Category: Family
Happenings in a 5 child, 2 adult household.
From the mouths of babes
Dad: "Noah. I want you to close the bathroom door all the way [so that Evan can’t get in] then brush your teeth."
Noah: proceeds to start brushing his teeth.
Dad: "Noah, what did I say?"
Noah: "Close the door then brush my teeth."
Noah: Proceeds to start to brush teeth.
Dad: "What are you doing?!"
Noah: "Oh! Close the door."
Noah: Pushes door almost shut.
Dad: Pushes door open with finger.
Dad:"All the way!"
I live with the Marx Brothers.
From the mouths of babes
Everyone overslept this morning. The elementary school bell rings at 7:45.
Dad: "Noah! Wake up! It’s 7:35."
Noah, 10, bolting upright, very staccato: "Holy crap!"
Dad, wide eyed and thinking to himself: I’ll let that one slide on this occasion.
It was very surprising because Noah watches his tongue well around adults.
Returning to normalcy?
Ok. Normalcy and "our life" typically are not used in the same sentence. What has returned to our life is the daily in and out of getting people to and fro. That’s right! Fall break is over and the kids are back in school and in karate and in therapy and in student council and in art club and in scouts and in this and in that. And mom and dad are in the taxi service.
13 and not firing on all cyclinders
My daughter has stuck a note for her mother directly on the screen of her monitor with duct tape! Guess I won’t be getting her an LCD panel monitor anytimes soon. I also can’t convince her that her WordPress blog is far better and more powerful than her Xanga blog. At least she improved the appearance of her Xanga a little.
Frustrating but nice
I love my children. Evan’s "DadaA! hahaha"s are particularly nice. But the responsibilities of adulthood are often fraught with conflict. I have a phone interview in an hour and 15 minutes. I desperately wanted to get an introductory email to the company but have been unable to compose it. I wanted to take the two hours prior to the phone call to calm myself, review my resume, and prepare. Cathy is not feeling well this morning so instead of preparing myself, I am doing the right thing and letting her rest while I watch the children. Honestly, I do not need to prepare for an interview but my wife needs to feel better.
Sometimes pictures need captions
I just had to add a thought bubble to this picture. To really appreciate this picture you should also look at this one a year ago (and another good one this month).
Put my wife in JPGMAG!
Please have a look at my wife’s submission and give her a yes vote for the October issue of JPGMAG. Thanks! Just referring to it as "my wife’s submission,"
noting that it is a picture, and hyperlinking to it should get lots of interest. I’ll entice you more and let you know the picture involves breasts.
We are ready for Hollywood!
Hehe! Time flies and memories fade but the joys that fill our lives are forever memorialized in blog. I just re-read my family’s re-enactment of a Malcolm in the Middle sketch.
Escargot – faster than rabbits!
Apparently to control the snail population in Tommy’s 6 gallon tank, we need a snail eating fish, like a Clown Loach, and a 30 gallon tank. Dr Helm explains. I didn’t know snails could grow to 3 inches long!
From the mouths of babes
Amy: "We sold Noah to the gypsies."
Dad: "Oh, those poor gypsies!"
Amy: "Noooo. Poor Noah!"
How to make Dad feel bad.
Amy is very weepy today. She cried twice at school, and talked about missing Lucy. We suspect "Missing Lucy" means "I feel sad and can’t express why" or something akin to that. I feel helpless. I do not feel that I am meeting the basic needs of my family. I can hear my wife’s voice in my head, "Don’t make this about you" but I cannot helping feeling like the root cause of the problem.
Today’s Non-verbal Communication
For no apparent reason, Cathy wants me to stand behind the van. And I knew it before she posted this!
Sarah did a doubletake!
Sarah is one of those "must contain all my emotion inside and always look morose" teenagers. She refuses to say "I love you" to anyone and conversation with the parents is totally uncool. Although I have minimized the amount of NPR listening when she is in the car I still force her to hear a little bit about what is happening in the world. She does her best to ignore me.
As I dropped her off at school this morning I chimed out, "Have a nice day Sarah! I love you!" then as she got out my autotomic brain spouted out, "Have a nice day Noah." Sarah had already begun closing the door and instead of running from the car as quickly as possible like normal, she stopped, turned back to car, opened the door and gave me the quirkiest look wordlessly declaring, "you are the craziest dad in the world!" then went off to school with a smile on her face.
True Love – Speechless Communication
When Cathy and I were dating, I could read her mind. How connected! To know one another’s thoughts without speaking a word is bliss.
All married couples are familiar with this non-verbal communication. It changes a little after tying the knot. Ok, it changes a lot. For instance, when dating, I knew what Cathy needed. Now married, I simply know how angry she is with me.
The kids have a game called Punch Buggy. We archaic folk know it as Slug Bug and shun the unnecessary "no punch backs" childishness. Our most open communication comes through this game.
- When things are hunky-dory
- Cathy will call Slug Bug and the color and choose a child. No hit thrown of course. Occasionally, for balance, I receive a no hitter. And we all laugh.
- I may have irritated Cathy or she has had a frustrating day
- I get a light punch to the arm.
- I said something stupid
- I will feel a sting, still to the arm.
- I directly confront her, maybe without substance
- She stares into the parking lots like a hawk searching for a mouse and wallops me a good one possibly leaving a bruise. Any body part is fair game.
- My very presence annoys her for no rationale reason
- She will make up seeing a slug bug and magically find one of those Jedi nerve places bringing subtle tears to the corners of my eyes
- I yell at a child, scare her, or momentarily forget where I am
- She waits until we move to the back of the car, then she takes the tailgate and repeatedly slams it on my head. As I falter toward the ground she takes the baby from my hands and storms into Target with the other children leaving me bloody, dizzy, and barely standing in the parking lot. She never tells me the color of the Volkswagen.
Ah! Now that’s efficient communication.
