I used to think it was just that she was 5 going on 13. I was way too conservative in my estimate. She's past her teenage years already. Tonight, while having dinner with my parents who came up to help us do a couple of things around the house (I bribed them with beer, burgers, and unrestricted access to the kids), my mother asked which of the ice creams we were serving was sugar free. And the Girl Child spoke:

Girl Child: Grandpa? Nana is allergic to sugar. . .

Grandpa: I know.

GC: Which is unfortunate.

Silence reigned for a moment as we all processed that remark. The Girl Child quietly continued with her ice cream.

Then, later tonight, I threw her pj's to her. It was not a good throw but she caught them just fine.

Me: Good catch! It was not a good throw.

GC: Pappa, it wasn't about the throw; it was all about the catch. [pause] It really wasn't a very good throw but it was an excellent catch.

Like I said. 25, at least.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 07:12 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Saturday began without direction, without plans, without any ambition other than to have no plans, no direction and no ambition. We were planned out, the Viking Bride and her dashing consort (that'd be me, in case you weren't sure), and still somewhat tired from the trip. The children and I were enjoying a quiet breakfast together en trois when I happened to notice a small advertisement in the local paper for an event that evening. I seized on it as a sign from above, as inspiration striking, and so, in a move not necessarily calculated to endear me to my bride, I picked up the phone and invited my parents to come out with us that night. Then I bought me some tickets.

Now, before I get to the main event, taking this as it came that day, we first had to hit the pool/ beach, as the weather was gawgeous. So we did. And then came naps for the kinder. And then, why then we headed off to bring the children to their first ever minor league baseball game.

Go, Bluefish!

There is something magical about minor league baseball. It was a lovely summer night, not too hot, cooling breezes, cold beer, hot dogs, and splendid seats five rows behind home plate on the first base side. We also had a view of the train tracks so the Boy Child could continue to shout, with great excitement, TRAIN!, every time a train went by. We had hot peanuts and the kids sampled cracker jacks for the first time. It was also kid hat giveaway night, which both puzzled and delighted them. The mascot was not as big a hit -- the teeth on that fish were just a bit too long for the comfort of the Boy Child.

But just sitting there, teaching the kids to yell, batterbatterbatter, swing, batter, was worth it. Even my father had a good time.

There is something wonderful about minor league ball, with the potato sack races and spin around the bat until you're dizzy races, and the giveaway Ct. Light and Power t-shirts they fling into the stands. Something so downright delightfully hokey, such a fun combination of not too serious marketing with the national pastime. I don't know, just sitting there in the stands of this intimate little stadium was uplifting. I tell you, baseball is healing.

My wife wants to go back for our next date night.

By the way, I think I had the nicest compliment from the Girl Child as I tucked her into bed last night. I asked her if she had a nice weekend (we also went to the pool and then a local fair to ride the rides on Sunday -- that we me petrified of heights climbing up the huge slide stair case to ride down with the Boy Child -- he was fine, I was terrified) and she said: "Pappa, it was the best weekend ever!" Take that, working parent guilt! Hah!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:29 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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1 As an adolescent girl-child, we went to the AA ball field in my home town quite frequently. The big draw was the San Diego Chicken. The park was always crowded for that particular fowl and I got to sit on the grass just to the left of the opposing team's dugout. Oh. My. Nice. . .um, pants. I'm so glad you had a good time. I've wonderful memories of summer evenings and free hot dog night, myself. Missed ya. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at July 10, 2006 01:00 PM (cyksu)

2 Good show. Isn't it great when they say things like that? That is one bellicose looking fish, I might add!

Posted by: MCNS at July 10, 2006 04:50 PM (QVIhH)

3 Very cool. Maybe I'll run into you at Harbor Yard one of these weekends. I actually haven't even been to a game yet this season, but I intend to soon. I'll be the guy yelling things like "Aw, come on! Yoko Ono has better pitch control!" and "Geeze, this game has more foul balls than a rooster convention!" Good times.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at July 12, 2006 09:05 PM (bjxZN)

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My son, the Boy Child, has a rather intimate relationship with his poopie. He's three and a half, remember. We had the following interchange I want to preserve. He was sitting on the potty while I was changing out of my suit.

BC: Pappa, the poopie wants me to move up on the seat.

Me: Ok. Did the poopie tell you that it wanted to move.

BC: Pappa. The poopie can't talk. Poopie don't have mouth. [tone: earnest, but thinking I'm an idiot]

Now, while the poopie cannot talk, it does have a keen sense of adventure, as shown by this conversation my wife just sent me:

The Boy Child calls from the bathroom: "someone come wipe me!" I step in to perform my maternal duty. Then he asks "where does the poopie go? does it go to the bushes to get some chicken nuggets? or no, maybe waffles? or does it go to the city to see the dinisaurs?"

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:24 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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The Girl Child is officially no longer a pre-schooler. She graduated in a lovely little ceremony this morning and I only cried at the end when they marched out and I thought I was seeing her march out into life and I wasn't ready yet. This, by the way, from the guy who needed to be warned in advance when the Girl Child was moving from newborn to size 1 diapers, ok, so take that into consideration.

She was the first one called to receive her diploma. It was alphabetical and not, as I posited to her teacher, because they were being called in order of academic standing. She waved her diploma in the air and several people called her name. These people were not related to me. Among the family attending were her grandmother and her great-grandmother.

I am so proud of her and I told her over lunch after the ceremony. The Girl Child, as her teachers pointed out, walked into that class room and didn't know a soul and immediately made three or four new best friends. Every mother I have met, or practically so, has said, "Oh, you're the Girl Child's father. My son/daughter always talks about her." The teachers said that there was never an off day for the Girl Child, that her enthusiasm never flagged, that her good will or spirits never dipped. She was just perfect. I think she changed at this school for the better. She used to be shy and hang back. She's now self confident and eager to jump into the middle of whatever activity is taking place. She grew taller and, if possible, even more beautiful.

As we left the reception, she was busy inviting her main teacher over for dinner.

Can you tell how proud I am of her? Probably.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 01:39 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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The end of another school year is upon us, rather suddenly. The Girl Child graduates from pre-school tomorrow. I plan to attend. I will try not to cry too much. I will probably fail in that. But that's tomorrow. Yesterday was the last day of school for the Boy Child. He's finished his 2's program, his first year of school. I'm not sure that he grasps the idea that he won't have "Toni Class" any more. I am told that Toni, his teacher, was a mess yesterday, crying all over the place. The Boy Child was her favorite, or so she told us when she told us that, "you know, we're are not allowed to have favorites, ahem."

I had the kids on my bed last night for story reading, just the three of us. We often do that. After we finished reading, I gathered the Boy Child into my arms and spoke to him. I told him that I was so proud of him for finishing his first year of school. He asked me why so I elaborated. I told him that he learned so much, that he came to school barely speaking and now he speaks so beautifully, that he went to school in diapers and now wears underpants, that he learned how to play with others, how to do arts and crafts, how to sit for story time, how to celebrate Shabbot, and how to be his own little guy. The Girl Child then said that I would be prouder of her when she graduates and I gently told her that right now we were talking about the Boy Child and how much we loved him and how we were proud of him and she agreed that she was proud of him, too. Tomorrow, I told her, would be her day, and she was ok with that.

I then told him that he learned to be more independent. That when he started, he used to get so sad and cry and have to go out on the playground so the Girl Child could give him a hug and I asked him if he remembered this? He did and so did the Girl Child. And now, I told him, he doesn't have to do that and that in and of itself was a nice big change. He liked hearing about that and he and I and the Girl Child talked about it for a little bit.

He is such a beautiful little boy and when I told him that I loved him and that I was so proud of him, he glowed so bright he was practically incandescent. The Girl Child and I sat there and cuddled with him and basked in his happiness.

I still feel it now, so I decided to write about it.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:56 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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The Boy Child does not like to be stampeded into a decision. He has begun to request information. He wants to gather all the facts before he's pushed into making a choice and the more important the choice, the more facts he wants. When asked what he wants for dinner, he now responds, in the spirit of diligent inquiry: "What mine options are?"

Imagine what he's like when the stakes are raised on a dessert question.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:02 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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She can't take it anymore, that much is clear. The baby is having gas pains and it makes him cry very hard and with great gusto, a lot. Of course, we all feel for the little guy. Sometimes, say, at 2:30 a.m., it is more of a struggle to winch up a little water from the well of sympathy.

Normally, the Girl Child sleeps like a rock. Impossible to wake and, if woken before her self appointed hour, not the most gracious human I have ever seen. Falling asleep for her can take hours, but once asleep, she's good for a very long stretch.

Last night, I bathed the kids and put them to bed. The Viking Bride was feeding the baby in his room. All was quiet, all was calm. Then the crying started. That's when the Girl Child registered the following complaint with the management:

[arms up, hands out in front of her waving around for emphasis through the whole speech]
Mamma, you know I can't sleep when the baby's crying.

It keeps me up and I wake up in the morning exhausted. I don't know what you were thinking when you decided to have another baby. The first I knew of it was when you were in the hospital and Pappa told me. I am perfectly good with the brother I have. I don't need another brother on the other side.

I knew I was going to be exhausted in the morning. I don't know what you were thinking having another baby. And his crying keeps me up all night.

Clearly, the pressure is getting to her and she just cracked.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 07:42 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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1 Too young to have these fissures. Does she take good naps? Hang in there Family RP!

Posted by: Wicked H at May 25, 2006 08:06 AM (iqFar)

2 How funny.. exactly how old is girl child... she way beyond her years....

Posted by: Kiddoc at May 25, 2006 10:11 AM (De/e6)

3 Man the gas pains are horrid, of course the missus hates when I ease the pains. She'd rather I suffer. She still thinks its cute when the phinlet relieves the pressure. 'tis a double standard I say and I'll be having none of that in my house hold (so long as the missus doesn't read these comments).

Posted by: phin at May 25, 2006 02:48 PM (79dMt)

4 You could tell the Girl Child that she used to cry alot, too, when she was a baby and that it's a phase that all newborns go through as they get used to eating through their mouth instead of a tube in their tummy. She might understand that and find some more patience. It's just gas. It'll pass.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at May 25, 2006 03:50 PM (fs1yQ)

5 Oh, no, that's barely a chink in her armor. She's good to go. ; )

Posted by: Christina at May 25, 2006 07:24 PM (zJsUT)

6 Oh my goodness. And so...mature in her delivery. This girl is going to rule the world one of these days. I've very little doubt.

Posted by: Jennifer at May 26, 2006 04:02 PM (y4DOI)

7 I love the stories of your children so much, RP. :-) I've told both stories today, of the GC and the BC to everyone I've talked to on the phone and the consensus is..."Awwww!" :-)

Posted by: Amber at May 26, 2006 04:44 PM (zQE5D)

8 Too much!!! LOL

Posted by: Mark at May 26, 2006 09:07 PM (jPkqe)

9 Oh, we should ALL have this child's common sense! Sleep is so very important. Hang in there, love. This too, shall pass. (I know that little pun's been done before, but I'm incapable of stopping it.)

Posted by: Margi at May 28, 2006 02:56 AM (BRtaN)

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You have to instill certain values in your children. I subscribe to the unpopular view that children are essentially savages, people who have no self control, no ability to separate desire from action, people who will take the shortest distance between wish and fulfillment, even if that means trampling all over someone else. I know that conflicts with the widely held belief that children are innocents, fuzzy little creatures of inherent goodness as glimpsed from afar through a pastel, impressionist like lens. Phooey. Because I believe the Lord of the Flies was probably a lot closer to truth than to fiction, I have (as I believe I have mentioned before) tried to raise my little ones to hit back and to hit in defense of each other. Simplicity itself, really.

If someone hits the Girl Child, she hits back. If she sees someone hit her brother, her obligation is to get her butt over there and defend her brother with her fists. These two concepts are so very useful. First, they are simple to understand. Second, it makes the Girl Child empowered -- she is responsible for defending her little brother (who, of course, is supposed to do the same thing for his sister) and there is no "I'm a girl" garbage and I can't hit. My little girl will learn to defend herself, will learn how to solve her own problems, and not rely on the kindness of strangers to either defend or protect her. In essence, I am trying to make her self-reliant.

It may be working.

We were at brunch with my parents and my mother in law yesterday for Mothers' Day. We took them to our little beach club and after lunch the kids played on the lawn with some of their Summer friends, the kids they only see at the beach during the Summer. The Boy Child was amusing himself with a purple frisbee when some older child tried to snatch it out of his hands. The older child did not take no for an answer and hit my son. The Girl Child practically flew across the lawn, after witnessing the altercation, and smacked the kid. The kid then hit my daughter who, immediately, smacked him back much harder and the kid retreated from the field.

Telling you that I was bursting with pride would understate my feelings. She stood up for herself, she made it clear that she would not accept being hit or being a target, and she protected her brother.

They both came running over to tell me about it, not knowing, I suppose, that I had seen the whole thing. My son was all for saddling up and heading off in hot pursuit of "that stupid boy", but I gently dissuaded him, trying to let him down gently that the moment for hitting back in his own defense had passed now that the "stupid boy" had run away.

They acted just the way I had hoped they would. Without hesitation, to protect each other.

I guess they do listen.

On a different topic, I thought that the Boy Child said something very charmingly profound this weekend.

Boy Child: Pappa, are you an grownup?

Me: Yes, I am. Are you a grownup?

BC: No, I are not an grownup. I are an someone.

Indeed.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:50 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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1 That's a great story, thanks for sharing RP. I wholeheartedly agree with you about the self defense, kids like that boy see prey, kids they can pick on and pounce. Kids have to stand up for themselves and their siblings to drive off the little pricks, just like your daughter did. It's a difficult concept to a peace-loving kid like my son, he just gets upset when other kids take his toys etc. Although I HAVE seen him push other kids back and retaliate, many times he picks the more peaceful route because something else interests him more. He's coming up on kindergarten years soon, and I've seen the kids in my neighbourhood so yeah, I'm going to teach him how to punch too.

Posted by: Oorgo at May 15, 2006 03:17 PM (lM0qs)

2 I love it. I had nothing to do with it and I'M proud of them. I can only try to imagine your experience at the time.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at May 15, 2006 07:24 PM (uE4xA)

3 And that is a great quote from the BC. Out of the mouths of babes, indeed...

Posted by: MCNS at May 16, 2006 01:13 PM (pbCqD)

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My daughter has discovered that she can use the phone by herself now if someone reads her the number off the wall. Life is over.

She wished to have a playdate with friend A. She called friend A, I'm told, spoke to the mother, took our home calendar down, and proposed a free date to friend's mother. Mother said she'd call her back. The Girl Child did not wait patiently and at 5 minute intervals proposed calling back. I demurred. So, flushed with the joy of success from her first solo phone venture, she requested a playdate with friend B. I consented and handed her the phone. This time I got to listen and even take part.

Girl Child: Hello, this is Girl Child. I'm calling to arrange a play date with Friend. I'm free on Friday, is that good for her? [pause] Ok, I'll put my father on.

[Now, just so you know, I really like this woman]

Mother: Hi, she did that so nicely but Friday's not going to work, how about next week?

Me: That would be fine. Yeah, I was really pleased with her phone manners, actually.

Mother: How's your wife?

Me: My wife? She's a good wife. No, really. I mean, no, she's a really good wife. Why? What have you heard? What are people saying?

[silence]

Mother: I meant, I mean, didn't she just have a baby?

Me: Oh yeah. That. Yeah, she's a little whiny but otherwise doing great. Thanks for asking!

See why my daughter wants to cut me out of the play date making process?

I'm going to be such an embarrassment to her when she's older. No question about it.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:01 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 cute! when my girl child was 3 a friend of mine told her she could call her anytime if she ever needed anything. well, girl child took this literally and began waking up at 2 a.m. to call my friend. after four nights of this, my friend told me, "i'm not supposed to tell you, but..." and told me the whole story. of course, it was hilarious, but i had NO idea she knew how to do that on her own. watch out! thanks for stopping by my site. cheers!

Posted by: femme despoir at May 12, 2006 09:18 AM (hyET4)

2 I have a little man (4 yrs) in Australia who just worked out that Auntie Mia (in Hong Kong) is on speed dial. We've been having great chats.....

Posted by: Mia at May 12, 2006 06:26 PM (bSCmv)

3 "She's a little whiny. . ." BWAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!!! In the immortal words of Maude: God'll get you for that, Walter. LMFAOO You nut!

Posted by: Margi at May 13, 2006 01:56 AM (BRtaN)

4 that is so cute at least she hasn't asked for the car keys! (yet)

Posted by: zya at May 13, 2006 04:30 AM (3zyD3)

5 I was laughing so hard at that one I droppped the phone and nearly fell off my chair retrieving it while chucking.

Posted by: michele at May 16, 2006 12:31 PM (gOmeT)

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I have fulfilled my promise and played my role in the unbroken covenant dating back 3500 years to Abraham. My son has had his bris. He did beautifully, although my father had to be cautioned by the mohel to hold the boy's legs more firmly and a bit more carefully. The boy is rather strong, according to the mohel.

The attendance was low but the important ones managed to come.

I wore my grandfather's yarmulke for the ceremony. It was the first time I had put it on, ever. My grandmother had made it for him. He wore it all the time I knew him. The cantor said it was Bukharan in style, which I did not know. It was a difficult moment for me. The bris for the boy named for my grandfather and my wearing his yarmulke. I took it out of his tallis bag and closed the bag up. I had been delaying, coming up with reason after reason to avoid taking possession of these things from my mom. It doesnÂ’t take a genius to figure out why. But I wore it.

After the bris, we hung it with our guests and then went for a long lunch at our old beach club. The kids frolicked on the lawn next to the ocean. It was a spectacular day. I drove everyone back home for a little while and we returned to Westchester that evening for the Seder.

The Girl Child sang the four questions in Hebrew. She's five years old. She is now officially more accomplished than I am.

We didn't get home from the Seder until almost 10:00. We were all terribly tired. The children had not napped and I have not had a complete night's sleep in days, if not longer. I put them to bed and went to my room to unpack from the day.

It had been a momentous day. We welcomed our son into the world in a spiritual, ritual way and we celebrated the deliverance of the Israelites from slavery in Egypt. It was quite a day.

I opened my grandfather's tallis bag to replace within it his, now my, yarmulke. I don't know why I did the following, what prompted me to do this, but I put my face to his tallis bag and inhaled.

He has been dead since December, my beloved grandfather. I miss him more than I can possibly relate. I thought I was doing better with his death.

But the tallis bag. Oh, my. The bag smelled of him. I could smell his particular scent in it still. The scent I used to smell when I hugged him or sat next to him. I can't describe it but it was ineluctably his, this scent. I closed the bag immediately and began to struggle not to cry. It was such a blow, such an unexpected punch to suddenly find him there in that bag, there in the room with me. I shut the bag quickly so I could, as if I really could, preserve the smell, not expose it to air, bottle it for later, hold on to that dear man for a little bit longer.

Right now, the scent was too much for me. I'm not going to tell my mother or uncles about it, I don't think. Maybe later it will be a comfort to me but right now that faint scent is overwhelming.

I miss him so much that I have given my son his name. Although, right now, I have difficulty calling my son by his given name. Instead, I call him by the nickname my daughter has bestowed upon him and I find that easier.

I'm going to hug that bag to my chest, you know, and pray for the time that it becomes a comfort to me and not a trial.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 01:23 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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I just slept for the last 40 minutes or so and am feeling marginally more human. It was an early start to the day (alarm at 3:40 a.m.) after a difficult night with the little guy, mostly difficult for my wife but I was up a bit, too. I had to get up so early to meet the new nanny at the airport at 5:20. It is about an hour's drive from her to Kennedy airport.

So, it was about 4:00 when I went downstairs this morning to quickly make some coffee before heading off and I heard some suspicious little feet pattering away upstairs. I went up to investigate and found the Boy Child and the Girl Child coming out of her room:

BC: Pappa, me so thirsty, me have some freshWAter, please?

GC: Pappa, he's really thirsty and wants some fresh water. My water on my night table is a little old.

Me: What was he doing in your room?

GC: Oh, he slept in my bed because he said he was scared.

I picked him up and carried him downstairs where I got him some fresh water and brought him back up and tucked him and the Girl Child back into her bed, hoping they'd get to sleep.

They didn't. I heard more footsteps moving around quickly upstairs.

Then my wife came down. Now, this is how you know you've married a good one, ok. It is just past 4:00 in the morning, your wife has been up and then asleep and then up and then asleep throughout the night, she has just been woken up by the other kids, and she reports to you with great humor:

You realize that you are leaving me all alone in the house with two members of the five and under crowd engaged in an active search upstairs for the prophet Elijah? At least, that's what they said they were looking for when they just came into our room and woke me up.

They are some lucky kids, I tell you. If I tried that, I'd have had some violence committed on my person.

The bris for the new guy, by the way, will be on Wednesday.

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I would say we've made a few changes for the Girl Child and Boy Child this weekend. We've brought home a new brother for them, fired the nanny (that went very well, actually), are bringing the new nanny in to start tomorrow, and have put the Boy Child in a big boy bed. The Boy Child is still wearing a diaper at night (age 3) because he keeps peeing in the night. The following is what transpired this morning when I crawled into bed with him to cuddle with him after he woke up:

Me: Did you pee in your diaper last night?

BC: Weeeel, I went to the potty a lot last night.

Me: Yes, but did you pee in your diaper?

BC: Mamma changed me last night [tone: earnest]

Me: Ok, but did you pee in your diaper?

BC: [sighs] Oh, dear. Maybe a lot.

I was so proud of him and his attempts to answer my questions without actually answering them. I think he's close to ready for national elective office.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 07:07 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
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I blocked it all from my memory. How bad the incomplete night is. I didn't get the brunt of it, I just took the 1:00 to 2:30 shift when, remembering that I was going to have to watch the two older children, I passed the new guy back to his mother.

Everything hurts -- head, neck, back. Not to whine, because no matter how bad I feel I can guarantee that my wife feels worse.

Sitting here right now with the older kids, I made the Girl Child (age 5) laugh:

Me: Girl Child, your hair looks so pretty since we got it cut. She did such a nice job.

GC: No, it doesn't. It looks stupid.

Me: Yeah, but it looks pretty stupid!

She laughed really hard. Gotta love a 5 year old with a good sense of humor.

I have to go make more coffee. Bye.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:47 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 I see the humor gets exponentially worse compared to the hours of sleep. However, if it makes GC laugh, your job is done my friend. Everyone is home? That's great news! Hang in there family RP.

Posted by: Wicked H at April 08, 2006 10:29 AM (BQhBn)

2 I am glad everyone is at home and happy. Have a happy Pesach!!!!

Posted by: Rachel Ann at April 08, 2006 04:30 PM (oig97)

3 God bless the little ones!

Posted by: Andrew Cusack at April 09, 2006 05:09 AM (kxskO)

4 I'm having flashbacks. Argh! The key is to be a deeper sleeper than the missus. Or at least to learn to fake it real well. ;-)

Posted by: Jim at April 10, 2006 05:21 AM (oqu5j)

5 I feel for ya, RP, I'm in the same boat. I thought to myself "I'm too old for this!" the first night that he screamed most of the night. Fortunate for me my wife has been taking the brunt of it: 3-5 hour gaps between feeding, the nights where nothing calms him. It's only a few months (hopefully) and I'm confident you can stand it. We've got a couple more to go and we may be seeing the home stretch. Then there's the constant eye and the chasing and the...

Posted by: Oorgo at April 12, 2006 11:37 AM (lM0qs)

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Here I sit. Quite tired, a beer filled glass at my feet, the baby monitors buzzing quietly behind me, my equally tired children sleeping upstairs, and a gigantic pile of clean newborn sized baby laundry that I washed in between assembling the cradle, going to the pharmacy, returning client phone calls and family phone calls, cleaning the new baby's room and sorting all his clothes, and visiting the wife and new child (who I still don't know what to call for my blog).

The Boy Child and Girl Child shared a picnic dinner on the floor of the Viking Bride's room tonight. They had McDonald Happy Meals, beloved of children everywhere, and the wife and I shared a celebratory meal that the hospital gives all new parents. Quite good actually (seriously), although if you give birth at Greenwich Hospital any of you out there, I urge you not to bother opening the bottle of NY State Champagne. Don't say I didn't warn you, ok?

Hopefully, the new guy will get released tomorrow from the NICU, where he has been kept as his blood sugar has not been stellar and he is still quite a tiny little fellow. I am optimistic that they will allow us to bring him home tomorrow. They kick the Viking Bride to the curb by 11:00.

Well, the mound of laundry ain't folding itself, so I must go.

Before I go, though, thank you all for this unexpected outpouring of support and happiness and good wishes and all the wonderful thoughts you all were sending our way. Even if it didn't influence the outcome (no way to know, of course but I figure it surely didn't hurt), it certainly touched my heart and I am terribly grateful. Thank you all so very much.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:24 PM | Comments (14) | Add Comment
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I came through the door last night into the kitchen and could see my family in the dining room, the room next to the kitchen. They were all playing on the floor. My wife, 8 months pregnant, was actually on the floor letting the kids take turns riding on her back. She didn't see me come in. The Boy Child announced my presence:

BC: Mamma! Is him!

Mamma: Hvem? (Who, in Norwegian)

BC: Him! Your friend Pappa!

I don't know why I thought that was so funny but I did. Maybe because it was interesting to see how his mind worked in terms of figuring out his mother's and my relationship.

In any event, later we read a story with the word "salute" in it and, if he remembers, I have him primed to go into his classroom today and say hello to his teachers by announcing: "Greetings and Salutations!" We'll see. Keep your fingers crossed.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:24 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 It worked well when my niece used the same greeting right after we finished reading Charlotte's Web together. I am sure the BC will not disappoint.

Posted by: Wicked H at March 30, 2006 10:59 AM (iqFar)

2 "Your friend, Pappa!" That's so alarmingly cute, I don't think I'll be able to function at my job today. AWWWWWW! I love the stories of your children, RP. :-) And Happy 1000 Blog! I remember ya way back when. Ye olden days o' blogging on blogspot. Heh. ;-)

Posted by: Amber at March 30, 2006 11:20 AM (zQE5D)

3 Your children just knock me off my feet.

Posted by: Jennifer at March 30, 2006 05:15 PM (jl9h0)

4 That is sweet and a testimony to your wonderful relationship. May you always be friends with your wife....

Posted by: Rachel Ann at March 31, 2006 01:59 AM (rkNfP)

5 LOLLLL!! My auntie still tells the story of my 15 year-old, when he was around four. My auntie came to visit with her long-time boyfriend. My son, who shared a room with his older brother, woke up and came into the kitchen asking her: "Where's yer brudder?" (I think you can follow his train of thought, here.) I love love loooove the innocence and simple yet brilliant turns of a child's mind. They have a way of cutting right through all pretense that I adore. Hug those babies, kiddo. And your wife, too. Make them hug you, twice. xoxo

Posted by: Margi at March 31, 2006 12:16 PM (BRtaN)

6 Awww, I also love the stories about your children! And did Boy Child salute his teacher? Anyway, good luck with everything - I'm sure it'll all come out all right.

Posted by: Hannah at April 05, 2006 01:01 AM (ImQx2)

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Before I dash off to Court for a hearing on a preliminary injunction, let me share the following, very quickly. We're in the car on Sunday and pull in to the gas station to fill the beast up. In front of us is an older guy who is getting back into his car, the driver door swung so wide open that we cannot move around him. So we wait while he re-enters his car. And we wait. And I comment, something along the lines of: C'mon Sparky, any slower and you'd be moving backwards! I'm none for my patience, you see.

And from the backseat, the Boy Child and the Girl Child, it was impossible to tell who began the chant, they sang out practically in unison, came, loudly:

Who let the dogs out?!?!?!

WHO, WHO??!!!??!! [last bit barked out like a dog]

You can't teach that kind of thing, you know. All you can do is share the rich cultural bounty that is our collective heritage and then rely on the wisdom of the 3 and 5 year old as to when it is appropriate to use it.

I'm so proud.

My wife and I laughed very hard.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:25 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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We spent much of Sunday going from our house in Connecticut to the birthday of the daughter of our college room mate in New Jersey. Between 3 and 4 hours of driving, all told. The kids were terrific in the car. Just fine.

The Girl Child sang to us almost the entire ride back, making up songs, performing them, and then quizzing us on what our favorite parts of her inventions were. At one point in the ride, the following transpired:

GC: Hey, Boy Child, you sing now while I have something to drink, ok?

BC: OK. [Sings as commanded]

GC: Great! Now, weÂ’re going to sing a rockinÂ’ song!

Me: You mean, like “Rockin’ Robin”? [Which I then went on to sing for her]

GC: No, Pappa. When I said rockinÂ’ song, I didnÂ’t mean a song that had rockinÂ’ in it; I meant a song that was groovinÂ’

Oh. Silly me. Where did she ever learn the word “groovin’”? She's only five.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:50 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 I thought "groovin'" went out in the 70's. Maybe she's 5 in dog years?

Posted by: grammarqueen at March 06, 2006 12:40 PM (glf8i)

2 That's hilarious, my guy likes saying "that's cool daddy!" The other day apparently on his own, he found out he could use the mirror to wipe his bum. In his own words "Make sure there no poop in there". I almost didn't believe that's what he said so I had to get him to repeat it. His mom phoned grandma she was so impressed, she thinks he's going to be the guy to cure cancer.

Posted by: Oorgo at March 06, 2006 11:50 PM (1JIkb)

3 I suspect it's the same place she learned "dirty deeds are done dirt cheap."

Posted by: Kathy at March 07, 2006 02:01 AM (zgB3S)

4 But, but, but Rockin' Robin' IS a groovin' song! Maybe you needed to drum the steering wheel a little harder!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 07, 2006 10:10 PM (G59Qu)

5 Groovin' is easy, as the Electric Flag used to sing!

Posted by: Mark at March 07, 2006 10:16 PM (qzDTG)

6 I just hear the girl child singing. I am experiencing it now and remeber when I did it with my sister.. These are your underated posts..

Posted by: dr pants at March 09, 2006 08:30 PM (glVUp)

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The Viking Bride was at the doctor today for her usual pre-natal checkup and she received some interesting news. Because of her medical complications, which I have not written about here, her doctor told her that he was going to do a planned induction for the baby's birth. This means that she's having the baby by appointment. Her labor by appointment is scheduled for April 21. Fortunately, I don't seem to have other plans for that day. But you never know what may crop up in the intervening days, of course. Still, I will endeavor to hold the day open.

Seriously, my wife is quite happy to at least have an outside date. Given her other pregnancies, this really is just an outside date and, well, you never know.

We still donÂ’t know what the new baby will be: boy or girl. IÂ’m kind of interested to find out, though. Ultimately, as long as the child is healthy I do not care a whit about what s/he has between the legs. Just be healthy. ThatÂ’s all I ask and I hope it isnÂ’t too much.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 02:16 PM | Comments (11) | Add Comment
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1 Lykk til!

Posted by: dr pants at March 03, 2006 02:43 PM (glVUp)

2 I was behind on my reading... but to hear that you're expecting another kid - congratulations! Good luck with everything!

Posted by: Hannah at March 03, 2006 02:49 PM (ImQx2)

3 I used to tell people that I wanted a boy or a girl, not a hermaphrodite. That response never really went over very well. Congrats & good luck, RP!

Posted by: grammarqueen at March 03, 2006 03:05 PM (Phwij)

4 Holy cow! That's just around the CORNER! How did this happen so fast?!?!?!

Posted by: Jennifer at March 03, 2006 05:49 PM (y4DOI)

5 Congrats! April 21st will be a good day!

Posted by: Bridget at March 03, 2006 05:58 PM (aot1k)

6 A fine date -- two days after my birthday! April 21 has much to recommend it. Best of luck in the stretch run!

Posted by: MCNS at March 04, 2006 01:17 PM (ShpyL)

7 Some people born on April 21st: Jan van Riebeeck -- Dutch founder of Cape Town, South Africa Catherine the Great -- Emporess of Russia Charlotte Bronte -- author of Jane Eyre John Muir -- Naturalist, explorer of Yosemite Anthony Quinn -- actor, Zorba The Greek Queen Elizabeth II -- Queen of the U.K. Elaine May -- comedienne (Wow, remember her?!) Charles Grodin -- actor, ummm... Ishtar! Iggy Pop -- rock n' ro-o-o-o-o-ll! Tony Danza -- actor, Taxi, She's The Boss Andie Macdowell -- actress, Groundhog Day Robert Smith -- musician and singer, The Cure Congrats, and I hope everthing goes swimmingly, RP!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 04, 2006 02:47 PM (Rki5A)

8 All will be well, my friend. April 21 is a good date; however, whichever day your child arrives will be a blessed day! ; )

Posted by: Christina at March 05, 2006 10:15 PM (zJsUT)

9 Your daughter/son's birthday will be a joyous one, they will be happy and healthy, I can feel it! Congratulations, and try not to explode from anticipation

Posted by: Oorgo at March 06, 2006 11:40 PM (1JIkb)

10 We haven't found out the sex of any children in advance and I've enjoyed having that bit of information spurring me on at the end. April is a lovely birth month. My birthday is a few days before the 21st. Best wishes as the momentous occasion approaches.

Posted by: Jordana at March 07, 2006 12:04 PM (F2YNr)

11 Congratulations! Overlooked this somehow!

Posted by: Mark at March 08, 2006 08:08 AM (z/PEu)

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Today, my angelic looking golden haired, green (they seem to be changing color) eyed boy turns three. He is very excited. "People come mine party?!?" Yes, people come his party. On Saturday.

I did an entry last year about his birthday and I doubt I can improve on it, so: The Birth of the Boy Child.

I'm leaving early today to take them all out for pizza, a child's best friend. Hopefully, I will not forget to get cupcakes.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 01:40 PM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
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1 Yay, the Big 3! Happy Birthday, BC!!!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at February 23, 2006 09:21 PM (JLnAx)

2 AWWW! Happy Birthday, Little Man!! Many, many happy returns of the day!!!

Posted by: Chrissy at February 23, 2006 09:50 PM (zJsUT)

3 Happy Birthday, BC!!! Hope there was lots of cake...or cupcakes, rather.

Posted by: Linda at February 24, 2006 03:20 AM (4gch1)

4 Yay!! Happy Birthday to the Boy Child.

Posted by: phin at February 24, 2006 01:26 PM (Xvpen)

5 Lookit Me! Today, I'm Three!! [Okay, I'd so totally make that poster if I had anything resembling HTML skillz.] Happy Birthday, BC!! Extra cupcakes and pizza for the birthday boy! Don't forget to get the extra snuggles, Dad. ;o) Love, "Aunt" Margi

Posted by: Margi at February 24, 2006 06:15 PM (p46pg)

6 Happy birthday I hope the party was big fun!

Posted by: Helen at February 25, 2006 03:28 AM (pUQ94)

7 Happy Belated to the BC! Woot! 3 is a fun age!

Posted by: Oorgo at February 25, 2006 09:47 PM (1JIkb)

8 Happy Belated Birthday, Boy Child!

Posted by: Mark at February 26, 2006 02:35 PM (+sgFd)

9 How were the cupcakes?

Posted by: Bridget at February 27, 2006 03:48 PM (aot1k)

10 Oh, I'm SOOOO late with this, but happy belated birthday to the Boy Child! YAY! Three is a very good year!

Posted by: Kathy at March 02, 2006 09:29 AM (zgB3S)

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If I get a chance later, I will blog about the lovely long weekend away with the Viking Bride. However, I may not get to it right away while this experience, this one I wanted to memorialize right away before any of the details faded.

The Boy Child has taken the word no, internalized it, and turned it around as his new mantra. Everything not involving candy/cookies/dessert is no. Everything. To say that this tests my patience, the little I have, is sometimes distressingly clear, despite my very best efforts. Last night, maybe, my efforts were not as good as they should have been and I snapped at him. Not loud and not hard and not mean, but I was certainly exasperated and short.

The Boy Child reminds me, at times, of our old Kuvasz. My wife will understand. The Kuvasz is a very sensitive animal. The Boy Child is a very sensitive animal. You have to be careful with both. You really have to pick your moments if you intend to yell at either one. Neither took it well. The Kuvasz would hide his 120 pound white furred body on the black couch. The Boy Child will burst into tears and seek his mother's arms. I know this.

After being short with him, he left the Girl Child's room, I was trying to get them both to bed, and sought out his mother's tender embrace. His mother is a bit exasperated with the constant "nei, nei, nei" (no in Norwegian) that she gets, too. I got the Girl Child into bed. Good. I went in to collect the Boy Child from his mother because the Viking Bride can't really lift him so easily in this the sixth month of her pregnancy.

At his mother's urging, he apologized for his earlier disobedience, which I had actually kind of forgotten about, especially since I was just sort of a little ticked and not really angry before. I told him it was ok and that I forgave him and I thanked him for saying he was sorry. Then I picked him up to cuddle him while my wife went to bid good night to the Girl Child (who, by the way, knowing that her mother's back bothers her, untucks herself to stand on the bed to receive her good night hug and kiss so that her mother does not have to bend down to give them).

After we cuddled, I put him down to sleep. The room was dark, lit only by the nightlight. He lay with his head on the baby blanket he uses for a pillow, having rejected all other pillows but the blanket my mother knit for him. I stroked his fine and golden hair and told him that I loved him and, as I ran my fingers through his head, he told me the following:

You hurt mine feelings.

Me: I know, honey, and I'm so sorry.

BC: Not nice, make people sad.

I know it isn't. And years from now, when you read this, it will be more than ok for you to know that when you told me that I hurt your feelings, I had to choke back a sob. It was a very close thing as to whether I was going to cry.

So, an important reminder, words to live by, whatever: Not nice, make people sad.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:41 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
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1 I, too, choked back a sob just then. Out of the mouths of babes, hey?

Posted by: Margi at February 07, 2006 03:02 PM (nwEQH)

2 So poignant! Almost makes me cry. Treasure the moments, RP!

Posted by: grammarqueen at February 07, 2006 03:56 PM (Phwij)

3 It seems you and I are going through similar things, during the time when my wife was in the hospital with Griffin, Xavier was staying at his grandparents. 2 or 3 nights into it he came to visit Mommy and baby at the hospital, I made the mistake of telling him I would come pick him up that night, but got caught up with helping at the hospital and didn't realize the time until it was midnight. The next day I found out he had stood at the window holding his tigger and waiting for me for quite some time. I broke down at the time and I still tear up about it. You're going to watch what you say to him, as I am to my little one, I think we forget sometimes how young they are. And that they think about every word they hear, and they usually hear them all even if they don't seem to be listening.

Posted by: Oorgo at February 08, 2006 02:20 AM (1JIkb)

4 ~sob~

Posted by: Mia at February 08, 2006 06:41 AM (UXs1Y)

5 Ok, so I don't have kids. And I know the "No" phase is something that nearly all kids go through, so getting angry at him is about as useful as getting angry at an infant for pooping, but... setting limits and not letting him get away with "No" constantly is a good thing, even if it hurts his feelings sometimes. Of course, choose your battles wisely. Don't you love unasked-for-advice from the peanut gallery?

Posted by: owlish at February 08, 2006 11:05 PM (UoYpV)

6 RP, that is precious. It should be on a plaque on everyone's wall. I am very forgetful, but somehow I think what I've just read here is going to stick with me for the rest of my life.

Posted by: Roberta S at February 09, 2006 01:40 AM (i1tox)

7 Wow, apparently Owlish thinks we should limit our comments to "Oooing" and "Awwing" over your posts, RP. I was simply passing on my own story, as a regular commenter. But hey, I'm apparently just a peanut so what do I know? I know peanut butter tastes good and is a well addition to jam or vice versa.

Posted by: Oorgo at February 09, 2006 03:25 PM (lM0qs)

8 Oorgo, I don't take it that way at all and I am not sure you should either. I loved your story and was quite happy you elected to share it. It was sweet and didactic at the same time. An excellent combination. No, I took Owlish's advice as it was meant. He's a shrink (or soon to be one, I forget) and not likely to have kids anytime soon. I think his comment about peanut gallery was entirely self-referential. Besides, Peanut Butter tastes best from a spoon dipped right into the jar. Especially if you can nibble on some dark chocolate at the same time.

Posted by: RP at February 09, 2006 03:31 PM (LlPKh)

9 Yeah yer probably right RP, I have a tendency to think I'm the center of the universe and everyone is talking about me. Maybe it's paranoia, or maybe everyone IS really out to get me.

Posted by: Oorgo at February 09, 2006 05:10 PM (lM0qs)

10 RP, that was so heartfelt I had tears in my eyes at the end. Well. We all hurt our children without meaning to at times. It cannot be helped and it will probably happen again despite your best efforts. I still remember to my great shame snapping at little Lucy when she was 2 or 3 (4?). I'd taken her to an ladies only event I'd been invited to and it was really an adults only event. I did not realize there would be no children before I went, but I tried to make the best of it after we arrived and I told little Lucy she must be on her best behavior. Mostly because all the women there were older, wealthier women I admired and worked with. Their age, position and education in our community was much higher than mine at that time. I was the youngest at 24 or so and I really wanted to impress everyone. I was very anxious about this. Lucy tried to be good, but she was so little and after awhile she got bored and got all giggly and was running about. Finally, she knocked something over and I realized it had been a mistake to bring her. Everyone got quiet and stared. I took her hand, told her to be still and announced we were going. I said goodbye to everyone and we went to the car. I was very upset in the car, I felt I'd made a fool out of myself. Although it wasn't Lucy's fault, I was angry at her for not behaving. Yeah, I know; stupid and selfish of me. Lucy was perplexed, wanted to know why we were leaving so abruptly and why was mommy upset and I snapped at her and told her it was because she was running around and acting badly. She burst into tears. And I felt like the most shallow, most horrible, most awful mother in the world. To hurt my daughter because I wanted to impress a bunch of women who I felt had something more than I did. Women who for the most part, I ended up not having much respect for anyway. As you can see that was at least 25 years ago and I've still never forgotten it. Although, here's the thing, RP...*Lucy* has completely forgotten. And so will BC. :-)

Posted by: Amber at February 11, 2006 02:58 PM (zQE5D)

11 Oops, sorry, Oorgo, RP was right, my "Peanut Gallery" comment was supposed to refer to me, not everyone else. I'm somewhat contrary, so when I learned that 95% of people make peanut butter and jelly sandwiches by putting the peanut butter on the bread first, I tried the opposite. In this case, it looked like everyone was empathizing with the Boy Child. I read the post, and saw a father who was feeling guilty because he had been angry at his son and made him sad. And I don't know how reasonable that guilty feeling is. I have a godson who is 4 1/2, who for the past year, year and a half has been testing nearly every limit in his life. I gave him a bath last week, and first the water was too cold, and then it was too hot. I ended up giving him his bath with him standing up in the tub, with him ranging from sniffling to crying loudly. I felt a little bad, but got through the bath. Later on his father commented that it seemed to be nearly all bedtime delaying tactics- when going out to play the kid is remarkably temperature insensitive. So, not nice, make people sad. But, unfortunately, sometimes it's the parent's job. And unfortunately, if you're human, when you make someone else sad it may make you sad too.

Posted by: owlish at February 12, 2006 10:56 PM (ueWi5)

12 That was so sweet. I almost cried too! Yes, Those truly are words to live by.

Posted by: AW at February 14, 2006 04:16 PM (mata/)

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