Day with Jack and Kate

Emily let me sleep until 7. That was nice.

Came down and the kids were eating breakfast. Kate turned and smiled at me. Jack was already leaving the table but he at least glanced my way.

Jack and Kate watched a Backyardigans while I drank coffee and checked my email.

Emily went to work. Kate brought me the Eric Carle book with the big gorilla on it, Head to Toe or something like that. I read it to her.

I had breakfast. Jack and Kate had a second breakfast. Jack had two more bowls of cereal. It's crazy. If you give him a big bowl, he doesn't finish it. Give him a small bowl, and he'll eat 3 or 4 of them. Both ate strawberries. They like strawberries.

We went upstairs and got dressed, Kate in sweats, Jack in clothes he picked out. He did well. Emily tells me that one day last week he picked out an outfit of sweatpants, a long sleeve shirt, and an orange floral print Hawaiian shirt over it. Classic.

Went out for Jack's haircut. There was no line so Jack (who'd wanted me to read him a book at the barber, as we usually do) got to go right away. I told him I'd read a book after.

Kate walked all around the barber shop, again and again. Pausing at the barber chair each time to gaze up at Jack. The kindly old barber, Mr. Ruvo, stooped down to say hi to her. She looked at him for a long moment and then came right over to me and wrapped her arms around my legs. Oh well.

I read Kate books while Mr. Ruvo continued to cut. At one point Jack appeared to be joking with him, making small talk, I don't know. Just like a regular customer. It was funny. Then Mr. Ruvo said something to make him laugh. Jack has a great laugh.

After his haircut, when Jack climbed down from the chair, Kate wanted to climb up. When I pulled her away, she wailed. Wants to do everything just like her big brother.

I read Jack his book, a pretty lame version of "Billy Goats Gruff."

At home, we had lunch. Yogurt and avocado and ham for Kate. Hotdog and yogurt and an apple for Jack.

Kate went down for a nap, Jack watched "Cars." Daddy worked for an hour and then watched the end of the movie with Jack.

Kate woke up. We played upstairs a little, in all three rooms. Just ran around, me reading books every once in a while, or stopping Kate from banging on something with a toy or plastic toothbrush holder or Emily's contact lens case. She likes to bang things.

Came downstairs. I took a huge strip of paper off of Jack's easel and lay it on the floor. Gave Jack and Kate markers. We drew for a little bit. I drew my staples: dog, shark, dinosaur. Jack drew a happy face. Kate scrawled all over the paper, the floor, her clothes, whatever happened to be within reach.

Snacktime. Apples. Goldfish. Milk. I admit I don't know why I haven't had goldfish more often these past couple of decades. They're good!

Piggyback rides for the kids. I learned that Kate doesn't really understand the concept of an equal number of turns, and that even if she goes first, she also has to go last. And that she never wants the game to end even if Daddy's back is starting to ache painfully. Jack at least understands that, no doubt because he sees the tears of agony rolling down my cheeks. What can I say, the kids get heavy after a while. Plus there's the stress of running stooped over so I don't whack anyone's head on the doorframe.

Mommy comes home. Daddy goes to get pizza and opens a bottle of wine.

Dinner, hide and seek before bed, baths, story time, songs, good night.

A good day.

She Bangs

Kate was home sick today, although actually she was fine. She got sent home yesterday with eye boogers (that's probably the layman's term), and I got eye drops for her which cleared things up right away. Still, though, she had to stay home today.

Getting those eye drops, or getting more sleep last night, or both, made her a lot cheerier today. And what she really likes to do is bang things with other things.

First she walked around with a couple of plastic pirates from Jack's pirate ship. She likes banging them together, and laughing about it.

Then she walked around with plastic toothbrush holders. Which she likes to bang together. And laugh about it.

Then she decided she really liked the noise it made when you banged something against the side of the TV upstairs. First she banged things against the screen, which I quickly put a stop to. But then she banged things against the side, which I requested she stop. She did. For a moment. Then started again. The pirate, the toothbrush holder, Emily's contact lens case. All made slightly different banging sounds. She enjoyed it.

She also enjoyed my getting up to stop her. I stood up, she screamed with laughter and ran around behind the TV. I sat back down, she came around to the side, looked pointedly at me, and banged it again. I asked her not to. She paused. Started again. I got up. She laughed and ran around behind the TV.

Finally, I brought her downstairs and sat her down by her drum. Handed her her drumsticks. For about a minute, she banged.

Then lost interest, and wandered out to the kitchen looking for food.

Missing them

I've been away from the kids for the last week, helping my parents out up in Vermont. Until you spend that much time away, you don't realize the things you'll miss.

- I miss Jack saying after dinner, "Did I do pretty well?" (i.e., do I get to have dessert?)

- I miss Kate bringing me over a book like Backyardigans or Brown Bear, Brown Bear to read to her.

- I miss Jack placing whatever toy he's favoring this week on the little table next to the kitchen table while he eats his food.

- I miss Kate getting excited when she sees The Backyardigans on the TV.

- I miss Jack asking me to play Superheroes.

- I miss Kate trying to put on her own shoes or slippers.

- I miss singing Kate swing on a star and singing Jack high hopes before bedtime.

- I miss giving them baths.

- I miss getting Kate at school and having her run into my arms.

- I miss getting Jack at school and having him casually continue playing with his friends, but his little face lighting up at my being there.

- I miss Jack talking about his day. I miss Kate just making her random talking noises, which sometimes include "Daddy."

- I miss the two of them running around the backyard. I miss the two of them running around the driveway.

- I only kind of miss Kate wailing as I strap her into her car seat.

- I miss Kate standing up in her crib and babbling excitedly when I come to get her after her nap.

- I miss Jack coming in in the mornings, pointing out the clock radio and the fact that it's after 6 o'clock, and then giving me his stuffed toys while he goes in the bathroom to pee. I further miss him then shuffling into his room with his pajamas around his ankles to get a pair of underwear on.

- I miss making Lego structures with Jack. I miss doing block puzzles with Kate.

- I miss my kids.

Friday in the driveway

The gloomy weather gets to us all, so it was nice to have a sunny afternoon yesterday to get outside with the kids. First we tried the backyard, which was still wet and snow-covered. Jack was a little uncertain but ran around anyway, largely keeping to the grassy patches. Kate looked doubtful, but ran off in a straight line anyway, directly into some snow. After a little bit, she slipped and put her hand in the snow. She straightened up, gazing at her cold, wet hand with chagrin. Her face was slightly scrunched with disappointment, so I ran over and scooped her up. I said, OK, let's check out the driveway. Jack agreed with this plan.

In the driveway, it was dry (and a little sandy) and both kids ran around happily. I'd brought out the little basketballs and pulled the hoop out into the driveway, which Jack enjoyed for a few seconds and then wanted his bike. And Thomas. Thomas was a gift he'd been given by the Rosenfelds when he was under 2 years old. It's a riding train that plays the Thomas the Tank Engine theme and makes choo-choo sounds. Now he's too old for it and too big for it, and loves it more than ever. I got him to give passing interest to his bike, which he enjoyed for a bit, but, you know, it's more work than Thomas is. Which is OK at first but gradually he's thinking, this is difficult, Thomas is easy! Whee!

So Jack rode Thomas and Kate chased one of the basketballs around the driveway, shrieking and clicking her tongue making her dolphin noises. Every few minutes the ball would head toward the street, and I'd track it down and give it to her, and she'd take it ("Tchoo," she'd say, or Thank you), run over to the hoop, drop it through, and it would begin the long, slow roll toward the street. We did this for about half an hour, interrupted by bouts when she'd want a turn on Thomas, Jack would let her have one, then start saying about 1 minute in "Is it my turn yet?" "Is it my turn yet?" "She's been on it for a while. Is it my turn yet?" And then she'd want to try his bike, which was definitely too big for her, but she'd try to put her foot up onto a pedal anyway. And then she'd lose interest and go back to playing basketball, her basketball, where the ball went through the hoop and began its long slow roll, and she'd run after it laughing and clikcing and shrieking, and I'd make sure her path didn't intersect with Thomas', and I'd again try to interest Jack in his bike, and he'd try again for another minute or two, which went well when it was going on a downslope, like when it was headed toward the street.

Every once in a while I'd get to stand and just watch them running around, enjoying the warm weather, enjoying their toys, and then I'd have to intercept everything: the ball, Thomas, Jack, and Kate, all embarking on a slow journey toward the fortunately not very busy street yet again.

Swimming with Katie

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.

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.

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.

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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 mind!"

Kate hits sometimes. Jack, Mommy, Daddy. Emily came up with the theory that it's because she can't verbally articulate her thoughts as well as she'd like, so she speaks with her hands. We tell her not to, tell her hitting isn't nice, don't hit, so on and so forth.

One day recently, Jack and Kate were sitting on the rug with Emily, and Kate wanted a toy that Jack had, so she kind of batted him on the shoulder. "Aahh!" She said. Emily said, "Kate, no hitting!" Jack, perfectly agreeable (and unhurt), said "Mommy, I don't mind." Emily said, "Well, I do mind, Jack; Kate shouldn't hit you, or any of us."

The next day, Kate hit Jack again, and this time it was harder or it caught him in the side of the head or something. "I mind!" wailed Jack. "I mind!"

From now on, whenever Kate either hits or attempts to hit Jack, Jack immediately points out to her, us, and everyone else his revised feelings. "Kate! Don't hit me. I mind!"

Jack's Day

Before bed each night, we tell Jack about our day and he tells us about his. Here was his day at school today.

"First Mommy dropped me off. I had some breakfast (second breakfast) and then I played video games on the computer." What kind of games? "Thomas the Tank Engine...you had to click on Thomas to make sure he didn't go on the wrong track.

"Then it was Circle Time." (What did you talk about?) "We were supposed to talk about one new toy that was special." (Did you talk about Wally?) "Yes. Because he is special to me. And he has beans in his tummy. See?" (He showed me Wally, who does indeed have beans inside him.)

"Then it was time for snack, and we had brownies." (What?) "Olivia brought special snack...brownies." (Olivia had a birthday recently.) "Then we got paints and painted." (What did you paint? What kinds of things?) "Oh, just a messy paint picture.

"Then it was time for Miss Gabriella to teach us Spanish." (My 4-year-old has a busy day.) (What words did you learn?) "The Spanish word for bear is Oota Loota. The Spanish word for dog is Eaga Lito. The Spanish word for Hi is HOLA." (He said this one very emphatically. I don't know if the other ones are correct or not. My son knows more Spanish than I do.)

"Then we had lunch, and then we had nap. After nap we went to the bathroom, and then I played. And then I played some more. And then we had snack. And then I went to the gym.

"After the gym I had water, because I was sweaty.

"And then you came!"

Random from Vermont

- Jack has fun playing in the snow, at least until he actually gets snow somewhere he doesn't want snow -- inside his mitten, on his cheeks, whatever. He was upset with me getting snow on him until I offered to make it up to him by letting him hit me with snow. That made everything better.

- Sledding and making snow angels is fun for Jack, but not quite as fun as standing in snow pretending to scare off bears by poking at them with a big stick (or in Jack's case, a wiffle bat

- Kate was scared of Molly. Unlike Jack, she hasn't grown up with a dog around, so she doesn't quite know what to make of them. She'd be walking along, see Molly, and stop in her tracks. If Molly came into her vicinity, she'd turn and walk quickly away.

- But, she rallied. After a while, and after seeing Jack play with Molly, and see that Molly was about as threatening as a foot rest, she started walking up closer to her. Still wary, but getting closer. I sat on the floor next to Molly, and beckoned Kate closer. Kate shook her head, vigorously, No. I patted Molly on the head and asked Kate if she wanted to. Again, No. Finally I patted Molly's front leg. Kate? She came a little closer, squatted down, and touched Molly's leg. "Ah-ah-AHHH!" she announced. By the end of the weekend, she didn't seem terrified anymore. Still didn't actually pet her on the head, but was getting closer and closer, and was no longer running away when she saw her.

- Nana wanted to read various stories to Jack. Peter Rabbit, Bunny Who Wanted a Friend, etc. Jack wanted her to read Mouse Tales. Again, and again, and....

- Jack got a stuffed Wally in Vermont. For now at least, Wally is his favorite toy. He sleeps with him, wore his Red Sox sweatshirt today so Wally could see it, etc. Today a little while after Emily and Jack and Kate had gone off to school, Emily calls. She's on her way back to bring Wally home. Where was he? I asked. "In the pocket of his sweatshirt. We got to school and took of his jacket, and I said, 'Jack, what's that in your sweatshirt?' And he said...Uh...my hands.... And I looked and there was Wally. So I told him I'd bring him home to wait for him."

Kate beams

Kate beams. She really does. She sees Mommy in the doorway coming home from work, or me when I pick her up at daycare, or Jack when we pick him up, and her face lights up. I can usually draw a beautiful, goofy, toothy grin out of her without much difficulty, and it's something to see. She beams.

Kate dances. We put music on, or it comes on the TV, and she rocks back and forth, side to side, up and down. Usually smiling or laughing. Her feet don't move, but she dances.

Kate gets sick. It's been a rough first few months of daycare for her, with the last month about the worst. First she had this coxcsackia whatever thing, then fevers, then colds, then a cough. Currently an ear infection, which we've just begun treating with antibiotics but as I write this has yet to go away, and thus has yet to allow any of us a decent night's sleep. For a while things seemed to come and go and we didn't go to the doctor, but by Sunday she had a cold, cough, fever, and wasn't sleeping. It was high time. Ear infection, at a minimum; we treat that, and see how it goes.

She's no fun sick. Pretty much makes it clear how miserable she is; sometimes it almost feels like she's blaming us. "Don't you put me down!" "YES, I want more milk." "NO, I don't want that bland food. Give me MORE FRUIT, I say." Although really, it's rare that she's angry. More often she's just miserable. Quick to nap, then absolutely wretched when she wakes up, clinging to me and not wanting to be put down for a second. These are the times I see just how much I can do while holding Kate in one arm. Make coffee? Check. Cook dinner? Depends on the meal. Manipulate three different remotes to watch a DVD? Well, it really depends which of Jack's toys are in the way, but it can be done.

Last night, all night, every hour, she woke up, angry, frustrated, miserable, probably in pain. We did what we could, but it's tough when she doesn't even want to sleep, or at least isn't willing to sleep -- maybe lying down bothers her ear. This morning she was just pathetic, exhausted. This afternoon, clingy, fussy, wrecked.

Tonight she's sleeping, so far. I've got my fingers crossed. Maybe tomorrow she'll be beaming again.

Jack tells me a story

I was putting Jack to bed last night; he's kind of gotten out of the having songs sung to him thing, and now it's different...sometimes we talk, he tells stories, I tell stories, whatever.

So last night he tells this story.

"Once upon a time Mommy and Daddy decided they were going to have a baby. So they put a baby in Mommy's tummy, and then they went to the hospital, and they said we want to have our baby, and at first the baby wasn't ready to come out and then it did and it was named Jack. And so they had a baby."

"I remember this story, Jack." "You do?" "Yes -- I was there. And so were you. And we were very happy."

Jack's 4th birthday

Today was Jack's 4th birthday. Pretty amusing....

- We heard him get out of bed and go to the bathroom, then head back to his room. We got up (Kate was already awake) and went out into the hallway, to see him, half-naked (he goes to put on underwear), pajamas around his ankles, shuffling into his room. "Happy Birthday!" we said. He grinned sheepishly over his shoulder.

- We went downstairs, where he saw the bike (with training wheels) that we got him for his birthday present, and that I spent about an hour assembling last night. He said, "I didn't ask for a BIKE....!" He seemed happy though. We spent the next half hour helping him ride it around the living room.

- Jack wanted to wear one of the birthday hats that Emily had bought (for his party here) in to school. I tried to talk him out of it, but he was pretty insistent. I said, "Won't you feel silly being the only one at school wearing a birthday hat?" He looked at me, a hint of confusion on his face. Then, quite clearly: "No." It was like he was talking to an idiot. Why on earth would I feel silly, Daddy? Good for you, Jack.

- He had a good day at school, eating the cupcakes Emily made for his class (which I have to note were absolutely amazing). Coming home, I asked him, "Did the kids like the goodie bags you'd made up?" Jack said, "We didn't open them at school." As soon as we got home, he said, "I want to open my goodie bag!" I said, er, OK. The three of us had filled them before his bedtime last night. He opened it and said, "I got Play-dough and bubbles and stickers and a ball and..." And I said, I know, Jack, you helped put them together last night. He said, "I know!" Still just as excited as if it was all new, and if we didn't have extras of all those things scattered around the house.

- He got phone calls with birthday wishes from various relatives. It's funny watching him talk on the phone. He doesn't exactly converse; he usually comes up with comments that are total nonsequitors to the questions asked. "How was your birthday?" Jack: "We're going to have Fudgie the Whale cake tomorrow!" "What?" "Fudgie the Whale!"

- Before bathtime, he and Kate played hide and seek. On opposite sides of a chair. This really has nothing to do with his birthday, but it was pretty hilarious. They cracked each other up as they "found" each other.

- Aunt Robin sent an e-card with a dog blowing up a birthday cake balloon. Wearing himself out and panting as it kept deflating. Jack SCREAMED with laughter. "Again!" he said, clapping.

- At night, he kept getting out of bed. The last time, he said to Emily, "I want Daddy to get my birthday cake." (His party is tomorrow.) Emily, exasperated, said, "If you get out of bed again, you won't get a cake."

Jack was silent for a moment. Then, "But everybody needs a cake on their birthday...."

He'll get one.

Aunt Linda

Kind of funny how well the kids get along with Aunt Linda. Most adults they're meeting for the first time they're kind of standoffish with.....Kate fearful, Jack shy. Jack beforehand isn't sure he even wants to see somebody, and we're always like, "She gave you the..." or whatever.

But Linda is going home tomorrow so tonight they said Goodbye. Kate spent a lot of time being held by her, while Jack had a nice little talk with her as she was leaving; then, at the door, ran over to give her a big hug. Nice to see.

He also cracked up when she read him his first Peanuts "page-a-day" calendar comic strip. Evidently Aunt Linda read him the funnies over at Grandma's last Sunday, and he laughed it up all the way through them. Something obviously we don't do enough, which is going to change going forward. So thanks, Aunt Linda.

Lots of stuff

Dang, I haven't blogged in two weeks. Way too long, especially with so much different stuff happening....

- Jack got the "Madagascar" DVD, and now walks around singing "I like to moob it, moob it. I like to moob it, moob it.

- I turned Kate's car seat around so that she faces front rather than back. She was wide-eyed as I strapped her into it for the first time, as if to say, HEY, what's this new development? Ultimately, she still wailed a little on the way home, as she normally does when she's wearing her bulky winter Michelin jacket and strapped into the car seat, but at least she was facing forward. Jack wanted to hold her hand, which was kind of sweet.

- Jack had lots of fun with the Imaginext castle playset Santa brought him for Christmas, his "big gift." This was something we decided on a few weeks before, found it online, and then managed to get the last one at a store nearby. And a dragon accessory, plus a few other things. I think it's an awesome toy, and I'm not just saying that because I play with it for half an hour every night after everyone else goes to bed. The best part is that Jack likes it too.

- Emily cut Kate's bangs. I think maybe they were keeping her up, or at least I tell myself that, because when she was rubbing her eyes when I was putting her to bed, she may also have been trying to get hair out of them. She looks totally different but still extra cute. And her hair isn't in her eyes anymore.

- Jack let his Baba put him to bed. Mom and Dad stayed here over Christmas, and Jack decided he wanted Baba to read him stories before bedtime. The stories he got to read were a Backyardigans book involving cops and robots (Jack had read it a hundred times and kept correcting him -- "No, that's UNIQUA") and then I think a Curious George story perhaps; he kept asking Dad questions like, "Why does an elephant pick up food with his NOSE?" and Dad would come up with the same kind of explanation I would; probably some truth and some guesswork, which was kind of funny. After stories Baba just turned out the light and Jack went to sleep, unlike with us where he comes out of his room for about half an hour straight.

- Kate got sick; her first winter in daycare has been rough. She was home with a fever for a couple of days and slept a lot, woke up and drank liquids, slept some more. But it was really fun having her home, actually; I forgot how much I missed her, and I think she was happy having the run of the place and not having to worry about Jack taking toys away or whatever. Aside from being sick, she was happy, anyway.

- Aunt Linda visited, and it was funny how Jack and Kate both immediately took to her. Kate was nervous for maybe a few minutes and then I walked into the kitchen and there was Aunt Linda holding her. Jack only wanted to go out to dinner if he could sit next to Aunt Linda. Both kids, in fact, were great with all the visitors and such over the holidays.

- Jack and I went sledding in the neighbor's driveway. It was great, because it was a place for Jack to sled and he had fun. It was bad, because the kids are a little older and Jack tries to make friends but he can't really relate to them. But, it was still very sweet to see him try.

- We talked to Aunt Robin and Jack and Kate's cousins via Skype, enabling Robin to see Kate in the dress she'd sent and Jack to show his various stuffed toys to the camera. Plus we got to see Robin's dog Bailey.

- Dad and I played cards and watched the end of Casablanca together. Perhaps one day, 30 or so years from now, I'll be doing that again from the other perspective.

- Kate started walking around saying "Hi.....Hi!......Hi...." And sticking out her tongue. Tonight I thought she had something in her mouth. I crouched down: Kate, what have you got in your mouth? She opened her mouth wide, stuck out her tongue, and laughed at me.

Football with my son

Jack and I went to the Jets game on Sunday. A friend had tickets that they couldn't use and we got them last minute; one of the joys of living in the big city. I hadn't really considered taking Jack to an NFL game yet -- unlike baseball, it's not really conducive to small children, for various reasons -- but it was last-minute and so I figured what the heck. One day he'll be able to say he saw Brett Favre play, even if he doesn't remember any of it.

The drive down was great; Jack fell asleep after about 10 minutes. We parked, Jack woke up, and we headed to the shuttle bus. "Hurry, Daddy, hurry!" That bus took us what seemed like about 200 yards to...the edge of another big parking lot, which we needed to hoof it across to get on ANOTHER bus that would take us to the stadium. "Where's the stadium?" asked Jack. Five minutes later. "Daddy....where's the STADIUM." (As an aside, I think I now know why it's called "satellite parking." It has to do with the distance.) Needless to say, I carried Jack a lot during this, but mostly it was because I was hurrying -- not because he was whining to be picked up. He was great.

Finally at the stadium, the whining did begin somewhat. "Daddy, I'm HUNGRY!!!!" "Can we get some food now?" "But I'm HUNGRY....." I should point out that at this point we're standing in line at one of the turnstiles, waiting to get in. No vendors out there.

We get inside -- we went in the first gate we came to -- and were only about half a mile from our seats. We went up the longest escalator Jack had ever been on, which I think he enjoyed, and stared into a sea of people. Jack, to his credit, did not flinch. He said, "Can we get food now?" With the game starting in roughly 10 minutes, I ended up picking Jack up and hauling it toward our seats. When we were fairly near, and there was a food stand without much of a line, I put him down and we went over to get food. Hotdog, French fries, water for him, beer for Daddy. Ketchup, mustard, etc. And then I realized, OK, I need to hold two hotdogs, French fries, water, and beer -- AND Jack's hand. (The last one is the most important, I know.) Plus I need to be able to check the tickets because I only know the section number, I don't know what row or seats or anything. And then I notice that people are walking faster because the game's about to start -- it just occurs to me now that I missed the National Anthem, I'm kind of sad about that. Maybe that's why the line was shorter to get hotdogs. Oh well.

So people are walking faster and I have an armful of food and Jack at my hand and I don't know exactly where the seats are, and Jack says "Can I get one of those hats?" People are wearing these green Jets Santa hats, and I admit I kind of like them. And I say, Jack, the game's about to start, I've got a supermarket in my arms here, let's go find our seats, we'll go get a hat at halftime. "What's halftime?"

We make our way down the stairs. I wish I could say I saw Jack's eyes go wide when he saw his first football field and all that, but given all the stuff in my arms and the fact that the game was starting and there were crowds of people all around us, and that he's a couple of feet or so shorter than I am and was wearing a winter hat and big jacket, that is not the case.

I point out our row and send Jack in; he sits in the first empty seat. This reminds me of our first movie together, when he sat down on the aisle step. The things you forget that kids don't know, because it's new to them. We get to our seats, sit down, I unload all the food, and I point out Brett Favre.

There was a lot more. Jack being a little overwhelmed by the crowd roaring after big plays, like a lengthy bootleg by Brett Favre that seemed to take about 10 minutes (probably seemed even longer for Favre). Me explaining to Jack that, yeah, there'd probably be a lot of yelling because people get excited about football games. "I think I just want to watch it on TV," said Jack after that, although he gradually came around. Jack pointing out other Santa hats in the stands. Us actually seeing Santa (although I don't believe it was the real Santa because this is his busy time and he wouldn't have been able to take in Jets-Bills). Us getting up at halftime, going to the bathroom (that was a hoot; we're in this big stall so he can pee and he's taking off his clothes like we're home and he's about to have a bath. Jack, what are you DOING?), going to the gift shop and not seeing the Santa hats but seeing a small stuffed bear. In a Santa outfit. WEARING a green Jets Santa hat. When Jack saw that I think his little heart just filled with joy; I will freely admit that going to a game with his Daddy and seeing The Meadowlands and all that paled next to that little bear. In a Santa outfit. Wearing a green Jets Santa hat.

On the way back to our seats after that, with Jack fairly walking on air, clutching his little Jets Shop bag with his new toy in it, it was halftime, so it was even more crowded than it was earlier. Jack was a trooper; the biggest problem was that there weren't many 3 year olds there, and thus there weren't many people his size there, so other people weren't looking for him. I kind of walked along with him behind me, clearing a path while holding his hand, but other people would see me and not him and, you know, there was jostling. But to his credit, and partly because he was happy about having his bear, he hung in there. Didn't squawk. Didn't complain.

People are nice, too. No question there were scores of drunken fools there, but when one guy who I might at a glance have put in that category careened into us as we walked down the stairs and he walked up, the guy stopped, helped me get Jack back to his feet, apologized to Jack and to me, and made sure we were OK before heading on his way. That sticks in my memory.

We left a little early; it started to get pretty cold. I carried him a lot on our two parking lot hikes and two different shuttle bus rides. And we were on the bus when we heard the Jets win.

Which was just a bonus.

Funny stories

There's a stomach bug going around Jack's school. We heard about it when Jack explained how one girl threw up during snack time when they were eating crackers. "All over the table!" said Jack, excitedly. But not on your crackers? Emily asked. "Oh no. She threw up on Teddy's crackers a little bit." Did Teddy get new crackers. "OH, yes."

____________________


Jack caught the stomach bug, of course. Got sick tonight. Told me he had to, so we went and stood at the toilet. For about 5 minutes, nothing. So I (wait for it).......closed the lid, and we left. Two minutes later, Jack had to throw up. We got there, but didn't get the lid up in time. Lesson learned.

At bedtime, he wanted some water. Emily gave him a tiny bit, but said he couldn't have any more, since he'd just been sick. Naturally, shortly after that, he got sick. As he sat on his floor before getting back into bed, he said sadly, "I guess I shouldn't have had that water." Emily also told me he said, "I feel bad for myself being sick." He's been coming out with some great comments lately. I need to write more of them down. I forget them and a day later they're gone.

______________

Kate was home most of the week. She also got sick once, and had other stuff going on, one of which I can't even begin to spell and won't try. It was odd being home alone with her -- I was for the entire summer, and then not from September through now, with her in day care. Whenever she was home with me (Friday through Sunday), either Jack was here or Emily or both. First afternoon, she seemed to just love running around the house on her own (no need to worry about Jack playing with toys she wanted, or whatever).

The last two days, it was books and more books. What she does is she walks up to me in her little pigeontoed way, and she's holding a book in her hand. Or she's sad or clingy or whatever, and I say, do you want to read a book? Why don't you go get a book? And she goes and gets one. Little block books, board books, typically little small things -- Kate-sized.

I generally sit cross-legged on the floor ("criss-cross applesauce," according to Jack, which is also a verb in Jack speak -- "Are you criss-cross applesaucing?"). She walks up to me, turns around, then backs up the rest of the way. Sits down on my legs like I'm her chair. Little smile on her face that I can kind of see as she backs up.

And that's pretty much how we spent the last two days around the house, her bringing me books, backing up to sit down, and us reading them. Over and over and over.

Binkit

When I was little I had a blanket. Kate doesn't have one (yet; we're going to have to change that). Tonight she was in her pajamas, just before going to bed, and I had just given Jack his bath. He was getting into his pajamas and his towel was kind of crumpled on the floor.

She went over to it. Picked it up. Walked a few steps away with it, still holding it. I took it back, thinking, ugh, wet towel. She came over to me and took it back. "Aaa!" she said, in protest. All righty, I'm thinking. She does love the Boynton book, "Dinosaur's Binkit," so.....

She carried the towel around with her for the next 10 minutes. At some point she was distracted and set it down for a minute, and Emily stowed it away.

Gonna have to get her a blanket, though.

The Grinch

Jack came into the kitchen yesterday morning; he'd been out in the living room watching The Grinch.

"Daddy, The Grinch isn't a person. He's a MONSTER."

"He is?"

"Yes. The song says so."

So there you go.

Giving Thanks

I'm thankful that Jack and Kate are the kids they are. Jack drives me up the wall sometimes with his reluctance to eat, stalling about going to bed, and other mild annoyances. But he's also a tremendously sweet kid, thoughtful, drawing pictures for us ("This one is for Mommy. Now I will make one for you. I will always make you pictures."), bringing Kate toys when she's crying ("Here, Kate. Here's a pirate guy. Here."), being kind without any sort of guile.

Kate just makes me laugh. She's totally into walking around, grabbing things, thrill-seeking. Going up stairs, going down stairs, climbing onto footstools. At Aunt Cathy's, there was a Kitchen Aid Mixer on the floor. She went up to it and tried to climb onto it like a horse. She sees Jack and the girls playing with something and she goes over and gets involved, usually by walking through it. "No, Dogzilla!" Jack says, in reference to a kids book we read sometimes. She is Dogzilla, a walking engine of destruction, and it's a riot.

I'm thankful it's bedtime.

Drawing Kate

Kate has always liked Jack's markers; she'd grab them and walk around with them clutched tightly in each little fist. She's not strong enough to get the tops off, so it's not a worry yet. Now she's interested in the easel. Jack and I had made a picture recently; she at some point had used a marker (with the top on it) to smear all the dry-erase ink around.

So last night I sat down at the board with her. I drew with a marker, she whacked at it with a marker with the top still on. I took the top off and gave the marker back to her, showing her how to make actual marks on the board. She immediately went to lick the marker. I took it away; she cried; I tried again. This repeated, until I gave her back the marker with the cap on. She gave me a look and walked off with the marker. My marker, I could tell she was thinking.

After a minute, she came back to the board. Stood next to me. Looked at me with a big, broad smile. Looked at the capped marker in her hand. And then turned to the easel and whacked at it again. For a while we drew together, me making marks, her whacking at the marks. Chiming in her trademark "Aaaaa-aaaa-AAAAA!" Throwing me a grin every now and again.

For now, I guess, that's drawing Kate.

Blob about the Aquarium

I took the kids to the Maritime Aquarium yesterday. I was so tired later that when I wrote a note to myself to blog about it, I wrote down "Blob about the Aquarium."

Basically I've come to realize, though, that if we don't get out of the house and do something on Friday, we all go insane. With Jack it manifests as whining, with Kate it manifests as general crankiness, with me it's a little of both. Anyway, going out is better. So after Kate's nap yesterday I rounded them up in the car and we headed off to the Aquarium. Membership has its privileges.

Jack likes to climb up on steps in front of some displays to see the fish up close. I held Kate up and she was into it but also maybe a little taken aback when they swam right up close to her (which is understandable). But mostly she was into it. This is the first time we'd gone since she's been walking, so it was cool to see her walk around in the rooms with tanks all over the place. I think mostly she liked having a huge room to walk in.

At the starfish and crab tank, there was a huge class of kids, which was frustrating to Jack. And then to both of us when we came back again 10 minutes later and there was a different huge class of kids. Definitely a drawback with the Aquarium: huge classes of kids on occasion. And I could hold Jack up some, but holding up both Kate and Jack was a challenge, to say the least.

At the shark tank, we all enjoy it, but the kids lose interest far sooner than I do.

I'm a little concerned about the tank with the big sea turtles in it. Six months ago there were 2 huge turtles. One even swam up to the glass and waved at us. That was great. Three months ago, there was only 1 huge turtle. Yesterday, there was 1 small turtle. Jack asked me where the big one was. I said, well, he must be out exercising in the yard. I don't know, it was all I could think of.

The Aquarium has a play area/tumble room type place for kids under 5. Lots of mats and things to climb over and jump on. I wanted to take Jack there, one to get him some exercise, and two because he can be shy in those situations. We went, and for a few minutes he clung to my leg. Kate immediately walked around and around and around, and side to side. "Aaaa-aaaa-AAAA!" she said happily. There were two little girls Jack's age. Jack went to grab something near them, and one of them said to him it was hers. Jack, rebuffed, came back over to me. I was as crushed as he was, and then the girls' Mom told them to invite Jack to help them build something or whatever. The girl came over and was all like a teacher: "Hi, do you want to help us? We're building a fort...." Jack was still in a shell. I encouraged him, but it didn't happen. At first. Five minutes later, though, they were carrying some bouncy pad thing, and he went and helped them. And they played together. I burst into song. OK, not really. But I was happy for the little guy and beamed at the girls' mother. Later, Jack talked to their Mom, rambling away about "My Daddy said....my Daddy took us here to.....Yes." (His new favorite word is Yes; I think he'd said yeah for a while, but now everything is, "Jack, do you want to go with us?" "Yes." "Jack, would you like some milk?" "Yes." Very matter of fact, you probably have to hear it, but it's a riot. Anyway.) "Well, I like the sharks and the turtles but I didn't know where the big turtle was and I....."

Kate continued to run around as if she'd been locked up in a cell for the past week. "Aaaa-aaaa-AAAA!" Turning to look at me with a big smile every once in a while. Coming over, then heading back out. She was a big fan. Clearly, they both need Friday activities, even if it's just running around a mall play area or something. Maybe next week.

I think they both liked it more than the Aquarium.

Charades

Rainy and gloomy Saturday afternoon at home, and we didn't think to have a kids movie on hand -- have to get that fixed in the future. Anyway, Emily came up with the idea of playing Charades, which we explained to Jack and he seemed fine with it. Daddy started.

I got on my hands and knees and let my arm trail down from my head and made trumpeting noises. I think Jack guessed a variety of things including "dog" and "ghost" before Emily guessed elephant. Then it was Jack's turn. He thought for a minute, got a little smile, then jumped up and down, smiling. We guessed a few things before "bunny," which was correct. We all took turns again, then came back to Jack.

Again, he jumped up and down in place. Er...frog? No. Jumping bean? No. Bunny? "Yup!"

We all took turns again. Back to Jack. He jumped up and down in place. Frog? "YES!"

Kind of funny.

Sick Kate

Kate got sent home sick from daycare yesterday; well, they didn't make her go home alone, they called me. Fever of 101.9. I got her, figured, well, no biggie, we'll get her some liquids and rest and she'll be fine, little cold or virus. Turned out being pretty scary, initially because she did this thing where I thought she was awake and I picked her up and her eyes were open but not focusing on me and she was kind of limp and moaning...turns out she was asleep, or mostly asleep, so heavily that she didn't even know I was there. Took me 10 minutes of near panic and debating with myself, is she asleep or is she awake and disoriented, what should I do, is she OK, why don't I call...Oh. She's sleeping.

Anyway. She slept well last night and seemed mostly OK this morning, but come this afternoon she was starting to feel really warm. Temperature of 102.1. So, I took her to the doctor. She was OK in the waiting room, looking at the fish in the tank and pointing at things: "Yes, Light, Katie. Uh-huh, Fish. That's a little girl. Yup, another light." Fine in the office, until she saw the doctor, the same one who gave her a flu shot less than two weeks ago. She appeared to remember, clinging to me and wailing. That was fun. "So yes, Doctor, I, excuse me, I TOOK HER TEMPERATURE...Katie, it's okay....AND IT WAS...."

Turns out she's getting molars and has a cold or virus of some sort, so yeah, she's not feeling too great. Rest and liquids and maybe Tylenol. We went home and she fell asleep in the car, so I let her sleep in the garage (it's downstairs from our living room for about 20 minutes -- her first garage nap, actually). When she woke up she just wanted to be held, so I held her in my arm like a baby and watched a little bit of Resident Evil, which yes is a really inappropriate choice but her eyes were closed, I promise. And we did that until Mommy and Jack got home.

It's funny the difference. When she's healthy, she's a little dynamo, pulling toys off shelves and magazines off coffee tables, making a beeline for the stairs as soon as my back is turned (and when she reaches the stairs, turning to look for me, so she can smile and say, "Da!" As in, that's right, I'm going up the stairs again, oh yeah, that's right." Sick, she's like the anti-Kate. No energy. She actually crawled a little bit today. No desire to do anything but sit in my arms, find Mr. Thumb, and half-sleep or sleep.

She rallied this evening, walking around a little with her rings on her arm (note picture from a week ago) which was huge progress for her. And hopefully we'll all sleep. Good night.

Scared Jack

Is there anything worse than seeing your child scared of something? It's gotta be up there pretty high.

Jack's been having accidents at night, after a few months of sleeping fine in underwear. He comes into our room, says he's wet, we go in the bathroom and I clean him up. I guess one night the water wasn't quite warm enough when I did that, because the next night I was soaking the towel -- after waiting for the water to warm up, it takes forever -- and he shrunk away from me, across the bathroom, fearful. It was terrible. "Jack!" I said. "What's wrong?" "I don't want that cold water....no...." I just felt horrible. "I'll warm it up, Jack. I promise. It will be OK." He came back over to me, slowly. I made sure the water was warm.

Today was Halloween at his school, and I brought him and Kate in. First we dropped her off, then brought him up to his room. He was all happy and excited, going down the hallway in his Flash costume. Walked in the room, and it was packed. All the kids in costumes, a bunch of parents. He clung to my leg, nervous, fearful. Kids were saying, "Great costume, Jack!" Miss Ruthie was saying, come, sit down over here, we're decorating cupcakes. Jack just clung to me. He's like this on occasion, at parties and stuff, but these were actually his friends (albeit in costume). What's wrong, Jack, I said. "I want to go home," he said. We didn't, and things got better, but it was pretty bad for a few minutes. I left after a bit to check on Kate. When I came out I saw him, and he was OK, but apparently he'd been crying. Kind of rough.

Later, he was OK. At his cousins. Trick or treating that night. You hope that he's not going to be scared like that again. Or at least, not more than anyone else, I guess.

Quickly...

Because it's late and I'm tired, but today the kids are great because....

- I got to sit and watch "Great Pumpkin Charlie Brown" with Jack, and he laughed and smiled at all the right places, like Charlie Brown getting rocks in his bag and Snoopy dancing to Schroeder's piano

- Kate brings us a book when we're sitting on the floor, hands it to us, then turns, sticks her butt out, and sits on us like we're a chair. It just doesn't get old.

- I carved a pumpkin with Jack last week and will do another one, I suspect, tomorrow. He calls it "Pum."

- Jack asked what things are out in the night. Huh? I said. "You know, what things are there that are out in the night." And I thought a minute and said, Uh, bats. And he said, "I can't see them." And I said, well no, they're black, that's the point. And he asked what else. And I said, well, spiders....cats....wolves.... And he said, "I'm going to be a wolf now." And he was a wolf for the next half hour or so, then said, "I'm very sleepy. Wolf needs to go to bed now." And so we did.

Bookish

Somewhere in the last couple of months Kate started getting into her books. We'd been reading them to her for a while, every night before bed, but with me she usually thrashed about and was just anxious to get me out of there and get Mommy in there. (She still nurses to bed.)

Eventually, it reached a point where she started to show some interest. I still don't think she was terribly into it, but she at least sat quietly on my lap and looked. Mostly Boynton books. "Moo Baa La La La," and "Dinosaur's Binkit," and "The Going to Bed Book."

At some point she began pointing to things. And then, recently, she exhibited clear preferences.

Emily told me first. She had been reading Moo Baa La La La. She put it aside and pulled out "Guess How Much I Love You." Kate took the book out of her hand, dropped it on the floor, and leaned over to grab "Moo Baa La La La."

Later she did the same thing with me. Climbed out of my lap, crawled across the floor, got the book she wanted (I think this time it was the Going to Bed Book), and brought it to me. Said, "Da!" (This one, Daddy. THIS is the book I want you to read me.)

Now she sits patiently and beams at each page. Smiles at the "Moo" sounds. Sometimes she turns the pages -- I kind of get a kick out of her little hands bringing the little board book up close to her, focusing on the pages, opening them. Sometimes she gets tired of one book halfway through, grabs it, drops it, and goes to get another one. Then goes back to the first one.

Yesterday morning I was sitting in the rocking chair in her room. She brought me book after book after book. "Da. DA! Da." Smiled and waved the book to me before bringing it over. Climbed up into my lap once I had four of them. So, I read them.

Emily came and stood in the doorway. "You miss her, don't you?" (She started daycare a month ago, four days a week.) Yeah, I kind of do.

Bath time

Jack has a bath every night, and normally I give it to him -- normally Emily is putting Kate to bed around then. To Jack it's a big thrill how now he gets to go downstairs and play after his bath; this is because we give him his bath earlier so Kate's still awake when it's going on, since it can be noisy.

Tonight I sat and watched him play, with several different little squirty animal bath toys: alligator, seahorse, sting ray. He had set the alligator aside and was playing with the seahorse (which he referred to as "the brother") and the sting ray ("sister"). And the seahorse was showing the sister what to do and instructing her on how to do or not do things.

"See," he was saying, "you jump over here like this." And he had the seahorse leap from one side of the tub to the other. "Now you do it, and you get a gold medal." (This is most likely a Backyardigans reference, from an episode called "Race around the world.") The sting ray jumped too. "That's right, sister. Here is your gold medal. Oh, thank you. And here's my gold medal too."

I watched this for about 10 minutes or so. I'm not sure he noticed I was there.

Walking

Kate started walking last week, which was pretty cool.

It started out with her pushing this walker thing around. Actually, it probably started with her standing up on her own, more and more often. And then walking around holding on to one of our fingers for balance. And then standing up a few feet from us, taking one step, and falling into our arms. She did all that stuff more and more, and then all of a sudden she was cruising around at high speeds pushing the walker thing, like a woman in a shopping cart race. I mean, she was really moving. And there was a glee to it all, a "HA! Look at me! Out of my way! Look at me! Ha!" She was crashing about and pivoting and lifting the walker to position it a certain way -- and not falling. It wasn't even supporting her anymore, it was just there.

Then she started walking one day, a few excited steps from Emily to the table, or the table to Emily, or her to me. Huge open-mouthed toothy grin on her face, a kind of madness in her eyes, defiance, accomplishment. "Finally....finally...I'm WALKING! Ah-HAHAHAHAHAHA!" Really, that's kind of what it was like.

Not that she still doesn't like grabbing the walker and ramming it around the house, mind you. Much to Jack's dismay as she comes near a puzzle he's doing or something: "NOOOOO Kate! NOOOO!"

She's gonna be a handful, we can tell.

The Rainbow Man

Jack started drawing faces recently, as I mentioned in the past. He's stepped it up recently, using different colored crayons to create a single face. An orange eye, a green eye, a blue nose, a purple mouth. He calls it The Rainbow Man.

It's absolutely great. They all -- I think he's drawn about 20 or 30 over the past week -- have the rainbow element in common, but each one is slightly different. A misshaped oval head that looks like anything from a balloon to a potato to a peanut. (The best ones, in my opinion, have big ol' chins.) Two fried egg eyes, usually different sizes (but not always). A big round W.C. Fields nose. And then a loopy, crooked grin that starts below one eye and goes all the way down to the bottom and curves up again. Three hairs sticking up straight from the top of his head. Eyebrows sometimes. Ears, on occasion; sometimes yes, sometimes no. All the faces are happy, goofy, beautiful. He could make 100 or 200 and I'd never grow tired of them. Rainbow Man.

Tonight he asked me to draw one, and I agreed. Got out a bunch of different colored crayons ("Get a lot of colors, Daddy," he said), and then drew one much like his. Only not. It was awkward. The head was too normal shaped. The misshapen eyes too intentional. It was like an adult trying to copy a child's work, which of course it was, and it doesn't work.

I said to Jack, well, you make much better Rainbow Men than Daddy. But Jack was very encouraging. "That's good, Daddy. I think you made a very nice Rainbow Man." That might have been the best part of the whole thing -- Jack trying to make me feel better about a picture that was obviously nowhere near as awesome as his own.

I have one hanging on my wall. There are a bunch on Jack's wall -- he keeps wanting to hang more -- and a stack on the dining room table. Perhaps I'll make them into a book one day.

Rainbow Man.

Apples

We went apple picking today. It's a great thing to do with kids, evidently, because everyone there was doing it with their kids. Anyway, Jack was really into the idea, and the Rosenfelds go every year, so we got in our car and headed out, I guess in Fairfield or somewhere.

First we rode in a big cart being pulled by a tractor. That was kind of cool. Went out in the middle of this orchard where I had images of a Steinbeck novel. Whose title I've forgotten, but it had something to do with apples. I wore the Baby Bjorn with Kate in it. We picked an apple as we walked along. I took a bite. Put it in front of Kate so she could kind of take a bite. Then handed it to Jack.

As Jack took a bite, she started to protest. AAAAaaaaAAAAaaaaAAAAA! She said. I got the apple back from Jack (Emily got him another one) and gave it back to Kate. Who clutched it in both hands and gnawed it contentedly.

We spent about the next 45 minutes walking around the apple orchard. She did not let go of the apple. She was quiet, contentedly gnawing it, gumming it, biting it with her four total teeth. Still holding it as we walked along, finished picking, got back in the tractor cart, and rode down to the parking lot.

By the end it was a little, wet, lumpy, gummed-over apple core, that had been mashed and bitten and de-juiced.

And Kate was happy.

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We were getting ready for bed tonight, in Jack's room, and Kate crawled in. I've already forgotten if I was singing, or the Fun Fair was playing music. Anyway, Kate stood up, feet planted, and started dancing in place. Sort of swaying and grooving, feet not moving, body rocking side to side. Jack was also dancing, kind of running in circles, which he does sometimes.

I said to Emily, when she came in, "Kate was doing the twist."

Jack looked up from his running in circles, and said, "Mommy, I'm doing the round."

Mr. Clean

Jack went up to his room today. He was tired of Kate playing with all of his toys (even though about half of them, at least, were her toys that she'd gotten the previous day for her birthday), and Emily said, if you don't want her to play with them, you're going to have to go upstairs. So he gathered up some toys, mostly hers, and went upstairs.

A little while later he came down to tell us he cleaned his room. Emily went up with Kate, then called me up to see. He'd cleaned his room! Really! The thing was spotless. Granted, his two huge stuffed things, monkey and duck, were in our room, but still. The floor was entirely cleared; things were up on top of his toy chest, books put away, etc. Amusingly, as I walked in, he played a note on this little laptop computer toy Kate had gotten for her birthday. The note went, "Ta-daa!!!!"

As we were marveling, Jack got onto his bed with this little laptop toy and said, "I have to work at my computer now. Goodbye, family." (This is apparently something I say at times.) And so we left. Pretty funny.

Day care

It's Kate's birthday tomorrow. And then Monday, she starts day care.

I know parents feeling guilty about bringing their children to day care is a cliche. and the fact that Jack has been going there almost his whole life and we think it's been great for him makes it seem particularly silly. But I do feel guilty, and worse, I think I'm going to miss having her around.

I work from home, and it's a challenge with her here full time, as she's always been. I work during her naps, and then I work late at night and sometimes early in the morning. I manage. Her not being here will make it easier on me, so I won't be sitting here working at 10 at night on Friday.

But, she also won't be here to make me laugh by laughing.

To crawl over to me and force her way into my arms or lap.

To do her little dance while holding onto her table, listening to some silly music.

To pull all of Jack's toys off his shelves that I'd just put back half an hour earlier. To pull all the magazines off the coffee table, one by one, that I'd just finished stacking there an hour earlier.

To make her hourly beeline for the stairs, where she'd start to crawl up them, stop, and look at me, as if to say, "Better come get me, or I'm going to crawl up the stairs. Look, I'm on the second one. I'm not stopping. Still going up." And then I go get her.

To inhale slices of avocado at lunch.

To greet me with a big smile and giddy laugh at her crib when I go to get her after her nap.

To soil her diaper within 10 minutes after I changed it.

To kick me while I change her diaper.

To go to the supermarket with me and draw oohs and aahs from the checkout ladies and other customers. To sit patiently in the cart while I'm picking out corn or fruit or bread.

To join me when I go pick up big brother Jack at day care.

To sit, enraptured, while I read Dinosaur's Binkit, or Moo Baa La La La. Then to protest if I don't start reading again.

To yell at me from her high chair if I'm not bringing her food quickly enough and there's a few seconds when she has no food in front of her. She actually yells.

To crawl to me, either happy or sad or angry. Again and again and again.

I think day care will be good. I think I need to get work done during day time hours, and maybe even get out on my own every once in a while to go to the gym or something. I think she needs to interact with other babies and toddlers, other little kids (I don't know a lot of Moms to have play dates with).

But I'll miss her. I miss her already. I think she'll be going home early sometimes, just so I can have her with me to keep me from working, and make me smile.

Random

Jack climbed into bed this morning. He said, "Remember when I had my surgery?" It was just a shade over a year ago. Yes, Jack. "Remember when I got those three bears, because I was so brave?" He'd gotten 2 (actually) little stuffed bears. Yes, Jack. "And remember they had little shirts on? I don't know where those are." Then: "I can still see my surgery." He has very, very faint scars. Yes, a little bit. But not much.

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When I pick Kate up out of the crib, she kind of does a full body hug, pressing her face and neck into my shoulder. That's nice.


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She claps when she's happy. Sometimes it's in response to something, like us laughing or clapping, and sometimes she just all of a sudden smiles and claps, like she's thought of something wonderful.


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She's standing up a lot now. On her own. Not walking yet. I sit facing her, when she's standing, and hold my hand out, to get her to walk. What she does is take one step and then flop forward into my arms, laughing. She's getting there.

Catching Up

Sometimes you get busy, and there's not enough time to take everything down. It's too bad, because the stuff you forget to write about can be pretty memorable....

Kate likes to play peek-a-boo, and normally she initiates it, cracking herself up. With her dress when I'm changing her diaper -- she yanks it over her face, then flips it down again. I say "Peek-a-boo." She burbles with laughter.

Jack drew a picture yesterday that floored me. It was a face, a big head with two fried-egg eyes, a round nose, and a crooked grin. So many of his pictures, he just likes to scribble. Which is fine and all. But this was an actual recognizable image -- I couldn't believe it. I still can't.

Kate also plays the game standing up, on all fours, like a bent over newspaper. She peeks between her legs, sees me, I say Peek-a-boo, and she gurgles happily.

Today Jack drew a picture on his easel that looks kind of like a jellyfish, or a big bug. Again, with a face, eyes, a nose, a wide, looping smile. "And lots and lots of legs -- LOOK at all his LEGS!" said Jack. Indeed.

Last week I was alone with the two of them for almost the entire week, plus I had twice as much work as normal. The great thing is that they actually do play together, kind of. Which is to say, Jack plays with something, and Kate elbows her way into the game, usually to Jack's dismay. Kate's not really ready for Lincoln Logs, as a for instance. Still, it was fun seeing them kind of play. They play with this musical "Fun Fair" together, that Jack got when he was a year old. Last week we discovered new music from it. Kate kind of sits on her knees and bounces slightly to the music. Jack plays a tune, runs off and does something else, comes back, plays a new tune. They kind of played with this Martian game that Jack got on his third birthday from his Irish cousins. For whatever reason, Kate loves the little Martians -- they're the right size to hold in her hands, I guess. She crawls around clutching them. They go whack (pause), whack (pause), whack (pause) on the floor. It's pretty cute.

Jack didn't nap all week. Plus they both had runny noses for much of it. Kate slept well at night, exhausted. Jack woke up too much, didn't sleep enough, and was exhausted, a little bit more with each day as the week wore on. By the end, he was a real mess. Now he's back at school, and napping. Whew.

I'll try to catch up on some more stuff next time.

Superheroes

I was putting Jack to bed last night, and he wanted to hear a story about superheroes battling monsters. It's a recurring theme. I started telling it ("The Superheroes heard about a group of monsters causing trouble, so they went out looking for them. They found them on the moon...."), and listed the various heroes: Spider-Man, the Hulk, Warlock, Batgirl, the Flash. And then Jack broke in, all excited, "And Sabby Soapy!" And I said, uh, who? And he said again, "Sabby Soapy...he's MY superhero."

So I said, well OK, tell me about him. And Jack said, "Well, he's fast. And he's got a scary mask, like " -- he put his fingers in circles over his eyes -- "like this. And he's got boots. And he does this:" Here, Jack punched the air in front of him, sort of like The Karate Kid or something. "And, and...he's got tiny feet." Here he nodded, knowingly, as if explaining something to a small child. "He kind of looks like a baby. He's sort of the baby superhero."

This morning, I asked Jack about him again. It appears that Sabby Soapy has acquired the same powers as the other superheroes. "He makes big webs, like THIS." (Jack waved his arms in the air.) "And he KICKS bad guys. And monsters."

I think Jack will like Calvin and Hobbes one day.

Catching Up

Aunt Robin and her beautiful children visited, I had a birthday, and a whole lot of other stuff happened. I'm going to try to pick some highlights out of the past week...

August 4th - Robin and the kids arrive late afternoon. We go out for Mexican food, where most of the kids try something Mexican for the first time (quesadillas). Jack has chicken fingers, and I again think about him consuming a taco at Benny's in Denver, when he was just a year and a half old. Sometimes he eats tacos. He does like chips and salsa. Laura and Niamh get slushy drinks, I think a daquiri and a pina colada (non-alcohol, of course). I think Niamh said it was her first one.

The sleeping arrangements entails the twins on an aero bed in Jack's room, although Jack wants to sleep on the aero bed so Mikey takes Jack's bed. They're all still awake, talking and stuff, at 9:30. Good grief. The rest of us are all up until around midnight. Kate wakes everyone up the next morning before 6.

August 5th - It's my birthday, and there are indications that Brett Favre might be traded to the Vikings. I really don't want that event, which is pretty much akin to the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse showing up in my eyes, to occur on my birthday. It doesn't. Two days later he's traded to the Jets, who are as close to a local team there is. Whoohoo!

We had some crazy idea that we would go on the Circle Line boat tour of New York City today. For that to happen, we'd need to be out of the house around 9 a.m. No one is moving that quickly. Instead we opt for the aquarium, where a good time is had by all. The Octopus is particularly impressive, doing a little dance in front of the glass for us. There's a rare white alligator that looks quite content to sleep all day, though he does crack an eyelid at us once or twice. The sharks, as always, are cool. We have fun in the gift shop too. We watch the seals get fed. Robin gets some good pictures of the kids behind these big turtle shells. Jack wants to throw money into this thing that's supposed to be cool because the money does spirals and stuff. He essentially just wants to throw money into it. Kids today.

The Rosenfelds and their kids show up. Lyndsay and Stacey and Abbey become friends instantly. All 8 kids (not counting Kate) run wildly around the upstairs, downstairs, and back yard for the next hour or so (and then again after dinner and cake). It's chaos, but fun.

Red wine, pizza, pie, and ice cream rule at my birthday party. Kids take control of the balloons but don't fight too fiercely over the Spider-Man and Superman ones. Each of the kids makes me a handmade birthday card; all unique and clever and beautiful. We stay up late watching Jaws for the 87th time. "Amity, as you know, means friendship."

August 6th - We sleep until 6:30, which feels like a victory of some kind. Then we go to Old Navy, shopping, which is what Robin and the girls want to do; I take Jack and Mikey to the comic store. I tell them I'll buy them one comic book or one toy. Shockingly, they opt for the toys, a pair of superhero action figures. Female! The selection was poor. I'm relieved that neither wrenches something really expensive to the floor in the tiny, cramped little comic shop, forcing me to purchase some $300 comic from the '60s that a 3-year-old just stepped on.

They leave, and our house is quiet and comparatively empty. Jack falls asleep about 10 words into "Swing on a Star" -- the fastest he's fallen asleep in probably ever. A good time was had by all.

August 7th - Favre is traded to the Jets. I tell Jack this, realizing it will be no different for him, except maybe next season we'll go see him play in person, should Favre play two more years.

August 8th - Home with Jack and Kate. Jack has a couple of bathroom accidents. The second one I'm fuming. Jack, standing in the bathroom in a puddle, looks at me. "I didn't mean to do it," he says. I melt. "I know, Jack. I know."

I bring him upstairs for a bath from the waist down. As I'm standing him there, running his bath, he looks at me. He kind of has the anxious eyes and stiff upper lip like he's going to cry. I actually don't think I've seen that look before. I hug him. He's a beautiful little kid.

It was a week.

Sweet kid

Emily went grocery shopping with Jack today, stocking up for the cousins' visit. As they were walking down the bread aisle, Jack pointed out the Cinnamon Swirl bread. "We have to get that -- Mikey really likes it."

Kate had a small block in her hand yesterday, too small for her to have since it would fit in her mouth. Jack took it away. She cried. He handed her a toy tomato from his plastic food toys. "Here, Kate." She stopped crying and looked at him like he was the greatest thing in the world. (Pretty much as she always does.)

On Friday, Jack was hoping to go next door to play with Max. He spent much of the afternoon checking the window. "Is Max outside?" "Is Max there yet?" When we finally did see Max, Jack was very obedient about going to the bathroom, putting his sandals on, waiting for Katie to have her bottle (OK, not really: "She can have her bottle over THERE.....But she can have her bottle over THERE.....") . When Jack saw Max, the two rejoiced like they hadn't seen each other in ages, then ran about jumping in the wading pool and stuff. Pretty cute.

We gave Jack a few new bath toys last night, including a Walrus, which was immediately his favorite. He paired it up with the Walrus he acquired from Aunt Cathy. "This is the Daddy Walrus and this is the baby Walrus. Where's the Mommy Walrus?" So yeah, I'll be looking for another Walrus bath toy soon. And a baby sister Walrus. And...

In Vermont last week, Jack was riding in his car seat in the Odyssey with my Dad, Robin, and all his cousins. He said to Robin, "I want you and Baba to move closer to me." Robin, thinking he meant in the car, said, "Well, Baba can't get closer, he has to drive the car." Jack explained, "No, I want you to move closer to my HOUSE....."