we [the dad] :: team dad blog

How Do You Know If You're Done Having Children?

[Interior, the Thomas kitchen. Evening. Jude walks out of the bathroom with his pants still down]

Stef: "Jude, why are your pants down? Did you use the bathroom?"

Jude: "um . . ."

Stef: [walking into the bathroom and looking in the sink] "Juuuude? Did you stuff the cap to the air freshener into the drain hole in the sink?"

Jude: "A mouse did it."

Scarlett's Letter

I know it's a bit late, but I thought I would post the letter Scarlett wrote to Santa Claus after she went and saw him at the Mall. They'd made a deal that if she was good she would get all the presents she asked for. You know as parents we all want our kids to sound smart--guess I shouldn't have helped her so much with her letter.

THE LETTER:

12.15.09

Dear Santa,

Pursuant to the agreements of our prior meeting on 9 December 2009, regarding, among other subjects, the status of my inclusion or not on your master document detailing all the juvenile members of our behaviorally upstanding citizenry, as well as the nature of the material objects of my desire therein received, resulting from my capitulation to the aforementioned agreements, I formally request complete and timely dispensement of said material objects in the hours leading up to the morning of 25 December 2009 in return for my overall and detailed compliance to your directives, including but not limited to succumbing to the instructions laid out by any and all figures of authority in my general proximity, consuming in complete, without resistance, the whole of all vegetable matter residing on my personal serving vessel during each dinner hour, and retiring peacefully to my sleeping quarters at the required time, having participated in the cleansing rituals there associated.

In return for your timely appearance with the appropriate load of merchandise, I agree to provide you with the traditional accoutrements of baked dessert goods and a lukewarm beverage originating from the bovine ilk. thank you once more for your own compliance in this matter. I look forward to hearing from you.

Sincerely,

Scarlett R. Thomas

Scarlett and MLK

On Friday, Scarlett's kindergarten class learned about MLK Jr. That "he died trying to help people." Which is true of course. But I wanted her to know more about racial inequality, with a bit more depth. That's a hard thing to talk about with a 5-yr-old. as we drove to her Saturday morning piano lessons, we talked about slavery, segregation, civil rights.

Our drive is about 20 minutes long--that one short synopsis of hundreds of years of civil strife. But she was interested and attentive. She asked why certain people were stuck on the back of the bus, why we ever needed separate drinking fountains--"It's just water," she said. And she thought it was sad that people would want to kill someone who was trying to help people. I thought that was a good place to leave it, and I simply agreed with her.

I'll leave you with an excerpt from Dr. King's last speech (a single day before he was killed). It's not "I have a dream" or anything, but it has its moments also. Enjoy.

Keison Laughs

Look Out Leibowitz

For Christmas, we got Scarlett a digital camera. She's real real interested, both using our digital camera an the fisher price "first-camera" she was given awhile back. So we thought she'd like one of her own--the real thing.

She really seems to enjoy it, and for a four year old takes some good pics. And it's funny how the digital age has nurtured a generation of photographers that aren't afraid to snap a million pics in order to get that "one." I can only imagine what Scarlett would have been like back in the day, in a dark room, feverishly working to develop film capturing her next masterpiece--portraits seem to be her thing--

something like this gem:

You can see her love of photography and her love of Barbies, Princesses & High School Musical all melding into one new form of digital art.

That's No Ooopsie - Pt. Deux

Jude's now going diabolical on our asses. But I love when that diabolical nature comes out and it also shows mental growth. Then I'm torn. I'm pissed AND impressed--quite the conflicting emotions.

So As I reported earlier, Jude is attempting to "lose" his nap. He doesn't want to take them anymore. If you don't get him nice and super tired, then you end up listening in on him in the baby monitor for an hour while he jumps up and down in his crib, pulls pictures off the wall and strips his crib of pillows and sheets.

Somehow though he hasn't ever figured out to "go over the wall," even though he could probably hurdle his way out of that crib. It's like the crib has a force field feature that I don't know about. However, he has now figured out a way to get "out" of his crib using his mind.

I know what you are thinking but he's not psychic or a spoonbender or anything like that; whta he's taken to is shouting in his monitor, "Daddy, I've got poop. I've got poop Daddy." It took me twice going in their, pulling him out of the crib, and changing a dry daiper before I realized that I was being purposely duped. There's no poop.

Like I said, I was both pissed and impressed. Way to go Jude.
Joke's on me--Howdy Ho.

Physics Lesson in Suburbia

What happens when the unstoppable force meets the immovable object? Can we remember our studies? Both phenomena seem unalterable. And yet there must be a clash--a transfer of power.

Say the immovable object is, say, an end-table-night-stand in a master bedroom next to a queen size bed. One with all the sharp corners expected of an immovable object.

And say the unstoppable force is, say, Jude. Meet the unstoppable bed-jumping force:

Any questions? Class dismissed.

Is it that time again?

Potty training time? Seriously? Such a labor-intensive endeavor. And yet diapers are such a gag-reflex-intensive endeavor.

When Stef got pregnant with Jude, Scarlett had been out of diapers for just under a year, and I remember how disturbing it was to think that we had just "made it," just gotten free of both the dreaded diapers and the fight to toilet train--we were out and they pulled us right back in.

Diapers are no fun--everyone who's changed one knows this. But potty training isn't fun either. Somedays with Scarlett, it felt like we were losing the battle and the war. Now it looks like it's Jude's turn, which I'm not sure we are ready for. He's not even 2--but he is obsessed with "the toilet." It's all he wants to do is to sit on that thing.

It's admittedly cute: he constantly asks to go to the toilet, he got a kid's-toilet-insert so his small butt fits our big toilet (a top three Xmas gift in his eyes for sure), and he keeps talking about "pee-pee towels" (toilet paper). But we're going through diapers like water--not the most cost-effective time in a toddler's life.

He's got the peeing down pretty good. However, though he constantly says he wants to "poop in the toilet," he gets stage fright. He gets to the bathroom door and then runs away. It's hilarious, it's confounding, it's baffling, it's just like I remember. Maybe I should show him this video clip:

Maybe not . . .

It's like riding a bike . . .

We took Scarlett skiing yesterday. Beautiful 40+ degrees, sunny. A perfect day for hitting the slopes. She's never been, and Stef and I haven't skiied in about a decade.

I was afraid that Scarlett would be a 'lodge-bunny," and at first it didn't look good. she took a lesson and then got "hungry." I thought for sure that she wouldn't make it back to the hill.

But she did. She's a freaking daredevil, a speed-junkie, I tell you!!. "Go faster" is her motto. We had to drag her of the slopes, even after Stef had to take her down, linebacker-style, so she wouldn't eat the fence at the end of the run. Did I mention that she loves to go fast but didn't quite learn how to stop yet? It's a killer combo: fearlessness and extreme-amateurism.

As for Stef and I, we broke out the snowboards for a lesson. I've skiied plenty, but I've never strapped a board to my feet before. Holy shit. It's not, ummm, easy. My tailbone still hurts almost as much as my ego. I will say this--when I put up the snowboard for my skis, it all came flooding back. It IS just like riding a bike, it turns out. I'm as good as I was 10 years ago.

All in all a pretty good time. Makes me wonder why we ever stopped skiing at all.

Twas the Night Before Christmas . . .

Both kids have reached the boiling-over limit--Christmas better get here already, dammit! That's how i feel, and how they feel. Don't stop talkng about, not for ten seconds. Scarlett is a bit better--possibly learning an iota of patience, or at least subtlety.

Jude, on the other hand, is less subtle, less subtle like an anvil from above. He sings jingle bells in his sleep, he reminds everyone constantly that "Santa's co-meen to town!"

Every morning he's been waking up screaming "HA-HA-HO!!"
Not HO-HO-HO but HA-HA-HO.
I'm not sure why (obviously his grasp of the language is still tenuous). there's something charming about it though, and perfectly apt, for his personality.

There's something Merry AND Diabolical about HA-HA-HO.