it!
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Cold Storage
We've slowly been outgrowing our home. We've run out of closet space, under-the-bed space, bathroom space and personal space.
Recently, however, we've outgrown something I never even thought about. We are absolutely out of room in our refrigerator. I always thought we'd have more than enough room in that box since we don't really have more than enough money for food, but we've somehow managed to overfill it. That big, white appliance is crammed full with a couple of gallons of milk and the same amount in juice, leftovers, bacon, condiments, simple syrup, eight cups with two fingers each of chocolate milk, a few eggs, some more leftovers, 10 jars of pickles and pepperoncinis, and a beer.
We bought this fridge almost 11 years ago after moving into this house; it's your basic cold storage with no ice or water from the door, no gallon-sized door storage, not even an ice maker. The problem - "problem" - is that it works fine, so there's really no reason to replace it other than we need. more. space. The other problem, of course, is that we can't afford one of those big refrigerators that we really need.
Just the other day, a friend had reason to get rid of a small, dorm-sized refrigerator, so we happily took it off her hands. And the only place we had for it in our house was on top of the other fridge.
So there it sits. The annex. Just like your grandmother's new TV sitting on top of her old TV. It's like a refrigerator attic.
It's the perfect place for juice, a condiment or one jar of pickles.
Recently, however, we've outgrown something I never even thought about. We are absolutely out of room in our refrigerator. I always thought we'd have more than enough room in that box since we don't really have more than enough money for food, but we've somehow managed to overfill it. That big, white appliance is crammed full with a couple of gallons of milk and the same amount in juice, leftovers, bacon, condiments, simple syrup, eight cups with two fingers each of chocolate milk, a few eggs, some more leftovers, 10 jars of pickles and pepperoncinis, and a beer.
We bought this fridge almost 11 years ago after moving into this house; it's your basic cold storage with no ice or water from the door, no gallon-sized door storage, not even an ice maker. The problem - "problem" - is that it works fine, so there's really no reason to replace it other than we need. more. space. The other problem, of course, is that we can't afford one of those big refrigerators that we really need.
Just the other day, a friend had reason to get rid of a small, dorm-sized refrigerator, so we happily took it off her hands. And the only place we had for it in our house was on top of the other fridge.
So there it sits. The annex. Just like your grandmother's new TV sitting on top of her old TV. It's like a refrigerator attic.
It's the perfect place for juice, a condiment or one jar of pickles.
Monday, July 07, 2008
Visions of C
C just returned from a long weekend with his Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Toby visiting with other family members at a mini-reunion in Statesboro, GA. By all accounts, he behaved himself on his first out of town trip without either parent. I knew he would.
He also had a blast, as I knew he would. I used to take trips like this as a boy, visiting family out of state without my parents. It's a great learning experience I think, that little taste of freedom, though without having to be too responsible. Just the right amount of freedom for someone his age. You learn initiative and a bit of self-reliance, and the whole experience is a character builder as Favorite Aunt Carol would say.
He can't stop talking about things that were said and games that were played and food that was eaten. He played with his cousins, Terryn, the Little Lady and Ben and Eric from way up north. He visited with Nonna, Mimi & Pop and played in the pool with Uncle Johnny just as I used to do.
It's a weekend he'll always remember. It's the very vacation that I can remember.
He also had a blast, as I knew he would. I used to take trips like this as a boy, visiting family out of state without my parents. It's a great learning experience I think, that little taste of freedom, though without having to be too responsible. Just the right amount of freedom for someone his age. You learn initiative and a bit of self-reliance, and the whole experience is a character builder as Favorite Aunt Carol would say.
He can't stop talking about things that were said and games that were played and food that was eaten. He played with his cousins, Terryn, the Little Lady and Ben and Eric from way up north. He visited with Nonna, Mimi & Pop and played in the pool with Uncle Johnny just as I used to do.
It's a weekend he'll always remember. It's the very vacation that I can remember.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Most Stupid
Okay, listen up, I'm going to tell this story once and then I don't really want to speak of it any more. And if anyone says, "You should have ... " then I will leave four hungry and summertime-sleep-deprived children on your front door step.
I'm working on this big freelance project for The Commercial Appeal. They're putting out their annual issue of "The Memphis Most" highlighting the best Memphis has to offer and I'm charged with writing pieces on various restaurants in 34 categories.
I've had about two-and-a-half weeks to work on it and have been doing so diligently. Earlier this week I was working on it, in fact, and decided I wanted the Word document saved into a specific file instead of on the desktop of the iBook G4 where I'd been keeping it.
So I "Saved As" under the same document name but in a different location.
Then came tonight. I booted up and, while I was thinking about what I was going to write, I started mindlessly moving icons on the desktop around, deleting some, just doing some general housekeeping.
I moved the document called "Memphis Most" into a folder in my Documents. And then the little dialog box popped up to tell me that there was already an item by that name and did I want to replace it?
And I did.
And then I immediately didn't want to and I undid it, but it was too late. I had moved the old document into where the newer document was residing and it overwrote it. I lost about a week's worth of work.
So, I have one week before deadline to interview people, rewrite everything, write my column for next week and take care of some other things that I'm not even at liberty to talk about right now.
All of this to say, if you need me for anything in the next week, I'm busy. Sorry. I'll have more free time in about two weeks, but for now just don't expect much from me.
I'll just be sitting here, alternately typing and beating my head on this keyboard.
I'm working on this big freelance project for The Commercial Appeal. They're putting out their annual issue of "The Memphis Most" highlighting the best Memphis has to offer and I'm charged with writing pieces on various restaurants in 34 categories.
I've had about two-and-a-half weeks to work on it and have been doing so diligently. Earlier this week I was working on it, in fact, and decided I wanted the Word document saved into a specific file instead of on the desktop of the iBook G4 where I'd been keeping it.
So I "Saved As" under the same document name but in a different location.
Then came tonight. I booted up and, while I was thinking about what I was going to write, I started mindlessly moving icons on the desktop around, deleting some, just doing some general housekeeping.
I moved the document called "Memphis Most" into a folder in my Documents. And then the little dialog box popped up to tell me that there was already an item by that name and did I want to replace it?
And I did.
And then I immediately didn't want to and I undid it, but it was too late. I had moved the old document into where the newer document was residing and it overwrote it. I lost about a week's worth of work.
So, I have one week before deadline to interview people, rewrite everything, write my column for next week and take care of some other things that I'm not even at liberty to talk about right now.
All of this to say, if you need me for anything in the next week, I'm busy. Sorry. I'll have more free time in about two weeks, but for now just don't expect much from me.
I'll just be sitting here, alternately typing and beating my head on this keyboard.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Lucky Number Seven
I guess the way it's normally done is to have a birthday dinner, then birthday cake and then open birthday presents. Had we made JP wait until after dinner yesterday to open his gifts, his head would have exploded. He began asking about opening his present the evening before, his voice vibrating and his hands shaking.
And then, yesterday morning, there was this exchange:
Me: Good morning.
JP: Can I open my present now?
Me: Happy birthday, JP!
JP: Can I open my present now?
Me: I'm going to go for a quick run and you can open it when I get back.
I returned and wasn't even in the front door yet.
JP: Can I open my present now?
So we let him open his new electric keyboard in the early morning hours of his birthday. Later that evening we ordered pizza per his request.
Delivered pizza and people giving him stuff, it's the perfect JP Day. I hope he had a great one.
And then, yesterday morning, there was this exchange:
Me: Good morning.
JP: Can I open my present now?
Me: Happy birthday, JP!
JP: Can I open my present now?
Me: I'm going to go for a quick run and you can open it when I get back.
I returned and wasn't even in the front door yet.
JP: Can I open my present now?
So we let him open his new electric keyboard in the early morning hours of his birthday. Later that evening we ordered pizza per his request.
Delivered pizza and people giving him stuff, it's the perfect JP Day. I hope he had a great one.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Happy Birthday, JP!
Seven years ago today, without the aid of any pain relievers whatsoever, I had a baby boy.
Happy Birthday, JP, I love you!
You can read about him here, and you can look at him here.
It's my grandfather's birthday, too. He's ... more than seven. Happy Birthday, Pop!
Happy Birthday, JP, I love you!
You can read about him here, and you can look at him here.
It's my grandfather's birthday, too. He's ... more than seven. Happy Birthday, Pop!
Monday, June 30, 2008
Warm Waters
When my sisters and I were kids, it seems like our mother made us take swim lessons about five different times. Perhaps we were slow learners.
Mom, if you had us take lessons so often because you were concerned for our safety around bodies of water, both large and small, then I thank you for your concern over our well-being.
If, on the other hand, you used it as a means to get some time away from us for a few hours a day, a few weeks per summer, then I applaud your resourcefulness as a parent. Well played, Elaine.
My three older kids began two weeks of swim lessons today at the Y. I feel like swimming is something I should be teaching them to do; to be cautious and to respect the water, but also to have fun. I just don't have the time.
So, instead, I'll be in charge of teaching them to shower every day, immediately after swimming in the big, urine-filled public pool.
Mom, if you had us take lessons so often because you were concerned for our safety around bodies of water, both large and small, then I thank you for your concern over our well-being.
If, on the other hand, you used it as a means to get some time away from us for a few hours a day, a few weeks per summer, then I applaud your resourcefulness as a parent. Well played, Elaine.
My three older kids began two weeks of swim lessons today at the Y. I feel like swimming is something I should be teaching them to do; to be cautious and to respect the water, but also to have fun. I just don't have the time.
So, instead, I'll be in charge of teaching them to shower every day, immediately after swimming in the big, urine-filled public pool.
Saturday, June 28, 2008
I've Got the Blues
From day one, it seems, we look forward to "the move out." The day when our kids take that last leap into the great unknown, known to us as "not living in my house anymore."
Okay, I wouldn't say from day one, because that first day they're cute and sleep a lot. Sometime around day two, however, they cry and start passing that meconium by the bucketload. It's from this day which I speak.
Before our kids move out, though, there's that other blessed moving day; the day when their friends move out. It's an event that you don't even realize at the time. In fact, it's several days later when you register that you haven't heard Steve's condescending tone, or that irritating yodel his dog makes. You have said goodbye to Blue's Clues and not even noticed.
The quiet is calming.
For us, that day of goodbyes has come and gone three times. It's not so hard; you
forget about them. Eventually it's like they were never around at all. Out of sight, out of mind.
But then, they come back. You didn't even know you still had their DVDs tucked away, and yet, there's your youngest, sitting there, transfixed by what she sees on the screen. You sit down next to her and she looks up, hoping you see what she does. She wants to share this wonder with you. And then she's amazed when you are able to mimic Blue's call, that you can sing along with the mailbox. Truth be told, you're a little surprised at yourself for remembering the song verbatim.
It's wonderful to see your child so happy, to see her discovering new things. The world opens up daily to our kids and we're lucky to be on hand to witness.
But those moments pass and, once again, you find yourself in the kitchen, beating your forehead against the refrigerator door, trying to force Pepper's voice out of your skull.
Soon enough they'll all skidoo out of here again, I'm sure. Steve, Blue, Slippery - they'll all be gone. To them I say, "Good riddance."
And I say it in the silly accent of a table spice.
Okay, I wouldn't say from day one, because that first day they're cute and sleep a lot. Sometime around day two, however, they cry and start passing that meconium by the bucketload. It's from this day which I speak.
Before our kids move out, though, there's that other blessed moving day; the day when their friends move out. It's an event that you don't even realize at the time. In fact, it's several days later when you register that you haven't heard Steve's condescending tone, or that irritating yodel his dog makes. You have said goodbye to Blue's Clues and not even noticed.
The quiet is calming.
For us, that day of goodbyes has come and gone three times. It's not so hard; you
forget about them. Eventually it's like they were never around at all. Out of sight, out of mind.But then, they come back. You didn't even know you still had their DVDs tucked away, and yet, there's your youngest, sitting there, transfixed by what she sees on the screen. You sit down next to her and she looks up, hoping you see what she does. She wants to share this wonder with you. And then she's amazed when you are able to mimic Blue's call, that you can sing along with the mailbox. Truth be told, you're a little surprised at yourself for remembering the song verbatim.
It's wonderful to see your child so happy, to see her discovering new things. The world opens up daily to our kids and we're lucky to be on hand to witness.
But those moments pass and, once again, you find yourself in the kitchen, beating your forehead against the refrigerator door, trying to force Pepper's voice out of your skull.
Soon enough they'll all skidoo out of here again, I'm sure. Steve, Blue, Slippery - they'll all be gone. To them I say, "Good riddance."
And I say it in the silly accent of a table spice.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Aggravating
Elizabeth gave me the game of Aggravation tonight as a very, very early birthday gift. It's a game we played as kids, but that I haven't been able to find for sale here locally. We found this on E-bay and laughed about it, and then she surprised me with it. The box lid is taped together, and the dice are yellowed, and this might be the exact game we once played.
As kids we also played backgammon, Battleship, Mastermind, checkers, chess, Stratego and a plethora of card games.
Lately I've been playing some of these games with The Quartet. It's been a way for me to reminisce, and a chance for me to set them up for the board game beating of their lives.
Or so I thought.
Read more about how this all went down in the latest installment of my column "Because I Said So" in The Commercial Appeal.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Mothersville
In January of 2003, my wife created Mothersville, a retail shop and safehaven for expecting women.
In February 2005, her friend Andria graciously and ably took that store over so she could go back to teaching.
Mothersville will close this Saturday.
For just over five years, the shop, and the women who have run it, have seen many soon-to-be, and brand new moms, and have assisted them through the ups and downs of motherhood. They’ve helped them, and the community, tremendously and I couldn’t be more proud of them and what they’ve accomplished.
Running a small business doesn’t stop at five o’clock. You take the worry home with you, you sleep on it and you wake up with the stress. At the time Kristy opened Mothersville, we had three children and I had a business, and I would joke that we had five kids when you took those businesses into account.
Kristy came up with the concept and got it rolling (with a newborn in her sling); Andria has carried through with it, expanding on it and growing it as much as was possible (with a newborn in her sling). She kept it alive against amazing odds for as long as the market would bear. And maybe just a bit beyond that.
We owe these women our admiration, our thanks and, possibly for many of you, your very sanity.
In the face of closing, Andria is running a sale all week. Many of you may be thinking you’d like to take advantage of that sale, yet are worried you’ll appear as a vulture picking at the carcass for doing so. I’m telling you to forget that line of thought. The best thing you could do to support her right now is to go in there and buy up as much stuff as you can carry.
And then, on your way out, be sure to give her a hug and thank her for everything she's done.
In February 2005, her friend Andria graciously and ably took that store over so she could go back to teaching.
Mothersville will close this Saturday.
For just over five years, the shop, and the women who have run it, have seen many soon-to-be, and brand new moms, and have assisted them through the ups and downs of motherhood. They’ve helped them, and the community, tremendously and I couldn’t be more proud of them and what they’ve accomplished.
Running a small business doesn’t stop at five o’clock. You take the worry home with you, you sleep on it and you wake up with the stress. At the time Kristy opened Mothersville, we had three children and I had a business, and I would joke that we had five kids when you took those businesses into account.
Kristy came up with the concept and got it rolling (with a newborn in her sling); Andria has carried through with it, expanding on it and growing it as much as was possible (with a newborn in her sling). She kept it alive against amazing odds for as long as the market would bear. And maybe just a bit beyond that.
We owe these women our admiration, our thanks and, possibly for many of you, your very sanity.
In the face of closing, Andria is running a sale all week. Many of you may be thinking you’d like to take advantage of that sale, yet are worried you’ll appear as a vulture picking at the carcass for doing so. I’m telling you to forget that line of thought. The best thing you could do to support her right now is to go in there and buy up as much stuff as you can carry.
And then, on your way out, be sure to give her a hug and thank her for everything she's done.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
4958
Back in January I wrote that my boyhood home was for sale and that, if the trends in that neighborhood were any indication, it would probably be torn down.
It was.
My sister drove by the other day and took this photo. That's where I lived as a boy, except there was a house there.
My own kids have lived all of their lives in one house, but hopefully they won't live their entire life in this house. When we do, eventually, move, I hope to have lots of photos and memories of our time in this little box.
And now you can join us in these visual memories by visiting Urftography , where I hope to put up a picture a day a la Click(Daily), or clicking on that little Flickr link over there to your right. Enjoy!
It was.
My sister drove by the other day and took this photo. That's where I lived as a boy, except there was a house there.
My own kids have lived all of their lives in one house, but hopefully they won't live their entire life in this house. When we do, eventually, move, I hope to have lots of photos and memories of our time in this little box.
And now you can join us in these visual memories by visiting Urftography , where I hope to put up a picture a day a la Click(Daily), or clicking on that little Flickr link over there to your right. Enjoy!
Thursday, June 19, 2008
It's Hot, Hot, Hot
Big Mama and I are going 'round and 'round. It isn't about the kids or finances or anything like that.
It's the air conditioner.
She will run that thing 24 hours a day trying to get the temperature inside the house down to 72, even when it's 97 degrees outside. We live in a 1,200 square foot box that's been wrapped in metal since sometime in the 1950s when aluminum siding seemed like a good idea. We have no trees. It's like spending a night in the box, except it's all. summer. long.
There are things that make cooling the house even more difficult, like using the oven and the fact that we're poorly insulated and the windows are for crap. But mainly, it's the kids. Isn't it always the kids?
They use the front and back doors like ... well, doors. But not doors to the inside of our house or the backyard. They use them like they're doors to a time machine or Candy Land or Narnia or someplace much more exciting.
They go out, they come right back in.
And, sometimes, they just stand there with it open as though it's the refrigerator door. And they may very well be that confused.
I threaten them with locking the door, whether they're on the outside or the inside. This generally evokes laughter or rolling eyes or the occasional obscene gesture. But I'll do it! I'll lock these kids out of my house in a heartbeat. Sure, it's hot here. It's very hot. But there's a hose out there and they know how to use it. There are shady areas in the neighborhood.
Meanwhile, I'll be in the cool house where it's 77 degrees at best, but trying so hard to get down to 72, when Kristy will then ask the AC to go down to a reasonable 68.
It's the air conditioner.
She will run that thing 24 hours a day trying to get the temperature inside the house down to 72, even when it's 97 degrees outside. We live in a 1,200 square foot box that's been wrapped in metal since sometime in the 1950s when aluminum siding seemed like a good idea. We have no trees. It's like spending a night in the box, except it's all. summer. long.
There are things that make cooling the house even more difficult, like using the oven and the fact that we're poorly insulated and the windows are for crap. But mainly, it's the kids. Isn't it always the kids?
They use the front and back doors like ... well, doors. But not doors to the inside of our house or the backyard. They use them like they're doors to a time machine or Candy Land or Narnia or someplace much more exciting.
They go out, they come right back in.
And, sometimes, they just stand there with it open as though it's the refrigerator door. And they may very well be that confused.
I threaten them with locking the door, whether they're on the outside or the inside. This generally evokes laughter or rolling eyes or the occasional obscene gesture. But I'll do it! I'll lock these kids out of my house in a heartbeat. Sure, it's hot here. It's very hot. But there's a hose out there and they know how to use it. There are shady areas in the neighborhood.
Meanwhile, I'll be in the cool house where it's 77 degrees at best, but trying so hard to get down to 72, when Kristy will then ask the AC to go down to a reasonable 68.
Monday, June 16, 2008
Storybook Finish?
I'm at work watching the playoff of the U.S. Open. I hope The Quartet is at home watching, too, because when it's two names like Tiger vs. Rocco, it's like playing golf in the Hundred Acre Wood.
A Day in Review
Yesterday, Father's Day, was just as it should be. Breakfast was prepared by Kristy and consisted of Cafe Francisco's Francisco bagel and Brother Juniper's scrambled eggs with salmon. I think she made them both better than the respective restaurants.
I ate breakfast in bed while watching CBS Sunday Morning and was given homemade cards. First, S came in and kind of tossed her card in my direction. Then the boys followed; C's had little flaps for me to open and read some nice messages inside and JP's had a little cartoon of one guy punching another guy's lights out and the caption "Nerd Buster's!" written underneath. I don't know if he sees us as a nerd-busting duo, or if this was some sort of veiled threat, but it was a handsome card, nonetheless.
From breakfast, it was all an even keel. I spent the morning lounging around reading the newspaper and doing The New York Times crossword puzzle. The Quartet taught me how to play a game called Mancala, and then proceeded to soundly beat me at that game again and again throughout the day. I watched the U.S. Open and we all took a trip to the park.
Back at home, I watched the kids play in the backyard while I grilled steak and enjoyed a cigar. These kids may be able to beat me at African games of skill and chance, but I'm still the only one allowed to make a fire in the backyard. Dinner was delicious and the perfect way to wrap up a day with my kids.
I'm already looking forward to next June. Thank you, Kristy, C, JP, S & GK.
I ate breakfast in bed while watching CBS Sunday Morning and was given homemade cards. First, S came in and kind of tossed her card in my direction. Then the boys followed; C's had little flaps for me to open and read some nice messages inside and JP's had a little cartoon of one guy punching another guy's lights out and the caption "Nerd Buster's!" written underneath. I don't know if he sees us as a nerd-busting duo, or if this was some sort of veiled threat, but it was a handsome card, nonetheless.
From breakfast, it was all an even keel. I spent the morning lounging around reading the newspaper and doing The New York Times crossword puzzle. The Quartet taught me how to play a game called Mancala, and then proceeded to soundly beat me at that game again and again throughout the day. I watched the U.S. Open and we all took a trip to the park.
Back at home, I watched the kids play in the backyard while I grilled steak and enjoyed a cigar. These kids may be able to beat me at African games of skill and chance, but I'm still the only one allowed to make a fire in the backyard. Dinner was delicious and the perfect way to wrap up a day with my kids.
I'm already looking forward to next June. Thank you, Kristy, C, JP, S & GK.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Father's Day 2008
I have run two 5ks in the last week. That's 10k.
That is not 10,000 miles.
I've traveled 10,000 miles over the past 10 years, all in the space of a front porch, the length of a family sofa, the distance from home to school. My traveling companions: a wife, four children who look like me, others who don't. Friends. Good Friends. Very good friends. Family.
There have been good times and bad. I've alternately felt like a wise old sage and a failure, a leader or a child myself. I am the most fortunate man alive.
There are days when I sing for my kids, when I put on funny hats to make them laugh, and times when I need some time away from their voices. I tell myself this is normal and hope I'm not mistaken.
It's a difficult thing, to not focus on mistakes made, both real and perceived, to not hone in on the tension. To wonder if you're doing more harm than good with the disciplining, the food, the television and teaching. There is too much good in all of this, though. These are good kids, a great family.
I am the luckiest of fathers today.
That is not 10,000 miles.
I've traveled 10,000 miles over the past 10 years, all in the space of a front porch, the length of a family sofa, the distance from home to school. My traveling companions: a wife, four children who look like me, others who don't. Friends. Good Friends. Very good friends. Family.
There have been good times and bad. I've alternately felt like a wise old sage and a failure, a leader or a child myself. I am the most fortunate man alive.
There are days when I sing for my kids, when I put on funny hats to make them laugh, and times when I need some time away from their voices. I tell myself this is normal and hope I'm not mistaken.
It's a difficult thing, to not focus on mistakes made, both real and perceived, to not hone in on the tension. To wonder if you're doing more harm than good with the disciplining, the food, the television and teaching. There is too much good in all of this, though. These are good kids, a great family.
I am the luckiest of fathers today.
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