Father Of The Blog

Each Tuesday during April, Olivia, Hailey and I attended a ‘Mommy and Me’ class at our school district’s early childhood center. Yoga Animal Antics. Too young for the class, Elizabeth Rose sat this one out and luckily my mom was available to watch her.

Each class started off with an animal search and rescue operation. The kids blindly pulled a picture of a missing stuffed animal out of a box and then became responsible for rescuing that “lost” animal.  Once all the hidden animals had been found, the class circled-up for songs, introductions and animal education. All the kids got the green light to go wild mimicking sounds and movements of the animals that they had recovered.

It was then time to do animal impersonations by means of yoga stretches. Each child picked a card that showed an animal and how imitate that animal with a yoga pose. Everyone got a turn leading the class with his or her pose. Cat stretches, down dogs, crab walks and fluttering butterflies, to name a few. The best part of this activity was right at the end, the instructor handed out mini rubber ducks, the kind used for duck races and then we were instructed to lie on our backs and place the duck on our tummies. We had to make the duck go up and down by breathing deeply. Ok, so we were doing shavasan and within seconds of placing the little duck race duck on my stomach I would momentarily fall asleep.

Any parent child class would not be complete without a craft activity and this class was no different. The motif of craft time was wild animals and the favorite had to have been “pigs in the mud,” a couple little people farm pigs tracking chocolate pudding over butcher paper. The class ended with a parachute games and lastly a goodbye song.

I enjoy these classes because, it is less planning for me on daddy days, it is good to get out of the house (before the kiddos destroy it) and we usually learn something new. Olivia, Hailey and I have frequented many of these ‘Mommy and Me’ classes in the past and always have a good experience in doing so. But there is one thing missing from these kinds of classes; the dads. Four years of parent child classes that we have been to only one other dad has been in attendance and he showed with his wife. Note that those were classes during week days.

These parent and child interaction classes aren’t called “Mommy and Me” anymore.  A step in the right direction for a dad who likes to attend such classes and wishes not to feel ostracized by a motley group of alpha mommies. It is hard enough breaking the ice to a room full of glaring women that are wondering what a man is doing with his children in the middle of the work week at mid day committed to a parent child class. Most of the moms are welcoming and warm to the idea of an involved dad in their mist. But there is inevitably a small percent of leery women believing their must be an arterial motive to my presence and these are the ladies that exude the air of exclusion. I don’t let them detour me.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 02/03/08

Elizabeth Rose is three weeks old and has colic. She cries, she fusses and she fidgets. She has the quiver lip, a gaping mouth howl and an ear splitting screech.  Her body stiffens, her legs thrash, and her arms riffle. She is having a fit in my lap right now. Three to four hours of screaming a day which is about half of her waking hours keeps Kim and I rabid, barking at each other over trivial stuff.

On the flip side, Elizabeth Rose is the sweetest, cuddliest, cooiest, already saying “da” iest, little bundle of amazement. She makes heart-warming smiles and has the cutest most perfect spiral of life belly button. She is observant, intensely she focuses on the multi textured brightly colored C-shaped link together toy things that I rattle in front of her. Today while in her hand-me-down portable swing, she clutched and pulled down those same linky-chains that Olivia had draped around the top of the swing.

Kim and I have different styles to deal with the crying bouts. Kim gingerly scoops-up Elizabeth Rose tenderly swinging, swaying, lightly bouncing, digging a path throughout the house while shush, shush, shushing her. Kim will change Elizabeth Rose’s position, pat her, rub her, sing to her, and hum to her. Kim exhausts every effort for hours at a time attempting to sooth Elizabeth Rose.

My approach is more of a cave-man style. When Elizabeth Rose’s high-pitched noises start to emanate I will grab her and check her basic needs. Sniff first then look in the diaper and take action if necessary. I’ll ask Kim when the last time she was fed and take care of that if need be. I’ll try the Boppy Sling and occasionally that will suffice. I’ll carry her around the house football style. But I can only take fifteen to twenty minutes before I give in and lay her in her crib and let her cry herself to sleep or until an hour or so passes and Kim will eventually pick her up and run through all of her bag of tricks.

Kim and I are cagey colic veterans. Hailey, once known as Hailey Wailiey, had colic invetro. Yes, I know that’s not possible, but that’s what I tell everyone. It did seem like from the moment Hailey was born she started crying and didn’t stop until she was six months old. From six months until two years of age Hailey was super sensitive and a read-every-parental-guidance-self-help-book-from-the-library challenge. She still has irritability issues, for instance the stitching on her socks must be lined up just right, if not she will get upset, yell at anyone within earshot, peel the sock or socks off, refuse assistance and is irate until she gets the socks on just the way she likes. If I attempt to help, I must quickly dodge a flying shoe or shoes. I have a saying that I have been drilling into her head for a long time to counter her irrational sock-hops, “Hailey, Sweetie, there are lots of little bumps in life. You need to get used to those little bumps.” I have come to realize that control is her motivation for the majority of her out-busts at this point in her life.

Elizabeth Rose cry’s hard, but her colic pales in comparison to Hailey’s six month long scream-feast. In fact, Kim was so shell-shocked by Hailey’s everlasting emotional storm, it took me over two years to convince Kim that it would be impossible to bear two children with colic. There goes my credibility.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 01/25/08
The ride to Olivia and Hailey’s Preschool takes two minutes. In that short amount of time we have our best discussions. Every school day morning we hustle out the door and to my car. I strap ‘em in their seat belts, unwrap then handout chewy granola bars, I get in, pull out of the driveway and I say, “Does anyone have any questions for daddy today?”
Before I finish asking the question, preemptively Hailey will say, “I gotta go potty!”
Olivia will quickly correct her younger sister, “that’s not a question Hailey!”
A brief silence follows and then Olivia will throw the first question out.
 
Monday morning:
Olivia: “Are you going to die daddy?”
Me: “One day Honey, nobody lives forever.” Small pause. “Well sweetie, that’s what life is. You live and then you die.” Silence. “Everyone, everything, eventually expires.”
Olivia: “Where will you go daddy?”
Me: “We all go back to God Honey and we will be with all our relatives who have passed away.”
Hailey, with a hint of worry: “Don’t go Daddy.”
Me: “Don’t worry Kiddos, hopefully, daddy will be around for a long time”
Olivia: “When is our new playground (for the preschool) going to be finished Daddy?” She inquired as we drove by the construction site and pulled into the parking lot of their school.
 
Wednesday Morning: (Tuesday is daddy day, no school).
Olivia: “Is Father Sky the same as god?”
This was a tricky one and I didn’t think two minutes was enough time to explain the theory’s of First People’s (Native American) beliefs. “Sort of Sweetie.”
Olivia: “What about Mother Earth?” I tell Olivia and Hailey a handful of times throughout the day not to waste Mother Earth’s precious resources. Switch the lights off, don’t let the water run, recycle, those sorts of things.
Me: “Well Honey, God created Mother Earth.”
Olivia: “And Father Sky too?”
Me: “Yes Sweetie, God created everything in the universe”
Olivia: “What’s the Universe?”
Me: “It is everything we know honey. All the stars, our sun, the planets, the Earth, everything.”
Olivia: “Everything?”
Me: “Yup. Everything.” Momentary pause. “Hey look, the diggers are all lined up in a row today.”
 
Thursday morning:
Olivia: “When are we going to the Hairy Elephant with Aunt Marni?” Marni is a friend of Kim’s and the Hairy Elephant is a kids’ salon. When Marni came to visit Kim in the hospital during her recovery from the birth of Elizabeth Rose, Marni had told Kim that she would take Olivia and Hailey to get their hair and nails done. This promise was sparked due to a missed birthday party at a different kids’ salon because Olivia had chicken pox. The salon date with Marni was supposed to be this past weekend and she had to cancel the hair and nail appointment.  Rewind one week, Tony, Marni’s husband had switched jobs and the company he was hired on too lost its two biggest clients on Tony’s first day of work. They had to let Tony go. Financially concerned, Marni opted for a play date at her house with her two boys Spenser and Tyler.
Me: “Well Sweetie, you and Hailey went to Marni’s house to play with Spenser and Tyler instead of going to the Hairy Elephant.”
Olivia: “But I wanted to go to the Hairy Elephant.”
Me: “Marni had to cancel the appointment Honey.” Silence. “Well sweetie, Uncle Tony lost his job and now they don’t have money.” Quiet. “They have to be able to buy food and pay for their house and pay for heat to stay warm.” Olivia has been drilled on the economics of why Kim and I have to work.
Olivia: “I will give Aunt Marni my Tzedakah” Tzedakah is charity. Olivia and Hailey put spare change into their own hand painted Tzedakah boxes as part of our traditional Friday night Shabbat dinner. Just last week we noticed how heavy the Tzedakah boxes were getting and had discussed what charities were worth giving too.
Hailey:  “I will give my Tzedakah to Tyler”
Me: “That is a great idea Kiddos, you guys are so thoughtful,” I was so proud of them and their idea, I wanted to go on and on and tell them what caring, sweet and compassionate little girls they are, but instead, “Hey look, the diggers are still lined up.”
 
The two minute drive to preschool is the most anticipated part of my day. What will tomorrow’s conversation be? I’m not sure, but I am looking forward to it.

Stay at home dad this past Tuesday with Olivia, Hailey and Elizabeth Rose lesson learned:
Setting up the tone, “Daddy Days Are Here Again” to the song “Happy Days Are Here Again.”  Olivia has a superb new addition to her morning routine, journaling. From the kitchen table she sketches in a spiral bound Strawberry Shortcake branded notebook, supplying me with a brief dictation of the journal entry, currently a narrative mermaid epic, I hastily inscribe a sentence or two. She enjoys creating pictures and appreciates the short bit of time we spend discussing the drawings on a mature level that Hailey either understands and is uninterested or she doesn’t yet comprehend the abstraction. Hailey’s Care Bear note book occasionally gets used and she will scrawl prolific ‘scribble scrabble’ a dub from her big sister. The scribble scrabble is fresh and expressive. I write copy pertaining to Hailey’s Star, or Snakes, or Fish, or Whales and once I received no expletive, instead artistic silence.

During a breakfast of bagels and cream cheese we discussed the dreary rainy morning. I suggested we go to our community center to make use of the dues we pay and visit the indoor pool. Hailey jumped on the idea and Olivia half heartedly agreed. Free swim wasn’t until noon, so after cleaning up from meal number one of the day, Elizabeth Rose ended up in her crib for nap number one of the day, then it was game time. Hungry Hungry Hippos, Fishing Around, Little (or Littlest) Pet Shop, Hi Ho Cherry O’, Melisa and Doug’s Magnetic Dress Up Princess, honestly, I opted-out on that last one, preparing three backpacks for the pool instead.

At noon the clouds had blown over and the spring sun worked to burn off the dampness. I was feeding Elizabeth Rose bottle number two of the day and Olivia and Hailey were finishing up meal number three of the day. (They snacked on granola shortly after breakfast).  Anticipating our departure for the pool, they were bouncing all over the place, so I sent them to their room to prepare for swimming. Elizabeth Rose had me temporarily immobilized which meant I had to verbally remind them that if they wanted to go to the pool they needed to, “put on swimsuits and get dressed. Socks and Crocks.” Fifteen minutes later, Elizabeth Rose belched out a deep baritone that a horn three times her size would not be able to register. All the little ducky’s in a row and we were out the door.

Twenty minutes later, Olivia and Hailey are disrobing in the locker room.
Me: “Hailey? Did you forget to put your swimsuit on?” She had stripped down to her Hello Kitty’s.
Hailey: Silent.
Me: “Olivia?” She had one arm out of her jacket. “Did you put your swim suit on?”
Olivia: “Ohhh… Daaadeee…”
Hailey: “Daddy! You got my swimsuit?!”
Me: “No Hailey. I don’t”
Hailey: “You put them in my bag!? [backpack]”
Olivia: “Ohhh…Daaadeee!”
Both Olivia and Hailey: “You packed the bag!” I usually stuff my green gym bag with all our swim gear, this time I chose to force them to be a bit more responsible and self sufficient, relying on their back packs. Truthfully, I needed one more hand and one less encumbrance while shuffling Elizabeth Rose around.

Hailey’s distress could be heard throughout the lock room. So close to the pool, the chlorine vapors wafted in, to mix with her cries. I reasoned her out of the emotional furry relatively swiftly by telling her that I knew she wanted to go swimming and that I understood her dissatisfaction. I was on the verge of promising that we could swiftly retrieve their suits and return faster than superman spinning the earth backwards. But I didn’t
Hailey: “We coming back Daddy?”
Me: “No Hailey. We will miss swim.” Hailey did not like my answer and started breaking down again.
Me: “We can do something else” I wasn’t sure what. Pause.
Olivia: “The park?”
Me: “Yes! good idea Sweetie” I had a hunch she may have wanted this. She made a reference to the park during meal number one.
Hailey: “I want to go swimming!”
Me: “Hailey. We can’t do a thing hanging around in this locker room.” That reasoned with her just enough.
Olivia: “C’mon Hailey, we can go to the park. Daddy said.” One of Olivia strengths is in helping her own cause. I was eager to ally and the timing was brilliant.
Me: “What park Hailey?”
Hailey: “I want to go swimming!”
Me: “Well Honey, we have to get to the car before we can do anything, please get dressed, we will talk about it on the way to the car.”
It took Hailey a few minutes to collect herself; Olivia, Elizabeth and I were patient. We slowly made our way out of the building, a preschooler’s walk of shame, across the parking lot to my vehicle and in that time Hailey had agreed with the change in plans.

The park consumed the remainder of the afternoon. Elizabeth Rose napped (number three if you count the ten minute car ride to the park), tucked in the Bjorn. Hailey forgot about swimming as soon as her feet hit the spongy play surface running wild filling her body with fresh spring air. Olivia made friends with a couple of kids in the sand pit, coordinating a dinosaur bone excavation. Obviously those are merely the highlights. They played hard for a good three hours.

Disappointments are tough to sort through especially when under fire. What if I had caved to Hailey’s demands by bending to the will of my children? Would I have been a hero, (retrieving the forgotten swimsuits), rescuing them from misfortune? Or would I be enabling irresponsibility? Explaining to Kim the missed swim opportunity situation at the dinner table that night both Olivia and Hailey (meal number five) said they forgot to put their suits on.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 09/27/07 

Kim’s Tree
Kim’s origins are rooted in Houston, her whole family lives there, except for Nana (Kim’s mom). Over due by three years for a visit, Cousin Morgan’s high school graduation was as good as any reason for us to fly down and check in on the family.

Kim booked five non-stop round trip tickets on southwest airlines for herself, Olivia, Hailey, Nana, me and thirteen pieces of luggage. Everything about the flight went smoothly, a quick take-off, hardly any turbulence and a flawless landing. It was Hailey’s first time on an airplane and she belted out a big “whoaaaa” during take off. The kiddos quietly occupied themselves by watching movies on my laptop, munching endlessly on a feed-bag of junk and crafting cards for all their relatives.

Olivia’s Carbon Footprint on Hailey
Departing from our airport at the curbside check Olivia held Hailey back from exploring into the five minute passenger drop off avenue, which is ridiculously close to the security kiosk, while Kim, Nana and I dug out our ID’s and e-conformations. Olivia involuntarily buddied-up with Hailey and they strode through the airport hand in hand on the way to the gate, rolling back packs in tow. At the security check, Olivia made sure Hailey took her shoes off, showed her how to place all her belonging in the plastic container and then how to send it through the scanner. She had Hailey line up for the metal detector and told her to go one at a time. One might think that Olivia has traveled via airplane a hundred plus times seeing her instructive behavior while jumping through all the hoops at the airport. The truth is, she has been on an airplane only two other times; recently to Utah with me for a ski trip and on our last family trip to Texas when she was ten months old.

Hailey has an adaptive learning style, partly kinesthetic and mostly visual. Sure, she has learned a few important rules from mom, dad and from an assortment of caregivers. Predominantly she parrots her older sister. For instance, at around eighteen months old, following Olivia’s lead, Hailey started using the potty. She didn’t hear one bit of direction on the finer points of using the potty from Kim nor me. She refused the training bucket thing, she wanted to be like her sister and use the Dora training seat on the ‘big’ toilet. She wouldn’t accept any help getting on the ‘big’ toilet, climbing on herself, even if it took her two or three attempts. And recently, through Olivia’s example; Hailey has ditched wearing night time pull-ups, refusing to put them on anymore. She is not even three, she can’t hold it throughout the night and she is unable to wake herself to use the potty. We try to rouse her before we go to sleep but she will not get out of bed. So, what do we do? You guessed it, we let her sleep in her own urine or until she calls for mommy or daddy to dry her off at three in the morning. Ok, that only happened once, then we bought a mattress pad and a plastic liner.

Houston Hobby
While Kim, Nana and I claimed our tower constructed from suitcases, Olivia showed Hailey how to sit on top of the luggage carousel and ride from one end of the baggage claim area to the other. Olivia helped Hailey on her inaugural journey via airplane without a fight and with little guidance from the adults. Is Olivia a good teacher or does she like to control Hailey? I’m not sure, but Hailey enjoys big sister’s constant instruction, care and attention.

Thirteen suitcases teetering high on a bag-cart slightly impaired my vision. Relying on sound recognition I blindly followed our entourage through Houston Hobby, squeezing by groups of people, through entryways, corridors and elevator doors, praying for the luggage not to topple.

We made it to the car rental shuttle depot without incident, the luggage held, next time I will pack a bungee cord to secure the bags to the cart. The shuttled bus snaked through the airport’s access roads as Olivia and Hailey bounced from seat to seat. A light drizzle started coming down as the shuttle pulled up to a light blue van. I had requested a Grand Caravan with two built-in five-point-harness child restraints, which was offered at no extra charge. I opened the van’s sliding door to find a standard bench seat, thanks Budget, not to worry I came prepared and quickly procured two booster seats, one from large rolling duffel and the other from my hockey bag. Thankfully the van had latch and with a snap we were sheltered from the rain and on our way to Aunt Linda’s and Uncle Earl Lee’s.

Day I
Aunt Linda and Uncle Earl Lee live in a gated community. Their home is condo-esque, with neighboring houses tightly squeezed together. The great thing about staying with Aunt Linda and Uncle Earle Lee is that they own the house directly across the quiet cul-de-sac from their home. So, we get our own place to spread out and enjoy.

After ‘moving in’ we were able to enjoy the rest of the day. Cousin Morgan brought us lunch and she played with the kiddos for a few hours. The isolated misting had blown over and the sun came out in time for us to check out the neighborhood pool until dinner. It was a long day, no naps, we tried to get the girls in bed early, eight o’clock, however there was a bit of confusion on exactly where Olivia and Hailey were going to sleep. First we tried the loft. They weren’t comfortable up there. I moved both their twin mattresses down to the living-room where they discovered that the loft was much better. Back up the stairs I obediently followed carrying both mattresses. We planned on a short story-time which ended-up running ten books long (every book they brought with them) and then they jumped from one mattress to the other for over an hour before finally crashing out after ten.

Day II
Grandpa
This is a tough subject. What do you say about the person who calls his daughter the day before her wedding to say that he can’t make it? Someone who has two granddaughters that he has not once come to visit. I could go on with a dirty laundry list but I must refrain. I don’t know the historic details between Grandpa and Nana (Kim’s mom), I’m sure it wasn’t pretty. I try not to pry, although when Kim was pregnant with Olivia, I attempted to dig a bit; Kim and I were looking through Nana’s dusty photo albums. The early 70’s pictures of Nana are out of character. Usually fun-loving and out-going these set of pictures represent a gloomy person. I questioned Kim about one particular unsmiling photo of Nana; pregnant with Kim, Nana’s arm loosely wrapped around Kim’s dad, the only photo I’ve seen of Nana and Grandpa together. Kim’s explanation, Nana was embarrassed by her adult braces.

Our first full day in Houston we had plans with grandpa, (minus Nana). I am cordial, respectful and optimistic when we are with Kim’s father. Warning flip-flop alert: He is actually an interesting person to hang around with. He’s comical, opinionated, a conversationalist, with a hint of chauvinism. He could be the perfect drinking or golfing buddy. He and his current girlfriend Helen took us to NASA’s Johnson Space Center. It was my idea. I’ve been to Houston one too many times without seeing what was to be the vehicle of Apollo 18, the Saturn V Rocket.

Space Center Houston
Space Center Houston is the visitors’ center at JSC and has a vibe of something between a spaceport hangar / mission control / science center. We were greeted by a massive floor to ceiling at least thirty feet tall play structure. ‘Kids Space Place’ enticed Olivia and Hailey, they spent close to an hour exploring the multilevel kid sized habit trail. They stopped at an air gun trench to launch plastic balls at unknown yet shocked and awed adversaries. They tested and re-tested a robotic arm controller several dozen times, and the three-story triple-cork-screw slide was so tempting Kim had to try it.

Next we checked out “Grossology” a (possibly traveling) hands-on exhibit trumpeting all that is slimy, stinky, and yucky. An interactive jeopardy-parodied quiz show was enlightening. Plenty of nasty bug stuff to examine. The cow intestinal tracking system was a bit too much information. It was the kind of stuff that makes a great conversation base with the kiddos.

We spent another hour hopping through the half dozen galleries of space related exhibits and then our little ladies became viciously hungry. Grandpa suggested a short ride down the road to Kemah Boardwalk a seaside amusement area with a couple good places to get lunch. Everyone was on board with that, however in that instant my dream of seeing the Saturn V disintegrated. So close and denied… Insert; ‘story of my life’ here.

Kemah Boardwalk
The kiddos hurried through lunch which was not much of a break for anyone then we headed to the funfair area. Olivia and Hailey experienced their first Farris Wheel ride and it was unbelievable. Labeled ‘Century Wheel’ although I don’t think it was 100 feet tall, the scene overlooked Clear Lake Shores off Galveston Bay. Olivia, Hailey and I were the only ones who opted to ride the wheel. It stopped at the top for a moment, the basket swayed with the wind and Olivia asked “Is that the Ocean down there?” How could I tell her it wasn’t?

Pump It Up
The day was far from over. We had bummed around the boardwalk for a little longer then took Grandpa and Helen home. Cousin Morgan reserved a free, hour long, private room for us at the Pump It Up where she was employed. They climbed, slid, jumped, and jousted non-stop for the entire hour. We like the bouncy type places and even I get into the action. Cousin Mikey challenged, eluded and embarrassed me on the mushroom topped jousting platform. The day was another action packed, no nap, up till ten o’clock night. I think Kim and I were asleep before the kiddos.

Day III
The Toy Donkey Whisperer(s)
Not a toy donkey, a miniature donkey, a real one. Kim’s cousin Karen owns one and a horse with a bit of land too. Our whirlwind tour of the Texas family continued with a visit to Karen’s place. Uncle Earl Lee and Cousin Morgan (Earl Lee is Morgan’s grandfather) came along with us. Olivia and Hailey have ridden on small carnival horses a couple times at local fairs so they were merely semi-excited to ride the miniature donkey. Although once we got to the stable and acquainted with the animals they livened-up.

Olivia and Hailey felt comfortable on the miniature donkey named ‘Itty Bitty Banker’ but both didn’t like being on the fully grown equine. I can’t blame them. The beast was huge and a bit ornery. I was glad that Uncle Earl Lee and Cousin Morgan were close-by to assist when the kiddos took their brief turns ‘riding’ the steed.

A cool swift moving rain shower passed over stranding us in the stable for a while. Itty Bitty Banker received the brushing of its life from Olivia and Hailey. They petted, preened and fussed over the mini donkey until a break in the rain gave us time to dash back to Karen’s office where we had parked. Itty Bitty Banker tailed Olivia and Hailey almost the whole length of the field and seemed sadden by the departure of its new friends.

Day IV
Graduation
Cousin Morgan’s high school class was close to five hundred students and she was selected by her peers to lead the state anthem during the opening ceremonies. The graduation proceeded swiftly, only two hours long, which was way past the kiddos stay in one place for too long limit. But they kept themselves busy by visiting all their relatives, first Chris and his wife Glenda, jumping to cousin Rob and his wife Lori, skipping to aunt Linda and uncle Earl Lee, bouncing to cousins Sherri and Michael (Morgan’s mom and dad), plowing through to cousin Karen and her mother Ann, bounding over to Nana and sneaking up on cousin Mikey.

After the graduation we all met for lunch. The restaurant we met at was a cross between petting zoo / play ground / eatery and it was fun. After our meal we went outside to play, pet the animals and see the peacocks (Hailey’s favorite animal). As soon as we settled into a huge sandbox it started to pour down rain. The sand pit was situated under a pavilion so we weren’t getting wet, but once again, we were stranded out in the rain. Sure the restaurant was a twenty yard dash away but we were dry and the kiddos were content with the situation so I put my arm around Kim and we waited it out.

That evening Morgan and her immediate family had one thousand parties to attend. We all went our separate ways for the night. Nana went to visit some old friends. Kim, the kiddos and I met-up with Grandpa, Helen and her youngest college aged daughter at the local Chucky Cheese for an evening of instant gratification.

Day V
Party
Cousin Morgan had a Family and Friends Graduation Party the following day and it was great visiting with everyone. Michael and Sheri opened up their home, providing yummy edibles. The family congregated out in the garage reminiscing, updating and gossiping about things I can’t pen. Olivia and Hailey nursed blue frosting cup cakes all party long leaving blue kiss marks on anyone willing to receive one.

Departure
It was sad to go, especially since we had to leave the party in its prime to catch our flight home. Morgan got upset when it was time to say goodbye to her little side kicks and I couldn’t thank uncle Earl Lee and aunt Linda enough for their gracious hospitality all while Kim sabotaged our tightly scheduled itinerary by lingering several ‘one last’ goodbyes to everyone.

Where was Nana? She stayed in bed sick at aunt Linda’s that day. Possibly a nasty stomach virus, she flew home the next day and didn’t feel well for a week after.

Vacation Termination
The ride to the airport rental car return depot was rainy and somber. The airport was surprisingly crowded but the kiddos didn’t act antsy. Olivia reminded Hailey to touch the outside of the plane near the entry hatch for good luck as we boarded. The typically bumpy ride back home from Houston was smooth.

Bubie (my mom) picked us up from the airport and was surprised by Nana’s absence. We were home and unpacked within an hour of touchdown. Olivia and Hailey were beat-up, speaking in tongues, spastically jabbing fists and feet at anything within a two foot radius, struggling to keep moving. No nap and insufficient sleep for five days, it was like watching the terminator in its final hour.

Our Little Secret
Is this a coincidence; our last three trips to Texas Kim has been (and currently is) pregnant? Kim and I sat on this secret the entire trip. Kim did an ept test the day before we left, she was one week late. A faded blue line appeared. She called her doctor to make an appointment which obviously she couldn’t see him until after our trip so we decided not to tell anyone. Besides, we like secrets.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 06/15/07 

I call Olivia and Hailey kiddos all the time, mostly not to confuse them and god forbid, accidentally call them by the wrong name. “How was school today kiddo?” or “Bed time kiddo, lights out.” or “Morning kiddo, how are ya?” you get the point. On Thursday’s the kiddos attend a half day at preschool, nine to three. Two months out of three, Olivia has swim lessons after preschool which takes place on the schools campus at an indoor pool. It’s nice because that gives Hailey and me some one-on-one time, we go to the park or play in the gymnasium at her school or go to the ice cream parlor for an hour before it is time to pick-up Olivia.

Hailey and I were picking up Olivia from swim class, we just had ice cream. We parked the car, traversed through the labyrinth of hallways at the main building of their school and waited for Olivia outside the women’s locker room, correction I waited outside the locker room and Hailey went in to tell her sister we were there to pick her up. As always, when Olivia and Hailey emerge from the locker room they competitively race through the building, ignore security door protocols, climb up two lengthy flights of stairs and zoom past the main entry membership check area, all of that, to be the first one to press the handicap door button which fascinates them. The door opens, must be magic.

Lately, they have been competing for everything, who can get into the car first, who can get dressed first, who can wash their hands before a meal first, who can push the button first, etc, etc etc. The winner gloats and the looser will either throw a fit or proclaim, “It is not a competition!” Good sportsmanship is a concept preached daily too them, yet to be learned.

Back to the story: The kiddos clambered into the car; I buckled Hailey in then walked to the other side of the Forester to strap Olivia in her seat. She reached into my front shirt pocket and seized my sunglasses. I let her play with ‘em, just a cheap pair. She slid my sunglasses on her face and in her deepest possible voice said “It’s dark out kiddos.” I couldn’t help from laughing hysterically. Olivia started cracking-up too and Hailey was a bit puzzled as to what was so funny. I asked Olivia to tell repeat what she had said for her sister and the cognation of laughter continued the whole drive home.

I had been mocked by my own daughter. It was creatively funny, she spontaneously crafted the phrase, however I have a bad feeling that my impromptu hysteria will only lead to further mockeries.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 05/18/07 

Leopards of Botswana
Flipping through the April issue of National Geographic I came across an interesting photo journal of a baby leopard and her mother. In short, a journalist followed the mama and cub for thirteen months until the baby grew into adolescence and foraged off to live on her own. What captured my attention in this article was a two page photo spread of the mama saving her cub from a sixty foot fall. The two leopards were playing high in a tree, the cub slipped and the mama instinctively clutched the babe using her paws and jaws to save her baby. I like to believe that I have that same instinctive reflex. A fatherly-sixth-sense, I call it ‘daddar’ which comforts me, assuring me that no harm will come to my girls as long as I’m around to protect them.

Black and Blues
Kim bruises easily, a flick to her thigh easily turns into a deep tissue contusion. She is also somewhat clumsy and constantly bumping into things, she gets a lot of black-and-blue marks. She has talked to her doctor about the bruising problem and was told to take a one-a-day multivitamin which as far as we can tell hasn’t helped. My suggestion was for Kim to stop crashing into things. Unfortunately this genetic trait of bruising easily has been past down to Olivia and frequently new boo-boos mysteriously appear on her legs.

Scared
I’m no stranger to bumps and bruises and I’ve had my share of emergency room visits. Starting from as far back as memory serves to the present: A few stitches in my forehead when I was three caused by my older brothers who sent me down a flight of stairs while I was coasting on a riding toy. A concussion when I was seven or eight from slipping on driveway ice. At age eleven, a broken left ankle, results of an aggressive game of king-of-the-hill. At fourteen, while horseback riding, a broken right elbow, a fractured left ankle and a lot of scar tissue from being thrown off a falling horse (the horse slid on top of me pinning me between itself and a cinder-packed road; that was a messy one). Then I started playing hockey. Ten stitches above my left eye from a high-stick split me open. The receiving end of a vicious cross-check ejected two bottom teeth, one tooth I was able to save by jamming it back into my jaw and the other I had replaced with bridge. That happened a few months before my wedding. Lastly, a deflected puck almost completely removed the top third of my right ear which was sewn back on with close to forty stitches and yes I had a helmet on. The point here is I know my way around the ER.

Father Figures
Logging hundreds of hours, I’ve researched treatments for countless ailments that have afflicted Kim, Olivia, Hailey and I. A couple recent illnesses come to mind; strep throat and the stomach flu. I may not be able to prescribe antibiotics but I know plenty of soothing home remedies. Right after Olivia was born, Kim thought I was delusional when I bought a Medi-Scope to check eyes, ears, noses and throats, “Do you even know how to use that?” She questioned. Maybe not at the time but I’ve learned how to use it and what to look for.

I’m an expert at mending cuts, scrapes and abrasions. A month ago Kim frantically surprised me with this one while I was in the shower. “Hailey ripped her toe nail off!” The nail on her big toe was torn down the middle to the cuticle, (she likes to chew her toes). Half of the nail was hinged off exposing the matrix above the bone. I calmly cleaned Hailey’s big toe with warm soapy water, a dash of peroxide, and wrapped a Dora band-aid around the nail and toe. We repeated that regimen for several days checking for signs of infection and her nail healed fine.

I’ve studied anatomy for a decade and a half through anatomical drawing. For two years in college I drew nothing but skeletal, muscular, circulatory and nervous systems covering four semesters. After college, for several years, up until the day Olivia was born I frequented a figure drawing group twice a week at a local artist guild.

This journal entry is all over the place, I know. One more piece of back story to go, stick with me.

Prima
Olivia is a few months shy of completing her first year of dance lessons. Ballet, tap and gymnastics all rolled into one hour. Nana (Kim’s mom) takes her to class every Saturday morning. In the past year Olivia has evolved from klutzy to graceful. She glides through physical activities with presence of mind and body. Smoothly she reacts to obstacles conscience of the space around her.

Olivia’s Fall
A couple weeks ago Olivia, Hailey and I met my sister Rachel and her two kids Sadie and Louis at one of our favorite parks, Stacey Park. Recently all of the park’s rusting thirty-year-old playground equipment was removed in favor of a monstrous handicap accessible play compound with wide-grated ramps, towering platforms, a dozen static generating plastic slides, climbing walls, monkey bars, fireman poles, hands on musical toys, a vendor window and several bridges that connect it all together. This play structure has it all and it’s set on top of a soft shock absorbing rubber safety surface. The park also has an infant/toddler playground about twenty yards from the new play fortress.

We had been at the park for an hour and a half. Storm clouds filled the sky. Rach and Louis were treading on a walking path. Olivia and Sadie had just dashed away from the toddler area over to the new play fortress. Hailey and I were having an argument over a squatty plastic water bottle left on one of the benches fringed near the toddler playground. The dispute lasted for maybe five minutes and this is an excerpt from the conversation’s ending.
 
Hailey wanted the abandoned water bottle. “I want dis, now! now! now!” emphasizing each ‘now’ by stomping her foot.

“I understand, you want the bottle, but I’m sorry sweetie that is not our water bottle. If you are thirsty we can get a drink at the water fountain” My tenth plea. “Let’s go find Sissy and Sadie.”

“No! Dis! Dis! I want dis!” Obviously she wanted to inspect the midget bottle, maybe take it home as a memento.

“Put it down Hailey, that is not our…”

“No! I want dis!” She snapped back interrupting me while possessively holding the bottle at her side.

I was about to go Alec Baldwin on her when Rach strolled up. “Oh she can have that.”

“This! Is your bottle!?” I wanted to grab it from Hailey and spike it.

“Yea, she can have it. Go ahead Hailey.” And then Rach said, “Uh Oh! I hear Olivia, she must of fallen or something.”

Temporarily stunned, I couldn’t see Olivia, I could only hear her crying for me. Impulsively I followed the sound of her cries.

After the Fall
A kind-hearted mother witnessed Olivia fall, picked her up and was bringing her over to me. “She fell from that platform,” pointing to a four foot platform. “She landed on her back.”

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Is all I could say as I gingerly transferred Olivia from the mom to me. Her body was convulsing and she was crying so loudly that I couldn’t think.

“She stepped off backwards.” The considerate mom informed.

“How did she land?” I asked even though she just told me but I needed more details.

“She landed on her bottom and then her back.” Wincing as she explained the landing.

I thanked the sympathetic mother again, held Olivia tight while I skimmed the back of her head for any tender spots and slowly walked her back to the bench where Hailey was drinking from the fat little water bottle. I placed Olivia on the bench laying flat on her tummy, lifted up her shirt and looked for damage on her back. Not one bump, not one blotch, not even a scratch. I pulled her pants down to look at her tooshie. Nothing, no soreness, no lacerations, no redness. I sat down with her and she curled up in my lap. I smoothed her head, one for her comfort, two I was still checking for wounds. Her whimpering subsided. I asked her if anything was hurting inside. She said “no.” I shielded her eyes from the sun which was barley visible through the thick green storm clouds. It was enough light to check her eyes for dilation and her eyes adjusted to the sunlight. I had her stand up, raise her arms and close her eyes. She stood firm. I turned her around, pulled her shirt up and put my ear on her back. Her heart rate was probably half what mine was and her breathing sounded normal. I poked around at her lower back then spun her around, I pressed at her abdomen ribs and chest. Nothing felt tender.  At this point I started thinking we may not need to go to the emergency room. Last test, I walked to the other side of the toddler playground and had her run to me. She ran fine. We walked back to the bench where Hailey was still sipping on her prize and I asked Olivia again if anything was hurting her. She said “no.”

I turned to Rach, “I think she is ok. What do you think?”

“She’ll live” Rach said nonchalantly.

The smell of rain filled the air. It was time to go. I had to decide if we should go get some x-rays taken or head home. I chose home. We said bye to Rach, Lou and Sadie, then plodded into the car just as rain started to fall. Big heavy drops. Leaving the park I started thinking about Olivia’s fall and my negligence to be there when she needed me most. Where was my daddar? Why didn’t it sound an alert? Is it broken? Do I even have a daddar? My cell phone rang, it was Kim, and she sensed something was wrong, her mommy intuition was working.

“Olivia fell…” I stammered on for a few minutes about what happened ending with, “should I take her to the ER?”

“Take her home; give her an ice pack and keep you eye on her.” Kim assured me.

Over the next few days we watched Olivia closely. She showed no signs of injury, not one bruise, her body and ego intact. She was lucky. I was lucky. Even though everything turned out ok, the whole incident troubles me. Where was my fatherly intuition? How could I have been so easily distracted? Should I have taken Olivia to the emergency room? What if her landing was not as fortunate? The scenario haunts me. My parental confidence has been shattered.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 04/01/07 

Three months straight, Olivia repetitiously pleaded for a pair of her own scissors. Having tons of practice cutting at preschool and various activity centers she was definitely ready. But there was one little problem, Kim and I were concerned that Hailey’s lack of sheering dexterity combined with her strong determined nature could be a dangerous combination. At what point do you sacrifice the learning experience of an older child while protecting the younger sibling from possible physical harm or mental anguish? We figured that close supervision would be the key, so Kim bought two identical training scissors and surprised the girls.

For the past few months Olivia has been methodically producing new and exciting artwork. She has evolved into a multi-media genius. Experimenting with papers, ribbons, string, yarn, cloth, anything clipable, also playing with several different tacking mediums, glue stick, tape, glitter glue, paints, hot glue gun (with my assistance), skillfully layering objects upon object. Her insatiable desire to create supersedes my own and I have a fine arts degree.

As predicted, Hailey was frustrated from the first cut. She had trouble holding the scissors. Her thumb ending up loosely in the big hole, her fingers crammed into the little hole, palms too small to open the scissors all the way and instead of trimming she’d end up tearing. Forget about explaining the correct way of holding and snipping to my independent thinker/doer, any assistance from me or Kim was (is) strictly prohibited. A few weeks of trial and error ensued and eventually she was able to make a few clean cuts. I was proud of her cut-above achievement and congratulated her, “You did it! Good job sweetie!” with high-fives, opposite her hand holding the scissors, obviously.

After a couple months of storing the scissors on a high shelf in Olivia’s closet we decided it was ok to keep them in the accessible-anytime craft box. This wasn’t a noticeable problem until Olivia’s slashing experimentation expanded from the limitation of her craft table or easel to any object she deemed detachable. I have caught her trimming the yarn-like hair from her groovy girl doll, by explanation, needed the hair out of her eyes. I also have found many of her little two-piece doll-house toys freed from the strings that hold them together, for instance, a miniature nightstand with half a string and a missing tiny hair brush or a bathtub figurine now minus a tiny washcloth. Also the doodle etch a sketch toy is now missing the etching pen. An alphabet caterpillar (I think that’s what it is) pull-along toy needed string repair. A wear around your neck toy drum is no longer wearable. On day she diligently chopped-up half of a fat neon green skein of yarn into tiny pieces, she was making grass. Do I ever stop her from what some may think is destruction? No. I say things like “I love your lawn, you manicured it so nicely.”

Am I negligent in teaching her what is right and wrong or am I allowing creative freedoms? All the lost or detached toys are irrelevant why not let her learn about the value of her possessions though making a few inconsequential mistakes. Until she finds my shoe laces or worse, my skates, I won’t keep her tied down. If I did, she’d probably cut herself free anyway.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 03/19/07 

Olivia woke up Wednesday with a crippling daddy day hangover. Slowly she roused, hands shielding her eyes from the meager dawns light, “Is today a school day?”

“Yes sweetie. Today is a school day.”

“I don’t want to go to school today… I don’t feel well… I’m sick…” She gasped out a pathetic cough. “My ear hurts…” Pointing to her left ear. “I want to go see doctor Bullivant…” I bargained her out of bed, leading her to believe that if Roz (Olivia’s preschool teacher) thought she was sick then I would take her to the doctor.

Just last week Hailey stayed home from school for a few days with a nasty virus and I was suspecting Olivia was attempting to test how she may be able to reap the benefits of falsifying an illness. During the blur of activity that involves readying Olivia and Hailey for and getting to preschool I asked Olivia if her ear was feeling better. She said that it still hurt. I asked her which ear was bothering her. She pointed to her right ear.

There was this one time, I was six or seven, I tried to convince my mother that an old scar on my hand was really a debilitating rash and there was no way I could go to school that day. My mom smartly didn’t buy it and callously sent me to school. She had a lot of experience debunking fake sicknesses before I came along. (I’m the youngest of four). Through the years I had to become increasingly creative when attempting a fake sickness. One bit was rubbing the old fashioned mercury filled thermometer on my pants to raise the temp. My mom would feel my cool forehead and say “hmm, one hundred and six? I’m surprised you’re not dead. Now get to school.” By the time I got to high school I would research medical journals for believable illnesses and sickly act out all the symptoms. “Hmm, bacterial meningitis you say?” My mom never fell for any of it.

Back to Olivia’s pseudo ear ache. When we arrived at the pumpkin room, (Olivia’s classroom), with a wink I explained to Roz that Olivia had woke up feeling ill. Roz assured Olivia that after breakfast she would send her to the school nurse. I told Olivia that I would come pick her up if the nurse thought a doctor visit was necessary. I didn’t hear from the nurse that day and when I got home from work that evening I asked Olivia how she was feeling. She answered, “fine,” her face wearing the expression of ‘why are you asking me that?’

***

The night previous to Olivia’s sickness charade, Bubie (my mom) came over for dinner and story-time. It has become somewhat of a Tuesday night ritual when Bubie is home from volunteer work in Israel. This particular night Hailey was more flamboyant than ever. She danced and ran circles around the house, naked of course, showing off for Bubie. “Watch dis (this) Bubie!” As she dove off the couch.
During dinner my mom remarked that Hailey must be feeling better from the virus that kept her home from school for a few days last week. Before Bubie could finish her statement, Hailey started wailing, “my mouth!…it hurts!”

Bubie instantly sympathized with Hailey, “Oh poor thing, her throat must be a little soar still.”

I rolled my eyes and said, “the girl who cries wolf.”

As those words were leaving my mouth, seemingly rehearsed, Hailey tilted her head back and howled out a piercing full moon wolf cry, “Auow, auow, auoooow.”

I can handle the world’s deceptions, I have too many years experience with that. Yet, from my own children? Sure, Olivia and Hailey may still be figuring out the difference between fact and fiction, testing their creative boundaries, perfecting guile and warping their own creativity. I understand that, for now.

Originally posted on BabyCenter.com 01/19/07 

For over a month Olivia’s preschool class practiced a skit that they performed during this years Hanukah party and every day Kim and I interrogated Olivia about the details of the skit. Kim would ask “Did your class rehearse today?” Then I would question, “What songs did you sing?” Then Kim would inquire, “Do you have any lines?” Then I would cross-examine, “Do you have a major part?” Kim would ask another and then I would ask another, etc… Olivia secretively dodged all our questions for the entire month. The more we questioned the less she talked. A few days before the play I was ready to fabricate a waterboard in the tub to get some answers out of her.
 
The day of the parties came. I say parties because Hailey who is still at the infant/toddler building on the community centers’ campus had a small informal music, crafts and snack get together in the morning before nap time. At the beginning of the predictable party, Hailey’s class, the green room, marched in single file out of their room and into the multi-purpose room where all the parents and special friends were waiting. It was a grand entrance and all of the green room children were wearing handmade Shamash hats. (The Shamash is the lead candle that lights the other candles on the menorah). Hailey placidly sat in my lap for the duration of the musical portion of the festivity proudly wearing the hat that she made. We joined the rest of her class inside the green room for snacks and a dreidel craft after the sing-along. Hailey shed a few tears when Kim, Zadie (my dad) and I had to leave, she didn’t want the party to end.
 
Six o’clock that same evening the preschooler’s party was held in the auditorium at the main building. Kim and I decided to pack a light picnic style dinner and eat with the girls in the cafeteria before heading into the assembly hall. It was a smart move considering when Olivia and Hailey get home from school they take off most of their clothing, demand juice and a movie, then comatosely melt into the couch until we drag them to the dinner table. Had we done the normal routine we would have never made it out of the house in time for the soiree.
 
As we entered the auditorium Roz (Olivia’s teacher) said “hello” and gave Olivia a handcrafted menorah hat that all the pumpkin room kids were wearing. Nine construction paper candles circled Olivia’s head and as she put it on Hailey demanded her Shamash hat. As I was getting the Shamash hat out of her backpack she also wanted her purple tinker bell sunglasses and I obliged her. Roz directed Olivia to the front of the auditorium where a two foot riser sat in front of the main stage. Then Roz asked Kim, Hailey and me to find a seat. The place was filling up quickly. We were lucky to find seats in the second row and saved one for my dad who showed up soon after we got there.
 
Olivia climbed onto the riser and was instantly pushed back behind the big five-year old kids from the bear room who were all wearing latke hats and then pushed even further back by the four-year old kids from the yellow room who were all wearing dreidel hats. A lot of the kids were jockeying for a front row position. Olivia listlessly hung in the shadows and I could barely see her behind everyone. Stage fright or intimidation? No wonder she was so reluctant to talk about the rehearsals. “How was your day honey?” “Oh great dad, another day of getting pushed around by the big kids.”
 
The show begun as Jody (director of academia) lit the menorah and all the children sung the blessings. Then Jody started the skit with a short Q and A. “Who was Judah?” and all the children shouted, “Leader of the Maccabee’s!” She asked several more questions with prompt answers provided. Olivia didn’t say one word.
 
The musical portion of the play came next; Hailey rushed the stage and pulled herself onto the elevated platform. She found a little space front and center then joined in the singing. With her Shamash hat and tinker bell sunglasses on, she was waving to the crowd, singing as loud as she could and animating her body to the music. Everybody in the house cracked up at her loony antics. At one point some of the older kids shoved her into the back row but she tenaciously elbowed her way to the front again where she belted-out unrehearsed tunes. Olivia’s back was bashfully turned to the audience for the entire show, until the very end, when she glanced over her shoulder to see her little sister Hailey, the Shamash, leading the way and boldly stealing the show.
 
I felt so proud and happy for Hailey yet sad and compassionate for Olivia. However, they were indifferent, like nothing out of the ordinary happened. No feelings hurt, (not that I could tell), no joyous celebrations, (although Kim and I congratulated both of them). They went about their party business; diligently completing all the craft projects and devouring the sugar cookie snack. The only real problem was shlepping them home kicking and screaming. Both didn’t want the party to end.