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
Post contains 568 words, total size 3 kb.

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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This was not overheard by me, but was overheard outside of an Upper East Side restaurant and reported at the end of a review in the NY Observer:

Outside the restaurant, one of the customers was smoking a cigarette and talking on his cell phone. “I went home with one of the hostesses two weeks ago,” he said. “When she saw me tonight, she said I’d be waiting a long time for my table.”

Made me smile.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:30 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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I have been terribly busy and thus without sufficient time to really blog. This makes me feel a little bad because, no matter how putrid the outcome, I really enjoy the writing. Hopefully, I will have more time to blog going forward.

In the meantime, I hope not to lack for material as my lovely wife has given me a subscription to the Economist. How did I survive for so long without such a subscription? Partially there has been an intimidation factor. It is a serious obligation to read the Economist every week. Mighty time consuming and I just wasn't sure I would do such an expensive (around $100 a year) subscription justice. But, with my longer train ride, it looks like I will be able to fit it in just fine. Yay!

Look for more posts soon, I hope.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:04 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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Unless you've been living in a cave, you are aware of the current debate that the media in the United States does not present an unbiased view point when covering, well, just about everything. This is not a secret and should not come as an earth shaking revelation. But whatever. You kind of note it and file it away and move on, most of the time. But sometimes, just sometimes, it jumps off the page at you, or off of the television, and you just stand there, gobsmacked, like I was this morning.

I was watching CNN during my morning perspiration at the gym today and the talking heads were discussing the whole Cindy Sheehan thing -- you know, she got tossed from the chamber before the State of the Union speech, right? Now, I had to go to CNN to get the name of the talking head who said this, because they are kind of all interchangeable for me, but it was Miles O'Brien talking to Soledad O'Brien and here's what happened. Soledad said that Cindy was asked to cover up her shirt and refused and that's why she was escorted out. Miles expressed confusion when Soledad said that and referred to some papers in front of him, saying, "that's not what it says happened on her blog or on the letter she wrote to the Michael Moore website". Excuse me, Miles, Cindy's blog and Moore's webpage are supposed to qualify as authoritative news sources? Are you kidding me?

Who says that the media ain't biased? I'd rather believe that they were biased than that they were just this fuc*ing stupid, ok?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:43 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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1 Amen. Unfortunately, they generally are that f@#$ng stupid. And lazy.

Posted by: Kathy at February 01, 2006 09:55 AM (JeBdM)

2 I read it on Al Gore's interweb so it MUST BE TRUE.

Posted by: phin at February 01, 2006 11:00 AM (Xvpen)

3 Hey I read it on Phin's blog so it must be true!

Posted by: Oorgo at February 01, 2006 07:42 PM (lM0qs)

4 I'll take RP's word anyday!

Posted by: Mark at February 06, 2006 08:09 AM (RB3/n)

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I have been a denizen of appellate briefing hell over this whole month. But it will soon pass. The brief (50+ pages so it ain't too brief) is due next Wednesday at the Appellate Division. But I have been running and running and running with this and trying to keep up with other responsibilities. So, a very short post as a kind of snapshot.

*A dinner in a wood paneled library. Black tie. Silver candlesticks with huge candles. A long table. A convivial group of some 50 people. It was mighty nice.

*A ton of work on a pre-marriage agreement for a lovely client. By a ton of work, I'm sure I have billed over $30,000 on it. Well, I believe that push has come to shove today and the client and his intended cannot come to an agreement. I am both happy (that he isn't getting stuck with this woman) and sad (that they couldn't make it work). I know it wasn't my fault. But, just the same. . .

*The English really do make beautiful shirts and I may have a problem here. Like, I may need an intervention. Hilditch and Key. At least they're on sale. My wife is gonna, well, not kill me, since she still needs me to do stuff around the house, but, she may be less happy than she has been in the past. Still, a great deal and who is it who does not love a great deal? Not I!

*I think that the combination of too much work stress and not enough sleep makes you feel like a pencil that has been sharpened too many times. Just a pathetic little nub, not good for much of anything.

*The Viking Bride and I are taking a romantic weekend away next week. Hoping to feel rejuvenated. We probably haven't done that since December 2004, I bet. And boy, that is waaaay too long between times away.

*I hope all my buddies are doing fine over on their blogs as I have lacked quality time to visit.

Pax tibi.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 05:10 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
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As you may recall, we took the children to the local police and fire stations on the day after New YearÂ’s this year to deliver home made cookies. While visiting the very nice firemen, the kids got a small lecture on the 911 system and what to do in an emergency. With that background out of the way, let me get to the anecdote.

Last night, we went to the dentist. It was the Girl ChildÂ’s appointment but we brought the Boy Child, too. His first visit and I wanted him to get accustomed to the place and see that nothing scary was going to happen to his sister. Fine. No problems. He sat up in her lap after her appointment and even let the hygienist count and clean his teeth. They both particularly liked Mr. Thirsty, the thing that sucks all the water out of your mouth. I took a picture of them sitting there together with my camera phone. Not the greatest picture, but still.

After the appointment, while the kids were rooting around in the “Treasure Chest”, picking out toys, I had a nice chat with the dentist who, along with several other people in the office, passed along their condolences about my grandfather. For awhile there, the dentist was actually treating four generations of the same family. I wasn’t watching what the kids picked too closely, but, I gather, the Boy Child wanted exactly what the Girl Child wanted and so they both left clutching a plastic ring and a bracelet. Fair enough. Both happy, both with bright shiny teeth.

This morning, the Boy Child headed downstairs to retrieve, first thing, his ring and bracelet. He stayed, according to my wife, down there for a little while before coming upstairs where, the following took place:

BC: Mamma, mine bracelet is broken. Call 911!

Mamma: Boy Child, we only call 911 if there is a big emergency. We canÂ’t call 911 for this.

BC: [Looks at her for a moment, considers her words and either decides to reject them or decides that this is a big emergency, and picks up the phone] 911!?! Mine bracelet is broken. Mine ring is not broken. Mine bracelet is broken. Come fix it?

Looks like the lecture that the firemen gave him really sunk in. Who says kids today donÂ’t listen?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 12:12 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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1 I can never get enough of the BC&GC stories. Never. This was adorable, RP.

Posted by: Amber at January 20, 2006 03:33 PM (zQE5D)

2 Well if that doesn't qualify as an 'emergency' I don't know what does. Great story.

Posted by: Roberta S at January 23, 2006 03:21 PM (R7VQT)

3 If a grown woman can call 911 cause she didn't get the hamburger she wanted at Wendy's then BC can call cause his bracelet is broken. Surely they have a jewlery repair squad, no?

Posted by: oddybobo at January 24, 2006 04:05 PM (6Gm0j)

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I am a student of history. An amateur, to be sure, but a committed student with wide ranging tastes and interests. So many interests over so many periods in so many different locations that I would be hard pressed to pick just one to say, yes, thatÂ’s my favorite. But, if pressed, I confess to certain themes, certain issues, that I like to read about. Violent or revolutionary change is one theme, across cultures and in different places. Sometimes, when you read or when you observe, you are able to suddenly come up with an insight that escaped the professional historian. Maybe its because you are more widely read and have a less concentrated focus. But, either way, you have suddenly made a connection across cultures or periods and this connection allows you to evaluate or think about something in a new and different way. It is a serendipitous moment when it arrives.

IÂ’ve just had one. For years and years and years, historians and anthropologists and archeologists have wracked their brains, trying to come up with a believable or at least plausible reason why the Mayans simply abandoned their cities in Mexico and Guatemala. Why did they just walk away from these gorgeous places they built over many years?

Well, I think IÂ’ve come to know. Thanks to Connecticut Light and Power, IÂ’ve been granted a stunning insight that has totally escaped the professionals.

Here’s what happened. The Mayans lost power and they moved back home with their parents. While they waited for Quetzal Luz & Electricidad to hook ‘em back up, the pipes in the pyramids burst and, rather than clean it all up, they just stayed at their parents’ house. And thus, the great cities were abandoned. Of course, QL&E still got a huge rate increase but the cities never came back.

CanÂ’t you totally see it?

We actually didnÂ’t have a burst pipe. And we did get our power back last night, thus allowing us to move home to discover that now that we had power, we had to call the oil company because we didnÂ’t have heat. They were very nice and came over within the hour to bring our house back from the high 40's to a happier temperature.

Still, as we pulled away from my parents’ house last night, my daughter called to her grandfather: “Bye, Grandpa! See you at the next storm!”

ThatÂ’s probably going to be this weekend.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 11:59 AM | Comments (1) | Add Comment
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The Viking Bride (who, by the way, very much appreciates all of the kind birthday wishes you all left her!) told me about an interaction she had with the Boy Child that, I felt, cried out for memorialization. The BC, you see, has become quite the poopy afficionado. He has come to realize that the act of pooping creates a reward. As he has a sweet tooth the size of the Empire State Building, a piece of candy is a huge motivating force for him. The Girl Child is his biggest cheerleader as she also gets rewarded for his hard work. Can't leave one of them out on the candy distribution. She will usually accompany him, at his request, and she gets down to potty level to peer intently at his tuchus to cheer at the first appearance of the poopy. "Yay, BC!", you will hear ring through out the house.

The BC has the exchange rate down cold. "Me poop on potty, me get marzipan". He regularly checks this fundamental point with us as if to make sure there have been no changes in circumstances, no problems on our end he should be aware of.

But a problem on his end, well, that was the subject of the conversation he had with my wife.

As she reported to me, they were in the potty together, the Boy Child perched on the seat:

BC: Mamma, poopy no come out!

BC: [Leans forward to look between his legs, speaks very angrily and with great command in his tone] Poopy! Me need you come OUT!!

[Waits a beat and yells at his bottom] COME ON, POOPY!!!

I believe that, at the end, the poopy listened and the marzipan was distributed.

* * *

By the way, we are once again without power and once again bunking in with the wife's inlaws. Who knew that Connecticut and Bangladesh had so much in common?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 03:09 PM | Comments (8) | Add Comment
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The Girl Child was with my mother yesterday, thanks to the power outage on Sunday (stay tuned, sportsfans, another storm with high winds headed our way!) And my mother related to me the following conversation:

GC: Nanna, do you still love H (my recently deceased maternal grandfather)?

N: Of course, I do, honey.

GC: Is it ok that I still love H, too?

N: Of course. Why do you ask?

GC: I wasn't sure if it was ok to keep loving people after they died and I knew you were really sad after he died so I wanted to wait to ask you until you were a little less sad.

We all miss him very much still.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 01:55 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment
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1 how sweet of her.

Posted by: jules at January 17, 2006 04:15 PM (F+tvM)

2 Very thoughtful of her, and yes, amazingly wise for so young. Isn't it said that we have much to learn from children? It's too bad so often we don't retain the wisdom and the wonder.

Posted by: Oorgo at January 17, 2006 05:34 PM (lM0qs)

3 )>

Posted by: Mark at January 18, 2006 08:19 AM (c2/X7)

4 That is like the sweetest thing ever. Ever. {{{hugs to GC}}}

Posted by: Amber at January 18, 2006 06:01 PM (zQE5D)

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A huge storm hit our area on Saturday, and no, I’m not talking about my wife’s reaction to my having to stay at work until 9:30 on Friday night and then spend the whole day – through dinner – at the office on Saturday. The storm took down trees and power lines. It took our house off the power grid at 1:00 on Sunday morning. The temperature, in the meantime, plummeted. When we were up on Sunday morning, the day of the Girl Child’s birthday party, it was 55 degrees in the house. In case you were wondering, no power with a forced air heating system means no heat in the house. It was around 25 degrees outside. It did not look good for our heros. Snow, ice everywhere, and a very hopeful Girl Child.

Happily, for her, the party went off without a hitch. Almost all of her guests came and she had a lovely time. We had the party out of the house at a local gymnastics place. The Girl Child was the center of attention, surrounded by her friends, all of whom seemed to like her and were happy to be with her. It was sweet to see. The kids were all run ragged and the real shocker was the Boy Child. My son is without fear and with exceptional coordination. He declined any and all help on the balance beam, walking all by himself from end to end, many times, and then happily threw himself into the pads to dismount. HeÂ’d climb on other things as high as he could and throw himself into matts. He bounced, he rolled, he insisted on doing everything the older kids were doing. The staff, unsolicited, volunteered that they had never seen anything like him. I think weÂ’re going to sign him up for gymnastics. IÂ’m not sure we have a choice. The remainder of the Carvel ice cream cake came with us.

After the party, we went back to the house. Temp? 49 and falling. Decision? Evacuation to my parents back in Westchester. Run all the taps in the house, pack the bags, set the alarm (on extensive battery backup) and hope for the best. As evacuations go, it wasnÂ’t horrible. We were taken out for a lovely dinner and the Viking Bride and I slept on the floor of my childhood room while the kids had a sleep over in my sisterÂ’s old room. Just the same, we slept terribly and the kids were up hours and hours before they should have been.

Power, according to CT L&P, was not going to be restored until midnight tonight. However, according to my alarm company (I heart these guys), power came back on at around 7:30 this morning. I immediately called the house and was thrilled to hear my wifeÂ’s voice on the answering machine, meaning that power really was back.

The kids are spending the rest of the day with my mother and my wife, who headed back up to the house, just called in to report that the power is back, the heat is back, all the water is still running, and, mirabile dictu, none of the Champagne froze and exploded!

Not exactly how my wife had hoped to start her birthday, but, there you go.

Happy birthday, my child bride!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 10:35 AM | Comments (11) | Add Comment
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1 Happy Birthday Mrs. Penseur. It's nice to see that there is somebody else enduring the same two months of torture buying presents for their loved ones. My wife turned another year older on Saturday. Just think come February 14th (15th) we're free and clear for another 10 months.

Posted by: phin at January 16, 2006 11:30 AM (Xvpen)

2 Happy Birthday Mrs. Penseur! Phin, darling? Never off the hook. Never. All that excitement and you STILL wrote the best. Brief. Evar!? Go, YOU!! ) xoxo

Posted by: Margi at January 16, 2006 11:53 AM (nwEQH)

3 Carvel ice cream cake...You had to mention the Carvel ice cream cake...We used to have a Carvel store in my hometown and the ice cream was awesome. Wonder if they deliver?

Posted by: Howard at January 16, 2006 12:03 PM (u2JaN)

4 Sounds like he's going to want Xtreme gymnastics. Hehe. Happy Birthday, VB!

Posted by: Jim at January 16, 2006 01:19 PM (tyQ8y)

5 Dear VB: Happiness today and ALL days. Glad to hear all is calm now.

Posted by: Wicked H at January 16, 2006 02:00 PM (iqFar)

6 A Carvel's opened near here about a year ago. Good stuff. Still, I like Blue Bell and Braum's (Texas local favorites) best. Happy Birthdays (to GC and the Mrs.) P.S. Another reason I like reading your blog - you use phrases like "mirabile dictu" without sounding pretentious. That's quite a trick.

Posted by: JohnL at January 16, 2006 10:23 PM (dYzx6)

7 Luckily we didn't lose power since we normaly keep the house at 55 degrees during winter. (85 in summer, mheh.)

Posted by: Tuning Spork at January 17, 2006 12:29 AM (i1jt5)

8 Happy Birthday Mrs. Penseur.

Posted by: Mia at January 17, 2006 01:27 AM (8No2c)

9 Happy Birthday Ms. RP!

Posted by: oddybobo at January 17, 2006 11:09 AM (6Gm0j)

10 Gee, RP, I missed that it was the missus' birthday too! Happy Birthday, Mrs. RP!

Posted by: Mark at January 17, 2006 12:59 PM (IPp2K)

11 Happy Belated Birthday, Mrs. RP! Sounds like it was quite the start! Amazing what happens to people when you don't visit their blog for awhile. I feel like I missed out on being helpful or something! :-\ Stay safe and warm, all of you!

Posted by: Amber at January 18, 2006 06:00 PM (zQE5D)

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Today is the anniversary of the birth of my first child, she who I call on this blog the Girl Child, a most remarkable/astounding creature by any measure. While I was out of the house again this morning, as is my routine, long before sun up, I left her a birthday card on the kitchen table, along with some presents she will open with my wife (who beautifully wrapped them). To say she is excited about her birthday would be a gross understatement. She has been counting down the days for weeks now.

This was most of my entry last year, on the subject:

January 12, 2001, my wife and I were at NY Hospital, 65th and the River, and at precisely 10:00 that morning, my wife gave birth to our first child, the Girl Child. Shortly after giving birth, my wife basically passed out and remained passed out for about an hour and a half. That meant that when they finished weighing the little thing, they brought her to me. Now, she was crying her little heart out, not at all happy to be taken from her mother's womb and pushed out into a cold, January morning. But, happily for the Girl Child, I listened to an old nurse some months back at the hospital who counseled us to speak to the baby while in the womb. She said it would be helpful at the time of delivery. So, every night, I used to read to my wife's belly and otherwise just chat to it for awhile. The result was that when the nurse handed me my little wrapped up bundle of shrieking baby, and I cuddled her to my neck and spoke soothingly to her, she stopped crying, let out a little sigh, and snuggled into my neck, totally at peace. It was altogether magical and I sat there with her, talking quietly to her, until the nurses made me give her back to be taken to the nursery.

That was five years ago, today.

Happy birthday, my daughter, and many, many more!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:59 AM | Comments (21) | Add Comment
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I gather that here on MuNu, it is de-lurking week. This means that if you come by and visit but don't generally leave comments, this is the week to leave a comment, to step out of the shadows, to just say hello or to slag me off because you think the site is shite. Seriously, if only to satisfy my own curiousity, should you choose to de-lurk, would you mind telling me how you came to this blog? Thanks!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:28 AM | Comments (15) | Add Comment
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1 I don't know if I'm a lurker or not, but howdy! I suspect I started reading in response to a comment you made in the distant past on TexasBestGrok.

Posted by: owlish at January 11, 2006 09:59 AM (GDqxH)

2 I can't remember, RP. My brain core dumps after 6 months!

Posted by: Elizabeth at January 11, 2006 10:24 AM (uqPyj)

3 I turned from a habitual comment leaver into a lurker. I suspect that this is, in part, because I have let my own blog lapse. That, and I feel that I can always do just one more thing here or there, and end up with no time to even send an email to my family. In any case, I have been following your posts. I'm still around, just not as visible, I guess; many of your posts have been hard for me to respond to, hitting very close to home. As always, thinking thoughts of joy, sympathy, compassion and delight among a myriad of other things your way...

Posted by: Mandalei at January 11, 2006 10:26 AM (LcyhB)

4 I can't remember either. But de-lurking is apparently all the rage in the entire blogosphere this week, so. Hey. :-)

Posted by: Jennifer at January 11, 2006 11:24 AM (jl9h0)

5 I don't lurk much, but I'll comment anyway. I believe I found your blog when you were new on mu.nu. I haven't actually scouted out the new mu.nus in a long, long time. In fact, I just decreased my faves list because I didn't visit some of them regularly anymore. Yeah, I know, I suck.

Posted by: Linda at January 11, 2006 02:49 PM (4gch1)

6 Hi, I am a lurker and found you by accident. I started reading about the time of your g-fathers funeral and it reminded me of my grandparents. We are jewish as well. I just kept reading and I enjoy your blog immensely. Thank You

Posted by: Tara at January 11, 2006 05:08 PM (0q/K4)

7 I'm not a lurker; I'm just in here making trouble. Yes, again! ;-P

Posted by: Amber at January 11, 2006 05:28 PM (zQE5D)

8 How did I get here? By clicking on my 'daily reads', got to have have a portion of RP on a regular basis!! : )

Posted by: Mia at January 11, 2006 06:12 PM (o+8DV)

9 I found you through Mia actually. =D

Posted by: Primal at January 11, 2006 06:57 PM (wkHsG)

10 I came here for the nudie pictures. I stayed for the articles.

Posted by: Tuning Spork at January 11, 2006 10:16 PM (WCxcm)

11 I didn't realize it was delurk week, and this is my first visit here. I came here via your comments at Jennifer's.

Posted by: terrilynn at January 12, 2006 09:58 AM (V8P0X)

12 The first blog I read was written by a teenage neighbor and detailed an experience of vomiting on her boyfriend during oral sex. I did not feel that this knowledge in any way enriched my life. I grew up in the age of dairies and/or strict anonymity and am trying to make an adjustment. I recently published a novel and have been advised that blogging for a writer who wants to sell books is absolutely necessary. Hence, I became a lurker and fortunate my sister ( a Francophile compelled to click on the name) was already into RP, the most refreshing and delightful of bloggers. For me, the wonderful stories of Girl Child and Boy Child bring back memories of a time in my own life long passed. You bring pleasure to my days. Happy Birthday to Girl Child and thank you.

Posted by: Naomi Gerbarg at January 12, 2006 12:59 PM (iKVpv)

13 De-lurkification. I've been lurking a lot. Too much. And now I feel guilty. Oh- I think I wandered in from SnoozeButtonDreams a long time ago.

Posted by: Rob at January 13, 2006 02:22 PM (nQDtN)

14 Hi RP, I've left you a few comments before, but mostly I lurk. My good friend Angineer recommended your blog to me last year and I've been a loyal reader ever since. I'm not sure how she found you though.

Posted by: turtleherder at January 15, 2006 01:45 PM (Q1r/D)

15 I'm here from time to time... I just don't often comment!

Posted by: Hannah at January 28, 2006 05:31 PM (O6LLZ)

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He's feeling his oats, got a bit of a swagger to his step, is taking charge and is not afraid to let you know it. He's also about 6 weeks away from being three years old.

This weekend, he says to his mother:

"Mamma, go sit couch. You in time out. You trouble!"

Last night, getting ready for bed, it was my turn:

BC: Pappa, you no drink my milk. You drink my milk, police come, take you away put you in jail.

Me: Why would they put me in jail?

BC: You drink me milk, you get sick. [Looks defiantly at me and says with emphasis] That is mine reason.

Me: Got it. Don't drink your milk. Check.

Also, two nights ago, we had the following exchange:

Me: Boy Child, do not push your sister off that stool! You could hurt her!

BC: [Outrage written all over his face; shaking his finger at me for emphasis] NO. SAY. THAT. WORD. ME!!!!

Me: What word, honey? What word are you objecting to?

BC: [Intense concentration, pause] Me no know what word. Me no ha'member.

Me: Well, if you can't tell me the word, how can I not say it?

BC: [sighs dejectedly] Me know.

I think its gonna be a long ride. Fun, but long.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 01:33 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment
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Phin has a thought. Seems to be useful, I think, for all ages.

A caution, swallow your coffee before clicking on the link.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:53 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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In helping to clean out my grandfatherÂ’s things, I took for myself a large number of old photographs, many of them of me when I was a child.

I gaze upon this child, with his hazel eyes holding an intense gaze and his skin kissed gold by the sun, and I donÂ’t recognize him at all. I feel no kinship, no sense of immediacy, no relationship at all. It is as if I have never met the boy. I recognize the bookcase he is posed in front of, remember the color it was painted, even some of the books. I actually recall the t-shirt, it was a favorite. But of the boy, of the person, nothing. It is as if I have no connection to the past. When did that happen, I wonder?

I know I was not created fully formed, as if sprung up from the earth, a man with hair going gray at the temples and wearing a suit and a tie, a man with a mortgage and responsibilities, with children and a job. IÂ’m not sure what happened to the child, the boy. My memories of him are evanescent.

Alienated from the past, is it any wonder that sometimes one feels adrift in the present? And thus, unsure, uncertain, unable to visualize the future?

Or is it all just a crock of shit?

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:35 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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Amy is back on the web! YAY!

Links joyfully updated! All systems go!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 11:57 AM | Comments (2) | Add Comment
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There are certain forms, certain of what used to be commonly accepted ways to initiate interaction and social discourse. These are, probably, thought of as old fashioned by some and as taboos to be transgressed by iconoclasts and other self-consciously hip trend setters, both young (who ought to be rebelling against something) and old (who really ought to know better, but so be it). But they are neither. These forms, this kind of politeness, is neither old fashioned nor unnecessary. They include words like: please; thank you; excuse me; pardon me; may I trouble you; or, do you mind. These words provide a sort of social lubrication so that the parts in the great social machine (meaning, you and me) do not rub up against each other and snag or create friction which leads to heat. They allow our wheels to move more smoothly when we have to mesh together, even if only for a brief moment. I insist on them, both for myself and my children. My wife and I, if you can believe it, actually say please and thank you to each other, both as a matter of habit and course and because our kids might as well see manners in action -- do as I say and as I do.

So, background over.

This morning, as I awaited the 7:34 train to come and whisk me away to the bib bad city and to my desk where multiple tasks were provided by my kind and munificent employers to both delight and entertain me, I gazed out over the quiet, and mostly empty, parking lot. It was peaceful and I was sort of pleasantly lost in thought as my mind kind of drifted this way and that, sort of just bobbing along with the flow of my relaxed little stream of consciousness. The snow was falling, rapidly but not heavily, kind of drifting down etherally and lightly but quickly. It was kind of nice.

Then, an interruption.

"Do you know when the train comes", I was asked.

No, excuse me or pardon me or sorry for interrupting but . . . I dislike that quite a bit, as if you didn't know by now. If it were me asking, I would make some sort of prefatory apology first because I certainly don't think that just because you are standing there, just because you exist, you owe me any information or indeed any form of social discourse at all beyond the social implied contract that you will leave me alone and not trouble me and, hopefully, not impinge on the quiet exercise of my own liberties. That's certainly what you can expect, I believe. So, I acknowledge that and then ask for assistance or information or whatever.

Now, having examined what was missing from her question, let's look at what was there and reflect, if you are still reading, on why it was a bad question on at least a couple of levels.

First, I could have simply answered it, yes. Yes, I know when the next train is coming. Although, actually, even though the question is structured to permit such an answer, I would have to have a claim to some kind of omniscience that I do not really possess to know when the train is coming. So, I suppose I could have simply answered it, no, I do not know when the train is coming.

How could I know when the train is coming? I cannot see it, I have no GPS relationship with it. No, the most I could know is when the train is supposed to arrive at my station, when it is scheduled to arrive. That I could know and that I could tell her.

But you see, all she asked is whether I knew, not for the information I actually had to convey, although I believe she really meant to know the information and was not really inquiring whether I was generally informed and possessed of the information. Although, I suppose she could have been. Maybe she was seized of a compulsion to generally inquire of her fellow citizens to gauge their level of information concerning train arrivals and departures. Perhaps an over or under medication issue and not simply the evidence of a sloppy thinking process.

All that said, I doubt she walked away from our encounter thinking much more of me than I of her. I answered her thusly:

"Do I know when the train is coming? No. However, it is scheduled to arrive here at 7:34."

She walked away, her braided pig tails, so incongruous in a woman over ten, bobbing in her wake, seemingly so content with the information I provided that she, in the bliss of her contentment, neglected to thank me.

And so the wheels of social interaction grind together and stop. A little lubrication probably would have helped. I think you know what I mean. And since you do, let me not neglect to thank you for actually reading to the end of this rant.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 09:19 AM | Comments (9) | Add Comment
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This award goes to Kathy's husband who caused one elderly barking moonbat to flap her protest sign at him in great agitation as he challanged her world view. She also might have not approved of his cigar, but that's just me.

Kathy's observations on the pacifists who dine and dash at the table of life are worth a peek, too.

I'm gonna use this one as soon as I next get the chance.

Posted by: Random Penseur at 04:20 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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Michele posted this one and, as I have a dearth of inspiration, I snagged it:

The Meme of Four

Four jobs youÂ’ve had in your life: Assistant Tennis Pro; Slide Projectionist for Art History 101; Bartender; and, oh yeah, Lawyer (current)

Four movies you could watch over and over: They may not really be movies, all of these, but: Danger UXB; The Jeeves/Wooster Series; Auntie Mame; Mr. Blandings Builds his Dream House.

Four places youÂ’ve lived: New York City; New Orleans; Paris; London.

Four TV shows you love to watch: I watch TV very rarely and while there isnÂ’t anything that I loooove to watch, I do regularly watch Antiques Roadshow; Monday Night Football (camera work is excellent); All Yankees Games; What Not to Wear (the Viking Bride loves it and so I watch with her).

Four websites you visit daily: Bloglines (to catch up on all of my friends); Little Green Footballs; Gmail; Westlaw.

Four of your favorite foods: Chili; Black Beans (love them mashed up with more chili peppers than a human can usually stand); Burmese food; and, Lobster Bisque (current craze, will order if see on menu without fail).

Four places youÂ’d rather be: Home with my kids; BEEEAAACH; Antigua Guatelama with the Viking Bride; the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Four albums you canÂ’t live without: Ok, there isnÂ’t any such thing. It changes all the time. ThatÂ’s just the way it is. That said, at the moment: Noce de Figaro (Mozart); Zydeco; Jimmy Buffet (or as the Boy Child says, Johnny Buffin!); the Talking Heads, the early stuff.

I'm going to add the following category since I'm such a heavy drinker:
Four of your favorite drinks: This was MicheleÂ’s and she was all about the tea. Not me, even if IÂ’m going to leave this up: Espresso; White Burgundies (tastes like liquid sunshine); diet grape soda from Polar Bear (so, sue me).

If you're reading this you may consider yourself tagged (if you like).

Posted by: Random Penseur at 02:29 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment
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Suppress your usual cynicism if you will and venture back with me to a more innocent time, to yesterday, actually. Yesterday was kind of a throw back to a more innocent time.

We awoke early, the children and I. After a quick breakfast, and under the gimlet eye of the Viking Bride, baker par excellence, the Girl Child and I prepared a batch of homemade chocolate chip cookies. We carefully measured, mixed, smelled, and placed spoonfuls of batter onto cookie sheets. We baked them and wrapped the results in tin foil clad paper plates – two of them – and placed bows on the packages.

Then we got dressed up and went off, the whole family, to deliver the cookies – one package to the local fire house and one to the local police station. Both to wish our public servants a happy new year and to thank them for protecting us and keeping us safe. The Girl Child presented both packages. It was a great success.

The firemen were quite happy to see us and the cookies and the Girl Child presented the package with her thanks and best wishes. The Boy Child immediately began agitating for the Fire Chief to open the package, to the ChiefÂ’s delight. The fireman then gave us all a 45 minute tour of the firehouse. The kids got to sit in the driverÂ’s seats of all the trucks, got to ring bells, and mess up the computers in the trucks. They showed us the equipment they keep on the rescue trucks and talked generally about some of the rescues they had been at. The kids got plastic fire hats they had to wear in the garage and on the trucks. It was just lovely.

Then, off we went to the police station. The Boy Child has kind of a thing about policemen. He sort of fears them. They have been involved in nightmares in the past (“Policeman come up in my bed and bite meg (pronounced my and means me in Norwegian)”). So, knowing this, the Girl Child issued the appropriate caution as we drove up: “Ok, Boy Child, when we get to the police station, you are not allowed to say, “Policeman dumb dumb”. The Boy Child promised. The police station was a bit more buttoned down than the fire station, more security, etc. But they still let us in and seemed really pleased to get the cookies. They asked for our name and address so, I hope, to send the kids a thank you note. The kids got badge stickers and life savers and we all got to see the communications room and say hi to the other policemen.

I think the kids really enjoyed everything. They had fun meeting people and learned, I hope, that saying thank you can be rewarding in and of itself.

Then we went off to the Gap. The kids got gift cards from the parents of our first nanny. The Girl Child referred to it as her credit card. We told them that the money was theirs and they could pick out whatever they wanted to buy with it. As you may imagine, the excitement level was high. The Girl Child chose a pick fluffy bathrobe (“Now we’re twins, Pappa!” (although I note that my bathrobe is blue)) and the Boy Child picked out some pj’s with cars on them. Both were very pleased with their choices. Very.

Then we took them off to lunch at a mediocre barbeque joint. The Girl Child and I colored on the paper tablecloth together.

Then, home for naps (mine and theirs!). Post nap, a clean up of the play room and incorporation of the new toys into the existing toys and dinner.

All in all, a genuinely lovely day, even if it was so wholesome as to make you gag!

Posted by: Random Penseur at 01:08 PM | Comments (11) | Add Comment
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1 Gag, no. Teared up, yes. Such a sweet way to start the year.

Posted by: Jocelyn at January 03, 2006 02:00 PM (jkRb/)

2 So sweet complete with new cavities! May I send my dental bill to the kids? Or to your attention? And right RP, your robe is blue...... ;-)

Posted by: Wicked H at January 03, 2006 02:30 PM (iqFar)

3 Too wholesome by far! Puke! (Has nothing to do with my raging nausea). Seriously, though, I'm sure the police & firefolks loved getting your thanks & treats. That's lovely.

Posted by: grammarqueen at January 03, 2006 03:26 PM (XzHwx)

4 RP, I just adore your children. What a wonderful memory this is going to be for all of you! And isn't that maybe the greatest thing about blogging? Being able to go back and re-read your thoughts and feelings and experiences whenever you want to. Bless you and your family and thank you for sharing this.

Posted by: Amber at January 03, 2006 03:52 PM (zQE5D)

5 I can't get the image of your fuzzy blue bathrobe out of my head. Gah! Must concentrate on the cookies!!

Posted by: Jim at January 03, 2006 04:10 PM (tyQ8y)

6 Fabulous day...and now I'm feeling this sudden urge to bake. I really want to teach Maya to do things for others as she gets older, so I'll file this away for future reference.

Posted by: Allison at January 03, 2006 04:31 PM (Bgxii)

7 You are one seriously lucky man. Of course, I'm sure you're aware of that. Now I have to go make cookies.

Posted by: Primal at January 03, 2006 04:34 PM (1a+hi)

8 Just so you all know, and especially you Allison if you are thinking of filing this away, I got the idea to do this out of starting to teach the Girl Child about the 911 emergency system, about what to do if there is an emergency and what to say. Then I realized that there was a good teaching moment here, a chance to show her who keeps her safe, who answers the 911 calls. And a chance to do something nice for those people. It was a combination of fun and learning. And Jim, stop picking on my bathrobe! It was a gift from my wife. Don't make me tell her that you were making fun of her gift. You don't want that.

Posted by: RP at January 03, 2006 04:42 PM (LlPKh)

9 You're raising them to be fine, upstanding citizens. They're awfully lucky to have you as a Papa, hon. And I know you feel you're the lucky one. So don't protest. {{ hugs }}

Posted by: Margi at January 03, 2006 07:41 PM (nwEQH)

10 Aah, I remember that plastic fireman's helmet. Sitting in the driver's seat -- Oh, what magic, what a dream come true! What wonderful memories you are giving to your children. So, when do they get to graduate from thanking their protectors to shooting off some .22 rounds of their own? I'd say about 8 years for the boy child. 2 more years for the Girl. Just commenting is all...

Posted by: Tuning Spork at January 05, 2006 11:30 PM (kaxtS)

11 That is the sweetest thing. There is a little three truck firehouse just at the entrance to my neighborhood, complete with resident Dalmation named Sparky. The guys love to see the kids from our 'hood coming up the back path through the woods, because they are always bearing goodies. I'm amazed those guys are able to stay so thin and trim sometimes. :-)

Posted by: Jennifer at January 06, 2006 02:09 PM (jl9h0)

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