Our Silent Partner

If one was to ask us about the members of our family we would list each other, our three daughters, our two sons, our two cats, and our dog. But there is a family member that we would be missing. That member is Chimney. Now Chimney isn't a member of the family in the traditional sense. Chimney lacks a circulatory system, doesn't eat, doesn't poop, and is by far the quietest of our brood.

It's the little one

Chimney is Merritt's constant companion.  If we are going on vacation, Chimney rides shotgun next to Merritt in her seat.  If Merritt is heading to bed Chimney is next to her on her pillow. When the zombies rise and begin to feast on the living, before we retreat to our subterranean stronghold, and begin our new life as mole people;   I better make sure that we have Chimney packed and secure.  If we forget that small bundle of fluff, I'm going to have to hack and wade my way back through the walking dead to retrieved our honorary family member.

Merritt inherited Chimney from her eldest sister about three and a half years ago and for a long time our 7 year old proudly announced to strangers that we have a pet wolf. A REAL PET WOLF NAMED CHIMNEY.

God help anyone foolish enough to doubt this claim.

I bring Chimney up because we are about one month into the beginning of the new school year. This timeline is in spite of my attempts at flying around the earth and increasing it's rotation thereby speeding up time. 

shut up and let people have fun

This has brought up memories of the last time we were in this place. I'm speaking of Merritt's first experience of show and tell. Being that Chimney had been Merritt's constant companion up until this point, and remains her buddy to this day, I assumed that her wolf was a slam dunk for the first show and tell.

Sadly her long term buddy had to wait until the next week and was superseded by this costume.

Wakanda Forever

I'm not opposed to my child dressing like T'Challa. Far from it. In fact, I think that all school uniforms should be Avengers based. I'd much rather watch the East County Asguardians take on the Central City Agents of Shield.   Hell I'd watch those teams in a golf tournament, and I don't even like sports.

I found myself worried about Chimney's feelings. It's a weird place to be in when you are in your 40's and experiencing anthropomorphism. 

Logically I know that Chimney is a stuffed animal, has no brain, and no ability to feel rejection. That being said, I made double certain that Chimney was placed next to Merritt for several nights following that event. You know... just in case. In case Chimney needed extra cuddles.  In case the stuffed wolf was sad. 

As parents, we are always worried about how our kids are going to turn out. We want our children to be kind, smart, clever, fun, funny, and interesting.  

I suppose that when Merritt decided to leave her life long buddy behind I was worried that our sweet heir to the throne of Wakanda was demonstrating a lack of empathy and concern for her friend.  I need reminders that sometimes my kids are just going to be kids. Being excited about a new toy is appropriate and doesn't mean that she's going to turn her back on friends later on in life. I have an amazing partner that gives me those reminders.

It turns out that so far my fears have been unfounded.

As I write this Merritt and her brothers are throwing a birthday party for Chimney. It consists of music, dancing, and a request for baked goods.  The sound track consists of songs that Chimney "likes". I have no idea how that selection criteria works or how today was decided as the day of her REAL pet wolf's birth.

The important thing is that Merritt is making sure that her friend being celebrated.  Just like a good friend should.

Cheers

L&P

Birthday Blues

I can remember how much I looked forward to my birthday and Christmas as a youngster. Without being weighed down by any knowledge of economics and the burden of Santa’s actual address, the sky was the limit when it came to not only what I could ask for, but also what I expected.

For several years running, I asked for a lightsaber. Not a toy one. A real one. One that could cut through things. A green one. A REAL GREEN LIGHTSABER.

This one

When I was a kid, the rule about opening presents was “no sour grapes”. In other words. Be thankful for the gifts you receive and no bad attitudes.

I think I did a pretty good job of following this rule but that didn’t mean that I didn’t suffer in silence when I realized that all of the gifts had been opened and I remained without my Jedi weapon of choice.

In hindsight, I do not blame my parents for this. After all, lightsabers would be a very irresponsible gift for a child and they do not exist.

Enter our son Oliver. 

Hi

In the unlikely event that you are unfamiliar with our fun family dynamic, I’ll quickly inform you that Oliver is our youngest of five children. He is also a twin. His birthday is December 23rd. Which, as my wife is fond of saying, means that he has to share a birthday with his brother and Jesus.

Meeting birthday expectations is already a steep climb for parents, steeper when said expectations are not grounded in physics or a realistic budget.

I have included an incomplete list of some of Oliver’s demands.

• That sword
• That power ranger’s Zord
• That thing on your back that you put two swords and then go like this (ninja like sword drawing maneuvers)
• That motorcycle
• That motorcycle too
• A dog with pointy ears
• A robot dog with pointy ears
• That thing that you put on a horse and you ride behind it and do this (indecipherable hand gestures)
•  A REAL power ranger suite
• All of the power ranger Zords
• A remote control Spiderman motorcycle
• That black remote control car that we saw at the store that one time
• A horse thing that you sit on (saddle?)
• That game
• A horse
• That game too
• A real robot that does that thing
• All of the video games
• A lightsaber

Since we live in the future most of the television consumed by our children is via streaming services, thus commercial free. On the rare occasion that Oliver (or any of our kids) does watch television with commercials the request list spikes considerably.

I don’t want to give the impression that our youngest is the only one making these requests.  He’s not.  However, he is the most vocal and repetitive of our quintet. On a slow day, Oliver has a cruising speed of approximately 55 RPH (requests per hour).

We typically acknowledge these requests with a canned, “We’ll see” or “Maybe”, or “Can you draw a picture of it that we can send to Santa?”, or “Maybe if you change the oil in the Subaru we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

We know that this is typical kid behavior. As mind numbing as it can be to hear the same request for the 100th time in a three-hour period we manage the frustration for the constant demands for our attention. He is not always going to ask us for things. There will be a day when he can buy all of his own things and we will be out of the loop. The tricky duality of parenthood is both looking forward to and dreading that day.

Maybe someday science will catch up with my kid’s demands and he can get that lightsaber. By then he will be old enough to responsibly wield it. Until that day, I have some shopping to do. By December 23rd these should be just about ready.

Cheers,

L&P

Quotable Quotes

Merritt is four years old now.

We decorated Unicorn horns.

She has been since May 3rd. It has been a challenge to get her to buy into this concept. Most conversations on the subject have proceeded as follows.

Me: Hey Merritt did you know that you are four years old now?

Merritt: No, I'm three.

Me: You turned four a couple of months ago.

Merritt: No dad, I'm only three, I'm not big enough to be four. See (stretches to her tip toes and reaches her hands as high as they can go), I'm not big enough. I'm only three.

Me: Merritt, are you afraid of being four?

Merritt: I don't want to be four.

Me: Why not?

Merritt: I want to be a little kid.

Me: You are still a little kid when you are four. Merritt you are always going to be my little kid. Even when you are five, even when you are six, even when you are sixty, you are always going to be my little kid. I love you so so much and I'm so proud of you and I'll never not be your daddy.

Merritt: ...

Me: So are you ready to be four now?

Merritt: I'm going to beep your nose now. (squeezes my nose) Beep.

And with that she turns on her heel and begins to play.
She isn't the only one that has come up with some memorable lines. This conversation happened between William and his mother several weeks ago late at night.

Beth: Are you ready to go to sleep yet big guy?

William: Yeth (he has a little bit of a lisp).

Beth: Do you want to go lay down in bed?

William: Yeth.

Beth: Wait, are you peeing on me?

William: Yeth!

Every morning that my work schedule allows me to be at home Oliver and I have the following conversation.

Oliver: Daddy, Where'd your glasses go?

Me: I think they are by the elephant (humidifier).

Oliver: Thinking thinking thinking (arms crossed with one finger tapping his chin. Then racing to retrieve my glasses and bringing them to me.) Where'd your phone go?

Me: Can you find it?

Oliver: It's a mystery! (Runs to where my phone is plugged in and brings it to me) I found it!

This exchange has some variety as occasionally Oliver suspects, "bandits" of taking daddy's phone.
I know that I need to appreciate these gems now because before I know it Merritt wanting to practice her "Inja Moves" (ninja moves), will turn into eye rolls. Oliver's bright eyed "Where'd it go?" when failing to hide large objects behind his back will turn into angry stomps into his room. And William's excited high pitched shrieks of joy will turn into passive aggressively ignoring our requests to clean a room, pick up socks, or empty a dishwasher.

I wanted to post these little memories here today because I know that when that transition happens I may need to reread this and remind myself of how adorable they once were.

Not that the older kids have been guilty of this. I'm just taking advantage of the tools at my disposal today.
I will close with one of William's knock knock jokes.

William: Knock Knock

Me: Who's there?

William: Madeleine.

Me: Madeleine who?

William: I"m not Madeleine!

Hilarious.

Cheers,
L&P