Where I share a few fun stories about my kids
Just before Thanksgiving, we went as a family to visit New York City, which included a trip over the river to Medieval Times. There, Leila got a “jewel,” a blue glass paperweight shaped like a cut gem. After the show, we went back to the hotel, and in the morning, the kids were playing with the stuff they got (CJ, of course, got a sword, because he loves swords). In playing, the kids entered the closet of the hotel room, where they encountered a hotel room safe. Leila, having a “jewel” chose to put her new acquisition in there, because a safe is there you put things that are precious. And, of course, as we were packing up, “the hotel room safe” was the last place that Duffy or I thought about ensuring things might be stored. I like to think that the next person who looked into the safe thought they had scored a major “found treasure” for a minute before inspecting things more closely and/or taking the glass paperweight to an appraiser.
We’ve been listening to a lot of music whenever I’ve been driving with the kids, lately — I like trying to push the kids’ preferences toward the stuff that I prefer. This doesn’t always work (preschool playlists combined with “Who Let the Dogs Out” and “What Does the Fox Say?” are the most often played songs in my car), but it does reap some benefit. Not too long ago, “Hey Jude” came over the speakers. After the song, CJ asked why Jude wasn’t answering.
To now, the six-month difference in age between my children hasn’t amounted to much, but lately I’m reminded of reading Stuart Little as a kid. Leila is trying, really hard, to get the concept of what kindergarten is, because the scope of her world is what she does at preschool. And I’m reminded of Stuart not knowing what the kid did when he went to school – but he knew that there were peanut butter sandwiches. And he wanted to go to school because he liked peanut butter sandwiches. Leila sees that I pack CJ a snack every day, which, almost always, includes either potato chips or mini-oreo cookies. She sees that, in his lunch box, every day, I include a Hostess cupcake. So she really wants to go to kindergarten because she wants the cookies & the cupcake.
I’m quick to admit that a big part of my reasoning for working out as I do is so I can pick up my children. Leila is truly turning into a “daddy’s girl” and asks for “uppy” whenever possible . . . and, even when I’m tired & grumpy1, I oblige the “uppy” requests. CJ, unless he’s so sleepy that he can barely walk (kindergarten is hard, yo) or is absolutely asleep, eschews requests for “uppy” unless I’m willing to pick him up, upside down, and then it’s for the adrenaline rush of being carried while inverted. I guess that’s what I should expect from “a kid growing up.”