Category: Family

Some quick background-

First, about 6 months ago or so one of my parents’ dogs passed away. It was a completely unexpected passing- she was a young and energetic Bernese Mountain Dog. Mom was upset enough to call me minutes after it happened. I remember being at swimming lesson with the kids and being shocked at the news. Later that evening I told the Wife, who was equally stunned, and the decision was made not to say anything to the kids.

Second, a couple of weeks ago we were down visiting my parents- the first visit since the dog had died. We finally told the kids about it prior to leaving. We didn’t want them obsessing about it down at their place, as is their (understandable) custom about such things. While we were visiting, the Red Lored Amazon Mom had rescued about 15 years ago had to be put to sleep due to the development of cancer. Unlike the dog, Mom had a suspicion the bird was failing because of it’s behavior prior to the vet visit. Still, it wasn’t an easy thing. The bird not returning home from the visit to the vet took a little for the kids to wrap their minds around. The boy most particularly, who disappeared for a bit to contemplate events on his own upon realizing what had transpired.

And that brings us to last night.

The Wife had the kids call Grandma to thank her for the recent gift of books she had sent. The lass went first and said her thanks and chatted for a few moments. Then she passed the phone to her brother so he could do his diligence.

The first words out of this mouth:

Hi Grandma, did anything else die?

The Wife and I just about fell on the floor. I sharply rebuked him and he changed the subject, a little confused. I’m not sure what Grandma’s reaction was on the other end, but I did hear the boy say “Hello? Grandma?” a couple of times prior to thankfully changing the subject. The Wife took the phone afterwards and apologized. Trying to make the most of it in my own inimitable way, I told the Wife to tell her she’d just made the blog.

I guess this is evidence that ‘tact’ is a learned behavior. Of course, upon reflection it’s an understandable sort of thing. From his perspective, both animals, which he was very much aware of, were just all of a sudden gone. No warning or chance to absorb what-was-to-be. The boy was defensive about it afterwards and I softened my stance. He wanted to understand why the question was inappropriate. I’m not sure that I was able to properly explain either.

After all, now it was my turn to process recent events.

The lass returned home from Day 1 bright and chipper. She was excited to tell Mom about everything she did in school and to show her some of the drawings she had made while there.

The boy returned home from Day 1 out cold on the bus. Just like last year. He has yet to say anything to myself. I think he might have said a couple of things to the Wife, but they were … terse. I suppose it’s possible his day was that bad, but my guess is he’s still waking up. Regardless, we’re giving him a wide berth until his mood lifts.

180 more to go…

The kids are off for their first day of school. Mom took them today since it will be the lass’ first day at her new school with her new teacher. The bus comes by about 7:30, but they don’t actually get to school ’til 45 minutes later, so we’ve opted for dropping them off in the morning.

It had become typical that they would be up at the crack of dawn for the summer. It was actually something of a running joke between the Wife and I that there was no point in getting up early for quiet time because that just meant the kids would be up that much earlier. Meaning they’d be grumpier later during the day. Do the math.

So, of course, today being what it is, they both slept in. Fortunately, other than that, they were trouble free. In fact, they finished the new morning ritual early enough that they got to watch a few minutes of TV prior to departure.

Now, I’ve got 4 hours of quiet time. That may take some getting used to.

Or not.

The kids returned today to the sound of …

Tears.

There own, to be more specific.

There exhaustion from a whirlwind visit with their Grandparents had caught up with them. They had fallen asleep during the ride and were none to pleased with their wakeup call upon arrival. The boy came in the house grumpy and collapsed on the couch while the lass balled because her belly hurt.

Welcome home indeed.

The kid’s are at their Grandparents for the close of their Summer Vacation, making for a quiet house. One of the unusual abilities of the brain is to adjust itself and create a “new normal.” So prolonged time at sea gives one sea legs; prolonged exposure to dark results in increased sensitivity to light; and prolonged exposure to kids results in … accepting certain level of chaos as normal.

They are old enough now that they can be lightly monitored. Usually, silence is an indicator that they’re up to something. Screaming, arguing, laughing and general havoc and running around is the norm. There’s a certain threshold that has to be crossed before parental intervention becomes necessary. Even then, they’re clever enough now that I know the more aggrieved of the two is engineering the intervention. Such is the life of the parent of post-toddlers.

Perhaps a more succinct way of stating it is that, their absence is noticeable.

In resolving the lass’ school situation for the coming year, we reaffirmed the old maxim “It’s worth a shot.” The local public school has a pre-K program which we did not bother to enroll her for. We had no reason- her progress at the pre-K we sent her to was fantastic. Why mess with a good thing?

Well, we know how that turned out. Initially, we were kicking ourselves for not at least entering her in the lottery. Our assumption at this point was that she had no chance for getting in. After all, they hold a lottery to put kids into it in the first place. So with-holding the kids from the lottery and then calling last minute like for a spot just seemed like such an easy way to game the system, that I assumed it couldn’t possibly work.

We called anyway. And, as luck would have it, they had room. So her schooling for this year is all set. As it happens, news of the change does not seem to have bothered her one bit. In fact, the prospect of riding the bus home from school was almost too much for her to take. Despite her seemingly strong feelings for her previous teachers, the prospect of going somewhere else didn’t even register a hiccup.

Glad we asked.

At the end of this past school year, we thought we were in a good situation regarding school for the kids. The boy was no problem- he’s a grade schooler now and established in the local school system. The lass, on the other hand, is not. But, we were very impressed with the Catholic School pre-K program she was in and we enthusiastically reserved her spot for the coming year.

Alas, it was not meant to be. Or at least, not meant to be a sure thing.

The first inkling of trouble was a letter in July that the school’s principal had resigned. After 1 year. The letter introduced a new principal and stated unequivocally that it was steady-as-she-goes for the coming school year.

Then we had the message this Friday past. The K-8 portion of the school was going to be closing. The pre-K was still being offered, but without a secretary or school nurse available. They were investigating moving the class to another Catholic School in the area. Were we interested?

Yes. I could hear you. Yes. I was ignoring you.

Remember, this morning? When I was mowing the lawn, right in front of you while you played on the swing? You kept calling me and calling me and I kept not responding? Yeah, then. I could hear you the whole time. Despite the racket from the mower. And the ear plugs in my ears.

Of course, I couldn’t tell what you were saying, other than “DAD!!” But I was able to infer that it was not terribly important. How? Well, because the entire time you were yelling for me, and I was ignoring you, you guys never left the play gym. And since it was obvious that neither of you was injured, and you’re both toilet trained so it wasn’t a potty emergency, I decided that it was in everyone’s best interest if you waited. So I let the earplugs and the mower noise serve as a pretense for my inability to “not hear you.”

Why was it in everyone’s best interest?

Well, I wanted to get the lawn mowed. If I answered you every time you called for me I’d still be mowing it now, about 2 hours later. Heck, I might still be mowing it tomorrow.

Why was it in your best interest? Well, I think it afforded you the opportunity to learn any one of a number of lessons:

• Courtesy- when someone is working, and your need is not dire, let them complete their task before asking something more of them
• Respect for someone else’s time. I know you think every little thing that pops into your mind needs to be serviced now, Now, NOW! But it’s just not the case.
• Patience- I think we’ve already covered that your “need” could wait.
• Self-Initiative- maybe you could have dealt with the problem yourself.

I’m aware that you can’t read or understand this letter at this time, but soon you will be capable. Perhaps someday you’ll discover this little corner of the world and stumble across this letter. Hopefully, by then, you’ll have absorbed the afore mentioned lessons and get a kick out of the antics of your past selves. Plus, you’ll know for sure how “Dad” dealt with you in this one instance.

You can do with that knowledge as you will.

Love- Dad

PS- Yes. Other people can read this.

PPS- Yes. Grandma and Grandpa and Memere and Grandpa read hear. I can’t say for sure if they’ve read this particular letter. Your Uncles and Aunts as well.

PPPS- No, you can’t play the Wii.

“My tooth came out!!”

I heard the words and it didn’t register for a second, then she declared “LOOK!”

We’re in the car and the Wife has just called my Mom to check in and chit-chat. We had just finished our biweekly outing where we go to a chiropractor to get straightened out and then go out for a quick bite. The chiro is a good 45 minute drive for use. But then, so is everything else.

The Wife had returned from a trip late last night and was too tired to decide on mundane things like where to eat, so we went to a Mexican joint which happens to be across the parking lot from a Best Buy. After scarfing Mexican we went into the Best Buy to walk off our meal and ogle at cool electronics. Actually, we did a bit more than ogle as we walked out with a Blue Ray player as well as some new DVD’s for the kids.

We had barely made it to the light less than a half-mile from the parking lot when she declared her tooth was out. After overcoming my initial shock at the words, my mind immediately jumped to the only logical possibility- she was pulling a fast one. I mean, it had only been this morning at 8 when she had come down and had me check and verify that the tooth was, in fact, loose. It was definitely loose, but not that loose.

Apparently, the apple was more effective than I had imagined.

Once the reality of the situation struck us, the Wife turned to me with a deadly serious expression and said “I hope the Tooth Fairy is ready.”

“The Tooth Fairy is always ready.” I calmly lied in reply. The Tooth Fairy had been caught with her wings folded this time.

“I just remembered that I have to get something from Kohl’s” she returned.

So as I’m sitting in the parking lot with the kids, the boy starts giving advice on what to do with the tooth, going so far as to offer his tooth box so she would have something to stash the tooth in for the Fairy’s visit. They also discussed possible gifts she might get.

When the Wife returned “empty handed” she let the lass tell Grandpa about her tooth coming out. Then she got to tell Memere and Grandpa as well. So as to insure the tooth’s safe passage back home (after all, no tooth- no Tooth Fairy) she had relinquished the tooth to the Wife who wrapped it in a tissue and placed it in her purse. When we finally arrived home, she was fast asleep.

With visions of Tooth Fairies dancing in her head.

Done.

Finally, at long last, after many false alarms, the lass has a loose tooth. She’s been waiting for this moment for many months now. Watching longingly as her big brother lost one tooth after the other.

She’s been milking it for all it’s worth as well. She wanted to know how she could make it looser. We told her to keep wiggling it and maybe eat something crunchy. She asked if an apple was crunchy enough and when we told her yes, she immediately tromped off to get herself an apple. She ate the whole thing, as opposed to the usual 3 bites and leave it lying as a surprise discovery for the Wife or myself.

She’s also been giving regular status reports. Each time, it’s a little looser. So unless she can detect infinitesimally small changes, I figure it should fall out tonight.

Or not.

When the boy returned from his sleepover this past weekend, his friend was in tow. One of the great things about kids going to friends’ houses is they come back with all sorts of new ideas about what they absolutely-have-to-have-don’t-know-how-they’ve-lived-without. In the boy’s case, this item turned was his friend’s Nintendo DS.

What was amusing was that his friend decided to be helpful and suggested that the boy ask for it for Christmas. After all, that was how his friend had obtained his DS. They then proceeded to argue about how Santa got the DS. On the one side was the boy, insisting that Santa’s elves made the DS. After all, that’s what the elves are for, right? For his part, his friend was very confident that Santa bought the DS, because there had been some sort of sticker on his when he got it. The lass was in her brother’s corner, but I think she would have been willing to switch given a more convincing case.

I was asked to moderate, but chose not to since stuff like that is way above my pay-grade. Although later, I wished I said that Santa probably has his elves purchase the DS from Amazon, that way the elves have more time to build other stuff. That would have been a nice way to split the baby.

We got home mid afternoon yesterday after a lazy zag(or was it a zig?) through New Hampshire. The Wife got to see the brick-and-mortar version of a couple of her favorites sites, Patternworks and Keepsake Quilting. Other than that, the drive home was uneventful. It also lacked the punch the drive up packed. There’s just no comparison between the White Mountain skyline and, well, any Boston area skyline.

The boy and the lass had each had there own big events to anticipate. The boy was going to sleep over at a friends, while the lass was going to be an ‘only for a night.’ Neither could really contain their excitement. They were both extremely helpful unpacking the car- not wanting to jeopardize their opportunities.

Dropping the boy off was uneventful. His friend was having a birthday party. The boy, for his part, couldn’t wait to be rid of me. There was no hesitation or second-thoughts about being away from home for the evening. I barely got a ‘Good-Bye’ out of him when I left.

The lass was in her glory for the evening. She had Mom and Dad all to herself and she took advantage of it. Particularly with regards to the Wife. Lot’s of reading and ‘playing dolls’ and other girl stuff.

The boy arrives home some time today around lunch. No calls from the other parents which either means that everything has gone just swimmingly, or the combination of the two kids together has resulted in full-scale destruction of that immediate area. I think that would have made a noise, so my money’s on ‘a good time was had by all.’

Whenever I’m in New Hampshire, I get strong feelings of contentment. There’s peace out here- a vastness that captures the imagination. The deeper one gets into the state, the more the signs of ‘normal’ simply disappear. Fellow auto travellers become sparse. Large urban areas reduce to small towns, which further reduce to the odd home whose closest neighbor is miles away. Pristine landscapes become the new normal. Then the mountains come in to view.

And as I drive through here a voice rises inside me, imploring I could live here. It feels right to be in this area…

“Mooommmmmm, are we close?”

Reality bites.

We sprang is on the kids 2 nights ago. Surprisingly, we weren’t peppered with millions of questions like “Will there be beds at the hotel?” and “Will the hotel have chairs?” I was sure we’d get a million of those. Of course, we’re not there yet, so there’s plenty of time.

I’ll be bringing the EEE. So, assuming that there’s wifi at the hotel and I’m not too tired, I’ll still have web access.

For now, time to pack up the car…

There are days where I’m convinced it would have been better had I not gotten out of bed. Where everything is a fight and a struggle. Every little thing the kids do is wrong and my reaction to those things is no better. Heck, even the dogs are steering clear.

Why? What happens that everything if so off? So one of them spills milk. What’s the big deal? Then they pull an attitude and refuse to do anything about the spill. Is that my fault? Are they picking up on my own emotions, thus making them worse off? Is yelling at them for their intransigence really solving anything? Aren’t I just reinforcing a bad attitude as well as modeling exactly how not to deal with a bad situation?

Since, presumably, I’m the only grown-up around at that moment, why couldn’t I act the role? Why should I expect the kids to act the part when I’m incapable?

How do you turn this stuff around? An apology? Will they even understand what I’m apologizing for? Do I just force myself to take everything slowly? Can I right the ship just through an act of will? Against current that are clearly, for today, steering me towards snapping, anger and misdirected sarcasm?

These days where I’m at my worst, and everything that happens seems to drive me further down that path, are the hardest. To hear myself and be unable to stop. To know that I’m not dealing with things properly and feel a hopelessness that I can get it right is frustrating.

The answer is so simple. I tell it to the kids all the time.

Just stop.

But the execution is so difficult.

I’ve always considered the lass to be accident prone. Not that she’s a klutz. It has more to do with her constant struggle to keep up with her big brother. And the fact that it is physically impossible for her to remain still. To the point that I think there’s some sort of law involved where, if violated, the world might end. Or something. She’s constantly spilling drinks, bumping into things, falling down etc. She takes her lumps and soldiers on unperturbed.

Yesterday, though, was a day to remember even by her standards. There was the bloody nose, followed by falling off the play gym onto her face, and finally she nicked herself with scissors while helping the Wife in the garden. As I said, quite a day of achievement.

By the time the scissor event happened, she was done with outrage. She merely noted what happened to the Wife, who then took her inside to clean and bandage her finger. No fuss, no outrage. “I didn’t keep the point down” was the most she had to say. It was almost as if, after her previous run-ins of the day, it was to be expected and taken in stride.

So here’s to hoping for a reprieve for her. At least for today.

The water arrived this morning and the pool was full in about 30 minutes. The kids were so excited that they just had to jump in right away. That hit a snag because the ladder for the first pool isn’t tall enough for the new pool. It took me some time to assemble the new ladder.

So shortly after I placed the new ladder into the pool, the kids learned that the pool still wasn’t to their liking. More specifically, the water is cold. North Atlantic cold. It did arrive fresh from a well this morning. It took the boy about 15 minutes to finally get off the ladder and he only lasted about 30 seconds in the water. The lass wasn’t much better, though she at least actually swam. Of course, the water is up to her shoulders, so she’s pretty much swimming already.

So now, the waiting game begins for how long it will take for the pool to warm up. The boy asks me every 15 minutes or so if the water is warmer. I find it hard to resist the temptation to tell him that it is. Of course, it’s only be fractions of a degree- but at least I’m technically accurate!

The new Easy Set pool arrived last night while we were out, so that will be the project du jour. The boy has already asked me approximately a half-million times when it will be set up. You’d think he’d never been in the water before. It’s looking a little overcast now, so I’ll probably get started on it shortly.

Then more power washing.

Good times. Good times.

Kids are a pain, to a large extent. They constantly challenge for power and control. The bicker with one another about who gets the red popsicle. They scream to high heaven when the world doesn’t suit them- which is almost always. They are masters of confounding. They’ll ask simple question about things we as adults don’t give a second thought to; resulting in a flummoxing decision making process of whether to answer the question, whether the question is answerable, how to answer the question, etc.

But not infrequently, they do things that can’t help but make you smile from your head to your toes. The sort of thing where no matter what trials the child put you through during the day, it was all worth it for that fleeting moment of grace. The Wife had such an experience the other night.

On occasion, the Wife sings a lullaby to the lass before bed time. On this night, it was “You Are My Sunshine.” The lass always listens quietly and it always puts a smile on her face. When the Wife finished and said “Good night” to her, the lass asked simply:

“Mom, how come I make you happy when skies are gray?”

How to explain that the answer is because of questions like that?

Upon returning home from our grocery store run, I employed the lass in helping to unload the car and put some things away. Her “taking things out of the car” consisted of her taking the bag of cold cuts and cheese in the house. She went the extra mile and opened the rear door of the car for me. Something she was quick to note to get credit for.

After everything was inside, I handed her the bag of potatoes and asked her to put it in the pantry. In the meantime, I staged the milk in front of the basement door so she could put it in the fridge downstairs.

When she finished wrestling with the potatoes, I asked her to put the milk away. Putting the milk away is something I always make them do. Upon completing my request, she immediately slouched forward, both arms going limp. As she did this, she tilted her head back. This is the come-on-how-much-do-I-have-to-do-around-here pose. She then replied:

“Dad, I can’t put the milk away ’cause my arms have no strength left after putting away the ‘tatoes.”

She did, eventually, put the milk away. I’m just surprised she isn’t taking a nap to recover from the effort required. What with trudging up and down the steps with a gallon of milk (well, down the steps with the milk) after having lost all strength from dealing with potatoes, I can’t imagine how she soldiers on…