Jack had stomach flu this morning -- this blog is my way of communicating the news to my parents and sister, who spent last weekend with Jack, so, er, sorry -- so Emily stayed home with him and I took Kate to her swimming class. I used to take Jack all the time when he was around 2, but Emily normally takes Kate.
The locker room was fun. She stared at other people. How do you tell a 17-month old not to stare? I don't think the word has any meaning for her. I just tried to get us both changed and out of there as quickly as possible.
We headed into the pool. It was a little on the chilly side so she clung to me. Warmer in the water, so I tried keeping her mostly in it. There were a lot of deals where she was supposed to sit on the side of the pool and jump into my arms (Humpty jumps); I tended to put her up at the last moment and then she jumped right in. She liked that little jump a lot. She splashed a little, and was much better at kicking than paddling. (Even on the rare occasions when one of her thumbs wasn't in her mouth.) Most of the time, she clung to me. Definitely didn't like floating on her back, or having her arms anywhere but around my neck. Which was kind of nice.
It was essentially the same class I did with Jack two years ago. Paddle, paddle, paddle. "Motorboat, motorboat, oh so slow...motorboat, motorboat, oh so fast...." Humpty jumps. And the kick board, which I think she liked, again because she only had to work with her feet. Today, she wasn't much into putting her face in the water, although she did blow bubbles once. She also helped me when I put my face in the water to play peek-a-boo and almost swallowed half the pool, hauling me out and .... OK, not really.
At the end of the class we hoofed it over to our towels, her arms wrapped around my neck and her legs kind of clinging, monkey-like, to my side. It was sweet and reminded me that I need to do stuff with just her more often. I probably take her and our relationship for granted a little too much; something I'm also reminded of on those occasions when frankly she wants nothing to do with being handed from Mommy to Daddy; I'll stay right here in Mommy's arms, thank you very much. So yeah, I'll go swimming with Katie again sometime.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Jack and Kate tonight
Jack had a field trip today. At dinner, Emily asked him, "Did you have a buddy?" Kids need to have buddies on field trips.
"Yes," said Jack.
"Who was it?" asked Emily.
"Marin," said Jack, continuing to eat. A girl in his class.
"Do you and Teddy (his best friend) ever get to be buddies?" asked Emily.
"No," Jack said, matter-of-factly, "because we fool around too much."
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Jack was digging through old toys in Kate's room tonight. He found this animal noise music box that plays little tunes ("Round and round the mulberry bush...") and makes animal noises. Either because he was being thoughtful or simply because he wasn't interested in it and wanted it out of his way (I call it 50-50), he handed it to Kate. Kate took it like she was viewing a long-lost friend. Looked up at me and made a happy noise, holding it toward me. I hit a button to play the music.
It was like I flipped a switch on her. She broke out in a big smile and started doing the knee bends and gyrations -- it looks as if she's preparing to fly or something -- that can only mean Kate Dancing. It was pretty funny.
"Yes," said Jack.
"Who was it?" asked Emily.
"Marin," said Jack, continuing to eat. A girl in his class.
"Do you and Teddy (his best friend) ever get to be buddies?" asked Emily.
"No," Jack said, matter-of-factly, "because we fool around too much."
____________________________________
Jack was digging through old toys in Kate's room tonight. He found this animal noise music box that plays little tunes ("Round and round the mulberry bush...") and makes animal noises. Either because he was being thoughtful or simply because he wasn't interested in it and wanted it out of his way (I call it 50-50), he handed it to Kate. Kate took it like she was viewing a long-lost friend. Looked up at me and made a happy noise, holding it toward me. I hit a button to play the music.
It was like I flipped a switch on her. She broke out in a big smile and started doing the knee bends and gyrations -- it looks as if she's preparing to fly or something -- that can only mean Kate Dancing. It was pretty funny.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Giant Baby the Monkey
Jack has taken to calling his stuffed monkey "Giant Baby." Giant Baby the monkey. I like it.
He's getting kind of tired. He heard Nana (we're in Vermont) say she was going to give their dog Molly some water. He went over to her. "Are you going to give Wally Mawter?"
This afternoon he drew pictures with Robin. He drew a monkey. And another monkey. And a monkey with hair on its head. And more monkeys. Each one more beautiful than the last.
Last night at dinner Jack ate a plate of spaghetti, meatballs, two pieces of bread, a plate of tomatoes (we call it a Jack salad), and ice cream for dessert. Then went over to Nana and kissed her. Then went over to Baba and stood at his feet until Baba noticed him. "Baba, will you go play cars with me?" So they went into the living room and played cars.
These cars. Jack discovered my collection of matchbox cars from 30 years ago. He was fascinated. He went through all of them, picking out certain ones that had hooks to pull trailers, ones that the doors opened, ones that he liked the color, etc. Played with them for about an hour. Put them all back into their carrying case before dinner. Played with Baba with them. Played with me with them. Put them all away again. Went to bed.
We went sledding today. Jack whooped and laughed appropriately as we zipped down the back hill. Took plenty of joy in hitting Aunt Robin with a snowball -- not a bad shot, actually. Laughed it up as I dragged him around the yard, then gamely tried to pull me on the sled; I did most of the work. It was beautiful and sunny, and even though the snow didn't work for a snowman -- crust over powder -- it was great anyway.
My blog was interrupted by being pulled into a finding things game. We had to find beanbags he'd hidden all over the house. He's very helpful though. As we walk into the living room, he strides right over to the couch and says, "One's underneath this pillow!"
He presented me with a folded piece of paper as a gift. He said it was a computer. That was enough to tell me I work too much sometimes.
We also played a bear hunt game. This basically consists of walking around with Nana's flashlight and saying, "Is there a bear in there?" And then he flashes the light wildly. A good game, if a big one-dimensional. Jack's scream of delight when you say, "LOOK! a Bear!" is fun, though.
Jack did some puzzles on his own, mastered them, and then invited me to join him. As I struggled, he's both instructive ("Here, try that piece there") and encouraging. "I think you know where that one goes. Don't you? Here. See, you did know."
Aunt Robin is giving him a bath as I write this. I think he's teaching her how to play with the same shark toy I played with 30 years ago.
Robin is being silly, pretending to be the shark. Jack's laughter is sweet, little peals of joy. When he laugh like that, his face glows a little.
I should go get his pajamas ready.
He's getting kind of tired. He heard Nana (we're in Vermont) say she was going to give their dog Molly some water. He went over to her. "Are you going to give Wally Mawter?"
This afternoon he drew pictures with Robin. He drew a monkey. And another monkey. And a monkey with hair on its head. And more monkeys. Each one more beautiful than the last.
Last night at dinner Jack ate a plate of spaghetti, meatballs, two pieces of bread, a plate of tomatoes (we call it a Jack salad), and ice cream for dessert. Then went over to Nana and kissed her. Then went over to Baba and stood at his feet until Baba noticed him. "Baba, will you go play cars with me?" So they went into the living room and played cars.
These cars. Jack discovered my collection of matchbox cars from 30 years ago. He was fascinated. He went through all of them, picking out certain ones that had hooks to pull trailers, ones that the doors opened, ones that he liked the color, etc. Played with them for about an hour. Put them all back into their carrying case before dinner. Played with Baba with them. Played with me with them. Put them all away again. Went to bed.
We went sledding today. Jack whooped and laughed appropriately as we zipped down the back hill. Took plenty of joy in hitting Aunt Robin with a snowball -- not a bad shot, actually. Laughed it up as I dragged him around the yard, then gamely tried to pull me on the sled; I did most of the work. It was beautiful and sunny, and even though the snow didn't work for a snowman -- crust over powder -- it was great anyway.
My blog was interrupted by being pulled into a finding things game. We had to find beanbags he'd hidden all over the house. He's very helpful though. As we walk into the living room, he strides right over to the couch and says, "One's underneath this pillow!"
He presented me with a folded piece of paper as a gift. He said it was a computer. That was enough to tell me I work too much sometimes.
We also played a bear hunt game. This basically consists of walking around with Nana's flashlight and saying, "Is there a bear in there?" And then he flashes the light wildly. A good game, if a big one-dimensional. Jack's scream of delight when you say, "LOOK! a Bear!" is fun, though.
Jack did some puzzles on his own, mastered them, and then invited me to join him. As I struggled, he's both instructive ("Here, try that piece there") and encouraging. "I think you know where that one goes. Don't you? Here. See, you did know."
Aunt Robin is giving him a bath as I write this. I think he's teaching her how to play with the same shark toy I played with 30 years ago.
Robin is being silly, pretending to be the shark. Jack's laughter is sweet, little peals of joy. When he laugh like that, his face glows a little.
I should go get his pajamas ready.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Car etiquette
Jack has started playing with his cars again recently. He has a bunch of them, what we used to call Matchbox cars I guess, in different styles and shapes and colors. He watched the movie "Cars" recently, maybe that played a factor in his renewed interest.
So we were playing with them before bed tonight. I think it will work best as a Jack monologue, because it basically was, with me saying "Oh," and "I see," and "OK" every so often.
"You be this little blue car and I'll be the red one. The Monster one. (I'd explained how the one with the big wheels could be called a "monster truck" -- he liked that.) We'll just talk, and then we'll get on the big blue truck. And go for a ride. He's the Daddy truck.
"I want to be this one, too. I'll be these two cars. You be those two cars. I want to be this one, too. I'll be these four. Yes.
"Here, you be on the trailer. I'll be here.
"You be the fire truck. I'll be the police car. And this one is....is....this is the fire cooler car. He makes fires hotter. He's bad." Here, Jack nodded sagely; he was the expert, and we (Emily had joined the game) were learning about the various cars from him. He took his responsibility seriously. "You need to put the fire out with your fire squirter." But, I asked, what if the fire is too hot, because of the fire cooler car making it hotter?
"Well....but you have a hose, and it squirts water. And water is very cold." He was nodding again; I was the child, he was the adult. "The water is so cold that it will put the fire out. Water is very cold."
Next, we lined up the cars, organized into families. All the red cars, all the blue cars, all the yellow cars. The "mostly" red cars also worked into this; a red and blue car went between the blue cars and the red cars. It was nice.
The fire cooler car, which was red, was now in the family of red cars. I said to Jack, but isn't he a bad guy? "No. He turned good. He's good now."
So we were playing with them before bed tonight. I think it will work best as a Jack monologue, because it basically was, with me saying "Oh," and "I see," and "OK" every so often.
"You be this little blue car and I'll be the red one. The Monster one. (I'd explained how the one with the big wheels could be called a "monster truck" -- he liked that.) We'll just talk, and then we'll get on the big blue truck. And go for a ride. He's the Daddy truck.
"I want to be this one, too. I'll be these two cars. You be those two cars. I want to be this one, too. I'll be these four. Yes.
"Here, you be on the trailer. I'll be here.
"You be the fire truck. I'll be the police car. And this one is....is....this is the fire cooler car. He makes fires hotter. He's bad." Here, Jack nodded sagely; he was the expert, and we (Emily had joined the game) were learning about the various cars from him. He took his responsibility seriously. "You need to put the fire out with your fire squirter." But, I asked, what if the fire is too hot, because of the fire cooler car making it hotter?
"Well....but you have a hose, and it squirts water. And water is very cold." He was nodding again; I was the child, he was the adult. "The water is so cold that it will put the fire out. Water is very cold."
Next, we lined up the cars, organized into families. All the red cars, all the blue cars, all the yellow cars. The "mostly" red cars also worked into this; a red and blue car went between the blue cars and the red cars. It was nice.
The fire cooler car, which was red, was now in the family of red cars. I said to Jack, but isn't he a bad guy? "No. He turned good. He's good now."
Friday, February 13, 2009
Kids on Vacation, Day 5
The place looks like a bomb hit it. You can't step anywhere in the living room without getting a lego embedded in your foot, there's a stuffed Backyardigan at each corner, the puzzles are officially unfinishable because key pieces are shoved into vents, and when I put my foot down I almost hope I step on a lego because the alternative is one of Jack's little cars that will end up landing me on my back, or a piece of the apple slice Kate was wandering around with yesterday afternoon. Along those same lines, there's a smell in the kitchen that I'm not sure what it is. I'm hoping it's some kind of food.
Jack licks his lips too much, gets whiny the more tired he gets, and likes to stack the deck in "Candyland." Kate doesn't want to sit in her high chair anymore, does colorful things like spitting out her milk, and wants to do whatever Jack is doing, even when it results in her nearly braining herself on the edge of an end table.
It's absolutely impossible to get anything done with both kids here. Kate wants to be picked up or have books read to her, and when she plays on her own, I'm constantly running to save her from climbing up the stairs, falling over the arm of the couch, or otherwise risking injury. And that doesn't even include stopping her from beating on the TV, sitting on the DVR, eating magic markers, or hitting Jack with small blocks. Jack either wants to play with me or, when playing "by himself," says "Daddy?" every minute and a half, typically with a question like, "Will you fix this?" or "Can you open this?" or "Will you play with me?" I'm exhausted. My bad elbow hurts from picking Kate up all the time. I'm probably getting Emily's cold.
That was basically the week, start to finish, in a nutshell. The kids drove me up the wall, capped off by today, when we went out in the driveway and drove Thomas the Tank Engine around, the two of them taking turns on the toy that's really too small for Jack and too big for Katie. But not too small that Jack didn't have a blast anyway, and not too big that Kate didn't say "Whee! Wheeeeeeee!" when she sat on it and Jack pushed her around the driveway, me worrying about her falling off with every harrowing foot of pavement.
So yeah, really tough week. And I'm very lucky.
Jack licks his lips too much, gets whiny the more tired he gets, and likes to stack the deck in "Candyland." Kate doesn't want to sit in her high chair anymore, does colorful things like spitting out her milk, and wants to do whatever Jack is doing, even when it results in her nearly braining herself on the edge of an end table.
It's absolutely impossible to get anything done with both kids here. Kate wants to be picked up or have books read to her, and when she plays on her own, I'm constantly running to save her from climbing up the stairs, falling over the arm of the couch, or otherwise risking injury. And that doesn't even include stopping her from beating on the TV, sitting on the DVR, eating magic markers, or hitting Jack with small blocks. Jack either wants to play with me or, when playing "by himself," says "Daddy?" every minute and a half, typically with a question like, "Will you fix this?" or "Can you open this?" or "Will you play with me?" I'm exhausted. My bad elbow hurts from picking Kate up all the time. I'm probably getting Emily's cold.
That was basically the week, start to finish, in a nutshell. The kids drove me up the wall, capped off by today, when we went out in the driveway and drove Thomas the Tank Engine around, the two of them taking turns on the toy that's really too small for Jack and too big for Katie. But not too small that Jack didn't have a blast anyway, and not too big that Kate didn't say "Whee! Wheeeeeeee!" when she sat on it and Jack pushed her around the driveway, me worrying about her falling off with every harrowing foot of pavement.
So yeah, really tough week. And I'm very lucky.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Kids on Vacation, Day 4
Four days in and we're all failing a bit. Jack's getting punchy. I figured out that normally he sleeps 10 hours per night and at least 90 minutes or 2 hours at school. Now he's sleeping 10 hours a night and is up all day. Plus I've got him doing laundry, tilling the soil, fetching water from the well...no, just kidding. As for Kate, she's doing OK, but she tries to keep up with Jack, plus she wears herself out climbing up the stairs and jumping on and off the couch and of course washing dishes and so forth. As for me, I'm run ragged catching Kate and soothing Jack when she hits him with a block or something, which happens fairly often.
Anyway, today my big plan was hitting the comic store in Stamford. The trip to the Comic Con in NYC last Saturday has kind of revitalized my interest; happens sometimes. Anyway, Jack took an interest in that he had received $5 as a gift recently from Gramma, so I told him he could buy a comic or toy if he could find one for $5. Kate, I told her she could sleep a little in the car on the way there, which she promptly did. I got my comics, Jack got one of the more horrific looking Superboy action figures I've ever seen -- weird straps and contraptions sticking out all over the place, I have no idea what it's going for -- and loved it to pieces, or at least will for the next 2 days, and Kate got caught up on sleep.
Back at home, I'd say there were three events worthy of mention.
- Jack and Kate playing together. Granted, Kate hits Jack with toys sometimes. And Jack is a little possessive of some things, especially hard things with sharp edges, coincidentally enough. No, that's a joke. In any case, them playing together will no doubt involve one of them wailing angrily or miserably every 2-3 minutes. But apart from that, they're awesome together. Today they stacked legos a little bit together. Did a little Kate puzzle. Threw various toys around the living room. Chased each other around the island in the center of the apartment a little bit. Whacked on the drum and xylophones with the drumsticks with fairly terrifying intensity. Altogether, it was nice.
- Clean up, clean up. I started and got Jack to help me: picking up legos and the toys hurled across the living room and such. And Kate jumped in: putting musical instruments into the drum (along with basically everything else she found lying around), busily walking back and forth to the shelves with toys that were frankly too big for her, which resulted in her trying to put one too high, dropping it, and judging by her wail probably hitting her toe with it. But the girl gets major points for effort.
- After a few days of hearing CDs like Wonder Pets, Backyardigans, and ABC Music & Me, I threw in R.E.M.'s Murmur. Classic alternative rock (at the time; maybe not so much anymore) album. And when "Radio Free Europe" started, Kate immediately, immediately, started dancing. Pivoting, bending over, waving her arms a little bit. She doesn't move her feet at all, just her body. Jack doing his little running in place dance. He lifts his feet, but doesn't go anywhere; in place, though, he's all over the map. He generally looks like he's feeling the music, which is kind of cool. And me, who can't dance and probably wouldn't much anyway to R.E.M., wishing I had the video camera handy, not having it, so just trying to drink it all in.
Anyway, today my big plan was hitting the comic store in Stamford. The trip to the Comic Con in NYC last Saturday has kind of revitalized my interest; happens sometimes. Anyway, Jack took an interest in that he had received $5 as a gift recently from Gramma, so I told him he could buy a comic or toy if he could find one for $5. Kate, I told her she could sleep a little in the car on the way there, which she promptly did. I got my comics, Jack got one of the more horrific looking Superboy action figures I've ever seen -- weird straps and contraptions sticking out all over the place, I have no idea what it's going for -- and loved it to pieces, or at least will for the next 2 days, and Kate got caught up on sleep.
Back at home, I'd say there were three events worthy of mention.
- Jack and Kate playing together. Granted, Kate hits Jack with toys sometimes. And Jack is a little possessive of some things, especially hard things with sharp edges, coincidentally enough. No, that's a joke. In any case, them playing together will no doubt involve one of them wailing angrily or miserably every 2-3 minutes. But apart from that, they're awesome together. Today they stacked legos a little bit together. Did a little Kate puzzle. Threw various toys around the living room. Chased each other around the island in the center of the apartment a little bit. Whacked on the drum and xylophones with the drumsticks with fairly terrifying intensity. Altogether, it was nice.
- Clean up, clean up. I started and got Jack to help me: picking up legos and the toys hurled across the living room and such. And Kate jumped in: putting musical instruments into the drum (along with basically everything else she found lying around), busily walking back and forth to the shelves with toys that were frankly too big for her, which resulted in her trying to put one too high, dropping it, and judging by her wail probably hitting her toe with it. But the girl gets major points for effort.
- After a few days of hearing CDs like Wonder Pets, Backyardigans, and ABC Music & Me, I threw in R.E.M.'s Murmur. Classic alternative rock (at the time; maybe not so much anymore) album. And when "Radio Free Europe" started, Kate immediately, immediately, started dancing. Pivoting, bending over, waving her arms a little bit. She doesn't move her feet at all, just her body. Jack doing his little running in place dance. He lifts his feet, but doesn't go anywhere; in place, though, he's all over the map. He generally looks like he's feeling the music, which is kind of cool. And me, who can't dance and probably wouldn't much anyway to R.E.M., wishing I had the video camera handy, not having it, so just trying to drink it all in.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Kids on Vacation, Day 37, I mean 3
- The lack of napping may be starting to catch up with Jack; he's a little bit sillier and today he befriended a foam dart that he found in our back yard. He named it Sodo. No, I'm not making this up.
- It was beautiful today; I think we saved about 50 bucks on our monthly heating bill today alone. The plan was to have a "school at home" day, in which we adhered to Jack's schedule from school. He was kind of into the idea (at least until complaining about it roughly 10 minutes after waking up), but it didn't really work. We had "Circle Time" and "Music class" directly after breakfast, at which point Jack said it was time for snack. Unfortunately, what takes until 10:30 at school only took us up until 9 a.m., which is a little early, I think, for snack.
- Highlight of the day -- the week, really -- was going outside into the backyard. It was warm and sunny, and the kids greeted the yard as if they hadn't been outside in months (which it may have felt like, although actually we were out in the snow about a week ago, but whatever). I have pictures on my phone that I have no idea how to download of them running about like crazy people, throwing their arms over their heads like George in the Seinfeld episode where he briefly achieves success and happiness as a hand model. That was playing in the yard: me standing in one spot (or sitting at the table) while they ran circles, back and forth, around the tree, up onto the neighbor's yard. There was one patch of snow/ice about the size of a pizza in the entire yard, and both of them naturally managed to find their way onto it, slipping and soaking their pants in the process. Kate sat there for a few minutes, clearly confused by the whole thing. "I...was running...and now I'm sitting down?"
- Jack made a little lego car with wheels and a steering wheel and helicopter blades on top ("It's a flying car", he explained) that was so impressive I can scarcely believe it. He likes my idea for careers for him and Katie: he can be an architect, designing tall buildings, and she can be in demolition, knocking them down. Because that's pretty much what happens in our house on a regular basis: Jack builds, Katie destroys.
A pretty good day.
- It was beautiful today; I think we saved about 50 bucks on our monthly heating bill today alone. The plan was to have a "school at home" day, in which we adhered to Jack's schedule from school. He was kind of into the idea (at least until complaining about it roughly 10 minutes after waking up), but it didn't really work. We had "Circle Time" and "Music class" directly after breakfast, at which point Jack said it was time for snack. Unfortunately, what takes until 10:30 at school only took us up until 9 a.m., which is a little early, I think, for snack.
- Highlight of the day -- the week, really -- was going outside into the backyard. It was warm and sunny, and the kids greeted the yard as if they hadn't been outside in months (which it may have felt like, although actually we were out in the snow about a week ago, but whatever). I have pictures on my phone that I have no idea how to download of them running about like crazy people, throwing their arms over their heads like George in the Seinfeld episode where he briefly achieves success and happiness as a hand model. That was playing in the yard: me standing in one spot (or sitting at the table) while they ran circles, back and forth, around the tree, up onto the neighbor's yard. There was one patch of snow/ice about the size of a pizza in the entire yard, and both of them naturally managed to find their way onto it, slipping and soaking their pants in the process. Kate sat there for a few minutes, clearly confused by the whole thing. "I...was running...and now I'm sitting down?"
- Jack made a little lego car with wheels and a steering wheel and helicopter blades on top ("It's a flying car", he explained) that was so impressive I can scarcely believe it. He likes my idea for careers for him and Katie: he can be an architect, designing tall buildings, and she can be in demolition, knocking them down. Because that's pretty much what happens in our house on a regular basis: Jack builds, Katie destroys.
A pretty good day.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Kids on Vacation, Day 2
- Jack naps at school but not at home. So by today, he hasn't napped since last Thursday. It starts to catch up with him. He starts getting more tired easier, a little crankier, a little whinier. It actually wasn't bad today, though he was just a little bit sleepier than usual.
- It's great playing with Jack, but there are times when it can be frustrating. Every so often I need him to play on his own, but if you tell him that, he generally reacts poorly. "But I don't want to play on my own....it's no fun....Daddy...." I feel bad writing it because plenty of times I really want to play with him, and it's not like he's here all the time. Still, a common scene these last couple of days is Jack wanting me to play with the castle with him at the same time Kate is walking over waving a book, and meanwhile I haven't had breakfast yet....I have no idea how people do this every day, week after week. I have a tremendous amount of respect for it, it's insane. This is my second day of being alone with both kids and I'm freaking exhausted.
- There was a 2 p.m. movie at the library, the animated classic Charlotte's Web. I loved it as a kid and so decided to take Jack and Kate to it. Kate normally naps from noon to 2, so I put her down a little earlier. At 1 or so, she woke up, and I started to give her lunch. Jack and I had already eaten. At 1:20, I figured it was time to get ready to go. (It's about a 10 minute drive to the library, tops.) Well, by the time I'd cleaned Kate up, changed her diaper, dressed her, got Jack dressed, had him go to the bathroom, put water and snacks in the diaper bag, got their shoes on, got their jackets on, put a leash on Jack's puppy (a string from a gift Aunt Robin gave him on his stuffed puppy), got them both into the car, and pulled out, it was 2. All the way there I said to Jack, they might not let us in, we'll just look at books, etc. (Jack was not thrilled at the possibility of being denied a movie.) We parked, went into the library, hoofed it up to the third floor children's room....only to discover the movie was in the auditorium, which was downstairs and outside and into a little theater. We got there just in time to see Fern crying as she had to give Wilbur away. Excellent.
- The movie itself was still fun. Granted, the next scene we saw was Wilbur being told by the sheep he'd be killed and turned into bacon and ham, and Wilbur wailing, "I don't want to die!" Jack looked a little taken aback by the whole thing, as was I (I believe the sheep used the word "killed" four or five times), but that was better than the kids ahead of us who started wailing and had to be taken out of the theatre. In fairness, that happened every 10 minutes or so, and it didn't always involve threats of death to Wilbur; on at least one occasion it happened when Charlotte was singing about keeping your chin up and another when Temptleton was having his smorgasbord at the County Fair, a scene that ages surprisingly well; I think I laughed as much as Jack did at Templeton's big belly.
- Kate pointed at the screen saying "Bahhh! Baaa! AAA!!" for about the first 10 minutes; fortunately we were near the back. Then she settled in for a bit, then wanted to walk up and down the aisles, then sat in a seat, then was back on my lap, then walked around, then fussed a little, then enjoyed a snack of water and goldfish (good call, Daddy), then reluctantly watched, then enjoyed the music, then walked around some more. Jack danced in the aisles during a couple of songs late, which was nice. I had forgotten things closed with a barbershop quartet singing about Some Pig. Anyway, it was fun. We made it till the end, much to my surprise. Oh, when Kate saw people clapping for Wilbur on the screen, she clapped too.
- Driving home I was exhausted. Planning to make eggs and toast for dinner, before later sucking it up and making fajitas, which of course the kids didn't eat anyway. While I did that, Kate got into trouble. Repeatedly. Messing up Jack's lego towers ("I mind!" he yelled), pulling leaves off our plants, climbing on top of the DVR (gah!), climbing on the stairs, pulling caps off markers....just being Kate, basically.
- Music on the radio as I did dishes; Human League I think. Jack started dancing. Making silly faces, throwing his elbows around, shaking his hips. Then he came around, stood behind me, and put his hands on either side of my hips. "Daddy, shake your butt!" And laughed hysterically. I don't know what to say to that one.
- Day ended standing in the doorway to Kate's room right before we put them to bed, watching Jack and Kate play with one of her stacking toys -- putting different sized rings onto a post. "Here, Kate," said Jack. "First you put on yours. Now it's my turn. Now you. Then..." Kate laughed and clapped. And then they did it over and over again. That was OK.
- It's great playing with Jack, but there are times when it can be frustrating. Every so often I need him to play on his own, but if you tell him that, he generally reacts poorly. "But I don't want to play on my own....it's no fun....Daddy...." I feel bad writing it because plenty of times I really want to play with him, and it's not like he's here all the time. Still, a common scene these last couple of days is Jack wanting me to play with the castle with him at the same time Kate is walking over waving a book, and meanwhile I haven't had breakfast yet....I have no idea how people do this every day, week after week. I have a tremendous amount of respect for it, it's insane. This is my second day of being alone with both kids and I'm freaking exhausted.
- There was a 2 p.m. movie at the library, the animated classic Charlotte's Web. I loved it as a kid and so decided to take Jack and Kate to it. Kate normally naps from noon to 2, so I put her down a little earlier. At 1 or so, she woke up, and I started to give her lunch. Jack and I had already eaten. At 1:20, I figured it was time to get ready to go. (It's about a 10 minute drive to the library, tops.) Well, by the time I'd cleaned Kate up, changed her diaper, dressed her, got Jack dressed, had him go to the bathroom, put water and snacks in the diaper bag, got their shoes on, got their jackets on, put a leash on Jack's puppy (a string from a gift Aunt Robin gave him on his stuffed puppy), got them both into the car, and pulled out, it was 2. All the way there I said to Jack, they might not let us in, we'll just look at books, etc. (Jack was not thrilled at the possibility of being denied a movie.) We parked, went into the library, hoofed it up to the third floor children's room....only to discover the movie was in the auditorium, which was downstairs and outside and into a little theater. We got there just in time to see Fern crying as she had to give Wilbur away. Excellent.
- The movie itself was still fun. Granted, the next scene we saw was Wilbur being told by the sheep he'd be killed and turned into bacon and ham, and Wilbur wailing, "I don't want to die!" Jack looked a little taken aback by the whole thing, as was I (I believe the sheep used the word "killed" four or five times), but that was better than the kids ahead of us who started wailing and had to be taken out of the theatre. In fairness, that happened every 10 minutes or so, and it didn't always involve threats of death to Wilbur; on at least one occasion it happened when Charlotte was singing about keeping your chin up and another when Temptleton was having his smorgasbord at the County Fair, a scene that ages surprisingly well; I think I laughed as much as Jack did at Templeton's big belly.
- Kate pointed at the screen saying "Bahhh! Baaa! AAA!!" for about the first 10 minutes; fortunately we were near the back. Then she settled in for a bit, then wanted to walk up and down the aisles, then sat in a seat, then was back on my lap, then walked around, then fussed a little, then enjoyed a snack of water and goldfish (good call, Daddy), then reluctantly watched, then enjoyed the music, then walked around some more. Jack danced in the aisles during a couple of songs late, which was nice. I had forgotten things closed with a barbershop quartet singing about Some Pig. Anyway, it was fun. We made it till the end, much to my surprise. Oh, when Kate saw people clapping for Wilbur on the screen, she clapped too.
- Driving home I was exhausted. Planning to make eggs and toast for dinner, before later sucking it up and making fajitas, which of course the kids didn't eat anyway. While I did that, Kate got into trouble. Repeatedly. Messing up Jack's lego towers ("I mind!" he yelled), pulling leaves off our plants, climbing on top of the DVR (gah!), climbing on the stairs, pulling caps off markers....just being Kate, basically.
- Music on the radio as I did dishes; Human League I think. Jack started dancing. Making silly faces, throwing his elbows around, shaking his hips. Then he came around, stood behind me, and put his hands on either side of my hips. "Daddy, shake your butt!" And laughed hysterically. I don't know what to say to that one.
- Day ended standing in the doorway to Kate's room right before we put them to bed, watching Jack and Kate play with one of her stacking toys -- putting different sized rings onto a post. "Here, Kate," said Jack. "First you put on yours. Now it's my turn. Now you. Then..." Kate laughed and clapped. And then they did it over and over again. That was OK.
Monday, February 09, 2009
Kids on Vacation, Day 1
The kids are home all week, so I'm going to blog every night -- I hear that "daily" is actually something many bloggers do -- about the highlights and lowlights. Here goes.
- Both kids slept well, a major plus. If either wakes up too early, the other normally does, too. The results include the day starting way too soon, Kate wanting to nap too soon, Jack getting cranky too early, etc.
- At one point Kate and Jack both seemed to be playing nicely, so I went in the kitchen to wash a few dishes. I'd only been in there a few minutes when I heard Kate coming over out of the living room. I looked down, prepared to be annoyed that she wasn't still playing happily. She stood there, looking up at me, holding a large book in her hands, extending it slightly. Her eyes looked hopeful. How does anyone resist that? The dishes could wait.
- Kate was sitting on my lap as I read a book to her. Jack came over and sat down next to us, listening. Then he moved closer. Then he sat on my right knee. Then they were both on my lap, elbows cramped against each other. Cute.
- The cleaning crew showed up at 11, around the time Kate appeared to most want a nap. Excellent. But, we played downstairs while they cleaned upstairs and then she napped anyway when they moved downstairs. Jack and I sat in his room and played with lincoln logs. We made a doghouse for his small stuffed dog -- his favorite stuffed friend today.
- Jack played fetch with Kate. He sits on the couch, she brings him stuffed Backyardigan toys, he tosses them across the room, she laughs and brings them back. I know it's terrible, but they both seem to enjoy it, so I don't have the heart to say it's wrong or whatever. Now that I think about it, Kate often brings me my shoes (without my asking) or my slippers (if I do). Hmm. She likes to bring things from one place to another, I think it's really that simple.
- Jack and I did a puzzle composed off little blocks (there are six different puzzles you can make, one for each side of the cube. As we worked on the puzzle, Kate took the blocks one by one and brought them over to a table, where she made a stack. Her stack was at 5 by the time we had the puzzle complete (except for 5 missing pieces). At this point, something had to give. Kate moved onto something else and Jack and I finished the puzzle.
- Kate likes to have books read over, and over, and over. There's this "touch and feel wild animal." It has eight pages, and about five words on each page. "Touch the lion's furry mane." That kind of thing. Pretty dull, right? I read the thing about 10 times today. IN A ROW. You would think she'd get tired of it. She did not.
- Both appear to love the same foods right now. Yogurt, apples, goldfish. I gave Jack an apple while Kate was napping. When Kate woke up, she had an apple, while Jack had yogurt. Then she wanted yogurt. And Jack wanted more apple. I then gave Jack a few goldfish. Kate wanted some goldfish too. Then Jack reached for a slice of Kate's apple. It was a scene. Tomorrow I will do things differently.
A pretty good day. Tomorrow we'll leave the house.
- Both kids slept well, a major plus. If either wakes up too early, the other normally does, too. The results include the day starting way too soon, Kate wanting to nap too soon, Jack getting cranky too early, etc.
- At one point Kate and Jack both seemed to be playing nicely, so I went in the kitchen to wash a few dishes. I'd only been in there a few minutes when I heard Kate coming over out of the living room. I looked down, prepared to be annoyed that she wasn't still playing happily. She stood there, looking up at me, holding a large book in her hands, extending it slightly. Her eyes looked hopeful. How does anyone resist that? The dishes could wait.
- Kate was sitting on my lap as I read a book to her. Jack came over and sat down next to us, listening. Then he moved closer. Then he sat on my right knee. Then they were both on my lap, elbows cramped against each other. Cute.
- The cleaning crew showed up at 11, around the time Kate appeared to most want a nap. Excellent. But, we played downstairs while they cleaned upstairs and then she napped anyway when they moved downstairs. Jack and I sat in his room and played with lincoln logs. We made a doghouse for his small stuffed dog -- his favorite stuffed friend today.
- Jack played fetch with Kate. He sits on the couch, she brings him stuffed Backyardigan toys, he tosses them across the room, she laughs and brings them back. I know it's terrible, but they both seem to enjoy it, so I don't have the heart to say it's wrong or whatever. Now that I think about it, Kate often brings me my shoes (without my asking) or my slippers (if I do). Hmm. She likes to bring things from one place to another, I think it's really that simple.
- Jack and I did a puzzle composed off little blocks (there are six different puzzles you can make, one for each side of the cube. As we worked on the puzzle, Kate took the blocks one by one and brought them over to a table, where she made a stack. Her stack was at 5 by the time we had the puzzle complete (except for 5 missing pieces). At this point, something had to give. Kate moved onto something else and Jack and I finished the puzzle.
- Kate likes to have books read over, and over, and over. There's this "touch and feel wild animal." It has eight pages, and about five words on each page. "Touch the lion's furry mane." That kind of thing. Pretty dull, right? I read the thing about 10 times today. IN A ROW. You would think she'd get tired of it. She did not.
- Both appear to love the same foods right now. Yogurt, apples, goldfish. I gave Jack an apple while Kate was napping. When Kate woke up, she had an apple, while Jack had yogurt. Then she wanted yogurt. And Jack wanted more apple. I then gave Jack a few goldfish. Kate wanted some goldfish too. Then Jack reached for a slice of Kate's apple. It was a scene. Tomorrow I will do things differently.
A pretty good day. Tomorrow we'll leave the house.
Wednesday, February 04, 2009
Field trip
Jack's class at school goes on field trips occasionally, and after the last one I learned that parents go along sometimes. Work is a little slower for me right now so I said I'd go to the next one. It was today, at the Bruce Museum and its new dinosaur exhibit -- which naturally we'd actually gone to about a month ago. Regardless, I met his class there for the trip.
I got there a few minutes before them and held the door as the class came in. Some of the kids recognized me (Teddy: "Jack, your DADDY IS HERE!"), and then I heard Jack somewhere in the back: "Daddy!" He emerged from the crowd to say Hi. I of course wanted to be both his Dad but unobtrusive, so I greeted him but encouraged him to keep holding his buddy's hand, a little girl who looked a little forlorn at being ditched.
We all stood in the lobby while the museum employee, Miss Caroline, went over the rules. "And what kinds of things don't we do in a museum?" "RUN!!!" "SHOUT!!!!!" "HIT!" "SHOUT!!!!" "That's right...." Every few moments Jack would look over his shoulder at me, turn, and beam. I think he felt proud that his Dad was there. Which was nice.
We went off into the dinosaur room, two by two in file. Everybody sat down at Miss Caroline's request: "Sit criss-cross." They all complied. She began her introductory lecture about dinosaurs, while the kids sat and every once in a while raised their hands eagerly, some shouting out questions or answers ("Wait until I call on you....Oh, I can't hear with all of you talking....That's right......No, dinosaurs didn't eat people.....People hadn't even been born yet....first there were dinosaurs, then they died out, and then people came." "No, GOD made the people!" shouted one little girl. "That's right....")
Jack raised his hand a lot, as did all the kids. Not to get too psychiatrist-y, but it was funny to see some kids eager to give their opinions, raising their hands and speaking as soon as she glanced in their general direction, or shouting out other kids, or staying quiet. Pretty much a full-time job for the teachers: "No, it's Maryn's turn....Yes, now you may speak....Let Miss Caroline speak.....Sit criss-cross...."
When she held up a dinosaur's skull, some kids oohed and aahed, while another said, "Where's the rest of it?" Jack said, to much amusement from the adults, "Did you cut its head off?" That was funny. Jack also said, when he was finally called on, "My Daddy and I found a pteradactyl once!!!" Which was news to me.
After that the kids toured the little room, seeing where you could dig for dinosaurs, seeing the big skeleton, and debating how tall dinosaurs were. "The Brachiasaurus was higher than this museum," said Miss Caroline. "Have you ever seen a school bus? He was as long as TWO school buses put together." Much oohing and aahing. Then they sat down with construction paper and glue sticks and got to build their own dinosaurs, then got crayons to draw the food they ate. Jack made a big plant-eater type, but decided to make him a meat eater: "That's a STEAK," he explained.
The negative of being on field trips is that Jack of course sees me and isn't totally the way he'd be if I weren't there. He wanted me near him, wanted to hold my hand at times, asked me for a drink of water or said he had to go to the bathroom (then changed his mind) -- just the kind of thing that told me he knew I was there.
The positive is that I saw Jack, and he saw me. He thought that was pretty cool. When I left, before he went off to the bus with his class, he came running over and gave me a big hug.
I thought that was pretty cool.
I got there a few minutes before them and held the door as the class came in. Some of the kids recognized me (Teddy: "Jack, your DADDY IS HERE!"), and then I heard Jack somewhere in the back: "Daddy!" He emerged from the crowd to say Hi. I of course wanted to be both his Dad but unobtrusive, so I greeted him but encouraged him to keep holding his buddy's hand, a little girl who looked a little forlorn at being ditched.
We all stood in the lobby while the museum employee, Miss Caroline, went over the rules. "And what kinds of things don't we do in a museum?" "RUN!!!" "SHOUT!!!!!" "HIT!" "SHOUT!!!!" "That's right...." Every few moments Jack would look over his shoulder at me, turn, and beam. I think he felt proud that his Dad was there. Which was nice.
We went off into the dinosaur room, two by two in file. Everybody sat down at Miss Caroline's request: "Sit criss-cross." They all complied. She began her introductory lecture about dinosaurs, while the kids sat and every once in a while raised their hands eagerly, some shouting out questions or answers ("Wait until I call on you....Oh, I can't hear with all of you talking....That's right......No, dinosaurs didn't eat people.....People hadn't even been born yet....first there were dinosaurs, then they died out, and then people came." "No, GOD made the people!" shouted one little girl. "That's right....")
Jack raised his hand a lot, as did all the kids. Not to get too psychiatrist-y, but it was funny to see some kids eager to give their opinions, raising their hands and speaking as soon as she glanced in their general direction, or shouting out other kids, or staying quiet. Pretty much a full-time job for the teachers: "No, it's Maryn's turn....Yes, now you may speak....Let Miss Caroline speak.....Sit criss-cross...."
When she held up a dinosaur's skull, some kids oohed and aahed, while another said, "Where's the rest of it?" Jack said, to much amusement from the adults, "Did you cut its head off?" That was funny. Jack also said, when he was finally called on, "My Daddy and I found a pteradactyl once!!!" Which was news to me.
After that the kids toured the little room, seeing where you could dig for dinosaurs, seeing the big skeleton, and debating how tall dinosaurs were. "The Brachiasaurus was higher than this museum," said Miss Caroline. "Have you ever seen a school bus? He was as long as TWO school buses put together." Much oohing and aahing. Then they sat down with construction paper and glue sticks and got to build their own dinosaurs, then got crayons to draw the food they ate. Jack made a big plant-eater type, but decided to make him a meat eater: "That's a STEAK," he explained.
The negative of being on field trips is that Jack of course sees me and isn't totally the way he'd be if I weren't there. He wanted me near him, wanted to hold my hand at times, asked me for a drink of water or said he had to go to the bathroom (then changed his mind) -- just the kind of thing that told me he knew I was there.
The positive is that I saw Jack, and he saw me. He thought that was pretty cool. When I left, before he went off to the bus with his class, he came running over and gave me a big hug.
I thought that was pretty cool.
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