Friday

5 a.m. Kate wakes up. She's been doing this lately. Not wailing, not unhappy and sleepy-eyed, but wakeful and calling for Mommy and Daddy. We've tried dressing her in warmer or cooler outfits, tried putting her to bed earlier or later....haven't figured it out yet. Today I went in and firmly said, "It's night time, go back to sleep." And left. She wailed for 5 minutes, then returned to babbling and stuff. Naps too long is one thought. Today I'll wake her up after a shortish nap and I guess we'll try putting her to bed later.

6 a.m. After lying in bed and maybe dozing a little over the past 45 minutes, I get her up. She's in good spirits, I feel unwell. We go through the morning ritual of her lining up all of her stuffed toys in the crib, then handing them to me one by one. "Aw-tin....Ty-nohne...Uma....Pabool....Sasha!" We lift the various Backyardigans out, then I get Katie out. I hear Jack getting up and shambling into the bathroom. As he's coming out, I turn on the hall light, surprising him with the brightness. Sorry, Jack. He rubs his eyes in confusion. We play upstairs a little bit, Emily and I taking breaks to make coffee, drink coffee, etc.

7 a.m. Coffee kicks in. Breakfast occurs. Both kids eat large bowls of cereal. I thrill Kate by discovering we do, in fact, have another box of Shredded Oats. "Dotes," she says happily. I say they can have cantelope after they finish their cereal to be sure they'll actually eat cereal, too. Kate finishes her bowl and drinks the milk in it and holds it up. "Done, Daddy! Done!" The girl is terrible at dinner time, but she's a pretty decent eater when the sun is up.

8 a.m. A mish-mash that includes TV (Backyardigans) and second breakfasts (first breakfast for me, second for them; usually waffles or somesuch). I'm working on my Saturday column when Jack brings me over an envelope of things and gives it to me. In it are little squares of paper on which he's drawn different things: a happy face, a monster, a kitty, a dog, a Mommy, a Daddy. About a dozen in all. "For you, Daddy." Awesome.

9 a.m. Kate is playing with dollhouse. "Help you, Daddy! Help you." Kate wants help, so I go over, and she's sitting the Mommy and Daddy at the table. "Help you, Daddy," she says. I help put the Daddy in the dinner chair. Kate beams. "It's dinner!" she says. Minutes later I'm across the room again and she heads into the kitchen, then back to her dollhouse. She's brought her own breakfast plate with leftover waffles out to the dollhouse. "Again, Daddy!" she says. The Daddy has fallen out of his chair, probably because his daughter woke him up at 5 a.m. and he's really tired. "Again, Daddy," she says. I tell her we need to get play food for them. "Oh," she says. She wheels the shopping cart of food over to the table. Then: "Daddy fall! Help you, Daddy! Help yoooouuuuu!"She feeds the Daddy a giant toy pancake. Better get him some coffee, too, Kate. She makes eating noises. Pretty funny. "Some? Some?" she says. Five minutes later, she's still loading up the tiny table with giant facsimiles of food. I check in. "It's dinner," she explains. The Daddy falls out of his chair again, knocked aside by a mammoth piece of bread. "Help you.....!" Kate wails. Then: "Daddy fall again!!!!!" A minute later, "Mommy fall again." Then: "I did it!" Then: "Daddy fall again." I could go on; the monologue continues for a while.

10 a.m. We decide to go to the library. Kate brings over her sneakers. "Sneakers? Sneakers?" I nod. She gets one on and hold up her foot proudly. "I did it!" she yells. "I did it!" Later, when one comes off in the car, I discover she's put them on the wrong feet. This happens, with statistical likelihood, about half the time.

11 a.m. We arrive at the library, me yelling at Kate every once in a while to make sure she's not sleeping. We go on up to the kids room and they run around while I try to find a good book for Katie. Jack picks out "Dino Hockey" for the second time. I try to talk him out of it without success. Kate plays with the puzzles; there's a turkey one that's missing the piece that's his head, which later strikes me as a little macabre. Anyway, we have fun and sign out four books, all of which I'm certain I'll be sick of within 2 days.

12 noon. We get home, eat lunch, and I put Kate down for her nap. Not as easy as you might think; she wants to stay up and play with Jack. Jack to me: "Daddy, isn't it time for Kate's nap? KATE, it's time for your nap!" Kate: "NOOOOOOOO. No! No nap. No....."

1 p.m. I put Kate down for her nap. For a little while she shakes the bars futilely, then gives in.

2 p.m. Jack breaks a toy, and holds it up for me to see. "Look, Daddy!" I say, "oh, it broke." Jack, in a deep voice, says, "Don't worry, Daddy." It's a little odd. Like he saw part of Mission: Impossible or something. Anyway, he fixes it. "Fixed it!" He's very pleased with himself.

2:15 p.m. Jack wants to play cars. And so off I go.