Shallow Thinker

Apparently, you can genetically inherit smarts.  My sister got them from my grandfather and has used them wisely.  She pointed me to one of the coolest things to hit the internet since Zuper John first took flight.  Apparently, you can change your language settings on Facebook to “Pirate”.  Ahoy!

My grandfather (on my dad’s side) has been retired for as far back as I can remember.  But he’s always been busy.  I spent numerous summer days running around in his basement, avoiding the pieces of machinery that he used to make wooden projects or to repair miscellaneous items that he’d found along the road.  Not figuratively, literally.  Stuff right off the side of the road.  If it looked neat, he’d grab it.  He passed this trait on to my father.

Sometime in the mid-to-late 80’s, he purchased a good number of acres where he and my grandmother built a nice house and settled down.  Since that time, he’s been “building” a workshop to house all of his wood-working and yard equipment.  20 years to build a workshop?  Yep, he’s managed to stretch it out longer than you or I could.  This means that every once in a while, he’ll mosey outside and against his wife’s instructions, he’ll lift something that’s too heavy, put it in a place that’s too high, and then secure it using a piece of equipment that’s too powerful.  If he gets injured, he just waits a little longer before he tries to put the next piece in place.  If he is fortunate enough to avoid injury, he pressed on with his work until he finds that accident he’s been looking for.  He is as stubborn as an ox.  But he’s very happy.

A couple of months ago, my wife and I took our girls to see my grandparents.  The girls played with some of the same toys that I played with when I was their age.  While we were there, my grandfather proudly mentioned that his shop was nearly complete.  We slowly walked outside to the building that he has made block by block.  He smiled as he opened the door to his little piece of heaven.  Nuts, bolts, wood, machines, and miscellaneous parts filled every inch of available space.  But what made me smile bigger than anything else was his ability to think outside the box.  Outside the ice box, that is…

Yes, those are doors from an old refrigerator.  He’s bolted them to the wall to be his shelves.  I guess we know where I get my engineering skills.

Butterfly understands that her father loves her.  She’s not happy with everything that I tell her, but she knows that no matter what happens, I will always give her a hug and let her know that I love her.  Last night, as I was putting Ladybug to bed, Butterfly ran in and gave me a goodnight kiss and a hug.  It was comforting to know that she wanted to tell me goodnight.

Ladybug is still working on the concept.   On Sunday, she had to get into trouble for one of her many fiery fits.  She was not happy.  I was not happy.  Within minutes, she went from complete disdain to happily climbing on me as if nothing had happened.  She specifically asked for me after her nap and then clung to me for the rest of the day.  So, I’m thinking that maybe she is beginning to understand the concept.

This morning, I was carrying her down to get breakfast.  She was holding a fluffy Elmo toy that says “Elmo needs a hug!”  After some comfort, the toy sings a song and ends by saying “Elmo loves you SOOOooooOOOOOO much!”  Ladybug hugged Elmo even tighter and said “Love you too!”  It was such a sweet little scene.  Could it be that she is beginning to recognize and vocalize her feelings?

As I left for work, I gave Butterfly her hug and kiss and told her that I love her.  She reciprocated.  I moved around the table to Kelley, gave her a hug and kiss and told her I love her.  She reciprocated.  I went over to Ladybug and gave her a kiss on her soft cheek and told her that I love her.  Without hesitation, she gave me a cute smile and responded “I want more fruit.”  Yup, these are my girls.

Bed time can best be described by Charles Dickens as “the best of times…the worst of times.”  There’s a soothing peace that rests over our house as we read books to our girls or hold them close and sing in softened tones.  The gentility of the falling night is surpassed only by the sereneness of putting their tired, soft bodies into the bed.  On the other hand, there’s a violent eruption of anger as we chase Ladybug down to get her into her pajamas.  There’s strife and tension as we put lotion on Butterfly and brush both girls’ teeth.  One night can be so rough and nerve-wracking while another can be so soothing and restful.

Last night was both.  I stayed at church late for a meeting and came home just in time to help with bedtime. I climbed the stairs to find Butterfly sitting in her mother’s lap and being read a story.  Ladybug was wearing nothing but a diaper and went running by.  A soft, blonde blur caught the corner of my eye.  Almost immediately, she knew what was coming.  Without me even saying a word, she ran to a different room and yelled “No, Daddy.  No go bed!”  It went downhill from there.

Ladybug protested every step in our process.  “No change diaper!”  “No pajamas on me!”  “No want it, shirt on!”  I got her dressed, put her on the floor to finish her award-winning performance, and then sat on the floor.  Within 30 seconds, the crying had stopped and she was standing by my side with her head on my shoulder.  The demands of her way yielded a soft request, “Daddy sit rocking chair.  Read books?”

After the books were read and the lights were dimmed, I rocked Ladybug and sang various lullabyes (lullabies?) in varying keys (I’m such a good singer that one key cannot contain me...even in one song).  She rolled over in my lap so that she was facing me.  Gently, she leaned up and gave me a kiss on my cheek, and then relaxed her head on my chest.  The fury of her storm had given way to the melodic rhythm of the rocking chair.

Butterfly has been potty trained for a couple of years now.  But we’ve still had our problems.  Not with bladder control, but with her insistance that Mommy or Daddy help her go potty during the middle of the night.  We finally figured out a way to nip this thing in the bud.

One evening, I sat down with Butterfly and a 1/4 sheet of poster board.  I drew about 30 squares on it and in each square, I drew a simple picture of something that Butterfly wanted.  Flowers, Shoes, Ice Cream, the moon, a sweetgum ball.  She named it, I drew it.  This poster became our night-time potty chart.  Each night that passed where Butterfly went potty all by herself, she could color in one of the squares.  Her promise was that once all of the squares were colored in, we would have a special celebration.  The last square was colored in on Friday morning.

As a reward, I let Butterfly look over the chart and pick one of the pictures.  I told her that whichever she picked is what her reward would be.  I didn’t think that one through very well because I had a picture of a car and a picture of a house on there.  I don’t know what I would have done for the moon, either.  She was smart enough to avoid the sweetgum ball and eventually settled on ice cream.  So, our date was set!

Saturday morning we piddled at a few local stores and played with the retailer’s toys while it rained outside.  We ate lunch at home and the Ladybug went down for her nap with the promise that ice cream would be for everyone when she woke up.  The nap came and went and we headed out for our reward at Marble Slab.  What started as 40 degrees and rainy ended up at 60 degrees and sunny, the perfect weather for a treat.  Butterfly and I shared Birthday Cake ice cream with Reese’s peanut butter cup mixed in.  Kelley and Ladybug had Birthday Cake ice cream with Heath bar mixed in.  The only complaint came from Ladybug when the ice cream was gone.  She cried….I think Kelley did, too.

After the ice cream, we decided to spend some time at the Redneck Disneyland….Lowe’s.  The girls had a blast running around the store for almost an hour.  By the time we left, Kelley and I were struggling to stay standing.  The girls were sufficiently exercised and it was supper time.  We fed the girls, bathed ‘em, and then threw them in the bed.  In the quiet of the evening, Kelley and I enjoyed some Chinese takeout and a movie together.

Some weekends are a drain and leave you looking forward to the monotony of the week.  Saturday was one of those days that leaves me hoping that I never see the grinding wheel again.  But the grinding wheel pays much better than loafing does, so I guess I’ll head back to it.

A month or two ago, I started getting up at 6:00 to walk the dogs.  They needed the exercise and it seemed like a good time to do it.  The girls were still asleep, so I didn’t feel like I was stealing some of my time with them and it gave me a good start to the morning.  This weekend, though, it got cold.  It is tough to motivate myself to walk the furballs when it’s below 40.  I decided to keep waking up at 6:00, but to go on into the office and start on some work a little early.

Monday morning, my first attempt at this, I woke-up, showered, and snuck quietly downstairs.  I slowly packed my breakfast, lunch and numerous snacks to hold me over between meals.  As I was finishing and turning to walk out the door, I heard the gentle thud of small feet coming down the stairs.  Butterfly was awake, noticed the light on, and was coming down to greet the morning.  I really had planned on sneaking into work early and getting something accomplished before the weekly rush began.  I suppose I could fix her some food and sit until Mommy wakes up…

Monday morning turned out to be one of the bests mornings I’ve had in a while.  I shared breakfast with Butterfly and talked about her choice of subjects (Mulan, preschool, work, and what kind of dresses we like).   Her brain is always churning with ideas and possibilities…mostly of ways that she can have more treats or do more “fun things.”  Eventually, Ladybug beckoned Mommy and they found their way down the stairs.  I gathered up my share of hugs and kisses and went off to face the rest of the day.

I’m still getting up at 6:00.  And my intentions are still to get to work a little earlier.  But, each morning before I creep down the stairs, I peek into Butterfly’s room.  If she’s asleep, I leave her to finish her dreams.  If she’s awake, I invite her to come down and help me postpone the workday.  During that time, the dogs aren’t getting walked, the spreadsheets aren’t getting filled-out, and no projects are being managed.  But Daddy is enjoying the time with his little girl…who is growing up a little more every day.

How often does doing taxes make you realize how awesome your spouse is?  A couple of weekends ago, I spent a few hours in front of the computer feeding in numbers and categorizing receipts.  When the processor was sufficiently heated and the numbers were returned, I assessed the damage and compared the results from years past.  One thing became immediately clear to me.

My wife has a bigger heart than I do.  Our charitable donations were a big reason that our additional payment to the feds isn’t a lot more.  I’ll bet that you might be able to guess which of us is good about giving donations to worthy causes.  (Hint: I don’t even like to buy girl scout cookies.)  It’s pretty cool the way she does it.  A little here and a little there make up small amounts that we won’t ever notice is gone.  But, over the course of a year, it makes a decent impact.  I say that I care about causes, but it’s usually more of an emotion in the moment.  My wife actually cares for causes and is willing to sacrifice other things so that these groups may have.

I know that there are a lot of worthy causes and organizations in our world.  Realistically, we can’t contribute to all of them.  So, we’ve made a decision to focus our efforts on a few groups that we’re most passionate about.  Most of our giving goes to groups that deal with Childhood Cancer.  Cancer on its own is a beast.  When you combine that with the innocence of a child, its difficult to imagine the toll that it takes.

When my daughters are sick, I ache for them and wish that I could take on their illness so that they can run and play again.  I know that if either of them, or even my wife, were confined to a hospital bed for even a short time, I would be broken beyond recognition.  Yet these children, their parents, and their families constantly battle the sterile rooms, the painful tests, and the ravished bodies that come with this disease.  If our lifetime of contributions can reduce that feeling of helplessness by one day for just one family, it is worth it.

To Kelley, thank you for caring about these children and their families enough to contribute.  Please continue to give out of the abundance of your heart.  It wouldn’t hurt me to eat out a little less often, anyhow.

To those families who have had to deal with this, you have our prayers and sympathy.  I do not have the wisom or the courage to ask “why?”, but I am fortunate enough to ask “How can I help?”

To anyone else, I’ve provided a few links below that direct you to organizations that fight childhood cancer.  If, however, this isn’t for you, please find a cause where you can help others and give to it passionately.  Sometimes it’s not your money that makes the biggest impact, but your time.

http://www.curechildhoodcancer.org/
http://www.curekidscancer.com/
http://www.curesearch.org/

Valentine’s weekend came with a roar and left with a cough.  Queen Kelley and I were able to spend some quality time with Ladybug and Butterfly on Saturday.  We visited the Museum of Arts and Sciences (no hyperlink because I’m lazy today), and then had lunch at a little Chinese place.  The rest of the day was spent piddling around.  I like piddling.

For most of Saturday, Butterfly was getting over her cough….and Ladybug was picking it up.  On Sunday, they both seemed better.  I got to spoil them both for a while outside.  We colored with chalk, jumped on the trampoline, rode bikes, and frolicked about.  Ladybug’s cough started to be a little stronger in the evening and she got a little more clingy to her Mama.

On Monday, Ladybug wasn’t feeling so hot.  The thermometer confirmed a fever.  While Kelley ran a few errands, I got to some alone time with each girl.  The clubhouse in the living room was a big hit (a sheet stretched across some chairs.)  Butterfly and I had a tea party and then when Kelley swapped girls with me, Ladybug had fun messing-up the tea party.  Kelley ran Ladybug to the doctor (result: BIG shot…ouch!) while I cooked fajitas for the family and my mom.  As we tried to go to sleep, the coughing filled the monitor.  We were thinking that it would be a long night…

I hate it when we’re right.  Kelley didn’t get much sleep last night.  I tried to help out as much as I could, but I have this horrible ability to fall asleep no matter what.  I even took my turn holding Ladybug in the rocking chair so that she could sleep in my arms and Kelley could rest.  I don’t know who would move first, but both of us kept jerking awake, startling the other, and then nodding back off.  I kept (stupidly) thinking that she was sound asleep and would put her down in her crib.  About 15 minutes later, the hacking cough would return and cause her to wake-up.  In turn, the very caring and very loving Kelley would wake up too.  But not me because I have this ability to….wait.  Haven’t we already covered this?

So there you go.  The lack of posts over the past few days can be attributed to business, famliness, and sickliness.  Here’s to hoping that Ladybug gets some rest so that she can get well.  And to hoping that Kelley gets some rest so that she can get some rest.  And to hoping the my Mom can get a little rest from Butterfly because that girl is absorbing as much of her GG as she can get.  I’m fine and dandy because I came to work to get some rest.

This morning, I was put in charge of ironing Butterfly’s skirt.  There are two reasons for this.  (1) I’m slightly OCD, so Kelley’s knows that I’ll be very meticulous when ironing and (2) Kelley doesn’t do ironing.  The second one probably had the biggest impact on how I ended up in front of the narrow table with the hot iron.

As I pressed the metal to the delicate cloth, Butterfly played on the floor and started singing a song.  I didn’t recognize it, so I asked her where it came from.  I wasn’t surprised to hear that it’s a part of a Disney movie.  This one in particular was “The Hunchback of Notre Dame.”  She told me about how much Quasimodo wanted to be a part of the festival and then he sang the song that she was singing to me.  I though that this would be a good opportunity to dispense some social wisdom.

“You know, Quasimodo didn’t look very pretty, but he was nice, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah, he liked Esmerelda!”
“We should remember that even though people look different than us, it is important to give them a chance to see how nice they can be.”  (This was my lesson to her.  See how I did that?)
“Hey, Daddy….They put Quasimodo in chains and tried to get Esmerelda, but Quasimodo broke the chains and saved her!”
“Oh.  So Quasimodo was strong and nice.” (I was trying to reinforce my point.)
“Yeah, Daddy.  He was very strong and very nice.  Just like you!”

I have to admit that I was flattered.  Of course, we didn’t discuss wether or not the disfigurement applied to me, but I think that being very strong and very nice would more than make up for the fact if it did.

Yesterday morning I was late to work.  I usually try to walk in the front doors around 8:00.  On the few occasions when I overachieve, I get in around 7:45.  If the day started slow, it will be closer to 8:15.  Yesterday, however, was a 9:30 morning.  Normally, I would be a bit peeved by this, but yesterday, I couldn’t have been happier.

At 8:30, Butterfly and I arrived for Donuts with Dad at her preschool.  We walked into the large room and saw numerous other dads scattered between the tables that had been set-up.  First, we chatted with one of Butterfly’s friends from church and then we found her teacher and our assigned seats.  Butterfly proudly displayed the crafts that she had made for me and instructed me to wear my name tag.  I didn’t have my name, but referred to me as her father.  (I’m OK with that.)

The excitement was too much to bear and Butterfly declared that we should go get our donuts.  We both selected the standard glazed and got our small cups of orange juice.  As we ate, I got to speak with a few of the other fathers from her class in between Butterfly’s stories about class and crafts.  When we finished our donuts, we still had a few minutes before her class began.  Butterfly came up with a wonderful way to fill the time.  “Hey, I know.  We could get another donut!”  My mind threw up several stop signs:  I’m watching what I eat, she doesn’t need too much sugar…  Five minutes later she was overjoyed to be sharing a donut with her father, and I was very happy to be sharing one with her.

We cleaned up, gathered my gifts that she worked on for the past several weeks, and headed to her classroom.  I was fortunate enough to find Kelley walking in with Ladybug.  Ladybug ran to me and gave me a hug and let me excort her to her classroom.  I say “escort” because she wouldn’t let me hold her.  She demanded to pull her little school bag and walk in all by herself.  As I left her room, I asked for a kiss and she puckered her little lips.

The clock said 9:00…time for them to spread their wings.  More difficult for me, though, was that it was time for me to let them. Most mornings, I drive to work formulating a plan on how to attack the workload before me, listening to the news, checking my incoming messages, and jsut doing stuff to be efficient with my time.  Yesterday, I drove in the silence, wishing that I wouldn’t have to taint the purity of the morning with the dirtiness of the day.

Sunday night, Kelley and Butterfly fluttered off to their respective choir practices while Ladybug and I stayed home.  We played with barbies and trains (football was on in the background, of course) and had ourselves an excellent time.  It just so happened that this evening would also serve as bath night.  Normally, we chunk both girls into the tub, tell them to stop splashing, put soap in their eyes, rinse them while they’re screaming, and pull them out right as they’re getting used to it.  In my fatherly wisdom, however, I decided that our evening alone would afford Ladybug some time to enjoy the tub all to herself.  And she did.

I got the water temperature and level perfect.  Ladybug sat down and immediately began playing with the toys and enjoying herself.  I went ahead and bathed her and washed her hair.  Then, I put in some clean water and decided to let her play for a few minutes to enjoy the toys without her big sister.  She was doing well, so I decided to prepare the bedrooms for bedtime.  You’re not supposed to leave your child unattended in the tub, and I’m over-protective.  These combined caused me to run, throw the pillows on the bed, and come back to check.  Run, pull the pajamas out, come back to check.  One thing, check, one more thing, check….

At one point in my checking, Ladybug was looking at me with a sly grin.  I asked “What are you doing?”  She proudly responded “Tee tee in bathtub!”  I gave her a playful scolding: “Don’t you go tee tee in my bathtub!”  She grinned.  We both knew that she’d already done it.  (And let’s be honest, who hasn’t.  From time to time, I still…..er…um….let’s get back to the story.)  I finished prepping the rooms and went to rinse the fresh tee-tee off the girl and get her out.  As I looked into the tub, something was awry.  One of these toys was not here when we started.  I stood her up and looked down.

“Did you go poo-poo in my bathtub?!”
“Ew gross.  Daddy clean it.”
“You went poo-poo in my bathtub!”
“Daddy clean it.  Ewwwww gross.”

I hosed her down with the sprayer and took her into the room for pajamas.  After that, I put her down so that I could remove the evidence of her past meals from the tub.  The whole time she kept smiling from ear-to-ear and repeating “EW, GROSS!  daddy clean it.”  If she weren’t so cute, I’d have to get rid of her.

It doesn’t matter how old you get, Play-Doh is fun and soothing.  When I’m elected president, I think I’ll institute a mandatory Play-Doh Time to relieve stress and promote creativity.