The Boy Child has plenty of words, but he never uses them in combination, never forms a sentence. I have not really formed a view as to his intellect. I mean, he seems to be all there but who can tell? This weekend changed that. By way of background, his maternal grandmother, (mor mor, in Norwegian), lives in Central America right now and speaks perfect Spanish. When the Boy Child, who is just barely two years old, says her name, he pronounces it as "moo moo". Not uncommon for little Norwegian children to say that, I'm told. By way of comparison, he now calls my father, "dude". My father loves that.

So, we were all sitting around the dinner table, playing around, singing the Sesame Street song, when I turned to the Boy Child and we had the following exchange:

Me: Donde esta Plaza Sesamo?

BC: Moo Moo. [as if to say, go ask Moo Moo].

Me: [stunned silence as my wife and I look at each other and I say to my wife] Was that an accident? Do you think he did that on purpose?

Wife: I have no idea.

Me: [to boy child] Hvem er det som snakker Spansk? [translation from Norwegian: who is it who speaks Spanish?]

BC: [confidently, shaking his head for emphasis] Moo moo.

If I had any doubts about him, they are gone as of now. Da Boy is all there.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:47 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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1 Multi-lingual children have a different language acquisition curve than mono-linguals. However, studies have shown that by the age of 5 they are incredibly fast at learning additional languages and are able to retain and process more information than mono-lingual children. You just may have a little Einstein on your hands... the quiet, shy, observant, retiring type.

Posted by: michele at March 28, 2005 06:04 PM (ht2RK)

2 Hmmm. Michele might be onto something. The shaking of the head for emphasis might be frustration that you've asked him such a simple question as if to say "Yo, dude. Do not patronize me!" Heh. BTW, and just from my own memories of growing up, I think that "Do you understand?" is a horrible question to be asked in any context. If a kid doesn't get it s/he'll say "Huh?!". Asking it will usually be taken as either an insult or an assault, depending on the context. But, maybe that's just me...

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 28, 2005 10:51 PM (SmuPE)

3 I have no statistics to give you; but I'll just say that it's been my experience that up until about age five, they're sponges. In fact, I spoke perfect -- without a hint of an accent -- Spanish at age 5 with a woman hired to take care of me and my little brother. We were forced into other arrangements and went to a daycare situation. I no longer can speak Spanish like a native. (I can, however, understand far more than I can speak which, is an advantage of sorts. Heh.) I never had a doubt your BC was as whip-smart as your GC. It's good genes, buddy. Good genes.

Posted by: Margi at March 29, 2005 03:37 AM (lWAiX)

4 I've found from both experience and observation that the second child in the family often isn't as verbally motivated as the first-born. After all, if the first-born can talk for them, (and first borns *love* to talk for their sibs, don't they?) why bother? *grins* Has zip to do with intelligence. My son let his sister talk for him for a very long time. He's now 23 and, believe me, he has grown into one of the smartest people I've ever had the privilege to know. My brother didn't walk for a very long time. Why? Everyone carried him about; why bother? Finally he got so large, my mom couldn't cart him about so easily anymore so one day he just stood up and walked over to whatever it was he wanted, much to everyone's shock. And he just kept walking after that. When he got to school, he tested with a 165 IQ. Today he is an accomplished musician and has been very successful. My Dan, the second-born in his family, didn't talk at all until he was three years old. Again, he had an older sister who had filled in for him when necessary. Dan also has a high IQ and I know you've read his blog; he's an articulate guy today. :-) Sounds like Da Boy is more than "all there" to me. :-)

Posted by: Amber at March 29, 2005 02:33 PM (zQE5D)

5 That's a great story, he sounds very smart indeed. My little guy surprises us all the time, and he's exactly like BC, he gets frustrated if you can't understand him, or ask him if he understands, or repeat something that he knows to him. Yesterday he made us laugh, I asked him where his bottle was he said "In the place I go ny ny". He's 2 1/2 but he knows where all his stuff is, unless of course someone has moved it on him.

Posted by: Oorgo at March 30, 2005 12:58 PM (lM0qs)

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Yes, that's right. The bloom is off the rose. I will illustrate by relating the following conversation this morning:

Girl Child: [throws her socks up in the air in the kitchen while I have my coffee and NY Times]

Me: Don't throw things around in the kitchen.

GC: Why not?

Me: Because the kitchen is probably the most dangerous room in the house.

GC: Why?

Me: Because there are things that could burn you here, things that could cut you, things that you could knock over and . . . [GC walks out]

Wife in dining room: What was Pappa saying to you?

GC to wife: I don't know, something about the kitchen. [tone, according to my wife, like a 13 year old]

Remember, she just turned four. I am so screwed.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:14 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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1 *LOL* at least you realise already. I think it came as a total shock to my father.

Posted by: Mia at March 13, 2005 08:33 AM (yLho4)

2 Oh NOOOOO! Better get your attitude going right back! Just wait until the teen years hit!

Posted by: Mark at March 13, 2005 05:14 PM (AvjW+)

3 *snickersnort*

Posted by: Margi at March 14, 2005 07:18 AM (lWAiX)

4 Yes you are! *grins* What fun, eh? ;-)

Posted by: Amber at March 14, 2005 11:41 AM (zQE5D)

5 Yeah... I feel the exact same, yesterday my 2 year old told me he doesn't like me anymore, because I turned off his Thomas the Train DVD. Of course the grudge only lasted about 15 minutes, but still...

Posted by: Oorgo at March 14, 2005 01:34 PM (lM0qs)

6 LOL, smart as a whip and full of spunk! You are in for it!!!!

Posted by: Rachel Ann at March 15, 2005 04:01 AM (TgJbS)

7 Maybe you're just getting it now and she'll be over it by then? What if the second one is just as "spunky"? Then you'll really have your hands full!

Posted by: Hannah at March 15, 2005 03:01 PM (7dELN)

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The nanny is gone for most of the week. Yesterday, my mother hosted the kids and will again on Friday. Today, however, I stayed home from work to be primary caregiver. It was like playing house, it was/is that much fun. The kids are napping right now, that's why I can write for a minute.

It has also been a huge tease -- showing me what my life could be like if I was independently wealthy and I didnÂ’t have to work outside the house. Showing me how much fun my kids are, even if it is hard work.

I got them both up, gave them breakfast, played, loaded them into the car and took the Girl Child off to school. On the way, I changed the radio station from the crap pop that the nanny listens to and found some very nice jazz. I asked the Girl Child if she liked it and she said she did so we played a game trying to name the instruments. She claimed that one of them was a “Flutootle”. Clearly a flute, in her mind. It was a bass, actually, but that’s ok. We dropped her off where I, the only dad there that day, was absolutely snubbed by all the stay at home moms. That was ok, too. Sort of. I mean, I knew some of them from various birthday parties even if I was not a part of their daily school routine. But I expected more of a hello and maybe that was expecting too much. Whatever. My kids were cuter (damn, that was petty).

Then the Boy Child and I, after he gave his sister something like 6 kisses, headed off to a really good liquor store in Scarsdale in search, still, of white port for my wife. No success there but picked up a half a case of some really yummy looking assorted Italian and Spanish reds. And a bottle of Fino Sherry for my wife as an attempt at a substitute. The Boy Child got to stand the whole time in the shopping cart and was just happy to be there. We went home with our booze, changed diapers, and headed off to music class!

Yay, music class! That was the first one I got to take him to. One nice thing, though, was that everyone said that we had a lovely nanny. Music class was great. I donÂ’t know how to describe it particularly, but can say that I was again the only daddy. This time, at least, people talked to me. The Boy Child seemed to like having me there. He was regularly running across the room to me and launching himself at me. He enjoyed going to get the instruments and then putting them away. He didnÂ’t sing, but thatÂ’s not a shock since he doesnÂ’t really talk. The tambourines were a big hit, so to speak, and ring around the rosy was also quite a favorite. Let me say that for me, the whole experience was sublime. I think I was just glowing, watching him, cuddling with him on the floor, pushing my face into his hair when he threw himself into my lap. There was no part of this class I did not love.

After class, we ran over to the library for a bit, but didnÂ’t find the book I was looking for, the new Charles Todd mystery. Already checked out. Ah, well.

Then, lunch. We belong to a little club out here and went there since there was a buffet on Thursdays and that is always good with young ones, no waiting for food. He ate all the salmon I took for myself, some fruit, and was thus rewarded with cookies, again. This time without trickery, Tuning Spork! Although, I did get to watch him prove that every cookie, no matter what the dimensions, is actually a single serving, bite size cookie. Crumbs were flying out of his mouth with every bite since his mouth was so full he couldnÂ’t actually close it! That brought out the flying, diving napkin. We ate, we played hide and seek at the table, he shared the fish stickers he got at music class by pasting them on my shirt, too. Everyone in the dining room, mostly older woman, smiled at him. He does look like an angel and a good mood is infectious.

After lunch, a little shopping and then off to fetch his sister. He was so anxious to see her that he disrupted the class departure routine where a teacher sends each child out, one by one, into the hands of the appointed caregiver. Nope, not this time. This time, the Boy Child pushed past the teacher in the doorway, shouting his sisterÂ’s name until he found her and got his hug and kiss. Then, hand in hand, the two of them exited the class room and off we came home for naps. Their naps, not mine.

Anyway, IÂ’m off to prepare dinner for them so that they can eat when they get up. I am Mr. Domestic Guy today and loving it.

Tomorrow comes too soon and brings with it a return to the office life, the brief writing, the telephone, and the rude letters. Except, this time IÂ’ll know how much better I could be having it if I was home with my kids.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:14 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment
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I don't have much here about my son. He's only two and he doesn't really talk, certainly not like his sister. But he did something so funny to me the other night that I wanted to make sure I wrote it down and didn't forget it. As I said earlier, we took my mother out for dinner for her birthday. After dinner, there was a dessert table. The Boy Child may not speak much, but he is clear on his like for all things dessert. So, I carried him over there and we selected some cookies for his plate. Happiness reigned. His word for cookies is the Norwegian word: Kake. Pronounced with equal emphasis on each syllable. Ka-Ke.

We go back to the table and he just gazes at his plate for a moment. Then, very methodically, he picks up each cookie, one by one, and takes a bite from each, putting the tasted cookie back on the plate before moving on to the next one. Then, having ranked them in his own mind in order of tastiness (I presume), he stuffs them into his mouth. The plate is now empty. He looks at me and pleads: Kake? As if to say, all gone, get more. One of his hands, however, is closed. So I say, show me your hand. He holds out his left hand, quite empty. I say, no, show me your other hand. He takes his left hand back and looks down at his hands, brow furrowed in concentration, and, slowly, uncurls the fingers of his right hand and then carefully transfers the two cookies from his right hand to his left hand. Transfer finished, he proudly displayed the now cookie-less right hand for my inspection.

All I could do was laugh. And yes, I gave him another cookie.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:44 AM | Comments (10) | Add Comment
Post contains 310 words, total size 2 kb.

1 Priceless!! It seems BC is a very good student of GC. As always, thanks for sharing.

Posted by: Wicked H at March 09, 2005 11:19 AM (iqFar)

2 The logic and perceptiveness of children is both amazing and charming. One day when my boy child was about two, I looked over and said, "Boy, behave!" He looked at me with a glint in his eye and replied, "But Mom, I'm being haved."

Posted by: JL at March 09, 2005 11:27 AM (Ul3xc)

3 Sweet, sweet story. I love it. The BC sounds so serious and determined!

Posted by: Amber at March 09, 2005 05:53 PM (zQE5D)

4 Those must have been some perty small cookies if he could hide 'em in his closed hand. No wonder he wanted more! Be careful y'don't reward decietful behavior just 'cause it's cute, though. Kids are always learning and testing their boundries. That's the only job they have at that age!

Posted by: Tuning Spork at March 09, 2005 11:37 PM (+FXP6)

5 The two year old girls in the neighborhood better watch out! It looks like we've got a smooth one on our hands. So adorable. Your children really are incredible.

Posted by: C at March 10, 2005 01:05 AM (SpWVb)

6 Hehe. What a smooth operator. Just wait until he CAN talk well. ;-)

Posted by: Jim at March 10, 2005 05:58 AM (MDLz3)

7 Awww TS, RP and his wife are competent parents and BC will not fare any the worse for wear just because he got a cookie from Daddy by deceptive methods. He's TWO. Having said that --- I'd have given him a cookie, too. But you do realize that I'm a grandmother, now? We have a different set of rules from Mommies. Aheh.

Posted by: Margi at March 10, 2005 12:54 PM (lWAiX)

8 I sort of agree with both TS and Margi. Yes, kids will take advantage of any cracks in your facade, and you should not reward dishonesty. However, charm and creative problem-solving are always valuable characteristics to have!

Posted by: GrammarQueen at March 10, 2005 01:50 PM (Dccav)

9 Thanks for all the great comments. TS, you have a very good point, but just the same I think you have to reward them if they can make you laugh while they are trying to manipulate them. At least, maybe a little. I would have had to have had a much harder heart not to have responded to that little show he put on.

Posted by: RP at March 10, 2005 04:16 PM (X3Lfs)

10 Oh no! I don't think BC was being deceitful at all. Not at all...no, Random, you asked him to show you his hand. He was conflicted because there was something IN his left hand, so how could he show you his bare hand? That's why he transferred the cookies. It didn't occur to him to try and get away with anything. Just my take on it. (Am I going to be a GREAT Nana or what?? HA!)

Posted by: Amber at March 11, 2005 04:26 PM (zQE5D)

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You may recall a small post I did not too long ago about how the Girl Child and the Boy Child hold hands in the car where ever they go. Well, last night, the nanny gave us a picture she took. You can't see their faces in the picture, but I think it is a very powerful image notwithstanding.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:41 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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1 That's a wonderful picture, RP. My wife also enjoys your posts, and notes that when our youngest son, 4, is in an incorrigible state, our daughter, 6, is the one to take him in tow and cheer his mood: She's really quite helpful that way.

Posted by: Mark C N Sullivan at March 07, 2005 10:44 AM (q9XsZ)

2 Oh, will you stop driving these tears to my eyes, Random! That is a gorgous picture. Says volumes. The way their hands are clasped...*fights tears again* *sniffles*

Posted by: Amber at March 07, 2005 07:16 PM (zQE5D)

3 your best photo yet rp...it's not nice to make a pregnant woman cry.

Posted by: standing naked at March 07, 2005 10:30 PM (6FCAy)

4 That's a very sweet picture. And I'm very happy to see that you've got car clutter just like we do. Heh.

Posted by: Jim at March 08, 2005 05:30 AM (MDLz3)

5 I'm glad that you all liked the picture. Since I didn't say, the Girl Child is in the orange and the Boy Child in the black and gray coat.

Posted by: RP at March 08, 2005 09:07 AM (LlPKh)

6 fhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhheuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuiwapvfnhugggggggggggggggggggggggggggggriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiijffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiieowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwifcvnhjg!

Posted by: Raela at October 16, 2005 04:00 PM (R5NqD)

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We were returning home last night from taking my parents out to dinner to celebrate my mother's birthday and my daughter and I had the following conversation (remember, she's only four):

GC: What are you doing, Pappa?

Me: [thinking it was pretty darn obvious what I was doing behind the wheel of the car, responded with small sarcasm] Just hanging out. What are you doing?

GC: I'm just sitting back here watching you drive.

Me: How am I doing?

GC: Better. [small pause] That's all I can really say. Better.

Thus proving what every trial lawyer already knows: never ask an open ended question you don't know the answer to.

My wife almost went into convulsions next to me, muttering to herself, "its NY, everyone's a critic."

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:23 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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My wife was late at the dentist last night so I had the kids all to myself. I got home, inquired into the behavior of the children, determined that they had been good, and gave them a small bag of University Alumni M&M's that I had picked up at a University Alumni function the night before (blue and white colored with a University crest on the bag). Predictably, the children were delighted. The Girl Child sat down at the table with them and shared them with her brother, very evenly and without any prompting from me.

Than she taught him how to eat them. She placed a couple, quite carefully, on the kitchen table, then suctioned them right up, one at a time. The Boy Child was charmed by this new trick and decided he had to do it to. He put his down, he likes to have one in each hand generally, lowered his little head to the table, got his mouth as close as he could, then picked it up with his hand and popped it into his mouth. The Girl Child patiently corrected him and they sat there, two happy little clams, sucking M&M's into their mouths. At the end, the Girl Child's mouth was pristine. The Boy Child, on the other hand, looked as if he had carefully crushed all of his M&M's, wet them down, and rolled his face over them. He was covered in blue and white dye and chocolate. The Girl Child wanted to wash him but took one closer look and handed the wet paper towel back to me. After I finished cleaning him up, he held out his arms to show me where he had been wiping his mouth when I wasn't looking. We washed those, too.

Then we went upstairs, where the Girl Child promptly spotted a spider on the wall in the Boy Child's room. I instructed her to go fetch some tissue while I watched the spider to make sure it didn't get away. She ran off and I heard her calling to the Boy Child, who by that time had gone into my room, "Boy Child, come here and watch Pappa kill a spider!" Back they came, with tissue. Did you know that spiders can jump? This one could and he did, right onto the floor where I could not find him. I looked for a bit and gave up. Not the Girl Child, however, who spotted him lurking behind the garbage pail. I moved the pail, killed the spider and disposed of the remains. After announcing the spider's position, by the way, the Girl Child made a hasty advance in another direction (points given for anyone who knows what this is a reference to) and climbed up onto the couch. I turned to her after the deed was done to congratulate her for locating the spider and we had the following exchange:

Me: Good job! Give me a high five!

GC: [stops bouncing on couch, gives me high five, goes back to bouncing]

Me: You sure are one mean old spider killing girl.

GC: [abruptly stops bouncing to look at me squarely in the eye] I'm not mean. [pause for emphasis] I'm nice. Also, I don't kill the spiders. I just tell you where they are and you kill them. I'm a nice spider finding girl.

All she left out at the end of that sentence was: So there.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 08:45 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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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
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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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My daughter has a doll. Well, she has more than one, but there is just one my wife dislikes and my wife hides this doll in the deepest recesses of my daughter's closet whenever she gets the chance. This doll bears an improbable name, dating from the time the Girl Child learned that people have more than one name and she decided her doll needed more than one name, too.

The Girl Child had an aunt visiting this weekend and the exchange when something like this:

Aunt: What's your doll's name?

GC: Mikado Philadelphia Booger.

Aunt: *Coughing fit* How did you come up with that name?

GC: We liked it. We thought it was a pretty name. So we that's what we named her.

No word on who the "we" was in the explanation. Frankly, I was a little bit afraid to ask.

I wonder, though, if any of her pretend friends had any input into the name.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:59 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Last night, I sat with the Girl Child and worked on an assignment from Nursery School. At school, they are doing a lesson that involves, broadly, learning how to not judge a book by its cover or a person by their appearance. I had to talk to her about what people would not be able to tell about her just based on her appearance (which is pretty darn cute, if I do say so myself).

Her answers were:

*Polite and playful
*Norsk (that's Norwegian, in Norwegian)
*"Sharebul" (her invention meaning sharing and friendly, she explained)
*loves to cuddle with her brother
*likes to run around the dining room table
*loves to dance ("make sure you write that one down, Pappa, ok?")
*loves all her friends in her class
*loves to swim and play in the pool and go underwater
*loves to eat ice cream cake
*thirsty all the time (I don't think this one is true, really, but whatever)
*loves to read and play with her doctor kit
*likes to play on the piano and loves music

It got me thinking, after she went to sleep. I wonder what kind of image I project by my appearance. I know someone once asked me, as I was on the subway going down to court, if I was a lawyer so maybe I project that vibe. I know that you will make certain assumptions automatically about a person based on certain socio-economic status clues that the subject gives off, but that won't tell you about the important things like ice cream cake.

So what is it about me that you can't tell when you see me all dressed up in my lawyer suit:

*I love the Autumn
*I enjoy the smell of a fire in the fire place
*I like the tactile sensations of different fabrics
*I love to read
*I like to talk to strangers
*I am not patient, not at all
*I am a patriot, I think, with a great love of my country
*Fatty foods over sweets
*I tell a damn good joke
*I love to get into a cold bed and feel it warm up from my body heat
*I loathe cucumbers to the point where, if you ask, I'll just claim that I'm allergic
*I wish I had a little convertible to zip around in, I miss the one my grandfather used to have
*I am very bad about following the dictates of my religion, pretty much any of them
*Spring training games bore me
*I am trustworthy and people tend to repose trust and confidence in me
*I am a nostalgia hound
*I welcome and embrace change, so long as it doesn't interfere with any of my little routines
*I can self indulge with the best of them

That's a good start, I guess.

How about you? What would people not know about you just by looking at you?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 11:40 AM | Comments (7) | Add Comment
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1 I speak passable French, down from fluent French when I was 13.(lack of use) I have been to more foreign countries than states of the Union. I think the Grateful Dead are the best rock and roll band that has ever existed. I haven't had a drink in over 16 years (and boy, you talk about the GC, I really AM thirsty all the time!) Actually, I meant alcoholic drink. Not that I stumble around, or anything! I think travel is the most important geographic and sociological education anyone can give their children, surpassing any of what they learn about those subjects in school. I can take raw lumber and turn it into interior millwork and cabinetry, and then install same.

Posted by: Mark at January 28, 2005 12:14 PM (39jTO)

2 Had lunch with Princess Diana. Was shopping around the corner from her the weekend she died in Paris. Conducted a computer workshop without a computer. Got locked out of the campus computer room. Have a wicked, rather good sense of humor. Grew up in a multi-national, cultural family. Was on the front page of home town paper's sports page. Understand more Spanish and French than I let on. Tarot card reader and spiritual channeler. Very intuitive and spiritual. A big reader of newspapers, magazines and books. Enjoy reading erotica. Major sports fan. Very shy. Learned gregarious behavior. Have lived through post concussive disorder. Love to laugh. That I know how to use a gun. I love to sing. I wanted to be a doctor. In my own way, I am a on-line hospice volunteer. I am madly, totally, completely in love with NYC. My best friend is dying of cancer. I wore braces on my teeth as an adult. My left foot is larger than my right foot. Met the "real" Bobby Jones and Viktor Frankel. and so forth and so on...

Posted by: Azalea at January 28, 2005 05:00 PM (hRxUm)

3 The most confident person with low-self-esteem that you will ever meet. Has met several rock bands and was, at one time, a Band Wife who traveled with and sang background vocals from the sound board. It was exciting -- for about two weeks. Loves to sing, and has been told (by one very sweet, sweet man) that when he closed his eyes, he thought Patsy Cline was in the room. An incurable romantic who cries at all weddings and sappy proposal scenes in dumb movies. Hell, even some commercials! Far too thin-skinned and sensitive for her own good. Whose idea of decadence is 440-threadcount Egyptian cotton sheets and ten pounds of faux-mink blanket, a cup of tea or cocoa, and a thick, new book. Getting to where she must read with dimestore magnifying glasses or suffer the consequences in lack of focusing ability when attempting to see across the room. Loves the smell of: dusty antiques shops/bookstores, freshly bathed babies and newly-mown grass. Who thinks the most beautiful sound in the world is the sound of a baby laughing. (And I would love to meet Azalea. LOL!)

Posted by: Margi at January 28, 2005 05:32 PM (zalxZ)

4 i love to read things that are complete garbage to relax i dislike the color orange i am addicted to fresh pineapple when i write - (to quote a friend) - my mind often gets far ahead of my fingers...and i rarely let them catch up i love to fish -and grew up doing it quite a bit (and not just little fish...the big ocean type) i like words games...scrabble...bookworm...etc... but...don't like crossword puzzles water soothes me water excites me i love the water i am comfy in work boots...and a cocktail dress oh...and i blog

Posted by: standing naked at January 28, 2005 06:11 PM (IAJcf)

5 I'm pretty much a "what you see is what you get" person. Although everyone is surprised when the bitch pops out because I've been told I look "soft". But I'm not always. Much to their surprise. ;-) I look Californian, I look like I'd love cats, I look like I have a good sense of humor, I look like I'm high-maintainance. And I am all those things. The biggest part of me people don't seem to see is that I can be a shark in the sales department. I can manipulate when I choose to do so. Oh, and apparently when I get really angry, like if I'm protecting my kids or something, I can look murderously insane. Which is a good thing at a moment like that, IMO. *grins*

Posted by: Amber at January 28, 2005 08:18 PM (zQE5D)

6 I, too, am pretty much a "what you see is what you get" type of person, but these are the things that generally surprise people about me. -I used to model/act in commercials when I was in high school. I did this so often, if I needed to go on TV/have photo taken nowadays, I could do my own makeup. I was even up for a national campaign, too, but I didn't get it. -Can't stop myself from perusing the wares at nice jewelry stores. -I, too, have the sales gene, and can skillfully manipulate when the need arises. -I like daiquiris and pina coladas. I particularly like the little umbrella that sticks out the top. -I like to watch figure skating as much as I do hockey -I had a--how to put this delicately?---a reputation in college. And it didn't bother me one damn bit because I had a great time. -Guns scare the crap out of me. -I adore perfume. And silk and cashmere. -I like (a little too much, I think)the looks I get from the husband and other men when I make the effort to get all dressed up/made-up. It's always a pleasurable thing to make a man's eyebrows hit his hairline. Also, I rarely mind a polite pinch on the bum, either. That should be MORE than enough

Posted by: Kathy at January 29, 2005 06:05 PM (sQLe5)

7 Thanks for playing, y'all. To borrow from Margi, I'd probably enjoy having lunch with all of you!

Posted by: RP at January 31, 2005 09:39 AM (LlPKh)

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My mother takes the grand children out for lunch once a week. Sometimes the lunch is held at my mother's house, sometimes she comes over to our house, and sometimes they all go out. Yesterday, they went out. I am informed that the following conversation took place between Nana and the GC:

Nana: I hear that you're doing a lot of painting these days.

GC: Yes.

Nana: Will you paint me some new pictures I can put on my fridge?

GC: What's wrong with the old ones? You don't like them?

Damn. I just wish I had been there to see my mother's face. It would have been priceless.

Heh.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 03:51 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
Post contains 122 words, total size 1 kb.

1 Cute as a button and sharp as a tack. Watch out for that one, RP!

Posted by: Jim at January 27, 2005 04:17 PM (tyQ8y)

2 Yep...you can tell she's already got Daddy wrapped around her little finger.

Posted by: C at January 27, 2005 06:23 PM (0yCni)

3 She always makes me smile! So did grandma get any new pictures?

Posted by: Rachel Ann at January 28, 2005 03:05 AM (Gf7BP)

4 Grandma did not get any new pictures, once GC was satisfied that the old pictures were still doing the trick.

Posted by: RP at January 28, 2005 08:14 AM (LlPKh)

5 A pragmatic one, that GC.

Posted by: GrammarQueen at January 28, 2005 05:03 PM (glf8i)

6 *Amber bursts out laughing* That's hysterical, Random!

Posted by: Amber at January 28, 2005 08:11 PM (zQE5D)

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I've had some very funny exchanges with the Girl Child (now 4!) over the last several days and wanted to get them down before I forget them.

Saturday evening, while watching the football game, GC proves that she can get into the mind of the advertising agency who created the Coors Light, "Cold Tasting" campaign. I could not understand what cold tasting was meant to signify, so I wisely asked a better mind, the GC, what she thought "cold tasting" meant. She replied:

Cold tasting? Frosted. Fresh. And yummy.

I suppose she has a future in either beer or advertising. Either way, she's already smarter than I am.

Last night, she became indignant when my wife would not let her do something and this was the interchange:

GC: Pappa, you have to tell Mamma what to do. You're bigger than her and she's smaller than you and she has to listen to you.

Me: Really? Is that how it works?

GC: Yes!

Me: Ok. I'll give it a try. Mamma, come here and give me a hug, please. [Hug given] Mamma, now give me a kiss, please. [Kiss given]. You're right, GC, it works!

GC: NO, PAPPA! Tell her to do something FOR REAL! [tone: indignant anger]

Me: Well, GC, it really doesn't work that way. The only reason she did what I asked was because I said please.

GC: [Stunned silence as world order collapses]

Finally, I was putting the finishing touches on some soup last night when the GC told me she had to go. We had the following conversation:

GC: Ok, Pappa, I have to go now. I'm teaching high school inside.

Me: What are you teaching?

GC: Cow.

Me: Cow?

GC: Yes, cow. How to milk a cow, how to get milk into the pitcher and then how to pour the milk from the pitcher without spilling it.

Me: This is a good thing to teach at high school?

GC: Yes. It's very important.

I want to go back to high school.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:50 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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