Sick Kate

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

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

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

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

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

Scared Jack

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

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

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

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

Quickly...

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

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

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

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

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

Bookish

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bath time

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

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

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

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

Walking

Kate started walking last week, which was pretty cool.

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

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

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

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

The Rainbow Man

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

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

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

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

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

Rainbow Man.

Apples

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

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

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

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

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

And Kate was happy.

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

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

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

Mr. Clean

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

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

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

Day care

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

To inhale slices of avocado at lunch.

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

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

To kick me while I change her diaper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Random

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

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


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


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

Catching Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Superheroes

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

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

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

I think Jack will like Calvin and Hobbes one day.

Catching Up

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was a week.

Sweet kid

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

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

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

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

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

Cousins

The family headed up to Vermont last week, to see visiting cousins from Ireland. It was 2 years ago -- wow -- when we'd last seen them, meaning Jack was 1 1/2 and probably didn't remember any of them, and Kate hadn't met them at all. Pretty much no way I can recap the entire weekend, so instead I'll go with a stream 0f consciousness type collection of random moments....

- The drive up was about 90 minutes too long thanks to a weather-related traffic jam leaving town, wasting 45 minutes (during which Kate slept) and having her awake and wailing for far more of the trip than we'd have liked. Jack wasn't too thrilled with the whole thing either, but he did have a good nap. Emily briefly distracted him by getting him to count how long it took for a red light to turn green. Good fun.

- We got to Vermont and were descended on by the cousins. Having not seen them all for a couple years, they all seemed huge. Laura is almost as tall as Robin, Niamh is also tall, both the twins are narrow reeds. Jack and Kate both clung to us for about 5 minutes, then suddenly Jack and Mikey were playing with some toy and then all of them were running madly around the house. We basically didn't even see Jack for about the next 2 hours after arrival; he and his cousins were having so much fun. Kate ultimately relaxed too, spending a decent portion of the weekend being lugged around on Niamh's hip; Laura held her a lot and fed her lunch one day. The most time I spent with her all weekend was when I wore the Baby Bjorn for Mini-Golf.

- With four new names to learn, Jack instead opted for more generic labels. Mikey was "My boy cousin." (Which is actually specific, since he's the only one.) Abbey was "my girl cousin," Niamh was "my other girl cousin," and Laura was also "my other girl cousin." Sometimes it would be "my girl cousin who I jumped on the bouncy bed with." It was pretty funny. "I want to sit next to my boy cousin." "Where is my girl cousin." At times, he was in awe of all of them, each of them, on different occasions. He'd want me to get lost, as an example; didn't want to seem to need his Daddy around. He'd want to have the same food or sit in the same chair or do the exact same thing as "my boy cousin." Granted, there were also moments where they fought ("My boy cousin hit me!"), but for the most part he was mesmerized by all of them.

- Mikey's favorite toy was this little dragon he had just got; that was a source of great angst over the next day or two. (Until I relented and just went to Claremont and bought Jack one.) On one occasion Jack got his hands on the dragon; I heard a cry of woe from Mikey and then saw Jack running toward me, dragon clutched in his hands, Mikey hot on his heels. It ended in tears of course, but still kind of amusing in retrospect.

- We'd brought all these little dresses for Kate, in which she just is achingly beautiful, then couldn't dress her in any of them because it was too cold. Fortunately Robin dressed her in one on the last day, over a onesie and pajama bottoms.

- Laura mentioned reading the blog and that she thought the one about Jack's comment "Are you happy at me?" was memorable. That was nice.

- We had our doubts about Jack sleeping in Scott's room with Mikey and Abbey. On previous trips he'd slept in my room with me. Not to worry. Jack got out of his bed after we put him to bed once in four nights, didn't get up before 6 a.m. any of them, and only got up during the night once (that I know of). I was sleeping on the air mattress downstairs, when I was awakened from a sound sleep by a wailing noise that I basically narrowed down to either Jack or Kate, and since Kate was all the way back in Robin's room and there's no way I could have heard her, I figured it was Jack. I went to the stairs. There was Jack at the top, perhaps having checked my room for me and woken up others, I don't know. Tears streaming down his face, standing there in his little shorty pajamas, he gazed down at me. "I'm COOOOLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLDDDDD," he wailed miserably. It did really cool off at night. I came upstairs, dressed him in the dark in long pants and a long-sleeve shirt (Abbey and Mikey had slept through the whole thing, impressive), and put him back to bed.

There's more, but it's late and I'm beat. Anyway, it was fun.

The Walrus

I was putting Jack to bed tonight, when we realized he'd left his two current favorite toys -- the Police Duck, a bath toy duck wearing a police hat, shirt, and badge (and carrying a truncheon!); and the Walrus, a second-hand bath toy from Aunt Cathy, whose judgment I question in terms of allowing him to take home used bath toys as gifts, but whatever -- downstairs. His favorite toys typically change every week or so. So, I headed downstairs to get them.

I found Police Duck, but couldn't find the Walrus. (Koo-koo-ca-choo!) So I found a serviceable replacement (or so I thought -- yeah, right) in the Martian and headed upstairs. I brought them to Jack, gave them to him, and said I couldn't find the Walrus; I promised I'd find him later and put him in his bed after he was asleep.

Jack stood there looking at me, his face not quite able to accept what I was saying. He wasn't exactly about to cry, but he was clearly not willing to take on the idea that he'd be going to bed without his Walrus.

Jack: "Well....well....Can I go look for him? Let me look for him. Because I'm a good finder. I'm good at finding things."

I said, well no, Jack (we had just put Kate down and she was sleeping, finally, and I didn't want Jack to clomp by her room -- we tell him to be quiet so he tries to go on tippy toes with the result being that he basically stomps his feet heavily with each step), but really, I'll get him for you later. And now he was quite upset, eyes all big and sad, and he said, "But....but...."

So I said, well Jack, do you know where he is? Where were you last playing with him?

Jack: "Well, I had him on the couch. And... and then I put him in the Batmobile." (The Batmobile is a medium-sized toy with a roof that opens up, and you can put characters in there and close the roof on them -- and of course, you can't see them.) I said, well Jack, why didn't you tell me? And he kind of shrugged.

So I got the Walrus for him.

Swimming with Jack

Went to the YMCA pool with Jack today. This is an actual Olympic pool in a facility the size of an aircraft hangar -- very impressive. He goes there each week with his daycare on Tuesdays for a half-hour swim class. I'd never been.

It was a first for me: going somewhere and doing something where Jack knew exactly what to do and how to do it, and I was just stumbling along.

He and I took swimming lessons at the YMCA's old pool (the Olympic one is brand-new) when he was about 2 years old. Then, he pretty much clung to me most of the time, was more than ready to get out at the end of the lesson (if not sooner), and really didn't seem to look forward to going. We went again a few months ago, after he'd just started classes at daycare; he was better, but still pretty much stayed with his arms hugged around my neck.

Today was a different story. He WANTED to go, looked forward to it, didn't try to back out of it. We got to the pool, walked to the side, shed our shirts and shoes, no hesitation on his part.

I indicated the large basket of various flotation devices near the pool. So Jack, I said, which one do you use? Jack walked right over. "Oh!" he said. "This one. You put it on like this," he explained helpfully.

I strapped it around his waist and we walked to the edge. It was 5 feet deep. I said, now, how do you get in? Do you jump? And he said, "No, I just slide. Get in, Daddy." So I got in and stood there, and he sat down on his butt and slid off the side of the pool into the water. He laughed (it was cold), and I took his hands. And then he started kicking, the belt holding him up, and I walked backwards, then swam backwards, while he was kind of on his stomach, kicking.

Then he wanted the fish. The fish? I said. I got out while he was at the edge and picked up different things. Is this it? Is this? "No, Daddy," he said patiently. Got out, grabbed the kick board. "This."

Later, he used these floaty things that looked like barbells, one under each arm. With those under his arms and the belt on his waist, he basically bobbed in the water like a cork. I tried to get him to lie down in swimming position, but he preferred to remain upright. And kick. The result was him sort of running through the water, upright, like he was riding a bike or something. Treading water almost. He crossed the entire pool like this. And again, it was a big pool (the short way, but still, a long way). He laughed a lot. Totally comfortable in the water. So, yay Jack's daycare.

Two additional notes:

- He had a little cut on his foot from a couple of days ago that he's been favoring. So he was walking along next to me at the pool with one foot kind of off the ground, sort of hobbling or something. We drew stares. I tried to act like it was no big deal. "Why is that man making his son walk by himself?"

- Afterward we went to the bathroom to take showers. Jack said, "I have to pee!" So, we went into the bathroom. No urinals his level. We went into a stall; there was somebody in the one next to us. As Jack's standing there, he said, "There's somebody over there!" I know, Jack. "Why is he just SITTING THERE?" Jack, please, I'm sure he's just going to the bathroom too. Please focus on-- "But why is he just SITTING THERE?" We got out of there in a hurry. Clearly, the conversation about not talking TO strangers is not the only important one to have with a three-year-old.

Anyway, pretty good time at the pool.

Happy Kate

Some of this stuff I've probably mentioned before, but I spent a lot of time with Kate this week, so I'm noticing it all over again.

The way she crawls - Happy smile on her face, she POUNDS each hand down on the floor, accompanying it with a soundtrack: "Huh...Huh...Huh...HUH!" Big smile. "Huh...Huh...Huh...HUH!" Again and again as she crosses the floor, smiling all the way.

The way she laughs - It just bubbles up out of her, like a pitcher of water overflowing. And it continues to bubble, exploding every once in a while into a bigger laugh, then back to a happy gurgle. And I think she even laughs at her laughing - she certainly laughs at Jack laughing, or at us laughing back at her. It's a riot.

The way she dances - She sits on her butt with her knees splayed out, and rocks and bounces up and down. Her fingers go to her mouth, or she claps, and raises her elbows up in the air. Baby chicken dance? It's like a combination dance and strut without walking, with her elbows and butt bouncing up and down. And oh yeah - she laughs, too.

The crawling game - She crawls across the room ("Huh....Huh...Huh...HUH!"), then pauses, looks back over her shoulder, stops. Makes sure you're paying attention and might follow her. Laughs. Starts crawling again. Pauses. Looks back over her shoulder. Stops. Laughs. Get Jack involved in the game, either as the follower or the one being chased, and it could go on forever for all she cares. Me too, I think.

Jack and Kate's Vermont

We went to Vermont last weekend. Here's how Jack and Kate probably saw it.

THE DRIVE UP:

Kate: Hmm. We're getting in the car again. Supermarket? Comic store? OOH, maybe the swings at the playground. Hope it's a short trip, anyway.
Jack: I get out of school early! We're going to Nana and Baba's! I LOVE their toys! I can't wait to play with the castle and the village and the car and the plane ....
Kate: We're going a long way. This is NOT a quick trip to the supermarket.
Jack: .... and the garage and the record player and ...
Kate: I've got to get out of this seat. Plus I can't see where we're going! The back seat is pretty dull. Facing the wrong way is very frustrating.
Jack: ... the books and the stuffed toys and the bear slippers....
Kate: WAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Jack: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Kate: .....wahhhh..........WAHHHHHHH.......wahhhhhhhhhhhhh........
Jack and Kate: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Jack: Why do Nana and Baba live so far away?
Jack: But why is it so far?
Jack: Is it closer? Is that the distance? Why is that the distance? What are THOSE?
Kate: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzWAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
Jack: Baby Kate, Baby Kate, Baby Kate.......
Kate: sighhhhhh...wahhhhhh....Please let it end.

VERMONT: (Thursday evening)

Jack: Nana! Baba! Molly! Can I get the toys?
Kate: Who. are. these people. And what is that THING sniffing at me? I'm very afraid.

(Middle of night)

Kate: Wahhhhhh!
Jack: I have to pee.
Jack: Daddy, can I take a bath with the big shark tomorrow?
Jack: Is it morning yet?

(Friday)

Kate: OK, these people are all right. The tall one looks a little bit like me, only a little more weathered and stuff. He's definitely got my ears. I'm fascinated by the other one. I think I like her holding me. She's a Mom too.
Jack: Food! Give Molly treats! Watch Aristocats! Run around the yard! Read that funny Mouse Tales book! How did the mouse buy new feet?!!! Play with toys! Car ride going to a fair! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. Lollipop at fair! Hot! Those "ponies" look a lot like big horses. Not sure I want to get on that thing. Long line for ride, too. Let's go home. Play with toys! Hotdog! French fries! Ice cream! Play outside! Bath with big shark! Mouse Tales book! Tired now.......zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

(Saturday)

Jack: Watch Aristocats! Play with Mommy! Go to Quechee with Nana and Baba and Daddy! Ride the train! Carousel! Ice cream! ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ. More playing in the yard! Playing with Mommy! Games! Toys! Mouse Tales book! How did the mouse take off his feet????? Applesauce! Toys! Bath with big shark! Tired nZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzz.
Kate: I didn't have to ride in the car ALL DAY!

(Sunday)

Kate: That dog's kind of interesting. Very soft. Kind of tired today.
Jack: Pancakes....bacon....blueberries....pancakes...Aristocats.......Tired now.

THE DRIVE HOME:

Jack: Bye Nana and Baba. Car ride. Hmm, I'm sleepZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Kate: Bye strange people and dog. Car ride again? WahhZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.