This morning, she came bounding into the kitchen where once again I was reading the paper and having my coffee. She immediately noted the presence of the Pez dispensers I picked up at the store yesterday to include within the goody bags for the Boy Child's little birthday party today. She asked what they were and I told her. She picked it up for closer examination and sort of mused to herself:

These look very interesting to a little kid like myself.

I had to bury my face in my newspaper so that she did not see me struggling to contain my laughter.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:30 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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As most of you regular readers may know (all eight of you), this blog has grown to be an extended love letter to my children, among all the other things I write about. Here is a conversation I had with my daughter yesterday morning:

Girl Child comes into kitchen: Holy crap!

Me: What did you say?

GC: Holy crap.

Me: Where did you learn that?

GC: Sponge Bob.

Me: Well, Sponge Bob got it wrong. Its holy crackers.

GC: Holy crackup?

Me: You could say that, too. In any event, I'd be very careful and not listen to what Sponge Bob says.

GC: Why?

Me: Clearly, he is inherently unreliable. [Remember, she just turned 4]

GC: Why do you think that?

Me: Well, perhaps I don't exactly think it. It isn't quite a thought, more the merest shadow of a scintilla of the beginning of a thought concerning his reliability as a source for you.

Wife: How much coffee have you had this morning? Because I don't think you should have any more.

GC: What's a scintilla?

Me: Go look it up in the dictionnary and report back.

GC: [looking at her mother and speaking Norwegian] Pappa's a very silly man, isn't he?

No one else may find this amusing, but that's ok. Maybe you had to be there.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 06:51 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
Post contains 211 words, total size 1 kb.

1 It's very amusing. You have beautiful kids RP, and your an awesome Dad I wish I had a dad like you.

Posted by: holly at February 27, 2005 09:36 AM (3SP8e)

2 I did have a dad like you. I got a pretty good verbal SAT score because of him. ;-)

Posted by: nic at February 27, 2005 10:42 AM (etHvD)

3 Classic!

Posted by: Andrew Cusack at February 27, 2005 07:04 PM (KWqwc)

4 Scintillatingly silly! What I want to know is, did Spoinge Bob really say "Holy Crap"?

Posted by: Mark at February 28, 2005 05:06 PM (96b3f)

5 By the way, "dictionary" is spelled with one "n", not two! Gotcha!

Posted by: Mark at February 28, 2005 05:08 PM (96b3f)

6 Aw, crap! "Sponge" is spelled without an "i"!

Posted by: Mark at February 28, 2005 05:09 PM (96b3f)

7 I loved it! Very cute and funny, as always, RP. :-) And Mark, I wouldn't be surprised if Sponge Bob says "crap" on the show. I know my best friend won't let her kids watch it because she doesn't like the language. Oh, and btw...LMAO at you catching RP's spelling error and then typing out "Spoinge". AHHAHAHAHAA! Classic! *grins*

Posted by: Amber at February 28, 2005 10:18 PM (zQE5D)

8 Sheesh, and here, for once, I was going to give RP a pass on the typo because the story was so cute, when all you eager beavers pounced. My work here is done.

Posted by: GrammarQueen at March 02, 2005 12:21 PM (kqNmk)

9 Pride goeth before the fall.

Posted by: Mark at March 02, 2005 01:27 PM (96b3f)

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I don't think I will be around much today, blog-wise. I have been duly elected by my wife to accompany the Boy Child to his two year check up, oil change, and tune up at the doctor this morning. This should be fun. My guess is he's going to know exactly what the nurse wants to do with that sharp looking thing headed towards his . . . HEY!!!!! Crying to follow shortly with sobbing and attempting to catch breath thereafter. And that's only me.

I hate to watch these kinds of things. I could never watch when my wife would get blood taken, for instance.

Ugh.

I will fill the time up to the appointment by continuing my search through Southern Westchester's finer purveyors of alcohol to try to locate a particular bottle of white port for my wife. She often has a glass after the kids have gone to bed and we have been out for at least a week. Ever tried it? Its yummy. You serve it cold and generally it is an apperitif, not an after dinner drink.

In any event, the above blather generally is meant to serve as a place holder to explain that blogging will be very light today, although you may not be able to tell the difference between today and recent times anyway, come to think of it.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 07:51 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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My wife will be the first one to tell you this, but she sucks at being pregnant. I think I'm acutally quoting her here. No, she is an immensely talented woman and I am very proud that, in a moment of extreme weakness, she agreed to pledge her troth to me (isn't that a fun expression?) but she really isn't any good at being pregnant.

With the second pregnancy, she fell prey to pregnancy induced hypertension. This is an ugly condition, potentially fatal to her and potentially fatal to the pregnancy. More than once, we were confronted with the possibility of losing the baby. We made a couple of late night emergency trips to the hospital after a phone consultation with her doctor. Those drives were tense affairs even if they took on a certain regular occurance feel to them. I remember that I made arrangements with the snow plowing people who did our driveway to keep us at the top of their list all that winter because I was afraid that if something happened, I would not be able to get out of the garage and get her to help.

In any event, February 22, 2003 was a day much like every other in the pregnancy. Except that my wife's blood pressure shot up again for no reason that morning. We called the doctor and we followed the instructions to try to bring it down. She lay, on her right side (I think) for a half an hour, and it didn't come down. We grabbed a bag and went off to the hospital. On the way, my wife took a call from one of her underlings and went through what needed to be done that day. I then called a client for whom I convinced a court to enjoin a meeting of the shareholders of a co-op to prevent dissolution and explained I would be out of touch for awhile.

The hospital, NY Hospital at 68th and the East River, was bustling but they were expecting us. They took blood and ran tests and said, something is brewing. They said, at 37 weeks into the pregnancy, we can induce labor and we want to induce labor because we don't like what we are seeing. Preeclampsia kills, you see.

So, bang. The routine trip back to the hospital was not so routine, although I think we suspected that on the way in. They admitted my wife and began the induction.

It went very, very slowly. Nothing happened for the longest time. Eventually, they instructed me to go away and get some sleep. I went to a nearby club and crashed from about midnight to maybe 5 a.m. and then went back to the hospital. I was still in the same clothes I had been in the night before. On the way back, I stopped off and picked up a disposable camera.

The delivery, as it turned out, was quick. I think that she started pushing at 7:30 a.m. and the Boy Child arrived in the world at 7:40, a scant ten minutes later. He was so little.

The doctor assured us that he was beautiful, although, I doubt she'd really say otherwise. The doctor, who had also delivered the Girl Child, pumped her fist and exclaimed: "two for two!". She also asked us to have a third child so she could go three for three. In that, I'm afraid, we will disappoint her.

The Boy Child arrived to join our little family on February 23, 2003, today, two years ago. He arrived small, a little jaundiced, but that just gave him a lovely tan, and quite bald but with the most shockingingly blue eyes you've ever seen. Looks nothing like me. Today, he has hair, butter yellow blond, a peaches and cream complexion, and still has the blue eyes. He is, altogether, quite the most beautiful little boy I've ever seen and looks remarkably like my wife's baby pictures. He could be, with no evidence of my genetic contribution anywhere on his face, the official poster boy of Norway.

We brought him home and put him in my daughter's lap as she sat on the couch. He cried and she looked terribly perplexed. It didn't take long before she was telling us, while standing in her crib: "Baby brother is crying, get him for me."

I will end this birthday post with this thought that my daughter had one day while she and I were talking:

Me: You know, that the Boy Child is my son.

GC: He's my son, too.

Me: No, he's your brother. He's my son.

GC: Well, then if he's your sun, he's my moon. And my stars.

I've always liked that.

Welcome to the world, Boy Child! Happy birthday!

(after the jump, by the way, in extended entry, are some other famous birthdays and events today) more...

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:53 AM | Comments (11) | Add Comment
Post contains 1099 words, total size 6 kb.

1 A very happy birthday to the Boy Child!!! Great story, scary but happy ending.

Posted by: Wicked H at February 23, 2005 11:35 AM (iqFar)

2 I swear that you have THE most adorable children. Happy birthday, Boy Child!

Posted by: C at February 23, 2005 02:33 PM (Ds4xI)

3 Happy B-day Boy Child! Hey, I'm just curious, but, uh, when is the Nanny's birthday? :-)

Posted by: Howard at February 23, 2005 03:30 PM (X88j1)

4 Oh my god, Random...when I read what the GC said, tears jumped up and STUNG my eyes! Painful..I mean, beautiful, but.. Oh my god. :::huge sighs::: You know, just this morning I was talking (again!) to Dan about the grandkids. You know, the ones that don't exist because my kids are too stubborn to have any for my sake? ;-) Anyway, I said, "When Little Zoe or Zack come to spend the night, we'll...blah blah" and Dan just burst out laughing. You see, those are the names Dan had picked for kids in case he ever had any. Long, long ago before he decided he wouldn't be a good dad after all and got snipped. He said, "AMBER! I can see right now where this is going; you are going to look at the grandkids and think, 'We can pretend they are ours when they come over, kinda, sorta.'" Ay-yi yi...well...I guess he caught me. I guess I do live vicariously through other parents' experiences to a certain extent. That's okay...I got to do it for real once and it was the BEST! :-)

Posted by: Amber at February 23, 2005 04:20 PM (zQE5D)

5 Amber told me to come and read this post because it was so beautiful. She was right, just gorgeous and it made me get all teary when your little girl said "Well, then if he's your sun, he's my moon. And my stars." Sometimes children say so perfectly the things we mean, even when we don't know we mean them. Just beautiful. Warm fuzzy feelings to you and your family and especially your darling birthday boy.

Posted by: Sarah at February 23, 2005 04:44 PM (YYwoL)

6 Felicem diem Natalem!

Posted by: Mandalei at February 23, 2005 05:04 PM (PibH1)

7 happy birthday boy child! and i echo the other sentiments concerning your post. girl child...does it again.

Posted by: standing naked at February 23, 2005 10:16 PM (IAJcf)

8 A very happy birthday to the little scamp. You're going to need to figure out how to make digital movies soon for your audience's pleasure. ;-)

Posted by: Jim at February 24, 2005 06:57 AM (MDLz3)

9 Hope it was a fun and happy one for all!

Posted by: michele at February 24, 2005 01:21 PM (ht2RK)

10 Thanks for all the great comments, y'all. The day was properly marked by some small presents and a raspberry and chocolate cake.

Posted by: RP at February 24, 2005 06:04 PM (X3Lfs)

11 You might be interested to know that Most Beautiful Grandchild In The World™ was born on February 24, 2004. So, early or not, the best kids are born around this date.

Posted by: Margi at February 25, 2005 02:26 AM (zalxZ)

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My little post about the way my two children hold hands in the car received some really beautiful comments and seemed, for whatever reason, to resonate with people. So, as much for those nice people who left those comments, as for myself so I can fix this memory firmly in my mind, let me share with you a little vignette from last night.

I came home from work and I took the kids from the nanny. She had bathed them and put them in their pj's. They were running around up stairs. Playing and carrying on happily. I went into my room to take my suit and tie off. Generally, I like to get out of the work clothes as soon as I get home so I can get on the floor and roll around with the kids without worrying about the clothes. The Boy Child followed me in. As with everything else, all things being equal, he was moving at a speed just above what he can safely control. And, as is usually the case, he went sprawling on to my floor, face first. He caught himself on his hands and kind of lay there, crying.

I said to him, "you're ok", and "come on, get up and show me what hurts". I could see that there was nothing that could have been too serious about the fall and, as is my habit, I didn't want to make too big a deal out of it. He ignored me for a bit, continuing to cry, and then he got up and pointed to his hands.

At that point, his sister came in. The Girl Child is tall for her age and he is on the normal side. His head comes up to about the top of her rib cage. She asked what was wrong and I told her. And this is the bit I want to freeze forever in my mind.

She holds her arms out to him and says "kom til meg, lille venn" (meaning: come to me, little friend). He takes three steps, very quickly, and throws his arms around her and lays his head on her chest as he continues to cry. She enfolds him with her arms and alternates between rubbing his back and patting him gently on the back, all while telling him that it was ok. They just stood there, her giving comfort and him receiving it. His cries slowly faded away to little hiccups as his breath caught in little gasps as he tried to recover his poise and stop crying. All while she stood there with him. Their arms around each other, his around her waist and lower back and hers around his upper back. Her head inclined so that her cheek was resting on the top of his head. Bathed in the glow from the over head lights, their hair gleamingly damp from the water.

It was so beautiful that I thought my heart was going to break.

When they finished their hug, he leaned forward and kissed her on her chest.

It is moments like this that enrich my life.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:49 AM | Comments (12) | Add Comment
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My children are not like my sister and me. They are close, already, in ways that my sister and I never experienced. I am a tad bit envious. The Girl Child's name is the first word that passes the Boy Child's lips every morning and, indeed, was the first word he even learned how to say. She was the recipient of his first real kiss. I got to see it. He put his lips to her cheek and actually made a kissing noise. She tells us that when they get older, she intends to marry him. My wife assumes that means we have to move way down South.

I've gotten some little boy kisses, too, now, and they are terribly sweet things. Even better then when he would simply press his open and very wet mouth against the side of your face and leave behind a huge slick of saliva.

But here's the really cute thing.

We put them in the car, each in their own car seats, and the same thing happens almost every single time. Her arm goes out, hand open, palm up. His hand goes into it. And they both sit back and relax into their seats. They hold hands most of the ride to wherever it is we are taking them. If he is too slow with his hand, then we hear the Girl Child say, "Boy Child, give me your hand" (usually in Norwegian). And he does.

I feel unusually blessed, almost all the time.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:02 AM | Comments (13) | Add Comment
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I can make my daughter laugh her way out of crying. It is a gift, there is no question about it. I can take her right off the edge of the hysterical ledge to calm and laughing in under 5 seconds. I don't know how this came about, but as long as it works, I will continue to do it. Case in point, last night. As you know, from below, she has got pink eye. It makes her eyes hurt she says and she is very unhappy. When we put her into bed last night, she noticed that I switched out her little pillows for a big one from the guest room bed. Not happy, not happy. I had to explain that she could re-infect herself from her old pillows since she had her head on them. "Not my head", she corrected me, "my face". Right. She puts her golden little head on the pillow and consents to be covered up with the blanket. And then the tears come.

GC: I want my old pillows back! I don't like this [sob] pillow! Its [sob] too hard! [more sobbing as she begins to work herself up]

Me: Good! I want it to be hard! I want you to have the hardest, most uncomfortable pillow in the whole world!!

GC: [stops crying, starts to giggle] Huh? You do? For real?

Me: Yes! For real!

GC: No, you don't mean for real.

Me: [take pillow, fluff it up six different ways and put it back down] Try that.

GC: Ok. Still kind of hard [suspiciously], but better [grudgingly].

Kisses exchanged and off to the land of nod she goes, calmly and happily.

Thank goodness she enjoys the absurd. Absurdity, a parent's best weapon against tears.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:24 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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1 I've also found that showing awe and jelousy over scrapes and bruises to be very effective. "Wow! Look at that knee! That is AWESOME! How'd you do it? I want to try!" We don't get boo-boos at my house. We get Man Marks.

Posted by: Jim at February 11, 2005 12:18 PM (tyQ8y)

2 well jim...that is advice i needed. thank you. as for the laughing from crying thing.... yes it is a gift.

Posted by: standing naked at February 11, 2005 04:27 PM (IAJcf)

3 I've made the mistake of feeling sorry when Xavier falls and stuff (I'm a new parent ok?) and each time it turned out way worse than the times where I said "Oops! Hee Hee!" or something of the sort.

Posted by: Oorgo at February 11, 2005 05:13 PM (lM0qs)

4 I love the way you love your daughter, Random. :-)

Posted by: Amber at February 11, 2005 06:46 PM (zQE5D)

5 Sweet!

Posted by: Hannah at February 12, 2005 12:01 PM (7dELN)

6 When I read your stories about your daughter and you it makes me wish we had decided to have children. OK, ALMOST wish! I still stand by our decision, even though we enjoy our friends and family members' children immensely.

Posted by: Mark at February 12, 2005 07:10 PM (zJsVP)

7 She is so loved!!! My dh always takes the kids on trips to the (insert body part) store.

Posted by: Rachel Ann at February 13, 2005 02:22 PM (Q4q41)

8 I'm finding my reverse technique is paying off: "Whatever you do, do NOT laugh right now. Come here young lady, I can see you smiling. Now stop it!" Never fails to get them giggling. If only they took me seriously!

Posted by: Simon at February 14, 2005 02:52 AM (OyeEA)

9 One of my fondest memories with my nephew was when he was about four years old. My sister and brother-in-law had a scary-looking "monster" (statue) that they kept in the attic. Nephew Boy loved/feared the thing. One evening he wanted to see it. "It's too late," his father told him. He began to fret. Then he began to cry "Please, please, I wanna see the monster...!" His parents were sitting on the couch and he laid on the floor sobbing. "But **sob** I wanna see the monster..." he sniffled and looked at me, good ol' Uncle Bobby, for help. I looked him in the eye for a moment then "BOO!!!" He was startled... then confused... Then he burst out giggling. Suddenly he was happy. Probably mainly 'cause no one was ignoring him anymore. It had gone from "No" to "Yes" in a split second! No, you can't see the monster right now, but, yes, yes, yes, you can laugh at my funny faces! If you deny a child something that they dearly want, and they don't understand why it's being denied, offer them something else in it's stead. They may not understand why what they wanted was denied, but they'll understand, as they already trust, that you aren't out to deny them what they want for the sake of deny them what they want, but to give them what they need. They really do, they really do, they honestly do know that they're just kids, y'know. They expect you to teach them both possibilities and bounderies.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at February 16, 2005 01:19 AM (DixqM)

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The house is in lock down. We have been quarantined. Infectious disease specialists have been flown in all over the world to consult. Diagnosis: Pink Eye.

The Girl Child has come down with a case of the dreaded pink eye. No one is safe. She can't go to school and the Boy Child may not go to music class today, which is sad because I think he really enjoys it.

Prognosis: She'll be totally fine and can go to school tomorrow if she doesn't have any further discharge from the infected eye.

But, while looking on the web to see if I could find any information on precautions to take to prevent contagion, I came across this little bit of information which kind of icked me out:

Newborns are also susceptible to infectious conjunctivitis, which can be serious. The sexually transmitted bacteria Chlamydia trachomatis and Neisseria gonorrhoeae can pass from an infected mother's birth canal into her baby's eyes during delivery. These bacteria can cause symptoms of conjunctivitis in babies within the first 2 weeks of life, and both can lead to serious eye damage. Less commonly, the viruses that cause genital and oral herpes can similarly be passed to an infant at the time of delivery and may also damage the eyes.

My view is, if I'm gonna be icked out, you're gonna be icked out. Its that simple.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:43 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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We allowed the Girl Child to stay up late last night so she could hang out with her mother and me and because we've been thinking that we may actually be putting her to bed a little too early.

So, after she got an extra two stories read to her, and we're cuddling on the couch, she looks up at me and we have the following exchange:

GC: [tone: soft, slow, sweet] Pappa, I love you.

Me: [heart expands, threatens to choke me]

GC: [tone: quick and definite, commanding] But don't tell anyone!

Me: [trying not to laugh] Why not? Why can't I tell anyone?

GC: Because its a secret and we don't tell secrets.

What is is with little girls and secrets?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:19 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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1 Ah. That RP is the test to see if you are up for the task of far better and more important secrets to come..... Please, don't disrespect the code.

Posted by: Wicked H at February 01, 2005 12:36 PM (iqFar)

2 Because women like to think of themselves as mysterious. Even when we aren't. :-)

Posted by: Amber at February 01, 2005 02:47 PM (zQE5D)

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