Ode to Exhaustion

Dear Exhaustion,

Autumnal sun rises amidst the fog,
Whispers of winter wait in the shadows.
Three children stir and then so does the dog.
The clock khhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhijjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii

Who's That Girl?

Dear Girl Next Next Door,

Mini-Me is infatuated with you. It's cool that you two have started playing. He talks about you all the time. You're two years older and, thus, are wiser in the ways of the world. You're a take-charge kind of gal...some might say, bossy.

Mini-Me likes you a lot. You like frogs a lot. How long did you say you kept the one you caught from your friend's pool? I'm sorry to hear your mom made you release it back into the wild. Yes, it is fascinating to know that it will bury itself in mud to survive the winter. No, no, I believe your mom...I don't need to go look it up on the Internet. No you can't wade in our koi pond. His name's Eddie. No, we don't take him out of the pond and hold him. Please get out of the water.

As I was saying, Mini-Me likes you a lot. You're welcome to hang out in our yard any time we're home. I just hope you're not just using him for the swing set.

A Tight Knit Relationship?

Dearest Hat and Glove,

You don't know how much it means to me that we are reunited.

Hat, I thought I'd lost you forever. I was heartbroken and, yet, we'd only just met.

Glove, I didn't know you were gone until I was spiraling into despair over Hat. When I reached into Coat's pocket and found your mate, I was angry because I didn't find Hat. When I reached into Coat's other pocket and found nothing, I was angry because I didn't find Hat. Then I realized you were gone, too, and I immediately refocused on my search for Hat.

What?

You're the one who jumped out of Coat's pocket, plus you never really kept my hand warm anyway.

Hat, though? Marvelous Hat? Hat who keeps my head so toasty warm in FallWinter's crisp air? I mourned his loss. I scoured the house. I tore apart the van. I called in the National Guard. I cursed. I wept.

After minutes of searching I gave up and sat down to drown my sorrow in grading. As I pulled my stack of papers out of Backpack I caught a glimpse of a wicked smile. Hat jumped into my arms and our sweet, sweet reunion warmed my scalp.

Glove, I was okay with never seeing you again. It was quite the surprise, then, when I looked down as I dodged rain drops while dashing across the parking lot this afternoon and there you were, drenched, dark, dejected, delirious. I scooped you up and tossed  you on the floorboard of the van. You owe me.

The Missing Socks

Dearest Washer/Dryer Set,

All these years you've been blamed for stealing socks and you sat idly by in the dark recesses of the house, absorbing the abuse, never complaining, even though you knew you were innocent.

I'm sorry for slinging accusations.

Tonight I found two more socks in the back yard. I know you didn't put them there.

The evidence made this an open & don't touch case, what with the missing socks discovered compressed and encased in poop.

That couldn't have been you...only a Golden Retriever (or two) could be so diabolical.

If there's anything I can do to make up for this misunderstanding, please let me know.

I have some unmatched socks I'd be willing to feed you.

Much appreciation,

Doug

Many Apblogogies

Dear Noisy Little Adventures,

It's not you, it's me.

I know I've left you alone for too long...
I know the pain has been unbearable at times...
I know my excuses will fall flat.

But you know how the kids are...

And, well, um...there's other writing, too.
It's not prettier than you...please stop crying.
It's just writing I have to do...I didn't want to.
Please believe me when I tell you the lesson planning and grading means nothing to me compared to you.

I'm sorry.

And I'm here now...if you're willing to welcome me back.
Will you let me caress your pages, again?

The Budding Author

Almost a quarter of the way through Kindergarten and I'm amazed at the progress Mini-Me has made. He's known his alphabet for a while and was getting pretty good at writing his own name, but where he used to whine when we asked him to write, now he won't put down the crayons, pens, dry erase markers, or his absolute favorite, permanent markers. He's filling books and books worth of pages with his writing. In fact, he published his memoir the other day. I'm including an advanced copy of the manuscript below for your enjoyment.





He asked me how to spell 'author'...I misheard him.

Her ears aren't actually that large.

Yes, it's true...I make the kids call me "DadDaaDADDAW!"...and my knees are that large.

Note the attention to height detail in these last two.



I was incredibly impressed as I watched him put this book together. He was so proud of himself as he walked around the house reading it to Rach and I. Kindergarten's awesome!

Of course, amongst the many manuscripts I did find one journal, tucked deep in the piles of forgotten toys on our living room floor, that gave me pause. It seems he's become obsessed a la Walter Sparrow with the number 8...

 I'm sure it's just a passing phase...but just in case, I won't be letting him check into room 8 of any local hotels.

And I know that it's hard, hard, hard when you're loving it's hard...

And the leaves are brown
And they're falling down
And the summer's gone.
               -Aberfeldy

*I started this post on August 15th...I shouldn't be finishing it now since it's way past my bedtime, but I don't profess myself to be a smart man when it comes to sleep.*

---

I figured I'd have plenty of amusing stories to write about over the course of my first summer home alone with all three kids.

Last summer was awesome because Rach was home on maternity leave so we had lots of family bonding time and, with Mickey mostly eating, sleeping, and pooping, we were still in our man-to-man defense.

This summer it was just me and the kids...three against one on Mondays and Fridays...one-on-one Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursdays.

It was a beautiful plan and it worked out pretty darn well with the exception that not much got done around the house.
Having accepted that unfinished projects would remain unfinished, I figured I'd at least be swimming in blog related gold. By the end of summer I knew I'd have at least six food-related incidents, five "kids-say-the-darnedest-things" moments, four "I can't believe you just licked that!" gross-outs (The Wubster's sense of choice is apparently taste), three playground adventures gone awry, two "No! Don't stick that on the dogs!", and one sibling wrestlemania battlewound tale.

Instead it became the summer of the "I Hate YOU!"s and the "You're bad, bad, bad, bad, BAD!"s and the "Well, fine, then you're not my brother anymore!"s.

And I don't even have a brother!
Oh wait...the tantrums weren't mine...most of the time.

Mini-Me's emotional swings as he bridged the gap between preschool and high school(?) this summer were intense. For every happy moment we had together there seemed to be three breakdowns where nothing I said or did was right. I know he's five, but I'm a people pleaser. I like people to be happy with me. Thus, I struggled all summer long with doing what was right as a parent and finding the road least travelled to keep him happy.

The negativity zapped my motivation to write because I don't want to write about the negative aspects of our Noisy Little Adventures. For much of the summer that was all I could focus on, despite the immeasurable cuteness of The Wubster and Mickey (although they had their moments, too). It didn't help that bedtimes brought about the brunt of the emotional lashings...I looked forward to doing dishes to relax...look what he's done to me!

Luckily, kindergarten has started and we're all getting back into the school-year routine, which leaves much less time for tantrums. Mini-Me also seems to be handling his emotions better. He's finally taken our advice and pauses to breathe in deeply a few times when he gets upset. It's cute...until he upsets his brother on purpose and then tells The Wubster to "just breathe deeply...it'll calm you down."

It's also helpful that Mini-Me's focus isn't only on us anymore...it seems he's already smitten with a girl in his class, a girl he makes sure to refer to by first and last name, correcting us if we forget. He drew a picture for her in permanent marker (a source of a recent tantrum when I took it away to protect myself from adding any unfinished projects to my unfinished unfinished project list). At first I didn't realize the picture was for someone special, but when he got in the van Tuesday afternoon he filled me in on what had happened:

Hey, buddy, how was your day?
"Daddy, I didn't give the picture to Ava M. It's still in my backpack. I was going to give it to her, but I didn't want anyone else to see. I told her she could have it when she came over to my house."
Oh. Do you and Ava sit together?
"Ava M., daddy."
Okay. Do you sit together in class?
"No."
Do you sit together at lunch?
"No. Well, she wanted to sit with me at lunch but she didn't. She sat somewhere else."
Do you sit together in Art or Computer?
"No, daddy! We don't sit together!"
Okay, okay...I just was wondering when you guys talk. Does she play with you on the playground?
"No, daddy! Stop asking me questions!"
Fair enough.
[After five minutes of silence] "Daddy, Ava M says she likes Star Wars, too."

I didn't delve for any more information. I just let him bask in the wonderous feeling of meeting a girl who likes Star Wars, too.

Until dinner, that is, when I brought up the picture in front of Rach so she could see his reaction when talking about his new friend. The conversation was less than appreciated by Mr. Mini-Me who turned beet red while talking to his mom and sheepishly smile-screamed at me when I couldn't control my giggling over how cute he was...

"STOP LAUGHING AT ME!"
I'm not laughing AT you, bud, I'm laughing near you!
"YOU'RE LAUGHING AT ME!"
No, no, no...I'm not... [Mickey starts laughing] ...but Mickey is...

After that, we've stopped asking questions. After all, I don't have much room to talk...I was once a smitten kindergartener myself.

I hope you've all been well these past few months and that Fall's approach is treating you kindly.

May the coming months bring us many crushes and few tantrums!