Where I chronicle my kids’ cuter odd-habits

  • The other night, we went to the drive-in (honestly, it was my first time to the drive-in). Waiting for sunset, my kids were climbing on a large pile of rocks in front of the screen and I was sitting around, just keeping an eye on them. I looked over at Leila a few times & she asked “Dad, why are you looking at me?”

    I responded “I like looking at you, you’re pretty.”

    She, thusly, responded by flipping her hair and stating “Oh, I know.”

    My hands, they’ll be full with this one.

  • CJ and I continue to take karate together (though, lately, I’ve been playing a show that means that I haven’t been to half of the classes . . . it’s a little disconcerting to see CJ progressing in skills beyond what we learn in class — I mean, it’s good, but it catches me off guard). When I pick him up for class, I always try to make sure that I have snacks for him – usually some fruit and something sweet. Yesterday, he critiqued my selection, so I found myself restocking stuff to store in my truck while at Target that evening.
  • For Mother’s Day, the kids filled out a little sheet about their mom — according to Leila, Duffy is 6 years old. What’s funny is that I can tell you, precisely, why she would say that. Just like anything that happened in the past “happened last week,” Leila is acutely aware that she’s 4 years old, and is turning five. Anything beyond that, at this stage, “older,” which, to her, is “six.”
  • We’ve been big into reciting our full names . . . just in case the kids should ever have to talk to the authorities or something. I know it’s just a kid saying stuff, but CJ revealed that he thinks his name is “so boring.” I could only respond with “you may think lots of things about your name throughout the rest of your life, but, I assure you, Coltrane is not a boring name.”
  • Leila’s first dance recital is this weekend. I know there may come a time where I dread events like this . . . but, for right now, I’m giddy to see it.
  • For Mother’s Day, we ended up grilling at my sister’s house for dinner . . . my kids & her kids sat at a kids’ table & actually ate a meal, discussing Star Wars the entire time. The combination of geekitude and the kids all growing up & getting along, the kids actually eating what they were supposed to be eating (when they were supposed to be eating it), and being able to eat a meal without interruption . . . well, it all made me incredibly happy.
  • Leila has taken to carrying around a pen & notebook most anywhere she goes. She “writes down” things of note. However, my daughter is shy of five . . . she is barely aware of the letters of the alphabet — reading is beyond her. Writing? Yeah, it’s foreign. The other day, she came up to me & pointed to a scribble. “Dada, what does this say?”

    “Hmmmmm, I don’t know, Leila. But you’re the one who wrote it — what did you write?”

    “I don’t remember, Dad. And I can’t read!”

  • Every morning, I make Duffy a mocha – meaning that I have a good bit of leftover, frothed chocolate milk. Most every morning that the kids are awake as they leave the house (many a morning, we carry them to the car as they sleep), I offer them this little treat. They, knowing it’s a coffee ingredient, knowing they dislike coffee, and therefore thinking that I’m offering them something that’s “for adults” and something they don’t like, refuse the offer of chocolate milk.

4 comments

  1. All of this made me smile, but one thing I have to comment –

    When 6th grade comes and you realise you are attending your last elementary school Christmas concert you will remember writing about being giddy for her first recital and recognise that instead of dreading the recitals, concerts and games, that you never dreaded them, you loved every one of them and you instead will be wistful and melancholy that they are over so soon and your kids are growing up…

    1. Oh, I am absolutely longing for those moments when my La is on the stage. I can’t ever imagine growing tired of see her perform — but the rest of the recital? Well, I’m not dreading this one . . . I fear that will end on Saturday.

  2. Like Leila, Zoe will write down a random jumble of letters and then ask me to tell her what it says. So I guess we’re missing the “intentional” part of putting letters together, lol. I try my best and usually end up sounding like I’m hacking up a hairball trying to read her “words.”

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