Shallow Thinker

The pattern of our life hasn’t been the most exciting recently.  Butterfly was sick, then Ladybug.  then Butterfly.  Then Ladybug.  Then Butterfly.  Then….well, hopefully you’ve been able to figure out what the pattern is by now.  Last night, our beautiful pattern of sickness and health was shattered to bits.  Kelley decided that she wanted in on the action so she gobbled up a stomach bug as fast as she could.  Right about the time the girls were drifting off to sleep, Kelley began her fast roll downhill.  I knew she was sick when she decided just to sleep on the couch.  She never lets me have the bed to myself.

As the sun rose, Kelley wasn’t feeling much better, so I started making some calls.  Two contracts at work needed immediate attention, a midterm was scheduled for this evening, and an important meeting was on the calendar for Thursday morning which meant preparations were required.  Geez, how thoughtless of my wife to get sick at a time like this.  Now I was forced to stay home from this high-pressure situation and tend to my girls’ every need.  How would I make it?

The girls have preschool on Tuesday and Thursday mornings, so my first order of business was to get them ready.  I don’t know how Kelley normally does this, but I spent the better part of 30 minutes chasing Ladybug between rooms.  I would have been frustrated, but her squeals of delight every time I caught her softened me quite a bit.  As we walked out the door, Kelley gave her clearest sign yet that she wasn’t well.  She didn’t even take the girls upstairs to change them out of the clothes that I put them in.  Wow…I might better call the emergency room.

After dumping them off for some learning, I ran down to the office to crank out some work.  About three hours late, I met the girls as their classes were letting out.  I was entranced with tails of crafts and games.  We shared a healthy lunch of fried chicken, french fries, and buttery toast (thanks, Zaxby’s!), and then settled down for rest time.  Ladybug napped, Butterfly watched a movie, and I hammered out some e-mails that made it appear like I was still in the office.

The rest of the afternoon, I basked in the joy that my daughters bring.  We shared laughs, giggles, tickles, runs down store aisles, ice cream, and even some songs.  What I was given was far more valuable than the hugs and kisses that I received…though those were much appreciated.  I started this week with a lot on my list that I needed to accomplish.  If I go back in tomorrow, that list will still be sitting there, waiting to be checked.  The time with my daughters, however, will have slipped off into the past.  I am sorry for my wife and her sickness, but I am truly thankful for the time that I got to spend with my girls.  I might have to start taking sick days a little more often.

On Monday afternoon, we took our annual trip to the “pumpkin patch.”  It’s actually just a bunch of pumpkins lined-up at Forest Hills United Methodist Church.  Butterfly was in charge of picking out our pumpkins this year.  Prior to our arrival, she let us in on her strategy. “A BIG giant one for daddy, and itty-bitty, baby one for Ladybug and a medium-sized one for mommy.“  We asked what she would do for one for herself and she simply stated “well, it will be smaller than the medium-sized one, but bigger than the itty-bitty one.”

Upon our arrival, Butterfly helped identify the perfect pumpkins to represent our family.  Ladybug found much joy in patting the big ones and picking up as many small ones as she could.  The bumpy ones intrigued her for a little bit.  Within a few minutes of our arrival, the girls’ gazes shifted from the pumpkins in the patch to the adjacent playground.  Want to guess where we spent most of our time?

My company observes federal holidays.  Columbo Day is named for a guy who seems to not have a clue where he’s going and appears really surprised when he gets there.  Some other internet sites will tell you that the it’s actually called “Columbus Day” and named for Christopher Columbus, but the description of the guy is still pretty accurate.  Heck, we’re still calling people “Indians” even though the dude was thousands of miles off.  So clearly, there’s no reason to celebrate him.  At least Columbo solved crimes.

In keeping with tradition, my family spent the weekend piddling about and achieving very little…which is my favorite way to spend the weekend.

On Friday night, Kelley and I decided to have a “date night”.  (As much as a couple can have one after putting the kids to bed and being unable to leave the house.)  As she grabbed a couple of things around the house, I laid back on the couch to rest…and fell asleep.  Apparently, and you’ll have to forgive me because I’m no expert on this…but apparently, naps are not considered an appropriate way to spend a date night.  This isn’t written anywhere, and my wife never stated this out loud, but somehow, I was supposed to have this information.  Women are so hard to understand.

Saturday morning we took the girls to the Museum of Arts & Sciences (see pictures on Flickr).  They had a blast enjoying all of the exhibits.  Kelley enjoyed the help because we could go with a man-to-man defense and keep up with both girls.  Butterfly wants to sit at each station, absorb all of the information, discuss the findings, and reflect on what it all means…she’s like her mother.  Ladybug, by contrast, enjoys running throughout the museum, pushing anything that looks like a button, breaking objects within reach, and  trying to lick the monkeys…she is her father’s child.

The rest of the weekend went on and things happened, but I’m going to guess that you’ve probably stopped reading now.  You looked at the post title, saw the picture, and then moved on.  The faithful few of you have probably even resorted to skimming.  It’s OK, I understand.  My wife is a better writer and you want to visit her site and see what cool musings she has.  Now go on, get out of here.  You crazy kids get off my lawn.

Butterfly will be four at the beginning of November.  Even though there is a vast age difference, she still feels empowered to make rules for our house.

A couple of weeks ago, Kelley cooked up some tacos for us.  The tacos managed to do to me the same thing that chili does.  We spent the rest of the evening changing rooms to avoid the smells that I left behind.  As bedtime neared, I worked with Butterfly to get ready for bed.  Realizing that there was no escaping my gassy wrath, she finnaly had enough.  “DADDY!  I’m making a rule.  No more pooting in my room.  Only pooting in the bathroom.  Now, you go in there if you need to poot.“  And so, a new rule was adopted.

Last night, I was getting Butterfly ready for bed when she escaped the confines of femininity just long enough to break the silence (and the wind).  I looked over at her with a weary eye and asked “Was that you making those noises.“  Apparently, this little girl is smart enough to realize where things were about to go.  She immediately began to adjust her rules. “Daddy, this is my room.  The new rule is that I can poot in my room, but you have to go to the bathrooml“  Such tyranny and injustice!  Why am I limited in my location?  I decided to force the issue, “If you can poot in your room, then I can poot in your room, too!“  In the wisdom that only soon-to-be-four-year-olds can understand, she gave me the basis for the rule. “No, daddy.  I just poot and make sounds.  You are stanky.”

Boy, this one gets more and more like her mama every day.

This past weekend, Queen Kelley loaded up the van and took Butterfly away on a mother-daughter trip in Tennessee.  While they lived the high life in a luxurious cabin with a couple of friends, Ladybug and I were left to fend for ourselves.  From about 10:00 on Friday morning until 6:30 Sunday evening, we had to lean on each other and find some way to survive.  It was a difficult, arduous task, but we somehow made it.  Here are a few of the lessons I learned:

• Kids can poop up to 350 times a day.
• They always do it when you’re in a store, museum, or something like that.  Even if you just changed them, they’ll do it again.
• Stores are good for shopping.  They’re also very good for allowing your kid to run around and get some energy out.  They can play with all the toys they want and when they’re tired, you just pick ‘em up and take ‘em home.  No clean-up required.
• Nap time is never long enough.
• Kids do the cutest things when no one else is around to see it.
• When you try to describe the cute thing, it never sounds quite as good.
• The person you’re describing it to probably doesn’t care, anyhow.
• I am getting old.  Ring-Around-The-Rosies is a wonderful game, but Daddy’s knees find it difficult to continue falling down….over, and over, and over, and over, and…
• Toys are good for entertainment in about 5-minute spurts.  If you want to keep a kid occupied for 30+ minutes, put ‘em on the bed and wrestle with them.  Oh, and watch-out for the whole “falling off” thing.
• Olives are a food group.  They should be sliced and eaten by wearing them on the tips of your fingers.  This way it’s a food and a fashion statement.
• Ladybug knows who her mother is and asked about her during the absence.  She only cried for her mother when I took away the shoe that she was eating.
• I am not capable of being a primary caregiver.  I love my girls and I devote a lot of attention to them, but my skills are in the realm of entertainment.  Health and Hygiene require too much work.
• There’s almost no way that I could handle 2 kids for an extended period of time.  I don’t know how my wife does it everyday.  I suspect drugs.

So there you go.  That’s why there was no post on Friday or this weekend.  I was busy devoting my time to the little 18-month old.  I suppose I could have let Ladybug play a little by herself, but this was my weekend to devote attention to her…and that’s exactly what I did.  Kelley claims that she’s now spoiled rotten.  That’s odd, she was a perfect little angel for me.

It’s nice to be recognized when you do good work, isn’t it?  Some people are great at doing work behind the scenes, but even they have to admit that it’s reqarding to be appreciated.

My appreciation was noted last night when Ladybug decided used her 18-month-old wisdom and deemed that I was worthy of being inducted into the alphabet.  During the middle of supper, she burst forth into song, and this is what transpired:

“Aye-Bee-See-Dee-Eee-Daddy…”

So there it is, folks.  I have officially become important enough to replace “F” and “G” in the alphabet.  Granted, those two letters don’t carry much weight, but still, I’m in the alphabet.  Not many of you can make that claim.

Last night Kelley and I attended the annual Summer Reflections at the Z.  Lance, as he does each year before school, showed a video with pictures and movie clips of the youth throughout the summer.  Meanwhile, our little girls played in their respective preschool classes.  Butterfly’s teacher was unable to attend, so Mr. Rickie filled-in.

Around 7:30, I went ahead upstairs to get the girls.  The video still had a way to go, but I’d eaten too many chicken nuggets and couldn’t stand to eat another one.  Upstairs, in the jungle themed room, Mr. Rickie sat in a small chair in the corner.  Butterfly and her best friend (we’ll call her Jitterbug…because it’s a cool name) were standing close to Rickie and jumping up and down.

“DO IT AGAIN!”  Shouted Jitterbug.  Butterfly ran over to me and said, “Daddy!  Watch what Mr. Rickie can do.”

So, Mr. Rickie place his hands together and magically, pulled his thumb apart.  (For the faint of heart, the magical instructions are here.)  Again, the girls jumped up-and-down excitedly.  Then Jittebug and Mr. Rickie had the following conversation:

“I wanna catch it!”
“No, you can’t have my thumb.”
“But I wanna hold it.”
“If I give you my thumb, you’ll drop it and you’ll lose it.”
“I won’t drop it, I promise!  I’ll hold on to it tight!”

Mr. Rickie later commented how he’d done that same trick six months ago and the girls could not have cared any less.  But today, this was the neatest thing they’d ever seen.  Unfortunately, though, in another six months, this trick will become boring again and Mr. Rickie will have to come up with new surprises…which I’m sure he will.

It’s neat to watch ‘em grow and learn and become so excited about the world around them.  A part of me wishes that they would remain this naive and innocent to the nastiness of society, but I know better.  What I do know is that the only way to combat the cruelness of world is with an unquenchable love for others and for their maker.  And there’s one true way to instill that in them.  It’s to hope beyond all hope that my girls turn out like their mama.

It’s interesting some of the things that you can store away in your brain.  My wife always looks at me weird when I spout out a proverb that fits into a discussion.  We’ll be talking about decisions and I’ll say “fish or cut bait”.  She’ll look at me and say “what?!”  It’s not my fault, really.  I blame Ms. Schwartz, my high school English teacher (all 4 years…plus 8th grade, too)  Every Friday was devoted to cramming in a bunch of stuff that required memorization.  Mythology, Proverbs, Idioms, vocabulary.  I liked it because it was kind of like story time…and I didn’t have to diagram any sentences.

So here I am, 16 years after the first time I walked into her class.  I was thinking about this past weekend and one of her phrases came to mind “comme il faut.”  (I always thought it was Latin, but the Googles tells me that it’s French.)  The phrase is roughly translated “as it should be” or “fitting.”  Allow me to explain:

Saturday morning  I woke up with a mission.  I needed to do some work on the house and I figured that I’d better get started first thing before the sun heated the roof up to 750 degrees (F or C - take your pick).  I walked outside and this amazingly cool breeze rushed through the air.  Some people would classify this as the beginning of fall.  My muscles tightened just a little because my bones could feel it…I could smell it…football weather.

After playing on the roof (and surprising myself at how well my project turned out), we piddled around with some music and then had lunch.  Kelley sprinted off to watch a movie, and I spent the next couple of hours entertaining my two biggest fans.  That evening, we went to visit Rickie and Sheri again.  The girls love the pool, but they really love Mr. Rickie and Ms. Sheri.  We were able to enjoy supper with them and play with some of their plastic fruit.  Sure, they have toys, but plastic grapes are hours of fun.  Mr. Rickie has made so much of an impression, that Ladybug will now run up to him with open arms when he’s approaching.  I got to sit back and watch her pick him out of the crowd on Sunday afternoon and run to play with him.  He didn’t seem to mind occupying her.

Sunday afternoon, I got to spend some alone time with Butterfly as she “helped” me set-up some sound equipment at our church.  While I was untangling cords and finding music stands, she sang into the microphone and played the piano for me.  After about an hour I was done, but Butterfly insisted that I play my guitar “like rock and roll” so that she could dance.  I obliged and then we headed home.  The only detour was to stop and get Butterfly her slushie…a treat that she spent more time playing with than eating.

So many little things were crammed into the weekend, but it was one of those that just hangs in the air…like the smell of popcorn drifting onto the gridiron on a cool friday evening.  Coming in to work this morning was a little tougher than normal.  I got an extra kiss from Ladybug and hugged Butterfly just a little tighter.  Weekends like this aren’t anything extraordinary.  It’s just plain ‘ole living…the way it should be.

Ladybug is a fast learner.  One of her favorite things to do is sing her favorite songs as she toddles through the house or rides in the car seat.  The words aren’t always perfect, but the mumble is distinct enough for us to figure out what she’s singing.  For instance, we’re regularly treated to the alphabet song that starts “Ay Bee See Dee Eff Eff Shee…”

Bedtime with Ladybug is my responsibility.  I don’t know how we came to this arrangement, but Kelley usually handles Butterfly with all of her lotions, book readings, and endless songs.  Each night, I take Ladybug and we begin our ritual.  Here’s how it goes

• we pick out a book, read the first three lines, Ladybug tires of book and squirms around to get down and get another
• repeat previous step a few times
• we find Elmo, turn off main light, and sit in rocking chair
• I sing a few favorites.  usually “bing back” (my bonnie lies over the ocean) and “ABC”
• I softly quieten down and rock Ladybug…she should be drifting off to sleep now
  
• Ladybug choose to have an impromptu anatomy lesson.  She points out my nose, beard, and mouth.  Then she says “tun”, and sticks her tongue out for me to see.  She grins because she knows I’m going to laugh at her.
• Now it’s time for Ladybug to sing.  She usually starts with “ABC” but usually mixes in “twinkle twinkle” with it just to make sure she gets enough in.
• The evening always ends with her own edition of “Happy Birthday to You”  In her case, almost all emphasis is removed from “happy birthday” and placed on “to you”.  In a low, barely audible voice, she sings “hap-pur” and then as loud as possible, belts out “CHOO YOO“.  over, and over, and over
• Eventually, the song dissolves from mumbles to grunts and then fades away altogether as Ladybug drifts off to sleep.

The bedtime ritual takes entirely too long, and I’m probably not doing her any favors by acclamating her to being rocked to sleep each night.  But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.  Each night, I look forward to learning where my nose is located and then being sung my repetitious birthday greeting.

I’m not very good with the guitar.  I know a lot of people who are much better than I am….but that doesn’t stop me from playing when I get a chance.  I am fortunate to have a wife that not only sings beautifully, but indulges my acoustic needs.

Last week, Kelley was asked to sing and was forced into using me as the background noise.  For those of you who are interested, I’ve attempted to upload the mp3 so that you can listen to it.  Here’s Kelley singing Remember Your Chains from Steven Curtis Chapman’s album Heaven in the Real World.  No reverb, retouching, or digital mastering.  Just a recording straight from a church soundboard.

Remember Your Chains (click it to hear it)

Should any representatives of Steven Curtis Chapman come across this page, I humbly request that you update your website with contact information.  The usage agreement on songs says to use the “contact page” to obtain permission, but there’s no link on the site, I couldn’t pull it up by fishing for the web page, and all of my e-mails came back as undeliverable.  So….um….I hope you’re not mad at me or anything.  If you are mad, I hereby volunteer to jam with Mr. Chapman.  I hope he can hang with me, though.

Sunday afternoons are a wonderful opportunity to be lazy. After a nice, warm lunch prepared by the loving folks at Zaxby’s, we headed to the house for some rest. Ladybug eventually drifted off to sleep while cuddling her milk cup. Kelley seized the opportunity to close her eyes for a few minutes. So that left Butterfly and me to occupy ourselves. Usually, the afternoon is “rest time” which involves a movie on the TV, a parent trying to drift off to sleep in the background, and Butterfly pouncing around on the couch pillows like a flea at….um….a place where fleas like to bounce. Since I knew she’d have all this energy, I asked her if she wanted to help me paint my car and this almost-four-year-old jumped at the chance. I gathered up the supplies and we prepared to make our mark on our vehicles.

For my birthday, Kelley got me this little science kit with balloon-powered cars. The intent wasn’t to purchase me a toy so much as it was to buy me some time with Butterfly. Boy, what a time we had. Apparently, painting plastic is a lot of fun. More importantly, though, painting your fingers is even more fun! Butterfly did an amazing job on her car. I think that she went for the “mosaic” look. Mine is just kind of plain-Jane. (no offense to any fun-loving Janes out there)

While we were painting, Butterfly told me “Daddy, mine is the most beautiful spaceship car ever!” And then, I think she felt a bit sorry for my poor attempt at art. So she added “But don’t worry, yours is too!” So here they are, folks, the most beautiful spaceship car ever and the other most beautiful spaceship car ever.

Yes, the wheels are missing on the front of Butterfly’s car.  It actually works a little better that way.

Yesterday was our anniverssary.  Last night was supposed to be our date night.  I put Ladybug to bed while Kelley handled Butterfly.  After mine was asleep, I snuck out to get us a nice dinner from Carrabbas.  After returning home, we both relaxed to enjoy the wonderful food and some good conversation.

That lasted all of 10 minutes.  Ladybug woke-up and was not happy.  Now’s decision time.  Do we let her “cry it out” in hopes that she’ll get herself back to sleep, or do we try to get her to calm back down quickly so that she can get back to sleep?  It’s always a tough decision…and I always make the wrong choice.

I marched upstairs, leaving behind the ever-so-tasty Pollo Rosa Maria, rescued Ladybug from the confines of her crib and rocked her back to sleep.  She woke up as I was doing the “transition” into the crib.  More crying.  More rocking.  More sleeping.  Another bad transition. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.

After a while, I gave up, put her in her crib and went back downstairs, tagged Kelley, and finished my meal.  After I was done, Kelley marched down the stairs with the echo on an unhappy Ladybug still ringing through the house.  This time, daddy couldn’t make her happy, so I took her downstairs.  The girl was WIRED.  I don’t know what Kelley feeds these girls when I’m not home, but 17 cups of sugar is not appropriate for a 16-month old kid.  She ran across the downstairs, said hello to the dark, moved toys around, read books (a page at a time in between the other things), and just had a blast.

Finally, around 10:30, signs of fatigue started showing.  It may have been because of all of the activity.  Most likely, it was because of the Benadryl that I gave her.  (Official Product Slogan:  It might work on allergies.  We don’t know because we’ve never used it for that.)  After a few more books, and demanding to hold a stuffed monkey, she drifted back off to sleep.

So our “date night” was spent trying to console a kid who really just wanted to run around the house and act like a loon.  I wonder where she gets that from…