good life

Jack and Kate's new after school activity is to run around the backyard encouraging Laney to chase them. Of course, neither of them want Laney to actually catch them (especially Kate, who's still very wary of her). So Laney is on a leash, and I'm on the other end of it. Running.

It's nice, though, to see Kate a little braver these days. "It's my turn, Jack. Laney, chase me! Laney!" And then she starts off running. She's a good runner. She usually makes a beeline for the shed and stands next to the back corner, at which point Laney corners her, Kate gives a little "Eek!" and I drag Laney away. But, they have fun.

Inside this afternoon, I hear Jack yelling for me in the backyard. I go out on the deck. What's up, Jack? "I found a three-leaf clover!!!!!!!" Uh, Jack, the three-leaf are the common ones....it's the four-leaf ones that are rare. I try to tell him gently, but he's clearly disappointed. Next time I'll just say Wow!

At dinner, we're talking about Jack's playdate, and he mentions he had Nilla wafers. I said, Wow, they still make Nilla wafers? I had those when I was a kid...I think my grandmother used to give them to us. She was your GREAT grandmother, Jack. (Kate's mind is kind of blown by all this, incidentally; she has no concept of a great grandmother.)

Jack says, But she died, right? And I say, well yes, she'd be very very old if she were still alive today. But she lived until she was 95 years old.

Jack's eyes get wide, and he says, "95 years old? That's a good life!" You're right, Jack.

Sunny day

The weather was nice outside today. Emily took the afternoon off, and we both took Jack to his swimming class. I go every week, so I see the more gradual improvement, but she hadn't been for more than a month, so she was pretty amazed. We watched as he threw his arms high in the air to do his strokes, lunged through the water at the start of his swimming run, and raised his hand to be chosen for different activities. Afterward, she showered him with praise, and meant it.

We picked up Kate a little early. She seemed pleased that we were all there. "And there's Mommy, and Daddy, and Jack!" We headed home, and since it was nice, we played out in the yard a little bit. Laney ran around, Jack slipped in the mud, Kate was alternately brave and fearful of Laney.

We then took the party around the block. Walking with a puppy, you get a lot of "Ooh, puppy!" and "Wait a minute!" as a little girl ran in the back yard to get a parent, so she could make sure it was OK to pet Laney. Then we saw Jack's friend Nick, riding his bike -- and I realized I have to get Jack out practicing on his bike so he can ditch the training wheels, good grief -- and played a bit in his back yard, chatted with his Mom, heard Kate deliver some ear-piercing screams when she was surprised by a dog the size of a Buick, and generally enjoyed the nice weather. Much later it occurred to me we wouldn't have gone on that walk if we didn't have a dog.

Nice day out.

Day with Jack

Had Jack at home today, some Superintendents conference at his school or something. We went to the bank, ate breakfast at the diner (he ordered pancakes, craned his neck to watch the fish at the aquarium one table over, and ate my bacon), took Laney on a long walk, and played Checkers (he won) and Parcheesi (I did), just barely.

Late in the afternoon, we switched on the TV and he got to see his first-ever Bugs Bunny cartoon. Much to my relief it was not one of the newer, lame ones, but instead the one with the Bullfight. He laughed uproariously in all the right places, most notably when Bugs led the bull on a dainty dance across the ring.

Before picking up Kate, we went to the grocery store, and as we left, Jack noticed, as he always does, the sign for Loews Theatres. At that point, this conversation ensued.

"We should go see a movie." Well, I said, we have to get Kate in 10 minutes.

"We should go see one that's just ending, and then go get Kate." So, you think we should pay to see the last 10 minutes of some movie, and then get Kate afterward?

"I didn't think we'd have to pay, we could just get tickets out of the machine, right?" Jack, we'd have to buy the tickets. Everything costs money.

"What about drawing a picture? That doesn't cost money." Well, you have to buy the paper and the markers.

"What about reading a book?" Well, you had to buy the book. Jack, everything costs money.

"EVERYTHING doesn't cost money. What about falling down? Falling down doesn't cost money." Well...what if you hurt yourself? You might have to go see the doctor. Or buy a band-aid.

"Well, but what if you fell down and a band-aid was right on the street next to you." Pause. OK, I guess you're right, in that case it wouldn't cost money.

"See, everything doesn't cost money!"

You're right, Jack.

Football

With the NFL in lockout, awesome, Jack and I nevertheless continue playing our indoor football game. We play in the playroom, in the short side of the L-shaped room. (The long side wouldn't work because my computer is at one end and a TV at the other. Plus our throws would hit the ceiling if we were further apart.) As it is our field is about 25 feet or so, maybe a little more, which is fine.

We use a mini-Jets football, about the size of a grapefruit. But you know, football-shaped. If we misplace it, or it gets stuck behind the TV, we switch to the mini-Patriots football. And yes, sometimes when Jack isn't looking I bash them together like they're the helmets on Monday Night Football's pregame show. I play on my knees, because otherwise all my throws would hit the ceiling, and I'm only allowed to make catches with one hand, because otherwise I'd clobber him. I mean, he's 6, and I have a lifetime of playing minimally athletic games.

Anyway, we usually play to about 30. He zips me one, I catch it or not, I zip it back. We're getting pretty good at it; I think we snagged eight in a row, collectively, today. The problem comes if I get a lead, at which point he sails throws well over my head (again, I play from my knees), or into the carpet. Sometimes I respond with one he can't catch, usually just throwing it a little faster than normal. But generally I play fair, and encourage him to do the same, although granted he typically wins. Because if he didn't, I wouldn't get to see him do his victory dance, with him spiking the ball and all that.

Looking forward to taking the game outside before much longer. Because my knees are kind of killing me.

dancing in the kitchen

sometimes after dinner, cleaning up dishes, i'll put music on, and one or both of the kids will wander in and dance. sometimes i'll join in, sometimes watch and enjoy, it varies.

so tonight the song was the up-tempo Hoodoo Gurus song "I want you back". And in walks Kate, in a sweater dress, wearing Emily's running shoes, and holding a tiny wooden American flag.

she listens for a minute, asks what the song is, then starts smiling, dancing, and waving the flag. but since the sneakers were so big on her, she couldn't lift her feet. so she kind of shuffled her feet, bouncing up and down in place, and waving the flag, impressively in time with the music. it was beautiful and awesome.

I joined in.

Day 12

Sometimes when I put the kids to bed I say, "I had a good day with you today," because I did. So I did that with Kate tonight. She looked at me curiously and said, "What did we do?"

Well, we got up, had breakfast, fed Laney, did the Dora puzzle, went to the grocery store, you went with Mommy to get curtains, we had lunch, Grampa came over and put you down for a nap. Then we had an apple snack, went out in the front yard to jump off the stump, went out for a bike ride, you rode your tricycle and said, "look at me!" and "I want Laney to smell my bicycle," yes I realize that makes no sense. Then we played with the soccer ball in the backyard, then we went out to get Mexican food for dinner, and as usual you only ate chips, but then we came home, and you had water, and we got you in your pajamas, and washed up, and I read you Thidwick the Big-Hearted Moose, and then I sang you "Swing on a Star," and you woke me up when I fell asleep before I got to the monkey, and then I told you I had a good day with you today.

And then I said goodnight and you went to sleep.

Day 11 of the 31-Day Blog Project

Can't stop me now. Jack went to school and had a playdate today. Kate stayed home. Here's how things went.

- Kate and I had breakfast, her 2nd and my first. She had two waffles, a yogurt, milk, and juice, and wanted more food. I gave her half of my waffle.

- We did a puzzle in the living room. With Kate, doing a puzzle typically consists of her doing it, and saying she doesn't need any help if you try to put in a piece. She did it twice and then graciously let me put in some pieces the third time. Thanks, Kate.

- Took Kate to get her haircut. She sat in the Barbie car at "Sharkey's"; I admit I kind of want to take the big stuffed shark in the window one of these days. She held up little toys to show me as the haircut went on. At the end she got a lollipop and a balloon. She noisily enjoyed the lollipop all the way home. I played a game of pinball during her haircut. I'm not sure if the machine is there for the kids or the parents, but I also don't know if kids have any idea what a pinball machine even is, so I felt I was doing it a favor by playing it. Finally I let Kate drag me away. In fairness, my alternative to playing pinball would have been reading magazines clearly geared toward females.

- Back home, we took Laney for a walk. I walked down the middle of the sidewalk holding the middle of the leash, with Kate on one side holding the end and Laney on the other side wearing it around her neck. Basically I focused on making sure neither one got too close to the other so there wasn't too much angst. Laney seems interested in eating leaves and branches. I don't know what's up with that.

- Lunch was leftover chicken and rice. During the same meal Kate claimed she didn't, did, and didn't like mushrooms. I had the chicken, Kate the rice.

- Kate napped, I trained Laney to rip big strips of fabric out of my pants. Seemed that way, anyway.

- Kate woke up, we had apples, and then did more puzzles. Kate likes doing the easy ones over and over, and getting my help with the harder ones, with which she quickly loses interest. Or maybe she was just nonplussed by the one implausibly featuring a zebra playing a guitar.

- We went to get Jack. As we arrived, I saw him helping himself to a piece of gum. His snack at his playdate was gum, a lollipop, and a chocolate donut. Excellent!

- Back at home, I installed a gate and Jack and Kate played some games that involved rolling a pool ball around the floor and taking their pillows off their beds. It's a rare day that we don't have to go looking for their pillows before bedtime.

- Bingo Night at Jack's school. Jack got a little too into it. When he and his friend Brian are shouting back and forth, "I'm only one number away! C'mon, N 32!!!!!!!!!!!!" I start to get a little concerned. Plus I was really hoping for N 36, myself, 'cause Daddy needs a new wooden airplane with a rubber band propeller.

- Got home and put the kids to bed; Jack was convinced that everyone won at Bingo but us. Well Jack, there were 200 people there, and about 10 people won. "But Nick won!" he lamented. Well, maybe you'll win next year, I said. Or we'll head down to Atlantic City and I'll sneak you into the casino under my coat. Just kidding.

- Jack had bought cookies with the dollar I gave him at Bingo Night; I saw him and his friends tearing around the gym, gleefully holding up their cookies. Kate didn't get one, so Emily promised her one when she got home. As I headed upstairs with Jack, she sat on the kitchen stool, eating her cookie, drinking a glass of milk, and smiling out from under her new haircut.

Kate to bed

Put Kate to bed tonight. Started with her bath, which she enjoys (except for the actual bathing part). She pretends to swim, she colors on the walls of the tub with bath markers, she says silly things. Today she was talking about my phone. "You can call Mommy with it, and you can take pictures with it, and you can read things with it, and EVERYTHING." And what else? I ask. And she gets a goofy look on her face and shakes her head back and forth and says "Ooga ooga booga booga!" She can be very silly.

After the bath, I'm helping her get dressed. Recently she became able to put her arms in her sleeves more successfully, and it's funny, because she talks about it all like it's the most easy thing in the world. "And I can put my arms in my sleeves MYSELF, of course. And of course I can put on my pants, too."

Then we head into the bathroom. She sometimes runs, high-stepping, happy. And once there, she talks about the things we have to do. "And we have to brush my teeth, and then you need to comb my hair, right, Daddy? Because it has ....nasarls in it." Snarls, I say? "Yes. Sanarls."

We finish up, run back to her room, and read a couple of stories. "I turn out the light, OK, Daddy?" Yes, Kate. And she does.

more swimming

Jack's swimming class today was the last of this "session," though a new one starts next week. But today, he got graded on everything they'd done so far.

The class began with the kids in the water at the shallow end (about 3.5 feet). One of the teachers would bring a kid a little ways out and have him do different things, while the other kids appeared to be engaging in a splashing war with the other teacher. Looked like fun; I heard Jack's bubbling laughter every so often. The other teacher was a big guy so at times he stood like a tree trunk, and the kids sort of hung off his arms like monkeys. Funny.

When the other teacher brought Jack out, I saw him swim on his front, and float on his back, and do some kicks and some crude backstrokes. Pretty smooth, it seemed.

Eventually they headed down to the deep end of the pool (10 feet). They swum down with a kickboard, and I get nervous at this part because once Jack lost the kickboard, so it was a little worrying at the time (a teacher swum over to give it back to him). They climbed out at the deep end and I saw what the deal was. One teacher stood about 30 feet away in the water, the other was out of the water. The kids would jump in, bob up, and swim to the teacher 30 or so feet away. He'd then turn them around, and they'd swim back.

A month ago, Jack didn't want to jump in the water, period, unless someone was there to catch him. But as I watched, he jumped in, went down, bobbed up, and swam the whole way. And back. I watched in kind of amazement, and then more as he did it again. I stood up and walked near the edge for this one, because he looked kind of tired by the end of the second time. But, he did it. Then everyone got their boards back and swum the length of the pool. Jack seems to like to win these things, so I watched with some trepidation as he gave it his all, but still seemed to be laboring. At the end, he was kind of treading water with the board, so he grabbed onto a rope, rested a minute, then swam the rest of the way.

I got him out of the water, wrapped him in a towel, told him how proud I was. He was kind of beaming about it too: "I didn't think I could do it, but I did!" he said. "I even treaded water for a long time, too!"

I talked to the teacher afterward, who'd written a note about how hard Jack had worked, and how he'd grown as a swimmer. He used the word "amazing," and I said, well yeah, I'm amazed, because I couldn't believe he could do what he did today, compared to where he was at a couple of months ago.

My son learning to swim, it's a beautiful thing.

Day 8! Low on kids, big on dog

Jack had an afterschool playdate, Kate was in school all day, and the puppy had a vet trip and I had a full-time job keeping her from shredding any more of my clothes. But, we got through it all, and at 5:30, we were all home in the kitchen, me making egg pizza (Jack's favorite, and one of Kate's too), Jack and Kate coloring, Laney chewing on something or other.

Jack asked to hear the Police CD, again. I really need to get another Police CD.

Kate asked if she could feed Laney a treat, and if I could hold her in my lap so she could pet her. Trying to be brave, good girl Kate.

They both ate all their dinner, and went into the kitchen together to get a chocolate chip cookie. They even brought two out for me and Emily; now that's service.

Gave Kate her bath; she fretted during her shampoo, as per usual; then played by stretching out on her stomach. "I'm swimming!"

Kate picked out stories, Dr. Seuss and Karen Katz selections that could not possibly be more different in terms of coolness and cleverness. But she likes them both, so I read them dutifully.

Get the kids in bed, spend an hour or two cleaning up and trying to train the puppy not to destroy everything, and am able to sit down and blog in time with the end of Goodfellas on AMC. It's edited, but that scene were Ray Liotta is trying to get a dozen different things done at the same time one afternoon works just fine anyway.

Day 7!

Picked up Jack at school. As usual, he had another kid locked at his elbow. "Can we have a playdate?" Today it was Dylan, and I said I'd talked with Dylan's Mom and they were going to have a playdate on Friday. They both said, "Oh," and ran off to the playground. A few minutes later, Jack came back, with his friend Brian. I also saw Brian's Mom. "Can we have a playdate?"They asked in unison. His Mom said, today wasn't good, but they could do a future day, maybe Saturday? I said that was fine. Jack went looking for Dylan again.

We headed back from school. I asked Jack how his day was. "Grreaaatttt!" he said. It didn't really sound like Tony the Tiger or anything. I said, what was the best part. He said, "All of it." OK then.

At home, we played with Laney for a bit. Jack likes to run around with her chasing him; they did that for a while. Then he gets tired, or at least tired of running, and she continues to want to play, so he asks me to put her back on her leash.

He makes two amazing dinosaurs out of K'Next pieces, which are sort of like super Legos or something. He carefully places them in his room so they won't get destroyed by one of the two members of our household under the age of 4.

We play football. I kind of win, 30-29, but let him tie it up with a final catch. We high-five and then he insists we shake and say good game. So we do.

We go and get Kate. As we peer into the "tumble room" at preschool, we see her standing on a gymnastics mat facing one of the other kids, lifting a knee up in the air. Crane technique? She looks at us, smiles, and runs over. I make the same pose. She wants to hug me, but Jack steps into her path and embraces her. She is one part happy and one part annoyed. "Jack!" Then: "Daddy!"

We go home and run around the backyard more with Laney. Kate wants to do it, but shrieks when Laney runs in her direction. Sigh. Later, though, she bravely petted her, and said a tender goodnight through the bars of her crate. Laney's, that is.

I read Jack his dragon book from Mikey. I'm not sure he's really following it (nor am I, since I only get to read every other chapter; Emily is reading him the alternating ones), but he likes it if for no other reason than his cousin sent it to him.

Blog Project Day 6, Dog Day 2

It's the 6th day of consecutive blogging, and the 2nd day of consecutive dogging, ba-DUM-bump. Anyway, Jack had a great time bringing Laney her toys, and when she got up and went into the next room, Kate had a great time picking them up again, bringing them into the same room as Laney, tossing them hurriedly into her vicinity, and climbing up into a chair. She's still kind of nervous about this little dog.


But she was better. Kate petted her when she was lying down, or being held securely by one of us. She didn't shriek as much at the end of the day when Laney walked around in her general space. She threw treats fairly close to her; it almost seemed like one day she might handfeed her, and be calm around her.

And Jack? Well, judging by the picture he drew after dinner, he loves her already.

(BTW, in case the picture doesn't make it clear, it rained like a banshee -- yes, I know, I'm mixing metaphors here -- all day.)

Dog

We adopted a dog today. Supposed to be some kind of lab mix but may in fact be something called a Blackmouth Cur. But that's not important, 'cause she's our dog now regardless.

At the adoption event, where there were probably 100 or so dogs up for adoption, Jack was funny; it was like he was in a toy store, and he was pretty agreeable as to which toy he got. "Can we get this one? I like this one." Then we'd move on to another one, which he'd take one look at. "Can we get this one...." Kate was fascinated by all the dogs, petting and touching them, which made it ironic that when we brought one home, she ran wailing whenever the dog (let's call her Laney, because that's her name) approached her.

So anyway, at home, Jack got her to chase him in the back yard, shrieking with laughter when she did. He picked up sticks and threw them, hoping she'd play fetch. He fed her treats about half as often as he wanted to, which was still too much. He let her sit in his lap, for a moment, but when she put her mouth over his hand, sort of teething at it, that was kind of the end of her sitting in his lap for the day.

We took a family walk around the block. Kate skipped ahead, running faster when Laney picked up her pace. Jack, desperately wanting to help me hold the leash, wanted to play while walking, continually cutting in front of her and running backward. "Good dog!" he said. "Good dog!" Jack, let her walk, I said. We walked slow, fast, forward, backward, with Laney weaving about and us trying to keep her in line, keep Kate from running too fast and Jack from trying to run backward, and doling out treats on the occasion when she did something we wanted her to do.

At home, Jack poured the food into her bowl, and we did more little trips out to the yard. She whined in her crate as we ate dinner, and gave the kids baths. And then she slept.

Family of five, now.

Day 4! Fence repair with Kate, Jack the music critic

On Fridays I have Kate with me; first she and I went out to the hardware store for chicken wire to patch our fence (in anticipation of getting a dog, perhaps, tomorrow). She was very helpful, trying to pull a roll of metal wire taller than her out of the rack. "Here. I get it," she said.

Then the grocery store, where we were able to get a red-and-yellow racecar, even though we only bought two things (and "smashed bottles," the euphemism for turning empty soda and beer cans and bottles into money).

Then home, where I used a staple gun and wire cutters to manipulate the fence into place. Kate wanted to help. How does a three-year old help with a staple gun, wire cutters, and wire chicken fence? Well, she doesn't. But she tries, by following me into narrow spots behind tangles of bushes despite my pleas for her to stay back. Kate, I told you not to come back here. "But I'm helping you."

After school, we picked up Jack. He immediately lit out across the playground with a couple of friends. They spent the next 10 minutes running, running, running. I walked Kate over to the jungle gym area. There were bigger kids on it, so Kate would approach something, see a large kid heading toward it, and slowly back over to me. But, she did get to stand on this little platform thing, hold the bars at either side, and swing slowly, a small smile on her face. Until a big kid got too close and she came over to me again.

______________________________________

I played a "Police" CD for Jack today, Regatta de Blanc. Jack had plenty of opinions.

"I like this music with guitars and drums better than music with keyboards. It's a lot better."

"Reg Aah Tah dee Blanch is the most famous song, and it doesn't even have any WORDS. They're not even SAYING 'reg aah tah dee blanch.'"

"I like when everyone is singing. It's more of a party song."

"I thought THIS guy was Sting, because he has a picture of a bumblebee on his shirt."

"Why are they called 'the Police?'" I don't know, Jack, maybe one of them had his life saved by a policeman. Or maybe they just thought it was a cool name. "Or maybe Sting is a policeman. Or maybe he USED to be a policeman. Or maybe....Stewart or Copeland did. Or...."

"Message in a bottle is my most favorite song." And then he got off his chair and did his typical butt-shaking, foot-stomping, knee-sliding dance, that I promise I did not teach him.

Day 3! running, running, running

I picked Jack up at school today. It was sunny and cold. We said Hi, and I noticed Stephen V's Mom. I turned a moment to say hi to her, at which point Jack and Stephen V, with one mind, lit out for the playground. We were both like, Hey, wait...ah, OK, whatever.

As we watched and made small-talk, they ran directly past the playground and kept on going. And going, to the far corner of the schoolyard. Then they made a sharp left, and kept on running. I said to Susan, Well, uh, they have some energy. As they almost disappeared from sight around the corner of the school, she yelled to Stephen to say in view. I don't know how he heard her, but he veered left again, as did Jack.

Five minutes later, they came back over to us. Stephen was showing his Mom his feet, which I didn't think much of until Jack showed me his. Evidently they ran through a mudhole about six inches deep. Excellent. Jack's cheeks were flushed all the way home.

At home, he called Emily, as we often do, and left a message: "We're going to be going out to get a dog crate and also to get Kate. You can email Daddy's phone."

____________________________

We got the crate, and at night I put it together. Naturally, Jack and Kate wanted to put a couple of dog toys in it. They then climbed into it, happily, and pretended to be dogs. I asked Emily not to put the picture she took up on Facebook. I haven't dared check.

_________________________________

Putting Jack to bed tonight, he looked up at the stars on his ceiling. He said, "I used to just think there were stars in the sky. Now I know that they aren't just stars....they're constellations. Like, the other night, when you showed me The Big Dipper? I used to just think it was a big spoon...."

Swimming, Racquetball, etc.

Day 2! I took Jack to swimming today. I think this was the day when he really turned a corner. Like, I think he's always been into it, right from the first lesson at SUNY Purchase when we went straight from a dentist appointment where he had a tooth pulled and a cavity filled. Then, he hopped into the water like it was nothing, as he did today.

But I also saw him
-Waving back to me as he ran to jump into the pool
-Saying, Me! Me! when the instructor asked for volunteers to do a backstroke
-Easily swimming under the rope separating lanes to get his kickboard, then swimming back
-Getting into a splashing war with the instructor, laughing
-Dutifully turning his head from side to side as he swam, like it was really important to him to get it down exactly right
-Executing a perfect dive (albeit from a sitting position) into the water, with his hands above his head in a V as he tipped forward off the edge of the pool

The lesson ended, he came out of the water all doubled over and with blue lips, as usual, and I wrapped him in a towel and whisked him away.

______________________________________

I told the kids we'd order pizza tonight. "Yay! Yay!" Kate chimed in: "And garlic twists?" No, Kate, we're ordering from Frank's, they serve garlic balls. Kate: "Oh - I know! We can get garlic balls. OK, Daddy?" OK, Kate.

_____________________________________

I mentioned at dinner I was playing racquetball tomorrow with Sophia's Daddy (Sophia is a girl in Jack's class). I forgot that I hadn't ever discussed the sport with them, seeing as I haven't played it in about 15 years.

Jack: "What. In the world. Is racquetball?" I said, well, it's like Tennis, but it's played in a court...
Jack: "What in the world is a court?"

31 Day Blog Project!

So I watched Julie and Julia with Emily the other night, good movie. And I'm not exactly good about blogging every day, but I thought I would try to do it for a month straight. Should have picked February! Anyway, here is Day 1.

________________

Jack's had a loose tooth for the last week or so. We thought he might lose it in Vermont, which would have made things difficult on the Tooth Fairy (or easier, because we could have gone Old School? Hmm? Hmm?), but it hung in there until today. Yesterday I sent him to school with a little plastic tooth holder. Or rather, I gave it to him 5 minutes before we left for school, and he forgot it. But today he brought it, and when I picked him up I asked him if he lost his tooth, and both he and Mrs. Glockenberg said "Yes!"

Jack told me the story, but his phone message to Emily was even better. I will paraphrase: "Hi Mommy. I lost my tooth! Really exciting. I hope I get $3. ... Want me to tell you how it came out? Well, I was eating my apple. Of course. And I bit a seed. And then something was in my mouth, so I spit it out. And you know what it was? MY TOOTH! I know, very exciting. Well, goodbye."

Jack and I played football in the playroom this afternoon. Kate was drawing pictures, but at some point she decided to come over and climb into my lap. Literally climb; she walked up my leg (I play on my knees, otherwise I'm too tall to throw the football) and stood on my hip kind of, sitting on the inside of my elbow. Made continuing to play football difficult, but I managed, and Jack was able to avoid hitting her on his throws. She leaned forward and kissed my forehead. She does great forehead kisses, usually using her hands to hold my head still, then kissing the exact center of my forehead as if there's a target on it.

I read the Grimm's Fairy Tale version of "Red Riding Hood" to Jack. He claimed there was another version of the story where the wolf ate the woodsmen, too. I am not aware of that particular version of the story, but I guess anything is possible.

Skiing

I am not a skier, but that wasn't going to stop me from giving Jack a chance. So today I fed him a breakfast of scrambled eggs (his request), bundled him up in eight layers of clothes (pajamas, thermal shirt, T-shirt, sweatpants, fleece, winter jacket, hat, boots, borrowed ski gloves), and headed off to Thunder Ridge Ski Area, where the mountain snow thunders down upon you. I made that part up, I think.

We had talked up skiing for a few days beforehand, but in retrospect I'm not sure Jack really had any idea what the hell it actually was. He seemed kind of quiet on the way up, perhaps because he had no clue what he was going to do. We went through the various counters and lines (lift ticket for Jack here, helmet here, boots here, skis here). At each one, the person behind the counter tried to make jokes with Jack; he was sort of glassy eyed, to be honest. But we got him all suited up and went outside, at which point he had to go to the bathroom, so we lumbered in, peeled off his various layers, and he went.

Waiting at the ski school, he stood on his skis and I showed him whatever various tips I could remember. Lean forward. Don't cross your skis. Uh...that's about it. Finally the class began, and the whole class -- mostly first-timers too, all kids aged 4-7 -- trudged over to a circle with the instructor. And sat for 10 minutes while they waited for the other one to show up.

Lesson started off with them taking ski poses without skis....then on one ski (that's right, they started out learning on one ski, very James Bond)....then on both skis. Then they headed over to the skiing area, which involved them walking past the lift...but not going up it. I had wondered about that.

Instead, the ski lesson area had a "magic carpet" which was basically like an airport motorized walkway with a slight (10 degree?) incline. The kids stepped onto it at the bottom, and then at the top of this "hill" the kids would stumble off, make their way over to the top of the hill (and/or fall in a heap), and then ski down, with guidance and help from the instructors. They probably did this about 15-20 times each.

Parents could stand behind a fence a little way away from the lesson area, so we did, with our cameras and cell phones (i.e., cameras) clicking away. I saw Jack fall, oh, 10 or 12 times, never big falls, but little falls. And get up. And when he reached the top of the carpet, most of the time, he'd see me, and give me a big grin and a thumbs up. It was awesome.

A couple of times he skied all the way down without falling. When that happened, I'd see one of the instructors, perhaps expecting a fall, run after him, because they didn't know how to stop (beyond falling on their butt, which Jack did plenty of, particularly at the bottom). Sometimes he'd fall on the trail, lie there struggling to get up, get helped up, then continue on his way. But the smile, and the thumbs up, or a wave, was still there as he came up the carpet again.

Afterward, at the pickup area, he saw me. Big grin as I applauded him. Then: "Can I take this helmet off? It's really hurting me." So we took the helmet off. "Can I take these boots off?" Well, not here Jack. I offered to get equipment and head out with him, but it was clear he was wiped out after what ended up being about 2 hours on skis, so we called it a day.

I took some pictures, and he said, "I feel like an all star." And I said, why? And he said, "I'm proud of my skiing." I mean really, does it get any better? I can't imagine.

He told me how the instructors told him to make a pizza with his skis. When I was a kid they called it a snowplow, I think. Jack made a joke: "You mean with an oven?" Then said, "Or should I draw a picture of a piece of pizza, because that's EASY." He's a comedian.

We went to McDonald's for lunch, which he'd spotted on the way there. You want to eat at the lodge? A diner? Any other restaurant in the area? "No, McDonald's." So we did. He inhaled 6 nuggets and all of his fries. And a lot of mine. Are you eating my French fries? I asked. "Just the ones that fell out of the box," he explained.

Jack napped hard on the way home, something he seldom does; granted he was not only exhausted but also slightly windburned and sunburned and probably felt like hibernating from his eight layers of clothes. We played some playroom football at home, because that's kind of a ritual now. Then went to get Kate at preschool.

On the way, he continued to be in a great mood. Glowing, really. We drove by Carvel. Jack said, "I love Carvel, because they make the best Fudgie the Whale. They make a great Fudgie the Football, too. ... Is it called Fudgie? It should be called 'Yummy' the Football....."

He showed Kate his little lift ticket on his jacket. "Look, Kate, I got this sticker at skiing today." Kate, awe in her voice: "Wow, that's pretty cool, Jack." She loves him.

After dinner, Jack told his Mommy all about skiing, all over again. "And they showed us how to turn....and how to make pizzas. Look, I'll show you....."

I am not a skier, but maybe Jack will be. And maybe I will be, too.

Bedtime for Kate, etc.

Putting Kate to bed has its own nuances. She has to put her own toothpaste on her toothbrush, even though she's guaranteed to empty about half the tube if you look away for a moment. She can be a struggle with her pajamas, alternately wanting to do it...and not wanting to do it. Few things are as frustrating as her sitting there with her pajama top half on, unwilling to go any further.

And then, of course, she's sweet: we're in bed settling in to read a story, and she reminds, "Put your arm over me," if I haven't done that yet. She then nestles in, getting comfortable, and we read.

For songs, we tend to always sing "Swing on a star." I ask her what she wants to hear, and she usually says, "Swing-ing on-a star." Sometimes she says "Doe, a deer," and I remind her, no, that's Mommy's song. And she says, "Oh. Right." And "Swing on a star" it is. Sometimes she interrupts me during. "You forgot the horse," she says. No, Kate, horse is next, or, No, Kate, I just did the horse. "Oh. Right."

Sometimes she touches my face as I sing, tracing my eyebrow or something. As if to make sure I'm still there. I finish the song, we hug goodnight, and I head downstairs.

At least until she needs a cup of water, or to have the sheets pulled up again, or.....

_____________________________________________


I had to give Jack a stern talking to today about manners; he wasn't as polite as I'd like at the end of a playdate. He took it pretty hard and was silent, buried in his jacket and hat all the way to pick up Kate after preschool.

Kate of course knew immediately that Jack was upset. "What's wrong, Jack? Daddy, why is my brother sad?" (Love when she calls him 'my brother.') "What's wrong, Jack?" I gave a brief explanation.

As we pulled into the driveway, Kate said to Jack, "It's okay, Jack. Jack! Want to go play with my baby? Jack? Want to go make a house nook in your room?" (They did this yesterday....set up a big scene on his bed with all their stuffed animals and all of their various Valentine's Day candies.) "Come on, Jack." As the door opened, she said, "Want to get out before me, Jack?" (This is occasionally a competition. Tonight, it wasn't.)

Swimming, Level 3

Jack's swimming class started today - Level 3! A step up from his previous class, and we weren't 100 percent sure he was ready; the instructor seemed uncertain herself at the conclusion of that session, questioning his "swimming stamina." But we figured, well, better to be pushed than do the same class again. Right? But, I was still nervous.

I brought him over to the instructor, and he sat down on the edge of the pool. The other 5 kids also came over and got in the water. I started to wonder if Jack wouldn't get in, but he did. In the car on the way there he said, "I hope some of the other kids in my class moved up with me." So he was a little unsure about everything.

I watched each kid take their turn kicking their way out to the instructor. Jack was a little wild, but did OK. The instructor caught him, turned him around, and started him off back. Jack floated on his back, and his front, and clung to the edge some. Seemed a little nervous, I thought. Or maybe it was just me.

Using kickboards, they kicked to the other end of the pool. Clambered out, and jumped in one by one. Jack did one of his better jumps (Later he said, "I did the highest jump!"), went under, bobbed back up.

They swam back to the other side of the pool. He lost his kickboard for a moment; I sprang up, ready to kick my shoes off and dive in fully clothed. But the instructor was right there and retrieved it. Whew.

Afterward, he got out, shivering. I wrapped him in a towel and said to the instructor, Was he OK? He looked nervous at times, we weren't sure if he should move up from Level 2 or not...

Instructor said, Jack did fine. There was some hesitation at first, but he did everything...He's definitely in the right class.

Which was all I needed to hear.

In the locker room afterward, Jack shivered and I helped him get dressed. As usual, he expressed fascination with the combination locks on every locker. "This one is like ours! This one is blue! This one...!"

Heading home, Jack said, "None of the kids from my other class were in this one, but I made a new friend." Later, he said, "We learned 'Chicken, Airplane, Soldier.'" He then demonstrated: they're three different swimming poses. He lifted his knee up for chicken, stuck his arms out for airplane, put his arms at his sides for soldier. And smiled.

Annual checkup

Jack had his 6 year old checkup today. Six! Time flies.

- I picked him up at school and we walked home. He kept wanting to take his jacket off because the sun was out. I kept pushing it back up on his shoulders. He kicked at every snowbank, I think, on the 15-minute walk home.

- We went to Mr. Ruvo's to get his haircut. I read him the Billy Goats Gruff book, since we've done it every time we've been there for almost 4 years now. It's missing a few pages in the middle and I'm still not sure how the little Billy Goat Gruff made it across the bridge. Jack sat relatively still, laughed when the barber tried to shave his neck, and eagerly collected the lollipop ("And one for Kate," which he actually gave to her.)

- Went to the Dr., where they did height and weight (almost 4 inches and 5 pounds since last year), had him read the eye chart with a spoon-like thing held over one eye (I held my breath hoping he wouldn't need glasses yet, he's too young!) -- he passed with flying colors -- and asked him to write his first name. "It's a short one..." she said, and I said, well, he can write his last name too. I looked: he wrote first, last, and middle. Didn't act like it was a big deal.

- She asked him if he ate fruits and vegetables; I was glad to hear him mention "broccoli" and of course carrots, which seem to be his favorite. Showed him the food wheel ("It's important to have lots of color," she said, which he repeated back to her a few minutes later) and the activity pyramid (a little of this - TV - more of this - walking, riding a bike - plenty of this - swimming, running, sports).

- Had him bend over to touch his toes so she could check out his back (aces); checked his ears, eyes, mouth, heart. As she finished each thing he asked her, "No shot?" And: "Shot?" No shot this year.

- Despite being mildly worried about having a shot, Jack was really relaxed about the whole thing. Like he knew he was great but was happy to play along anyway.

- He got stickers afterward, and also got one for Kate (Pluto). At home, they put the sticker on a piece of paper, and he drew her a Pluto in yellow marker. Then he cut it out, and Kate happily took it up to her room to show it to her baby.

dodgeball

Went to play dodgeball last night. It's an annual fundraiser for the Port Chester Youth Baseball League, which Jack may one day play in, in which fathers throw dodge balls at each other and try to avoid getting hurt. Jack came along.

- On the way there in the car, he said, "Should I yell 'Andy'? Because there will be a lot of kids yelling out 'Daddy'."

- Once there, he saw his friend Nick. "Nicky!!!!!!" They sat together, or rather stood together, yelling and whooping and pumping their fists, often related to what was happening on the court, but not always. It was pretty cool.

- We actually did pretty well, but of course we lost a game eventually. As I walked to the sideline, I saw Jack working his way down the stands, and he delivered a line that I suspect Aunt Cathy, who was watching him, or Reanna told him to say. "At least you tried your best!" he yelled.

- One of the other Dad's daughters was there, and she kind of likes Jack. He told me how she tells school stories, and since there are two Jacks in the class, she always specifies, "And then Jack -- you know, the one I like -- said...."

Art show and more

- Jack cleaned the playroom this evening. I asked him to pick up all the markers and construction paper around the table. Checked on him after 10 minutes to find him drawing a picture. Reminded him. Few minutes later he came upstairs: "I have a surprise for you." He'd cleaned the whole thing, well, about as well as a 6-year-old could anyway.

- Kate had an allergic reaction to, apparently, penicillin (which she got for an ear infection). She also had strep a few weeks back. Rough start to the year for Kate. Anyway, she broke out with rashes all over her body. And I mean, all over. Emily thought she looked like former Viking pass rusher John Randle, who used to smear face paint all over his cheeks. Anyway, sometimes it bothered her and she itched, and sometimes she seemed kind of oblivious to it. Like tonight, when I was getting her in her pajamas, and she started dancing in front of me. "Look at my butt! Look at my butt!" More dancing. Sometimes, she's a trooper.

- Jack and Kate played dress up today. Jack wore his Superman cape. Kate wore her Olivia explorer hat. Jack said, "I'm Superman." Kate said, "I'm a princess!" Jack said, "Why don't you be Supergirl?" Kate said, "No, I want to be a princess." So she was. At some point, her huge stuffed duck was wearing the Superman cape. Not sure why.

- Jack and I went sledding today with a kid in his class who lives down the street and his Mom. I'm not sure the two are actually friends; they seemed to just be doing their own thing at the same time as each other. Kind of funny to see them both accepting each other's presence for the benefit of their parents. Or maybe that's just how it seemed to me. Anyway, it was a great sledding trail. Drew bounced his way down the slope on a saucer. Jack zipped down on his lightning-quick snow tube. Crashes were occasional. Wails of pain were relatively rare.

- We worked on Jack's project for the art show at school. It's a dinosaur mural which features a huge volcano, construction paper dinosaurs in different colors, marker-drawn trees, and approximately 5 rolls of Scotch tape. I don't think I'm exaggerating. And an entire gluestick. And more dinosaurs. It is the most awesome art project ever.

- He was interviewed by one of the art show organizers on the phone yesterday. His answers to her questions were great. "I like dinosaurs." "Yes." "Yes." "Ummmm. Yes." "I like to use all kinds of art stuff." "Favorite? Um. A T.Rex." I can't wait to read the interview.

Katie Blog

I write more blogs about Jack, I think. He and I do more activities -- he doesn't have that middle of the day nap, and gets home from school earlier -- and of course he's more talkative in general. So Kate kind of gets short shrift in the blog. But not tonight.

- Kate likes to dance. She does kind of a herky jerky think where her hands kind of float in the air. Big smile; it almost doesn't matter what the music is. "Come dance, Daddy. Come dance."

- She likes to sing. She regularly makes up songs, about pretty much anything. "I...love my...brother....and Daddy and Mommy....too.....Jack is eating....potato chips......I will have some too....."

- She likes to draw. Faces and faces and faces and faces. Sometimes eyes nose mouth, sometimes with hair, recently with little stick arms and legs sometimes, too. She's especially proud when she makes a letter. "I made an H, Daddy! An H!"

- She likes painting, as we did yesterday. I took a picture and whereas Jack kind of looks down at his work, Kate turns on the charm with a big grin.

- She has a love-hate relationship with the camera. We try to get family shots at museums or ballgames and she typically buries her face in Emily's shoulder. But I take pictures of her with a project we made or in her Red Sox sweatshirt, and she simply beams, throwing a smile that lights up her whole face.

- At the doctor the other day her first reaction was to wail and cling to me. Five minutes in she was giggling and offering up winning smiles at every request.

- She's become the exhibitionist Jack was at her age, standing naked before the bath and saying, "I naked! Look at my BUTT. See?" With a little wiggle. Good grief, Kate.

- She''s generous, bringing Jack toys she thinks he's forgotten or lost. "Here's Sammy, Jack. Here's your dragon, Jack. Jack. Jack! Here's your car." Most of the time she hands it to him rather than throwing it in his general direction. Most of the time.

- She reads book by memory. She sings songs by memory. I hear her alone reading books like Where's My Mom. "Hush lil monkey...I will help you find your Mom...she's over here. Oh, no, that's an elephant....." I hear her singing, often long after she was supposed to go to sleep. "Bloom....and grow.....for.....EV....er...."

Skating

Having taken Jack sledding last week, the key winter thing I still wanted to do was go ice skating. (I haven't ruled out skiing; it's possible at some point in the next few weeks.) So today we piled into the car and headed off to Playland.

There's a "kiddie rink," which is for beginners 7 years old and younger. Fortunately they let me on anyway, even though I'm obviously highly experienced, having been on skates I think 2 or 3 times in my life. We got our skates and worked our way over onto the ice. We went a couple of laps around clinging to the rail along the side....then a lap around with just Jack clinging to the rail along the side, and me holding his hand...THEN a lap around with me holding the rail in one hand while Jack skated holding my other hand. And then we went back and forth, and up and down, falling some, without holding the railing. And each time we reached the other side, and grasped the railing, I saw a big grin on his face.

Afterward, with minimal falling and injury, we went to the game room. I played Galaga, and let Jack beat me at air hockey. Or he let me think I let him beat me, one of the two. Then we went to "The Claw" game, where you could grasp a stuffed toy with a metal claw. I explained it was a ripoff, but said I'd try anyway. And indeed, on the second try, I actually picked one of the things up, and the claw just decided it was too heavy halfway up and let go. Five bucks later, we left. I tried to explain to Jack it was a cheat, but it's kind of a difficult thing to do. So I just said, you know, they don't really want you to win these things. And he said, but why? And after some random hemming and hawing I finally said, Well, maybe next time.

We drove home talking about ice skating, and ate Ritz crackers at home.

Sledding

Broke out the "snow tube" today, an inner tube-like sled that Jack got from a friend for his birthday. Interestingly, when I was a kid we actually slid on inner tubes! Which was much better than the red metal saucer sled that Amos once slid into me on and broke my collarbone. I told Jack he could use his new sled and he was pretty excited about it.

We bundled up in our layers -- I went upstairs to get socks and when I came down Jack was completely dressed in snowpants, boots, jacket, hat and gloves, the fastest by far that he's ever suited up -- and headed off. We walked the two blocks through snow-lined streets, thanks to three storms in the last two weeks, and arrived.

I never know for sure with Jack, if he'll be really into something with an element of thrill and danger to it, or scared. Much to my relief, he was completely into it. He climbed in, held the handles, and slid spinning down the hill, me watching with trepidation, hopeful it didn't capsize and send him careening down the hill on his face. It didn't. As he went down, I could hear him yelling, and at the bottom, laughing, great peals of giggling, happy laughter. I slid clunkily down after him on this blue sled I'd bought last winter in February, after what I think was one of the few snowstorms we had.

We went down one hill a few times, and I pointed out a higher one across the ballfield. Again, not sure if he'd be into the idea. He was. I guess, he's 6 now. One brief negative moment when he slid pretty fast and hit a chain link fence, and cried, but I talked him down, and then he was ready for more. He stood up, set his lip, and hiked up the hill again. "Let's race, Daddy."

Birthday Week

Jack's birthday was on a Friday, his party with friends was the previous Sunday, his party with family was the Saturday after, and he also went to two other birthday parties that same weekend. So it was a full week of birthdays.

His party was at "Kids U," which was basically a big gym with inflatable stuff to jump on and run around on. We got there first -- 10 minutes early after being 10 minutes late for his party the previous year -- and Jack and Kate ran around on their own. It was similar to another place they'd been before, so both were pretty comfortable. Then Jack's friends started showing up, and there were highs and lows. It was great when he came out to hug different kids; not so great when on one occasion he was suddenly in tears, either because he hit his head or felt he was being left out of the fun (an odd moment; one minute he was racing around with everyone, the next he was sad because they were in one area while he was in another; the next he was running and laughing with everyone again. Kids.). Best moment: in the midst of it all, with all of his friends running and jumping around (and this one little girl following him incessantly), I saw him stop, to help smaller Kate up onto another level, hugging her to him in his arms to lift her up high enough so she could climb up. And then he climbed up on that level, and did the same thing all over again to help her up yet again.

On his actual birthday, Jack had a snow day from school. We got donuts for breakfast, and in the afternoon, while Kate was napping, Jack and I made a snow dragon -- an honest to goodness dragon, lying in the snow, with an open mouth and wings and curly black leaves for toenails and teeth. It was a truly collaborative effort, something I'd always kind of wanted to make. Jack brought me snow for his legs, and branches to build his tail around, and dug in the snow to find more banana leaves for his toenails. He was beautiful and scary. Then we had Jack's meal request for dinner: chicken nuggets, mini-hot dogs, french fries and green beans. And cupcakes.

The family party had pizza. The party for his friend Olivia: also pizza. Even Jack didn't eat cake at that one, explaining, "I'm saving myself for Fudgie the Whale." (The ice cream cake we had for his party.) We will not be having pizza for a little while. Got Jack a pirate skull balloon and a big number 6. He approved. At night I put my 6-year-old son to bed; he went right to sleep. It had been an exhausting week of birthdays.

Digging dinosaurs

Went to the American Museum of Natural History in New York last week. "To see the dinosaurs," we explained, and that mantra was repeated by the kids in the days leading up to it. Each morning Kate would wake up. "Are we going to see dinosaurs today?" No, Kate, this is Monday. On Thursday we see dinosaurs. Next morning: "We see dinosaurs today?"

It was remarkably easy to drive into the city, park in the garage, take the elevator up to the fourth floor, and see some immense dinosaur skeletons. I honestly have no idea why in four years here this was the first time we'd done it, although I guess the kids wouldn't have appreciated it as much.

And the great thing was that they had fun and were awesome. No whining, no crying, no wanting to be picked up and carried....well, not much until the end. But it was a family outing into a crowded museum in the city with very little stress or angst. (Until we got back to the garage and our car was triple-parked in on both sides and it took half an hour for them to get us out. But anyway.)

We went around and around the skeletons. Jack wanted me to take a picture of him running away from the T. Rex, which was great in part because I wanted Emily to take a picture of ME running away from the T. Rex when we were at the Dinosaur Dig museum over a decade ago. So yes that is where he gets it. So I took the picture, although I'm not sure how much he sold the running. He did at least make a sort of scared face, although it mostly came out as angry/laughing.

Both of them wanted to touch everything. Both of them ducked underneath railings to get even closer to the exhibits; I explained, no no, the railings are to keep YOU out.

Jack was disappointed there weren't sea creature dinosaurs. I admit I was too. Maybe we missed them somewhere.

We went down a floor to see African creatures: elephants, giraffes, zebras. "Zebra!" yelled Kate. Shhh, I said.

Walked through the monkey room. The kids made faces and pretended to be monkeys. Kate made a big loud mouth like she was screaming or saying OOH OOH, one of the above. Jack scratched his head and stood on one foot. He's a good monkey.

We went through the Indian exhibit and Jack was impressed by their weapons and musical instrument. I think Kate liked their dolls.

At the gift shop, Kate picked out a stuffed monkey. (I thought this was fine because they liked the monkey room, and it was no doubt a museum original. Two days later I found the same beanie baby monkey in a toy store near us, not to mention for half the price. At least I won't have to go back into the city when she loses this one.)

I figured Jack would pick out a stuffed toy, and he did look at dinosaurs. But instead he settled on this thing where you could dig, build, and paint your own dinosaur skeleton. It was heavy as a brick -- indeed, it was a brick -- with a skeleton encased inside; you had to dig it out, then assemble it.

The next night, he and Kate and Emily and I -- but mostly him -- spent 2 hours intently digging away with his little hammer and chisel. And then another 2 hours the next morning finishing digging, assembling it, and then painting it. Jack is 5; finding anything that occupies his rapt attention for 4 hours, is amazing.

Each time he found a bone, or extracted it, he was so excited. "Look, daddy! It's a leg bone. A LEG bone!" Kate: "Can I help you, Jack? Can I have a turn?" (She got a turn.)

The dinosaur skeleton, painted white and black with red around its mouth and forearm ("from where it was fighting," Jack explained), stands on our fireplace mantle now.

Christmas

- Emily had bought "Santa Claus socks" -- red socks with a Santa design on them -- to wear on Christmas Day. Thought the kids would be into them. They were: Jack saw them on Christmas Eve and, enchanted, wore them for the next day or so.

- Emily found the "Elf on the Shelf," a tradition where an elf from Santa Claus would show up on different places in the house each morning in December, then disappear overnight (to report to Santa) and return somewhere the next morning, for the kids to find him. Jack especially was into the challenge of finding him each day.

- Late Christmas Eve, after the kids were in bed, built the art table for their play room with my Dad. That was nice.

- Christmas morning, we were sleeping/setting up in the living room. Still dark. Jack awake, padding about upstairs, talking with Nana. I look up, and he's peeking around the corner of the landing. "Wait!" I say. "Not yet." Jack, evidently feeling the need to elaborate: "I"m just so excited to open my presents!"

- They dove through their stockings. Kate: "Look, Jack! Oh, it's Jessie! It's Jessie, Jack!" (From Toy Story.) Jack saw his Bey Blades and I think he gave a little shriek of delight. At one point, they disappeared. Where'd they go? I asked. Oh, the playroom, said Emily. I went down, and they were sitting at the table and chairs we'd built the previous night, pulling out markers and paper and crayons.

- Baba picked out a model police car for Jack to build. He and Jack worked on it together. At the end, there were a bunch of decals to put on, which Jack did with his own unique style.

- Aunt Linda had given us a couple of cute stocking gifts, including tiny windup robots that danced. Jack wound them up, had them dance, and danced goofily with them. A riot.

- Nana read Kate "If you're happy and you know it." Kate did everything with great exuberance, clapping, spinning around, stamping her feet.

- Jack was so excited to get the "How to Train Your Dragon" DVD. "Oh thank you thank you thank you!" You've got to love the appreciation.

- Late in the day, after presents and dinner, I was in the kitchen cleaning up. Kate walked in. "Can we open more presents?" she said hopefully.

- Kate got a couple of dollies, asked me to play with them with her. I did. She asked, "Do you love my dollies? Do you? Do you love them?" Yes, Kate, I do love them.

- One of Jack's presents was a wooden snake that came with paints, so he could make it colorful. He asked if he could paint it a couple of days after Christmas. I needed to work, but said the heck with it, sure, you bet Jack. We went down to the playroom and I spread newspaper out on the table, opened the paints. He took the little thin brushes and held the little snake so carefully, the brushes so carefully, painted every inch of it, red and green with silver glitter glue. I just sat there watching him, concentrating as he worked, seeming so intent, focused, big.

swimming

Took Jack swimming at the Y today. His lessons had ended last week, but it had become a Wednesday routine, and they say kids love routines. Dads too.

We got there, changed, headed out to the pool. Jack grabbed a barbell-like floaty thing and headed into the water. I hadn't gone with him since before his lessons began. So it was pretty cool the stuff he was willing to do, now.

He jumped off the edge of the pool, floated on his back, swam on his front, put his face in the water. Raced me (with the barbell thing). Gave it up 10 feet from the edge of the pool and did a fairly ungainly scoop and paddle to the edge. Floated more on his back. Splashed about on his front. Jumped off the edge again, went under, bobbed up. Not afraid, not nervous. Didn't care that he didn't have a floaty belt on.

Nice to see.

Afterward we showered (he loved the warm water, didn't want to leave...I think we're scrapping baths for showers from now on), got dressed, went to the grocery store, got gas, got Kate. Came home and had French toast for dinner. Watched some of Rudolph, and they both went to bed.

funny jack

- jack and i were walking home from school the other day.

jack said, "i've been eating all of my carrots, and i STILL cant see in the dark! After you left the room last night, i looked at my hand" -- he held his hand out for effect -- "and i couldnt see it!"

yesterday, walking home, we saw a squirrel's body on the road. we'd seen it the past couple of days, and i decided it was time to mention it. Do you think he's sleeping? i asked. jack said, "No, he isn't, he's DEAD." Uh, i dunno, maybe he's sleeping, Jack... "He's FLAT. he's not 'sleeping.' he's DEAD. He's flat, Daddy."

Made me laugh.

Xmas Prep

Kate was home sick today, but there was a lot to do anyway, so we kept busy.

- Went to CVS to get her prescription for amoxycillin (probably misspelled). She has strep. Couldn't find a quarter in the car to feed the meter, so I spent some time looking. Told Kate that Mommy didn't leave me any quarters. "Mommy didn't leave you any quarters!" she said sympathetically.

- In the store, she walked up to a random shelf. "I get medicine, Daddy. I get medicine." She started pulling things off the shelf. Oops.

- We headed to the grocery store. Kate wanted to ride in the cart, and did. She said, "We get coffee? We get fyoot?" (fruit) "We get sooweeall?" (cereal)

- Came home and Kate had her medicine. Spat it all down the front of her shirt. My jaw dropped. After 10-15 minutes of pleading and yelling and cajoling, she finally took a dose. Said, "I like medicine!"

- She ate lunch. Halfway through she said, "I'm ready for my nap." She napped.

- We went to get Jack. Spent 10 minutes looking through the lost and found, again, for his winter hat. Jack also said he wanted to show me something. He walked us into the school, all the way down the hallway, to show me Christmas decorations in this big storage box. He walked us right over to it and opened it up. "See these? Aren't they cool? Can we buy them?" Woman nearby said, those will be for sale at the holiday boutique next week. I said, um, Jack, not now.

- Jack saw Aunt Cathy and stopped, set down his backpack, opened it, and gave her a Hanukah card he'd made.

- We came home and put up Christmas decorations on the lawn. The kids admired them. Kate went out and stood on the sidewalk. "Hi snowman! Hi Rudolph! Happy Christmas!" Jack corrected her. "It's MERRY Christmas," he said.

- We came inside and read "The Grinch." Then they watched The Grinch while I put up more decorations. Then they bundled up again and came out to admire the decorations some more.

- They set up the Playmobil Nativity scene. Kate walked over to me at one point and held up her hand. "I have rings," she said. I didn't understand her at first. "Rings," she said. She was wearing the little hair pieces of the figures. They did a pretty nice job setting it up; I was relieved that they put the Baby Jesus in the manger. Last year I think Jack put the donkey in there.

- Emily read Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer to them. Multiple times.

- We had dinner, and then dug out the Christmas CDs. Emily played her favorite, Jack made critical noises. Then they played The Muppets CD, and were happy.

- Jack read a Charlie Brown book to himself. Slowly, carefully sounding out each word. Then said, "Daddy! You've got to see this funny joke! Her EARMUFFS are too tight! Of COURSE she can't hear!"

- Put Kate to bed and kissed Jack goodnight. It had been a day.

Dinner and bed

Sometimes I find myself getting frustrated with the kids. Mostly it's just them not listening the first time, or the second time. And so I get angry, and speak sharply to them, and with Jack it works, and with Kate sometimes she thinks it's all a joke, until she finally figures it out and either does what I want, or cries because I spoke sharply to her.

And I feel bad even as I'm doing it, because I know it's partly my fault. We do kid around, and we're not always firm, so when we ARE being firm, small wonder they think it's a joke sometimes.

At dinner tonight, I said I was sorry for yelling (some sort of situation where they weren't doing what I asked, so on and so forth). And then Kate said, "You not mad anymore?" And I said no, I'm not mad. And she said, "I not mad. I happy!"

So I said, let's see your mad face. And she gave me this "grrr" look that was totally goofy with her gap teeth. And we all cracked up. And then I asked Jack for his mad face, and his mad face was basically a lips-pursed smile, trying hard not to laugh, while he lowered his eyebrows and flared his nostrils. And we all laughed again.

Then I washed them up, read Chicka Chicka Boom Boom, and put them both to bed.

Sports

- Jack and I are playing football a lot in the yard these days. He's kind of getting it. He can throw a spiral (er, it's not a regulation football). He can catch some. He used to kind of volleyball it away, and he still does with some, but he's gradually figuring out how to pull it in.

- After playing, we raked leaves. Or I raked leaves, and Jack got a shovel and laboriously lifted piles of them into the yard waste trash can. We finished the back and I was ready to knock off, and he said, "What about the front?" He's a little task master, he is.

- Jack picked up "rock, paper, scissors," from somebody, either his cousins or at school. He wants to play it a lot. Of course Kate's gotten into it, so when Jack and Emily were playing in the kitchen, she stood there eagerly: "Can I play? Can I play?" When they said yes, she said, "OK. I'm going to be scissors." Jack, wise to the game of course, made rock every time.

- Kate didn't listen to Mommy tonight, repeatedly, so she had to go to bed without stories. Naturally, this gross injustice made her cry. Jack soothed her: "It's OK, Kate. OK Kate. It's OK." He petted her hand reassuringly. As I was putting him to bed, he said, "Can I go hug Kate again?"

Friday today

A lot happened today.

- We met with Jack's teacher for Parent-Teacher conference. She said he's smart, bright, funny, competitive, kind, likes everyone, and is well-liked. After the meeting we met up with him in the auditorium, where he was waiting with his class, and hugged him goodbye, until I'd pick him up later.

- At the meeting, Kate sat at a desk and on paper we'd brought drew little pictures of faces. As she finished each one, she ran over to us with it, then ran back to draw another one.

- Kate and I went to the grocery store. She helped by pushing the cart, by which I mean hanging on it with her hands and letting her feet dangle. She was disappointed that the deli guy didn't give us a piece of turkey to taste.

- We read a book together, from Aunt Linda, where you make different faces by turning flaps of the book. She was really into it, it was nice to see her talk about each different page.

- We had lunch, she napped, I painted.

- I woke her up and we went to get Jack. She was groggy or cranky (not much difference) and clung to me the whole time. Jack was red-cheeked but happy looking; it was windy and a little cold.

- At home, we played football in the yard for about half an hour. We threw the football around, and when I had it both of them tackled me around the legs. Whenever Jack got the ball he talked about "and it's an interception! and Percy Harvin takes it in for a touchdown!" He's still learning the difference between offensive and defensive players.

- They had their apple and Pirate's Booty snack, then tried to recreated Backyardigan World, a big lego block world they built last year and put the stuffed Backyardigan characters all over. It showed up on the calendar this month. I noticed Jack bringing all the Legos up to the kitchen from the playroom. Um...what are you doing? I asked. Jack said, "We have to look at the picture." Of course.

- Kate ran by, heading upstairs. Where are you going? I asked. "I need to get something," she explained. Of course: her Backyardigans.

- They drew pictures. Jack drew all the NFL team names and logos he could think of. He asked me for some spellings, and I gave him them, and then I told him he could try on his own. I liked his spelling of Seahawks in particular: SEWHOKS.

- Kate drew a picture of a face, with squiggly hair, and the letter she knows how to draw: P. All over the page. She brought it to me and said, "You can keep it if you WANT to." There's only one answer.

- Emily came home, having picked up Kate's preschool formal pictures. Stunning. She's become a little girl almost overnight, it seems.

- We made pizzas for dinner. I shaped Jack's like Scooby-Doo, as requested, and Kate's like a kitty. Kind of. Hers looked like a sock and his looked like an alien or something. They covered them with cheese, and ate a whole lot of cheese and a whole lot of tomatoes.

- They ate. "I eat my whole dinner!" Kate said, as she took about her third bite. Great, Kate. "I'm going to eat my whole dinner," she said again. She didn't, but she did OK.

- They ran around the playroom throwing the toy football against the wall and jumping onto the futon. Over and over.

- I started reading Kate's book, What the Ladybird Heard, while she was still dawdling with her teeth getting brushed. She heard, and got serious. "Oh! Daddy is reading. Without me! Daddy, wait." She ran in. "You forgot ME," she said. Nope, I couldn't.

- Jack came down to say another good night.

Just another Friday today.

playing together

Today I played some football in the backyard with Jack and Kate. I held the ball, and they took turns running up and kicking it. We've done it the last two days, it's become a routine now I like to think.

I went in after that, but they stayed outside. I checked on them every few minutes. At one point they were sitting, facing each other, holding their hands up. Patty-cake I think. I checked again a few minutes later, and they were standing up, pretending to fall down, laughing.

Then Jack was teaching her how to do animals. Arms over head, giraffe. Arms swinging low, elephant. Lion. Other animals.

They started singing bedtime songs to each other. Edelweiss, Mr. Sun, other staples. Sometimes Jack was louder, but Kate's voice would seep in every now and then.

Not aware I was watching them, they played and laughed and made up games and songs and dances for each other.

Half an hour later, maybe longer, they came in, their cheeks red and eyes bright. It was kind of cold out. "Daddy!" We lay on the rug together, catching our breath and being happy.

Pre-Halloween

- Jack's class's Halloween parade was today. I brought Kate, in her dragon costume. We stood along the sidewalk and watched his class, all the classes, walk out. Jack was in his orange astronaut uniform. Next to him was a boy named Isaac, in a white astronaut uniform. They both smiled and waved. Jack saw us, big grin, pointed. It was very Right Stuff.

- Afterward we came home, and they played a little, at one point going upstairs, then Kate came down in her Olivia costume/outfit. "I Olivia!" she said happily.

- We carved, well I carved, two pumpkins. One Thursday night, happy and goofy, same one I always do. One this afternoon, scary. I lit them both up for the kids to see. Jack looked sad. What's up, I asked. "I wanted you to make a 'Jets' pumpkin," he said. He showed me the picture he had drawn of the model for the scary pumpkin. It had the word "Jets" on it. I carved the word "Jets" into the back of it. Jack was happy.

- Jack got a "make your own ghost" card from Grandma. He diligently sat down, before he had breakfast, to make a very detailed and happy ghost with the stickers on the blank white page.

- We sat as a family on the couch and watched "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown." When Snoopy is imagining his fight with the Red Baron, and the colors change and go wild, Kate reported, "He's purple." Pause. "Now he's blue." "Now it's all blue." "Now he's red."

- They got musical Halloween cards from Nana and Baba. They played them over and over and over, dancing around in their costumes.

getting pumpkins

Last Friday Kate and I picked Jack up at school. It was overcast and seemed like it might rain, so I gave them a choice. Do you want to go home, or do you want to go and get pumpkins? "Get pumpkins!" they shouted. So we did.

As we drove into Sam Bridge Greenery (or whatever it's called, Davy Crockett Motor Lodge or something), they saw the pumpkin patch. "Yay! Pumpkin!" We parked, grabbed a wagon, grabbed a big golfing umbrella from the back of the car. Passed a mom and child near the parking lot at a little stand of pumpkins. She said to us, Are you going all the way down to the big patch? She looked at the sky doubtfully. I said, Sure! And indeed, we were.

On the way there were scary decorations hanging from trees. Bats, skeletons, ghosts. The kids pointed and properly appreciated them, it was nice. If it had been dark and scary, they'd have been freaking out, but instead it was just an overcast Friday afternoon. With occasional raindrops.

At the patch, they jumped out of the wagon. First they ran around the pumpkins. Then a hay maze. Like your Minotaurus game, I should have said to Jack, but I forgot. Then over to this huge bear made out of hay bales, and a huge spider or something made out of hay bales. I wanted them to pose for pictures, but Kate was wary. She agreed ultimately, but didn't stand as close to the thing as Jack did. In fairness, it was very big and imposing. But it had a goofy smile.

We picked our pumpkins. And then picked some more. And then found better ones. And then they went back to the hay bales. And then they got their little pumpkins. And then it rained, and we loaded the pumpkins in one wagon, but they of course both wanted to ride too. I said it couldn't be done, and Jack pulled Kate in one wagon for about two minutes.

Then I with no small exertion pulled both wagons back to the parking lot.

We paid for our pumpkins. Near the registers, they had a smoke machine. One of the staffers turned it on to startle us. Then showed Jack and Kate how to turn it on. Then they filled the store with fake smoke. I said to them, well, I could have told you this would happen.

A guy gave Jack and Kate each a hardened ear of red, Halloween-y corn. They thought it was pretty great.

We piled into the car. I don't remember what we talked about, but everyone was happy.

At home, I read Jack a story. Jack said, "Can Corn read with us, too?" I said, corn? He held up his ear of corn which he had named "Corn."

Good time.

Jack the artist, Kate the singer

- Jack decorated my keyboard by taping smiling paper Halloween spiders, purple and black, in a row across the top of it. He wrote "HAPPY HALLOWEEN" on a piece of Scotch tape and stuck across the desk.

- Kate this morning was singing to her stuffed Backyardigans toys. She lines them up in her bed, heads on her pillow, and sings to them individually. "Uniqua, Uniqua....Pablo, Pablo..." She does it in a sweet, soft, high, sing-songy voice.

- Jack drew a picture of a Haunted House, with all kinds of ghosts, bats, cats, skeletons, etc. There were a lot of bats and goblins. Some came from the Ed Emberly book, some from his mind. He made a card that said "Happy Halloween," "Merry Christmas" and other holiday salutations. Oh yes, Robin, his birthday cards for the twins also say "Happy Halloween." I'll mail them soonish.

- I got Kate up this morning. Kate, do you want breakfast now, or do you want to watch football highlights? "Foohball highlighs!" So we did.

- I took Jack to the doctor yesterday; turns out he had strep throat. While we sat in the doctor's office, he grabbed some crayons and drew pictures on the paper roll on the examination table, and then on her clipboard when she came in. Cats, dogs, and bats. Halloween pictures.

- When I put Kate to bed, she likes "Swing on a Star" the best. She likes to start singing it, then asks me too when she can't remember any more words. "Would you like to swing on a stahr....cahry moombeans home in ...jahr.....and be better off than you are....or would you rather be fish. Fish is a aminal" (that's how she says it, it's awesome) "that lives on a farm. ...likes to read book...has lots of charm...Your turn, Daddy!"

Kids

Jack and I went out to buy Halloween decorations today. We got decorations for the windows, the doors, the porch, and of course Jack's room. We found these things that fit in windows, big full poster-size images. First we saw pumpkins....then black cats... (got those for Katie)....and then -- and Jack actually chortled with glee -- scary ghosts.

He had to have them. I said, are you sure? He was sure. Not the pumpkins or the cats? No. No! The ghosts. The ghosts are perfect. He was certain.

We bought the ghosts, and we came home. Jack and I put the ghost poster thing up on his closet door. We both reveled in it and pretended to be scared.

After we put the kids to bed tonight and we're sitting on the couch, Jack came downstairs.

"I'm scared of the ghost on my door," he said flatly.

I went back upstairs with him, opened his door so he couldn't see it, and that was OK.

Guest Blog: "You teach me how to swim, right mommy?"

I've been too busy to blog, and so has Emily, but she still made the time to do a guest blog tonight. And here it is.

By Real Mom.

Toward the end of summer I figured I should sign Jack and Kate up for swimming lessons. Jack had been taking lessons through the Y’s daycare program for about 2 years. Kate had some mommy and me lessons when she was about a year old but we stopped them because I hated them. The pool was always freezing, plus the water was fairly deep and even I had a hard time standing up and keeping my balance. Anyway, they both had started to really love swimming at the beach this summer. Kate would hold on to my hands, arms outstretched, kicking, saying “Mommy! I swimming! I swimming!” So, I really wanted to keep up with the lessons so they would stay comfortable in the water, since they both tend to…shall we say, be a little tentative with the unfamiliar.

So, after first signing them up with the Y – where they all but promised they’d turn into Michael Phelps after about 2 lessons – I ended up changing over to SUNY Purchase, where their cousins had taken lessons. Plus, bonus: it was $100 cheaper, each. Jack would take beginner-intermediate lessons on Wednesdays after school. I took a leap of faith and signed up Kate for solo lessons (without a parent in the water), for Saturday mornings.

Two weeks ago, Kate had her first lesson. She had to get a swim cap, so I got her a cute little red one with a kitten’s face on it. It even had little ears. So cute. I walked her over to where the lesson was happening. As we neared the end of the pool, she immediately started shrieking and crying and holding on to me with all the strength her little body could muster. Somehow I pried her away from me and handed her over to her very nice and patient instructor, Caroline. All the other little girls and boys were gamely standing on a little platform in the water. Kate was busy shrieking in poor Caroline’s ear, reaching for me. So after about 5 minutes of that, I said, well, why don’t we try watching for a while. Caroline handed her back over, and Kate and I sat by the side of the pool and watched. After about 10 minutes, I said, hey Kate, why don’t you try getting in again? And she nodded (she was sucking her thumb, of course, so didn’t actually speak.), but then once I started handing her over and the shrieking recommenced. That poor teacher. Anywho. After about 5 minutes, I got her out again, we watched about another 10 minutes, and then, I thought, oh hell, let’s just get out of here. And I was ticked at what I viewed as the weakness in my children that they were always the ones to shriek in terror at new things while other children seemed to just go happily with the flow. And, PS, I was soaking wet. Not surprisingly my pants got wet sitting on the side of the pool, so it kind of looked like I peed in my pants. Excellent.

And naturally, there was no lesson the next week because of Yom Kipper, so it’s not even like we could go get back on the proverbial horse right away.

I considered just cancelling the whole damn thing, but then, I thought, no, I don’t want them to be quitters. So I told Andy to see if he could call and maybe transfer her to a class where the parent was in the water. Surely she wouldn’t shriek and cry if we were in the water with her, right?

Last night: I’m putting Kate to bed, talking up today’s swimming lesson. “Are you going to cry in the pool tomorrow, Katie?” “No!” she says: “I swim like this:” and proceeded to lay down on her belly, kicking behind her and thrashing her arms some, pretending she’s swimming. “You teach me swim, mommy?” She asks. You bet, sweetie, I tell her.

This morning she couldn’t wait to get her suit on. She kept saying, “You teach me swim, mommy?” And I answered yes over and over. We got to the pool, and she even let me put her hair in a ponytail so her swim cap would be easier to put on. And we walked over to the side of the pool.

And the same thing starts happening. There’s crying, screaming, wailing, shrieking, and she’s got the death grip on me again. I kept reassuring her: “Sweetie, I’m coming in with you. I’m coming in with you this time!” I pried her off me to hand her over to the teacher (oh, poor Caroline again), so I could climb down the ladder. The water was definitely warmer and more shallow then the Y’s so I was feeling much more at ease. But she kept crying and shrieking, and I was doing my best to be calm and happy and peppy, but I was kind of thinking, Jesus Kate, get it together! Six other kids in the class, all of them bobbing happily up and down in the water with their moms or dads. And Kate, shrieking, “I want to get OUUUUUUUTTTTT!”

But, we kept on. I pried her off me to hand her over to the other teacher, Jennifer for a bit. She kept crying but at least she kind of kicked as the teacher handed her back to me. But she kept CRYING.

After about 10 minutes of this nonsense, I said, “Kate, if you stop crying, we’ll go to Wendy’s when we’re done!” (What can I say, I was desperate.)

Bingo. She stops crying. For about 5 minutes it was touch and go, she’d be fine and be laughing, and then start crying again. And then she got into it. She starts doing all the activities. Lays down with my hands supporting her back for a back float. “Ooooh, this is nice…” she says. Lets me tie a floatie backpack on so she can practice kicking while she throws a little rubber duck as far as she can (must mention, the swim teachers were impressed with her arm strength.) Now she’s laughing. “This is FUN, mommy!” she says.

Then the teacher gets out a hula hoop. She holds it half in and out of the water. The point being for the parent to be on one side, teacher on the other. The parent’s supposed to hand off the kid, while the teacher swoops the kid’s head underwater. So, we’re going around the circle, the whole time I’m debating with myself, “Should I have her try or not?” Then it’s our turn, and I decide. I tell the teacher to please only put her chin in the water; it’s been going so well I don’t want a setback. She nods in agreement and gets dips chin in the water. “AGAIN!” Kate says, but we each only get one turn. A father next to me turns and says, “Smart move. Why push it, right?” I shook my head in agreement and said, Yeah, no kidding.

Then. THEN. It’s time to learn how to jump from the pool deck into the water. Has Andy ever mentioned how much Kate loves to jump? She jumps off every step, rock, ledge, and curb she can find. I stay in the water, lift Kate out to the edge (my god, a challenge for those of us who are just as tall as the edge of the pool). “One. Two. THREE. JUMP!!!” She jumps in. “A-GAIN!” So we do it again. And again and again and again. I think she could have spent the whole class just jumping in and out of the pool.

Finally it was time for class to end, and we did some variation of wheels on the bus as sort of a class goodbye. Kate was fantastic. Laughing and giggling, even though she was starting to shiver and her lips were turning purple. And class ends and we get out of the pool, and she turns to me and says, “That was SO MUCH FUN, mommy!”

As promised we stopped at Wendy’s, and brought it home to eat. We sat in the kitchen and ate our lunch together, just the two of us. And she kept saying, “You teach me how to swim, right mommy?”

And for awhile I thought my chest was going to burst, such was the pride I was feeling for my brave little girl.

Football

Jack's first and perhaps last football game was yesterday; he's officially played more organized football in his life than I have. We found out about the Rye Town Youth Flag Football team through a friend, and although we'd already missed sign ups and stuff given our summer move, we got Jack on a waiting list. Late last week we found out there was an opening, perhaps because some people had dropped out after the first week. Hmm.

So Friday I got an email from the coach saying that the first game was at 9 a.m. Sunday, and to be there 45 minutes early for practice. And that Jack should have mouthguard and a cup. For water? No, a protective cup. In case I haven't mentioned it earlier in this blog, Jack is 5.

So Saturday morning we went out to the store and bought him a mouthguard (which we accidentally melted in boiling water Sunday morning, oops), cup, and strap. Much amusement was had in strapping the thing on, which the next morning at the field I learned we had done improperly anyway. We also played some football in the backyard, running around and tossing it back and forth. So despite some uncertainty, I still figured, eh, it will be 5- and 6-year-olds running around in the grass having fun, right. And it's football, which we love, so, awesome.

Sunday morning we got Jack dressed and headed over to the field, at the high school. Big place with a bunch of big fields that looked sized for giants, but there was his team, the red-jerseyed 49ers. So we went over and met the coach, exchanged a few pleasantries, Jack got his red jersey, and they were off. I watched him run off to join the team.

Practice was a little ways away from where the parents stood; we chatted, and I watched from afar as Jack went through drills. He looked a little uncertain, having missed some time, but I'm still thinking it'd be OK. At one point I saw him pick up a ball (after having it thrown errantly in his general direction) and throw it back to the coach. Good throw, the coach said. I felt a swell of pride.

Shortly before 9, more parents started showing up, gathering on the field. The other team. Cheerleaders! The teams lined up, the coaches yelled instructions, and play began. For each team, several players stood on the sideline, including Jack. He got in for a couple of plays, and had no idea what he was supposed to be doing really, but like in soccer, he gamely ran after the kid with the ball. And then rotated out back to the sideline, to watch some more.

Emily and I stood on the sidelines a little confused by the whole thing. In soccer, nobody stood on the sideline. Well, there was the one game where we had more players than the other team, and the other coach said we should hold some players out, and I looked at him like he was crazy. They're FIVE. What am I supposed to do, while running around calling the game and chasing out of bounds balls, orchestrate an assembly line of players moving on and off the field? Not gonna happen. Maybe he had experience in the football program, I don't know.

Jack came in for one play, lined up on the defensive line, and as the play started, he got flattened by an opposing lineman. It was the kind of play you could see coming, since again Jack didn't really know what he was doing, and the other kid was bigger. The other kid started forward and Jack didn't move; flattened. Later that afternoon, when Jack was in bed with a 102 degree fever, it became clear that he was also starting to get sick, something we didn't know at the time. Not that things would have gone much differently, but standing around in the sun for 2 hours from 8 to 10 Sunday morning and then getting leveled probably didn't help any.

I ran out, scooped him up, carried him back over to the sideline with the other kids who were off the field. The other coach apologized to us, the other kid came over to apologize at the command of the coach, yada yada. It was one of those things. Jack was OK after a couple of minutes. I hung out with him for the rest of the game. Afterward I asked the coach, um, Will he normally get to play more? Because I'm thinking little kids standing on the sideline for an hour or more is silly; if there's an uneven number on the field, so what; everybody doesn't get anywhere near the ball on most plays anyway. The coach said, Yeah, because he missed practices, he didn't really get a chance to have a better understanding of everything, how to pull flags, what to do, etc. Which is true; starting out with a game was probably a mistake (although again, we imagined random chaos like a soccer game, not the structured, college football-like atmosphere we got. I think some of the coaches might be taking things a bit too seriously with 5 and 6 year olds). But that it would be better next time.

Walking off the field afterward, I told Jack I was proud of him, that it was great to see him out there. I tossed him into the air, and we headed off to a late breakfast. We got home, and Jack had his high fever and was in bed most of the day. I didn't feel so hot myself.

This morning I said to Jack (who was feeling better after 12 hours or so of sleep), So Jack, what did you think of playing football. Pause. "OK," he said. Do you think you want to go back next week (actually, I later came to find that the team had evening practices, from 6 to 7:15 on Tuesdays, which around these parts we call dinner time, and that they wanted to have practices on Thursday evenings too. Yikes). Jack shook his head. I said, yeah, that was a little tough out there, huh? He nodded. The previous evening, Emily had asked him if he'd rather play football, or maybe go back to soccer next time. "Go back to soccer," Jack answered quickly.

So Jack, I said, we won't go back. And then maybe next year we'll think about doing it again. And Jack nodded cheerily and said, "Then next year I'll be 6 years old, and I'll be older enough." That's right, Jack. You'll be older enough.

We went out in the backyard and threw the football around, with no rhyme or reason or rule to it. And Jack ran around and chased me and I chased him, and he had a big smile on his face. And football was fun again.

Tooth Fairy Etc.

Jack has had some trips to the dentist lately, thanks I guess to poor brushing on our part combined with unfortunate tooth heredity. So on Wednesday, after school, he and I had to go to the dentist to get a couple of his teeth filled. So I picked him up and, for the fourth straight week, we headed off to the dentist.

We got there, and turned out that Jack needed to have a tooth extracted. The dentist was funny; she said, "We just need to wiggle it. And sometimes when we wiggle it, it just comes right out. And then the Tooth Fairy comes."

As my family knows, there's a story behind the Tooth Fairy for me. The Tooth Fairy always left notes, Scott found out it was actually Dad, told me about it, and I was very upset. So that night I got a note from the Tooth Fairy that put my fears to rest. I think they were normally in my Dad's handwriting and now it was in my Mom's. Anyway, Jack was a trooper, he had his tooth removed, all during it he hung in there, giving me occasional waves and thumbs up and stuff, and I was pretty proud of him.

And then they finished up and he sat up and his mouth was bloody and there was a big hole where his tooth had been, yikes, but he was OK. And then he got stickers and such.

And we piled into the car and headed off, because, you know, Jack's first swimming lesson at SUNY Purchase was ALSO that afternoon. So off we went.

And the big thing I want to say about that is that we changed him into his suit and went down to a swimming pool he'd never been in before to be taught by people he'd never seen before, and he didn't cling to my leg or whatever. No, he got right in the water, and had his lesson.

And at one point they did this thing where they had to swim/lunge for the edge of the pool from a platform. And he did it himself, without a flotation device or anything. And when he was back on the platform he looked over at me, and he gave me the biggest, proudest smile, clearly very happy that he'd done it. And I remember that about an hour ago he was in a chair having a tooth pulled, and I grinned too.

That night, he put his tooth under his pillow. Emily and I debated whether the Tooth Fairy would leave a note or not. I think she talked me out of it, or my own note did. One of the two. But the note I ultimately did sneak in to leave, that he didn't see the next morning (he was too happy about his silver dollars), said "Dear Jack - Congratulations! I'm proud of you. Love, T.F."

3!

Kate turned 3 a few days ago. Three! Some moments.

She wanted cupcakes, not cake. So that's what she got. And she wanted ice cream, of course. Got that too.

For a week leading up to it, she -- having been told about it by us -- would at random moments say "My birthday! For my birthday? My birthday. My birthday!" She was into it.

Jack had talked for two weeks that he was going to get her Backyardigans stickers. So when we did all the shopping for toys and gift bag type stuff, we got her Backyardigans stickers. And a Backyardigans watch. And a bunch of little toy cameras (which I knew she'd love, and Jack did too, and for a week after they walked around with the cameras going "Click." "Click."). The cameras had little animal pictures in them. Jack took a picture of me. He said, "I see a monkey." Thanks, Jack.

Kate didn't want to nap on her birthday. She's starting to want to give up the nap in general. But it's funny when she's really tired, and she'll protest without really protesting. As if to say, well, I will take my nap now, but NORMALLY, I don't want to nap.

We gave Kate a Backyardigans playdough set that we'd held back since last Christmas, from Nana and Baba. (Because she got too much at Christmas.) She and Jack played with it a lot. Today she dug out the Olivia dress-up kit Aunt Robin gave her. Well actually, Jack did. And got dressed in it. And looked ridiculous but made us laugh. And then Kate put it on. At first she was like, "I'm a Christmas girl, I'm a Christmas girl," because it had red bows all over it. Jack said, "No, you're Olivia." So then she ran around, "I'm Olivia, I'm Olivia...."

It was the first time she really enjoyed opening presents; the first time she kind of got it.

How old are you? We asked. "I tree!" she said. "I tree!"