\kids_and_family

2021.11.25Giving Thanks

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

Today is the day to look back on the year and be thankful for the many blessings I have.

I am extraordinarily grateful to my family and extended family for their presence and encouragement this year.

In the sense of "what's old is new again," 2020 taught us all about the value of health in a "new" way — the global COVID-19 pandemic. The news was filled with references to the 1918 flu pandemic, and Americans were asked to curtail some personal liberties for the good of all.

Last year I wrote, "I think our society may be forever changed by the pandemic — many of us (going back to the political division) have been wearing masks when outside of our homes for the last several months, and who would have thought, in 2018, that hand sanitizer and clorox® wipes would be such hit commodities this year?" Well, looking around the house, we have tons and tons of disposable masks, and I know right where those clorox wipes are.

But this year, my thankfulness for health is even greater than what we learned in 2020. This past April, I completely changed my relationship with food. I was obese, and I believe my diabetes had begun to affect sensation in my feet. So I decided not only to change my diet, but to allow my blood glucose readings (and I hadn't read it in years) to dictate what my diet would be. It was a bold and scary move, to be honest. And I'm incredibly thankful I made that change. Six months later, my weight is under 225; I'm wearing jeans with a 36" waist comfortably, and 34" waist less comfortably (BUT THEY'RE ON!) — I wore 32" waist in high school. I have more energy; my key values from blood sample analysis show levels within or very nearly within normal values — including and especially, my A1C (which dropped from 16+ down to 7), and cholesterol (which was halved). In three months, my diabetes became well controlled, and my eyesight actually improved by an entire diopter in both eyes — one of which no longer requires correction! After all of these shocking changes, I learned that my wife was secretly very concerned about my health and my weight. Health has become my top priority, and I'm so incredibly thankful for the encouragement I received from family, friends, and the medical professionals who consult with me.

2020 is a year in which being thankful isn't nearly as passive as previous years. The health I'm grateful for is earned by discipline — the discipline to cover our faces, the discipline to stay at home, the discipline to keep the outside world out and away. I'm thankful we've been able to remain healthy until now, and I ask for the strength and discipline to remain as vigilant over the coming months.
2021 really isn't much different, except that for me, the discipline went much, much further. I've been "eating clean" for six months, and I have seen — actually seen — the benefits. And so this year I ask for the strength and discipline to remain vigilant, and to remain healthy.



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2020.12.07Christmas Convenience

Image of a decorated Christmas tree

I can probably attribute the decision to a number of factors, but the bottom line is this: this year we opted out of setting up our full-length Christmas tree.

Maybe we did it because 2020 has been such an awful year anyway.

Maybe we did it because, quite honestly, getting it down from the attic, decorating it, putting away the boxes, then getting the boxes back down, putting everything away, and stowing everything in the attic again is SUCH a pain in the neck.

Yeah, probably that more than anything else.

Kiddo confirmed she was onboard, but we couched it in a particularly sensitive way: I green-lighted Laurel getting a new kitten, and reasoned that having a Christmas tree would just invite a lot of trouble we really don't need. Or want.

Kiddo's reply was basically that she's of the age where she cares much more "about the process" — dinner, gifts, family time — than in the actual tree.

Still, I feel like we're losing something by letting this go. Don't get me wrong — setting it up and taking it all down really is a collossal pain in the neck. But I've always loved to just sit and admire the lit tree at night. It takes me back to childhood, and memories of laying beneath the tree and looking up at the colored bulbs.

My grandparents had a tiny tree they sat on their console television set. When Christmastime would come around, they'd bring it up from the basement or bring it down from their attic and remove the garbage bag that covered it for it's spring/summer/autumn nap. My grandfather would go to the local bank and get us each a crisp, new $5 bill, and place them in money envelopes on the little tree. Once the holiday was over, the annual black bag job happened again, and the little tree — decorations and all — went back to it's place for its long nap. My grandparents were in their 70's in this story. They weren't into wrestling a 7' artificial tree down and up flights of stairs.

For some reason, especially this year, we get it.

Laurel bought a small holiday display we'll put up instead. I think it's a tree or trees in a sleigh. Pre-lit.

If we decide to bring down the big tree again, we can set the small one in a window facing the neighborhood or something. Speaking of the neighborhood, there are services that will put up lights on your house for you and take them down again. One such company (well, it was a guy, really) estimated his services were worth $700.00. I don't have the jingle in my pockets to afford that.

I'll miss the magic of the large tree. I know I will. But I'm not willing to pay the price of spending hours hauling all that shit up and down the attic stairs four times. At least not this year.

Perhaps this is a slippery, snowy slope: maybe we're headed for TV trays (my grandparents ate their dinner on them in front of their TV) next.



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2020.12.01Thankfulness Follow-up

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

Last week in my Thanksgiving post, I mentioned being thankful that Kiddo's situation was improving. I must remain vague about the situation, but I do have an update I can share.

The investigation — started by a mysterious third party — involves an exploratory component, performed by Child Protective Services (CPS) departments, and, if merited based on the results of the CPS investigation, a legal component, starting with an investigation performed by appropriate law enforcement (LE) agencies and the legal system. As I understand it, if the information produced by CPS fails to meet LE criteria for continuation, no further action is taken.

Our family here was interviewed by a Texas-based CPS agent as a courtesy to CPS of the other state (that's why "departments" was plural).

According to an update I received yesterday, Kiddo's stepmother is in the market for a lawyer to defend her son — which suggests CPS' work has met the threshold for LE involvement. It's the only detail I have, but it means a lot because it shows things are moving forward, and I am thankful for that.

My desired end game is that Kiddo gets the care she needs to be made whole. Our lovely Kiddo has been a hot mess. She has PTSD from the experiences — something she did not need on top of her Tourette's Syndrome. She's experiencing so much anxiety that it's seriously disrupted her sleep cycles, her eating, her ability to concentrate (which was frail to begin with), her senses of touch and personal space and security (she's not "a hugger" anymore; she closes every door behind her) and her scholastic performance — these are just the disruptions I have observed. For what it's worth, I'm told by experts that all of these are disorders (my word; probably incorrect) common to victims of the abuses she alleges.

These things must be made right.



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2020.11.26Giving Thanks

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

Today is the day to look back on the year and be thankful for the many blessings I have.

Last year, I wrote "Much like 2018, 2019 has been a very challenging year." 2020 has been "challenging" on a whole new level: a global pandemic has spread across the earth. The disease, commonly known as COVID-19 ("19" because it was discovered in China in 2019) apparently originated in bats and has evolved in such a way as to be alarmingly dangerous to humans. The disease is responsible for about 1.5 million deaths in over 61 million cases so far this year. In the United States, no leadership was shown from the White House — the Trump Administration preferred to downplay the virus and the need for protective measures — causing skyrocketing infections and the deaths of about 1/4 million American citizens. The Trump Administration also politicized the virus, causing a very strong correlation between party affiliation and views on protection. To be honest, yes, 2018 and 2019 were awful years, but they were nothing like the absolute shitshow 2020 is.

I and my family still seem to have our health — 2020 has made me more grateful for our health over everything else this year — but it comes at a steep price, and in a way that's different from what I wrote about last year. I've come to believe that it's easier for me to deal with the pandemic, having lived in Central America among a population hostile to Americans; but my wife and daughter haven't had that experience. I think our society may be forever changed by the pandemic — many of us (going back to the political division) have been wearing masks when outside of our homes for the last several months, and who would have thought, in 2018, that hand sanitizer and clorox® wipes would be such hit commodities this year? Hell, there was even a shortage of toilet paper because people were hoarding it! HORARDING TOILET PAPER?!

The American economy in particular was probably the most notable collateral damage of the pandemic reaching our shores. The Lieutenant Governor of Texas infamously told people to get out and work "because there are more important things than living." — I've actually got that quote memorized, because it was all over the news at least twice. He said that in a televised interview. I have been out of work for four months. My client simply "ghosted" me and the company I contract with. I found another job, but COVID has complicated things there, too — I can't get fingerprinted at the local police department because COVID is so rampant in the jails that they won't even allow their own DISPATCHERS to receive the service. In a nutshell, I have two jobs and have made no money for half the year. I'm thankful that our mortgage company has waived our payments during the pandemic. I honestly don't know what we would have done had that not happened.

Along with sickness, death, and health complications that can stretch far into the future, the pandemic has also brought with it isolation. Because COVID-19 spreads so rapidly, and because temperatures across the United States are cooling because we're now in autumn, smart people are staying as isolated as they can to stay safe. And that is taking a toll on our collective mental and emotional health. I am grateful for communication with friends over Facebook, and for being able to visit with relatives via text messages and telephone calls. My mother lives in a care facility. Facilities like hers are extremely susceptible to COVID-19 infection. I am very grateful the owners and caregivers there are keeping everyone safe.

This year, politics got in the way of a lot of friendships, and some of my friends left Facebook because of it. Trumpism has a very strong appeal for some, and there was no shortage of fighting over almost ANYTHING posted to Facebook. Anything about poltics or about COVID, both of which dominated pretty much everything about 2020, caused quarreling. I'm sad for the people who suspended or closed their accounts, because they perceived that something so bad had happened that they didn't want to be part of Facebook anymore, and selfishly because by doing that, they've opted out of reach. People I served with 25 and 30 years ago. This year on Veterans' Day I spent the day reaching out to particularly people who have become passionately conservative to say hello — to thank them for serving, thank them for our friendship, and to remind them that we have memories together that should be stronger than the current political climate. Some responded, some didn't. And that's okay. Even for some veterans, observance of Veterans Day isn't for everybody. I'm still thankful for each and every one of them, and the contributions we made.

I'm also very, very thankful that things with Kiddo appear to be improving. She has had another very difficult year, and we learned that she was attacked several times by her older step brother while she was in Kansas for the summer. Happily, somebody contacted Child Protective Services about it in Kansas, which contacted an office here in Texas; the incidents were investigated, and have been closed, which is something that must happen before law enforcement takes over. I've no idea current status, but I'm extremely grateful to whomever made the initial call. My wife and I only learned about it well after the fact. Kiddo's other dad completely disbelieves that anything happened, and went so far as to tell her she was sick, and not welcome in his home any longer. Our child needs our support, maybe more now than ever before, and I'm proud to be a part of that effort. Kiddo recognizes it, too — she has asked for my fullest commitment. We await for justice to be served.

I am tremendously grateful to have learned about my birth parents this year. I am very hopeful I'll hear back from the National Archives about my father's military record — I understand he was killed in action in South Vietnam in 1972. I've always had a respect for Vietnam veterans — it's part of the military culture — but now it's personal. It's very personal.

2020 is a year in which being thankful isn't nearly as passive as previous years. The health I'm grateful for is earned by discipline — the discipline to cover our faces, the discipline to stay at home, the discipline to keep the outside world out and away. I'm thankful we've been able to remain healthy until now, and I ask for the strength and discipline to remain as vigilant over the coming months.



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2020.11.14On Acceptance And Skepticism

As I have written in the past, Kiddo has Tourette's Syndrome. The syndrome part means it has multiple symptoms. Everybody who has TS has different combinations of symptoms — different disorders. No two people are exactly alike. That's why there's no TS medication on the market; treatment involves addressing individual disorders.

I would say Kiddo's most noticeable disorder is her OCD. It's a "force multiplier," in that it takes whatever intrusive thought or doubt or negative feeling she has and it MAKES HER focus on it, creating anxiety and making her feel worse, perhaps cyclically.

Kiddo also has a LOT of anxiety, which we recently learned is traceable to a series of events that occurred while Kiddo was spending the summer with the other half of her family.

For reasons I don't understand, and seemly coincident with the recent shift from Daylight Saving Time to Standard Time, Kiddo's anxiety has been through the roof. It's affected her scholastic progress — to the point where I got a call from the assitant principal of her school, threatening me with a visit from the Truancy police. (In kiddo's defense, she's been emailing her assistant the entire time — we have the receipts.)

Apart from her medicinal regimen, which I believe does a fairly good job at keeping her "level" under normal circumstances, we have looked into the benefits of cannabidol (more commonly known as "CBD", a naturally occurring compound found in cannibis which has been shown to reduce signs of anxiety). CBD is different from tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the psychoactive compound in cannibis. CBD is commonly sold in oil form, which is administered by a dropper, but may also be administered in other forms, such as inhallation through an electronic nicotine delivery system (ENDS), also known as a vape.

Here's where my problem starts.

I'm scared to death of vapes because of the widely publicized hospitalizations and even deaths of young people using "counterfeit" vapes. In these events, Vitamin E acetate was present in the lungs of these users; Vitamin E acetate is now known in interfere with normal lung operation. 1

Last night, Kiddo spent the night with a family friend who vapes. I don't know the exact circumstances, but basically Kiddo radioed home with news that she either tried or has an ENDS with a CBD vape cartridge, and that it was AMAZING. Her demons, spawned by her anxiety and stoked by her OCD, were absent: she had no hallucinations, no intrusive thoughts, and no seizures. Basically, she had the best night she's had in a long time — she's been scared to sleep in her room for MONTHS.

We'd suggested CBD oil in the past, and we are aware that absorption using a dropper takes time. (We even spoke to her psychologist about it, but at the time CBD was so new — at least, in Texas — that the legality of use had not been settled, and she was unable to weigh in.) Last night Kiddo inhaled whatever this CBD product was through an ENDS, and she claims her relief was nearly immediate.

Boy do I feel stuck. I watch her experience all of these awful things and feel so helpless to do anything about them — I mean, we have her in therapy, she's taking medications, and I can report observations and ask that adjustments be made, but those are strategic things, not tactical things, if you get my meaning.

Here, she seems to have a solution she can use prophylactically so she can avoid all these awful effects. What parent could NOT be in favor of something like that?

The sticky part for me is the potential for some sort of lung damage later on... or maybe a sort of addiction? What if she later gets into combination CBD+THC vapes, or uses one by accident? I have SO MANY questions... let's perhaps color it a "healthy skepticism."

I'm conflicted. I could be from 65% to 80% happy, 10% to 25% "healthily concerned," and around 10% worried.



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2020.02.25Credit Scores!

When we refinanced the house a year ago, we found a company willing to take a gamble on us. I remember when we were going through the qualifications and reviews and stuff, and the agent asked us what we thought our credit scores were. I honestly had no idea.

He told me what it was. It was ghastly. Like, low 500s ghastly. This, friends, is the lasting effect of spending every last dime and every penny of your credit on a move that ultimately will not be reimbursed via your tax return.

Still, he got us the refi, and we were grateful to drop our rate down to 4%.

Today, Laurel told me she wants to refi again. We're getting letters telling us we could get rates as low as the upper 2%s. But the real excitement came when she checked our credit scores.

We have worked very hard to get out of the crippling debt we incurred nearly two years ago. Laurel came up with a really good plan, and we've done our best to work it — I spent months putting in extra hours each week to make it happen, and Laurel cut out a few extras and sold stock periodically.

The payoff: my score is now just below 700. It's SUCH a great feeling — I tried to explain to kiddo what it means — I don't want her to be like I was: At 16, I was driving around without insurance. My parents never told me about car insurance or what it meant. My silent oath to my daughter is to make sure she at least knows there are things like this in the world. Sorry. I'm taking us off topic...

If another refi can happen and we can get a rate like that, we could pay more debt off with the money we'd save in not having a house payment for a couple of months, plus, of course, pay free up more money to throw at bills by saving hundreds on our mortgage payment. Another boost to my credit score should happen later in the year, when the note on my car is paid in full.

It's SUCH a great feeling. (I mean, I'm feeling good about my score, regardless of whether we can actually refinance again.)



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2020.01.05Building Technology Life Skills

Image of three teens looking at their mobile phones

Someone going by the name "HR Mom" made an intriguing Facebook post that talks about how woefully underprepared kids are to enter the workforce. Drawing on her experience as an HR professional, she has distilled a number of broad skills into small tasks which she assigns to her two kids. The objective is simple: to build in them those basic workforce skills so many lack when entering the market.

A lot of parents claim they give their kids devices so they can develop and keep their technology skills sharp. If we are not intentional about directing HOW they use this technology, they are likely to leave our homes with virtually ZERO actual marketable computer skills.

I'm an HR Director and my team hires entry-level employees on a daily basis... We hire so many young 20's who are downright addicted to their phones yet don't know the absolute basics of using technology and struggle with making and receiving phone calls. The anxiety levels these "kids" (new hires) face when they encounter even small amounts of conflict or gray areas on a customer call can be debilitating for so many of them.

As the Mom of a teenaged son, I thought I’d share some practical ways to prepare your kids for real-life use of technology needed for "adulting."

1) Have them conduct basic internet research for you...

Examples: Have them research the best way to kill weeds or find the cheapest price for fence replacement, etc. Have them find the cheapest rental car and hotel for your vacation. Talk to them about how reservations and insurance work and HAVE THEM CALL to reserve it. Let them fumble and make mistakes on the call while you're there to coach and encourage them. If they mess up, who cares? They need to practice while the stakes are low.

2) Have them call to pay any medical bills that come in. Show them where to find Date of Service and Invoice #. Sit with them and coach and encourage them through the call. Tell them what they did right/wrong and watch their confidence grow.

3) Have them call tech support any time something in the home goes down - internet, cable, water, A/C, etc. Let them walk through the steps for internet to come back on. This prevents your kids frantically texting you from college asking what to do.

4) Have them call to schedule their own haircuts, doctor and dentist appointments, and dog grooming appointments. Again, if they sound dumb or forget to say something or ask something, who cares? If they learned something, it was a success!

Her list continues. I'm a big fan. At the close, HR Mom claims "My boys (15 and 11) can confidently navigate self-checkout, withdraw cash from an ATM, pump gas, make phone calls with confidence, order groceries, manage an Excel "budget", order an Uber."

I love this idea, and am working to figure out how we can apply these lessons with kiddo in an effective and positive way. For us, I figure ordering dinner would be a terrific start: we'll coach her through it until she gets the hang of it, and eventually it'll become a task she can own.

Find "HR Mom" on Facebook.



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2019.11.28Giving Thanks

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

Today is the day to look back on the year and be thankful for the many blessings I have.

Much like 2018, 2019 has been a very challenging year.

I learned that the company I was working with was going to allow my contract to expire, because my position did not fit well with their changing vision. I am thankful I was able to find a position elsewhere, with a company who was willing to work with me to bring me aboard, in a position that appears to offer me a future, and my family some stability and peace of mind.

When I picked up this new job, I learned I could work extra hours for one of our clients, so Laurel and I devised a plan to use the extra hours to get rid of some debt by the end of the year. I'm incredibly thankful that we had to the opportunity to execute that plan, and to get a few artifacts from our suddently-NOT-tax-deductible 2018 move paid off.

The importance of ethics in business was underscored for me a time or two; I am thankful that, in both cases, honesty won the day.

Kiddo has had a horrible year, at one point spending time in a juvenile rehab facility to get her Tourette's Syndrome medications changed. It seemed much like she was wrongfully imprisoned; she saw some terrible things in her week there. I am incredibly grateful for her beautiful, light-bearing soul. We're at another time of change, moving her off of medications that have been causing seizures — particularly in the evenings. I am so grateful that I can be with her to watch her, to find her when she has fallen, and to be a familiar, smiling face for her to wake up to when seizures happen. She's away for the holiday, and I miss her. Maybe I'm grateful for her time away, in that she gets to see others in her family and give us a little time to drop our guard a bit.

This extra saving effort, along with other good decisions, also allowed us to make some small changes around our home. I'm thankful Laurel and I were able to give each other the gift of some fresh coats of paint over some of our neutral walls. Laurel's stability in her position afforded her occupation of the office in our home; I'd been working from home a few days per week from the kitchen table, then moved into the dining room. Laurel's gift to me was an overhaul of the dining room into an office of my own, complete with decorating the walls with various mementos from my military career. I'm especially grateful for this gift, because I feel I have a place in my home now that has been dedicated to me, as much as she has her space in the office. I'm also grateful for (maybe) having finally figured out that when she has a vision, it's my job to just let it happen. Any input I give gets overruled anyway. At least I stopped her from reframing all of my awards.

I'm also very grateful we've been able to make sure kiddo has a pretty rockin' Christmas holiday.

But most of all, I'm thanful for my family and for my health. Everything I've talked about so far all sort of traces back to money and my ability to earn it, and without those, I can't provide for those I love. The same is true of my health. I'm over 50 now. I'm in the zone where the powertrain warranty expires, and maintenance becomes more important. I'm thankful we found a healthcare provider at the start of the year (we had a delay in joining, because of the awful influenza epidemic here last winter), and I'm staying current. I could do better, but I'm thankful for what I have.

It seems weird that I mention family last, but without all the other things, I couldn't support them — and supporting them is entirely the point. I love Laurel and kiddo much much more than I can relate in words, and I am thankful for them every day. Every. Day. I wouldn't change a thing about kiddo — I love her with my whole heart with all of her tics and gestures and laughter and bloody noses. My heart aches for her, but even with all of her imperfections, she is my perfect child. And Laurel... I am so thankful for her ferocious love. We are both working from home now — I get to sit in my new converted office and admire her through her office doors; admire her poise, admire her skill with her people; admire the love they show her in return. I can't begin to recall all of the ways I'm thankful for who she is, for what she does, and for what she sees in me. And, I'm also very thankful she has friends who love her; she was able to take a weeklong trip with them to the coast earlier this year.

So I guess it all comes down to being thankful I was able to take care of my family this year. We've still some red on our ledger, but we're moving in the right direction.

I've so, so much to be thankful for. Despite all of the downs. We win some, we learn some.



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2019.09.26She turned my relaxation app into a fart machine

To help kiddo relax at bedtime, I offered her a copy of the TaoMix 2 app, which lets one create a mixture of pleasing sounds — birds chirping, a sea shore, rain, wind, that sort of thing. One creates custom "scenes" by dropping a sound icon onto the canvas. When playing, a circle moves around the screen randomly — like a screensaver might — and the sounds represented by the icons are played, based on the proximity of the circle to each icon... so if the circle is near two sounds, both sounds will be played. The sounds will become louder as the circle approaches and quieter as the circle passes. Neat stuff, great interface. She downloads it.

I even sent her a simple soundscape I made from just two elements, so she could see how the circle moves across and how the sounds respond. It looked like this:

About ten minutes later she presents me with her first custom soundscape; using audio from a TikTok video of an older woman noisily filling her pants, she covered — COVERED — the entire canvas with only that sound, effectively creating a perpetual pants disaster.

This is the same kid who, at 6, promptly used her new iPad to record a video of her aiming one super long booger right at the camera lens.

Technology per se is not the answer.



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2019.09.22Living with Tourette's: A Father's Perspective

It was a Sunday night, much like this one, about a year ago. Kiddo alights from the shower with what we now know was her first verbal and physical tics. She was making a weird sound with her mouth over and over again, and her head kept jerking to the side. She told us she was scared, because she couldn't control either of these.

It took us about four months for her to finally see a specialist, and to get a diagnosis. With the help of some well-timed video footage on our phones, kiddo received the diagnosis of Tourette's Syndrome. The recording made for an open-and-shut case in the eyes of the professional: Kiddo had "the trifecta" of behaviors that made her diagnosis a lock.

From the moment the school received the diagnosis through her last day of classes last year, the school was amazing to her. They even had a specialist speak to all of her classes — teachers and kids together — about what Tourette's Syndrome is and what it is not. When her symptoms elevated back in the spring, the specialist told us that the escalation was normal for that time of year.

Over the summer, her symptoms relaxed significantly: the stressors that were present during school life were absent over the break. But we did have one very uncomfortable event: she was actually institutionalized for a week, simply to execute a swift change of medication in a controlled environment. It was a hard week for us all — our poor kid was placed among kids who were drug addicts and suicide risks. It seemed a bit like going to the city jail to sleep off a bender and waking up among hardened criminals in prison. She was forced to do group therapy for several hours each day, and was horrified by the things the other kids shared — one kid even sharing that he had attempted to hang himself, but the ceiling didn't support his weight; so he tried to slash his arm, but ended up missing every vein. For her part, kiddo was embarrassed to have to say that she was only there for a change in her Tourette's medication.

But school is back in session and kiddo has upped her tic game (despite the medication change). She's not been attending classes for the past two weeks because her verbal tics force her to say awful things — things she's absolutely mortified about; things bad enough that the school doesn't want her around other kids. Tonight, on the eve of week three, she seems to be exchanging "the 'N' word" for something similarly vulgar, but without the racial element. I'm actually crossing my fingers that she'll go to class tomorrow. Sure, lots of kids are going to think she's spoiling for a fight, but at least they won't brand her a racist.

Verbal Tics

Verbal tics can come from absolutely anything with which she comes in contact. Internet content and conversations overheard are two major sources. She could hear something once and it'll stick around in her subconscious mind and get repeated as a verbal tic for weeks thereafter (she repeated the name "Kevin" for about three weeks earlier this year). Content she consumes often, such as clips from Vine or TikTok she can watch over and over again and may not develop into a verbal tic.

Physical Tics

Physical tics are a harder nut to crack. These are involuntary movements that can involve any part of the body. Last spring and again this fall, she won't have eaten lunch because she either can't physically hold a utensil to consume it, can't hold the food to feed herself, or tics in her arms throw the food. It's sort of like putting a baby in a high chair; you simply don't know how much food will go in the face, on the face, or on the wall or floor.

Although the tics most commonly force her to close her hands, others have presented in recent weeks. She's having trouble walking at times now, because the tics force her to kick, sort of like erratic goose-stepping. She's also experiencing tics involving her eyes, where she'll just sort of stop all other physical activity and her eyes will dart about for a few seconds. She claims she can't see when this happens, and she loses at least speech when it happens. She can hear and respond using her hands when it happens (say, tapping on the table) while one of these ocular tics is happening.

"Mental Tics"

A side effect of one of the medications she was on was producing uncomfortable thoughts. Getting her off of that medication was the reason she was in the hospital for a week. It was through that experience we learned about the role Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder has in the syndrome.

Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder

Part of what puts the "Syndrome" in the name of the disorder is that Tourette's is comprised of multiple factors. Among them, in kiddo's case, is OCD. So far, OCD is presented most commonly in the state of her bedroom, but it has also surfaced in the form of persisting certain thoughts.

Persistence

If I have something bad enter my day — like something I did to another person, or something someone did to upset me — I'll keep thinking about it. I'll mentally "grind" on it for a while, sometimes at the expense of sleep. This is something I understand about my personality.

Kiddo experiences this too, as a function of the compulsion aspect of OCD. In her case, she wouldn't be able to rid herself of some unpleasant thought. We learned these ugly thoughts were a function of her previous medication, and that the OCD was continually serving them up to her.

Cleanliness

I've a dear friend who is afflicted with OCD in a way that his environment must be maintained in a specific state of tidiness. The dress shirts in his closet are arranged in color order. The items on his desk have a specific placement. His world must be maintained in an orderly way. He has a huge heart and I love him dearly. As a layperson, I'd say his OCD is acute.

Kiddo's OCD is different; sadly, her compulsion is not toward cleanliness. Personally, I can't deal with clutter and crap. Maybe that's the military training in me. Kiddo's compulsion is in keeping things that are obviously trash. Example: for a while, before we knew about her Tourette's, kiddo wore breathing strips to bed. Now, these strips open much like latex bandages do: the product is sandwiched between two strips of paper. The paper is peeled apart to reveal the sterile strip. I would walk into her room and be apalled at the papers for these strips. They were everywhere — on the floor, on her dresser, on her bedside table. She knew these were trash, but something -- she didn't know what — something was preventing her from throwing them away. She didn't necessarily see these papers as valuable — she knew they were trash. But she couldn't close the loop on throwing them out. We now know that an element of compulsion was preventing her from throwing them away.

This compulsion extends to other rooms in the house. I'm constantly tidying up after her — shoes in the living room; detritus from lunch left in the dining room. I believe she is doing the best she can with these — I've seen her clear her place, rinse off the dish and silverware, and put them in the dishwasher. And it's amazing when that happens. But her compulsion prevents her from turning that moment of beauty and light into a wonderful habit.

Impact on Parenting

You know, this parenting thing doesn't come easily. When I started, the only reference I had was how my dad parented with me. I distinctly recall when kiddo was 4 we would put her to bed and she's sit there and talk for another hour. How would my dad handle this? He'd tell us to be quiet once or twice, then he'd get angry. So, I did the same. That's when I began to learn that kiddo would not respond the way we did. We were quiet. Kiddo got upset. My "What Would Dad Do?" reaction would just make things worse. Sometimes, way worse. I needed to figure this stuff out using a different tack.

I've had the pleasure of coparenting her for close to ten years now. Today, she's a teenager. In every sense of the word.

I read some time ago that children are rather slow to develop a sense for things outside of themselves, and to learn about how their actions impact the people and things around them. Those concepts don't really come into focus until their high school years. I also read that kids in middle and high school actually require more sleep than what we'd consider a normal 8 hours, because their bodies are growing and changing. The education system is actually planning or making changes to their model in response.

As a dad, it makes sense to adapt my model, too. Sleep is encouraged generally. But the Tourette's affliction makes sleep an even more precious commodity, because she'll often experience physical tics through the night. So when she sleeps soundly, I want to keep her sleeping soundly for as long as possible. Doesn't matter what time of day it is.

But I struggle with these a bit, because I really don't know how much of her habits is compulsion, and how much is a function of the process of maturity. Maybe the "why" doesn't matter all that much.

Kiddo's Tourette's Syndrome has made me a more compassionate man, because now I understand some things.

So now I understand why she can't keep her room straight. She's not a slob. She has an affliction. It doesn't anger me anymore like it used to. Now I accept it because I understand it's something she can't yet control.

Now I understand why she doesn't normally clear her place at the table, or why she leaves her stuff everywhere. She can't pick it all up yet. She has moments, but those are lovely surprises. Again, I don't get upset about it. I'm just thankful for the times she does it. I know she's trying, and that means a lot to me. (Besides, fighting the daily battle of keeping the place picked up keeps me moving at least once an hour, and that keeps my Apple Watch from barking at me. I'm on a Move Streak of 469 days.)

If we're out to dinner and her hands close up, I will feed her, and I'll explain our situation to a manager in case she feels she may have a bad attack.

If her arm shoots up and she exposes her middle finger (a common physical tic for her, I'm afraid), I'll put mine up right with it and cover her hand.

I'll do everything I possibly can to make her feel more comfortable where we are. I tell her, "Nobody knows us here," and for the most part, that's true. I won't hesitate to leave my comfort zone to make her feel better, if that's what's needed.

 

But the whole truth is I love that little girl more than anything else in the world. She's already had an example of an unresponsive parent; she needs to see what parents who love and cherish her and each other looks and feels like. Her affliction scares her to the point where sometimes she just does not want to be alone. I can't imagine that. I can't imagine having to go to bed wearing kids' Hulk gloves and a fucking boxing helmet so maybe my face won't be all bruised up the next morning from hitting myself. She knows what that is. I can't imagine having to spend a week in a mental ward with kids who share their pain about drug addiction and wanting to kill themselves. She's been there and done that. She didn't ask for any of this. So any way I can make any of it easier for her, I'll all in. And I couldn't be prouder of her nor happier to do it.



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2019.08.18UPDATE: Family Update: Downward Dog

August 18, 2018

Papa passed quite quickly in May. And I say "quite quickly" in relation to a weekend as opposed to the many years of his full life. The lowlights of his disease were that he was on a relatively low-sloped decline until he experienced a trauma — he fell and broke his collar bone -- which accelerated its progress dramatically. Over the next few months, words, around which he had modeled his life, would increasingly flee until he was saying few if any actual words at all. Dementia was for him a cruel and sinister irony.

Fast-forward to June. The dust has begun to settle for Yaya, who has determined she will stay in the house but look for opportunities to move to a smaller place in town. Kiddo has completed a very successful year in middle school. Bartlett, our older dog, has been slowing over the past couple of months; it's become obvious his hearing is significantly diminished, and his gait has slowed, but he still likes to romp and play with his kitties now and again. Laurel and I are preparing to move the family.

By early July, we're in at the new house. The cats came in the first trip in my small car; the dogs came in the second in the larger SUV. Laurel and I had been talking quite a bit about countermeasures for keeping the dogs from falling into the pool, but we first wanted to see how well they'd do with all of us outside with them on their first visit to the back yard.

The yard is mostly pool. The back door, at the north side of the yard, exits onto a patio which leads directly to the steps down into the kidney bean-shaped pool after about 20 feet. The pool was obviously made for relaxation or very gentle exercise; its maybe 5' deep at most. The absence of any sort of barrier between patio/yard and pool strongly suggests children were not part of the install equation. What grass there is is on the south side of the yard. Plenty there for small animals; one just has to guide them along the walkway between the house and the pool to get to it.

As I said, I've spent a few cycles on how to ensure the dogs' safety, with inputs from both Laurel and kiddo. But then the big moment arrived, when we could watch them in the yard for the first time and determine whether they — chiefly, Bartlett — could navigate the shoreline on his own.

We hadn't been outside for 30 seconds. I had only walked out a few feet — far enough to deposit my towel before going into the water — when I turned to see Bartlett standing at the bottom of the pool. He was out of the house for SECONDS and walked straight off the deck into the water. We viewed this as a prime indication of how poor his eyesight has become — and wouldn't have believed it without this event.

I started this post talking about Papa for a reason. And here it is: I find there is stunning similarity between Papa's trajectory and Bartlett's. To be clear, I am certain Bartlett suffered from, essentially, dementia. Like Papa, Bartlett was on a slow decline until a trauma. For Bartlett, it was falling into the pool.

He was underwater for perhaps five seconds. Kiddo and Laurel were pulling him up within three. By the fifth second he was in our arms and being carried to the deck. We watched him pretty closely for a day — he slept very, very soundly that first night. The following day he seemed a little slow. But by the end of two weeks, much about him had changed. His gait had become stiff and extremely slow. His steps were uncertain. He would stare at walls. He would yelp when touched from a direction he couldn't see. We'd consulted a local veterinarian who prescribed some medication to make him hungry again, and Laurel cooked some nice food for him to eat. But through the second week it was clear it wasn't having enough of an effect.

Laurel and I spent the past few nights wondering if he would wake the next day. I made the call to the vet's office on Friday. We were slated to put him to sleep at noon the following day (today).

This morning we saw even more evidence that we were doing the right thing: a liquid mess in the back yard which suggested stomach problems, and, as we walked him into the vet's office, urine that was alarmingly dark. Our boy was shutting down, and he knew it. When Laurel found him this morning, he was asleep in a corner of her office — an unusual place for him. Laurel interpreted it as him going to a remote place to die.

Our new vet was beautiful. She had absolutely the right words for us; she knew we were grieving. It's... it's difficult to meet somebody when you've been "ugly crying." Laurel and I spent probably twenty minutes on the floor with our boy — the first ten just laying with him and petting him; the second ten, doing the same, but lulling him to sleep after receiving the sedative. The doctor even kissed her palm and placed it on his head. She could tell were were both absolutely devastated at having to bring him in, and she made me feel like her heart really, really went out to us.

I don't know if the other animals have figured it out yet. The younger dog watched me completely dissolve into tears over Bartlett minutes before we left with him. But because Bartlett had been so sedentary over the past few days, I don't know if the pup (I say "pup," but he's like seven years old now) or the cats have done the math because he hadn't been moving from room to room as do the rest.

I'm particularly curious about how the pup will adjust. Pup isn't like Bartlett; he's not got the sense about him to be "one of the family." He's a dog through and through, nothing more. That doesn't mean Laurel doesn't love him to pieces -— she absolutely does. He just doesn't have that je ne se quois that transcends; that -ness that tells one very clearly he's some Gestalthund. What pup usually IS, though, is jealous: he got so unbelievably mad whenever we would separate Bartlett from him. It gave me the idea that he was certain Bartlett was getting to do something fun and he was stuck not getting to do whatever amazing thing Bartlett could. To be honest, he was right about that some of the time. Bartlett, for his part, absolutely hated being separated from his little buddy. He would yowl inconsolably when pup was gone for vet appointments and the like.

I hope Spirit Bartlett will visit him. Pup is such a nervous little dog.

 

UPDATE: Pup finally got the memo. It's taken a few weeks. Last week we had an awful lot of rain (for this area, anyway), and some thunder-bumpers were part of the package. We have a good product called Thunder Shirts to help keep them calm despite the commotion outside (they're good for fireworks, too!). Anyway, the Thunder Shirts' design is a little complicated, and it's not so easy to tell which shirt goes onto which dog. As the storm was approaching, Laurel placed one of the shirts onto pup, and figured out pretty quickly it was the wrong one (by size) — but pup had already taken a big sniff of it, and the math was well underway. He sniffed at the fabric some more, and Laurel could see him recognize Bartlett's scent, then remember him, remember he was ill, and realize he's been gone for a little while. Pup became sad and sort of moped around the house for the day.

Pup has had a behavior late in Bartlett's days of hiding treats. Laurel would give them each a biscuit; Bartlett would drop it on the floor and forget about it, so Pup would later pick it up and eat it, or, as time went on, he'd hide it someplace where he knew Bartlett couldn't get at it. The hiding behavior became noticeable after we'd moved and Bartlett was in steep decline. Kiddo and I would find dog bones (the biscuits) under our pillows at night. Probably the best "hiding" job I saw was when he'd turned one of Laurel's flip-flops onto its side by a wall, and placed the biscuit behind it.

Since pup's epiphany last week, the hiding has stopped. We'd figured he was doing it in response to Bartlett's assertion of dominance through food control. Here we've at least circumstantial evidence to suggest that was the case.

Finally, I think other behaviors have changed in Bartlett's absence, and for the better. I sort of wonder if pup is actually happier without Bartlett, insofar as he no longer has to compete for attention; there's no reason for jealousy, much like there's no reason to hide biscuits. I know pup could display some amazing jealousy where Bartlett was concerned; he would bark his "mad bark" whenever Bartlett was allowed out front of the house and he was put in the back yard. With those days behind him now, I hope pup will feel happier and become a better friend to us all.

August 18, 2019 - One Year Later

I wanted to offer a few words one year on from the previous post on this topic.

Bartlett visits us from time to time. Kiddo senses his presence occasionally, as she does with Papa. Yaya actually saw Papa earlier this week — clearly enough to note that he stood in the doorway wearing a blue shirt. But Bartlett checks in on us from time to time. I still miss him terribly.

Pup has matured very well over the past year. To the best of my knowledge, he has stopped hiding treats — there's no threat. The cats love him and they don't care one bit about his bones. Today, his favorite things are watching me eat and being where we are — he gives me little kisses on my ear when I'm in the water at the edge of the pool, because that's about the only time we are eye-to-eye. For as much of a pain in the ass as he was when he was younger, he's really grown into being a great little dog.

I think we all also recognize that pup wouldn't play well with another dog in the home. I'm pretty sure he'd be fine with another kitten at some point, but not a dog.



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2019.08.18On Kiddo's Relationships

I share my daughter with another dad. I moved my family to Texas over a year ago. Before moving, the other dad essentially sued my wife for custody of kiddo. It was a waste of resources — both his and ours. Had he simply talked with my wife instead of throwing his laywer at us, he likely would have arrived at a very similar arrangement we currently have. Our arrangement essentially involves her traveling up to see him over long weekends, some holidays, and over the majority of the summer.

Kiddo's extended family is comprised of her dad, his wife, and her teenage son. The boy hasn't had an easy life — he lost his father at a young age, and has — or had — nothing but resentment for his mom's new husband.

This summer, kiddo had a few hiccups and we had to end her vacay early so she could have some medication issues worked out. Since then, kiddo's relationship with her extended family has been strained. She has come to feel that his stepson takes precedent over her; kiddo feels like a second- class citizen when she visits.

Distance hasn't made the heart grow fonder. Since school has started, she has hung up on him on a few calls.

My feelings aside, I can tell that kiddo is looking for closeness right now. She needs reassurance that her place is solid and her (other) family dynamic is strong. So I've been working extra hard to provide that for her.

Although I have no standing in the matter, I feel -— having been a child of divorce too -— that she shouldn't have to make the trip to see him if she doesn't want to. I don't dare actually suggest it, though.



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2019.08.17Mom is Slipping

Image of an elderly woman and her caretaker. Image credit: GIS


I'm losing my mother. Little bit by little bit, call by call. I guess I've suspected this for a little while, but today's call was different.

Just different enough, perhaps, to make it more than perceptible — different enough to suggest alarm.

A couple of weeks ago she called me to tell me how proud she was that she was able to frustrate a scam artist. She was so happy that she managed to challenge him enough into finally hanging up.

Today I saw the bill — she may not have fallen for his fake Publisher's Clearinghouse pitch, but she managed to rack up a $140 bill for the call: She doesn't understand that on mobile phones both parties pay to talk; who called whom is meaningless.

When I called her today, I told her about the bill, but I'm not certain she understood what I was saying. I wasn't going to be crass and tell her that she'd blown our budget; she may be 80, but she deserves to be treated with respect. I made my point in a way that approached the boundary but not so subtly that anyone might miss it. She didn't appear to pick it up. She didn't react in a way that suggested she understood me. Arguably, she might have just been hoping the issue would fall to the riverbed of an otherwise flowing conversation, so she might reflect on it later; but I'm uncertain.

I don't want to treat her like a child. Yes, she's 80, and she never worked to understand the technologies that became so common over the past twenty or thirty years: computers and cell phones and Wi-Fi and all remain unexplored. (I found myself explaining yet again the difference between the mobile phone and its service, and what between them is paid for and what is paid as a monthly bill.) Twenty years ago her eyes would just glaze over as I'd try for the umpteenth time to explain what a virus scan was and how to do it.

So my current countermeasure is to enable some protection from my service provider. The good news there is I won't have to install anything on her phone — it's done through the network. That's a relief.

I guess I'll continue to monitor our conversations in the coming weeks, but today made me feel like I have to explain more and work harder to get points across. I'm hoping she was just mystified by the technology.

During the call she noted that it's hard for her to get around to places outside of her retirement home — noting that loading her walker into a car is inconvenient. Additionally, she mentioned on the call that she knows she's living in a place where people come to die.

I admit I wasn't prepared to respond.



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2019.06.29A Turn of Good Luck

We had quite a day here yesterday.

Among the good news: Our kiddo is getting her medications sorted out; our "other kiddo" got married; and I got a job offer. About the only way it could have been better — realistically better, I mean — would have been if Laurel's promotion had finally come through.

Here are some details:

  • Last school year, kiddo finally got a diagnosis of some peculiar behavior she'd been having since a couple of months after the start of the school year. That diagnosis is not the kind of thing a parent wants to hear, but receiving it is worth celebrating when your kid is suffering, because it unlocks all kinds of assistance for your child. Anyway, a few months ago, the specialist increased her dosage on a particular medication, and, as it turns out, kiddo started having some pretty unsavory thoughts starting at about that time. That kind of behavior is apparently a known side effect of this specific medication. So she has been admitted to a behavioral hospital for analysis and observation — but the biggest benefit of admitting her is that a new medicinal regimen can be started immediately. Without that, it could have taken weeks to get things switched around. We are confident she is getting put on the right track, and, at this point in the summer, it should set us up for a greatly improved school year. *

  • Laurel and I have a sort of quasi-daughter. She and Laurel met several years ago and they just kind of hit it off. When she learned that the girl needed help, she offered to let her live in our home for a short time. And in that time, she really turned her life around. So I couldn't be prouder to have learned that she got married yesterday!

  • I have been doing contract work since last September. I thought I was on a good trajectory for converting to FTE, but my new director has other plans. This is a big problem for me, because company policy specifies I cannot contract with them for more than a year at a time without a significant break in service (like 90 days) — and nobody can afford to leave a job, not work for 3 months, and then return. Well, nobody I know. So I've been quietly in the market since that conversation. Yesterday one of the companies I've been speaking with notified me of their intent to offer me a position, and I'm elated. Details have yet to be discussed, but more on this will follow if I accept the offer.

  • And speaking of jobs and offers, Laurel is a very good candidate for a more senior position with her employer. She's been through three rounds of interviews, and apparently there's another to come. As I understand it, she'll be one of three in the entire company doing this kind of work; seems to me they want to be sure they get this right. So while we didn't hear anything about it yesterday, I'm hopeful good news will reach her ears in the coming days.



*Now, I wrote all of that stuff about kiddo before we went to visit her yesterday. Holy Hell. It felt like we were visiting kiddo in jail — about all that was missing were orange uniforms on the kids and bars on the doors. We were restricted from bringing ANYTHING in with us to visit her — no mobile phones, not even sunglasses. Most of the patients are there for either drug overdoses or attempted suicides — I suspect their daily regimen is geared toward these — so they're all in group therapy sessions most of the day. Kiddo described one boy who said he tried to hang himself, but whatever he'd tied the rope to on the ceiling broke; so he tried to slash his arms, but he missed every vein. So in addition to feeling out of sorts with the structured environment and all the strangers, she doesn't really have anything in common with the other patients, either. She hates group therapy because she's forced to talk about herself and her feelings and all, and she's really uncomfortable with that. I tried to offer what comfort I could by reminding her that she's never going to see any of these people again, so she really could "let it all out" — get everything off of her chest she's been holding in; it's an opportunity to spill to complete strangers she'll never see again. We sat with her for an uncomfortable hour. And we'll do it again today. Hopefully she'll have had more sleep.



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2019.05.16Ten Years After Laurel's Cancer Diagnosis

10 YEARS CANCER FREE

Laurel was diagnosed with skin cancer ten years ago today.

She has told me it was the event that made some very important decisions for her.

Every year, I mark the anniversary of her diagnosis, and the anniversary of the day she got the news that she was cancer free.

I usually commemorate these occasions with flowers — she loves flowers. This year, for the tenth anniversary of her cancer diagnosis, I did something very special.

A couple of years ago, in commemoration of her cancer scare, she selected several flowers that have significance for her and asked her mother, an artist, to draw them for her. She then took that finished drawing to a highly talented tattoo artist, and had it committed to her skin. Her mother took it a little further and painted the flowers as a watercolor, which I had framed.

So this year, I took a digital photo of the watercolor and sent it to a local flower shop (I later used it to make the images you see here). Today I expect that shop to deliver a replica of that piece as a floral arrangement. I'm very curious to know if she'll realize it. My surmise is that she'll see customary bright flowers, but I don't know if she'll catch on.

Every year when I order flowers for these occasions I end up somewhere between misty and completely bawling to the poor clerk taking my call. Not this year: This year, I saved it until I typed this.



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2019.03.01UPDATE: The Day (Hasn't Yet) Arrived

Photo of a shark jumping out of the water

Well, it's happened. I'd heard nasty rumors that kiddo had develped hair in her pits, which meant we were on a six month clock for... this.

Kiddo dutifully reported, with a measure of pride, that she'd had some spotting yesterday. And just like that, Operation Shark Week went into effect. She went to school today with a few extra items in her backpack.

I'm not having an easy time with the news. For as much of a hypochondriac as she has been, I fear she'll become a "regular" in the school nurse's office again (she described the new nurse this year as an 'A-hole,' by the way).

I can't imagine the amount of Zoloft the middle school nurse must be taking.

 

 

UPDATE:

I saw this post from two years ago in This Week in halfgk History and couldn't resist an update. As it turned out, it hadn't begun. Actually, it *still* hasn't begun.

She's had a little spotting from time to time, but Aunt Flow has yet to visit.

She's 13 now, and halfway through her 7th grade year. It's gotta be coming soon, right?

I wonder if medications she's taking are affecting this?



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2019.02.10Family Update: Laurel and the Brain Aneurysm, One Year On

When I opened Facebook yesterday morning I didn't expect to be greeted by a photo I took of a Jacksonville restaurant. It was the first place we visited when Laurel felt up to walking around after her surgery to clip a brain aneurysm.

We were staying in an economy hotel about two miles from the hospital. We lived in a room on the third floor for three weeks — buying groceries every few days to cram into the tiny refrigerator or sit on the small countertop above it. She slept so much those first few days, but gradually her strength returned, and we spent some time together walking the beach and dining at local places. In that three weeks she showed me how brave she really is.

Today Laurel is every bit as bright and beautiful as ever. Yesterday she got a new tattoo in memory of her late dad; she now has a tattoo for each member of her family. Last night we all got pedicures — five of us — our family plus two very good friends of Laurel's, one of whom flew in from out of town. She sat in the chair and just beamed, she was so, so happy.



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2019.01.20First-Time Teening

Image of a crowded shopping mall. Image credit: GIS

Today, I hit a parenting first.

I gave our newly-minted teen permission to join a couple of friends at a mall.

I recognized the friends' names, but I still had questions, and you can believe I asked them. I really tried not to make it too taxing on kiddo -- I still recall the millions of questions I got from my mother every time I wanted to do things. Happily, we've enjoyed some technological revelations since then — like mobile phones and GPS.

Perhaps the biggest motivator for me was having answers to the questions my absent wife might ask. I damn sure was not going to get mama angry at me for letting her go without copious detail backing me up. I copied down as much info as I could about the kid whose parents were driving — well, I got as far as the phone number when the kid texted that they were out front.

Coat on. Shoes on. Not just kiddo — ME TOO. I went out to the car to say hello and thank the dad for shouldering the responsibility. Then when I got inside I scribbled down his name and a description of the car.

I figure that as these trips become more common, and the parents of her circle of friends become known, I won't have to go to measures like these. But I'm a first-timer here. A first-timer with a brand new teen in a metroplex of 8 million. In the town where I grew up, we had two malls — one was popular and one wasn't. Not with kids, anyway. That mall was maybe three or four miles from our house, an easy drive. One story, with department stores on either end. This place? The mall has valet parking, and its shops aren't exactly Spencer Gifts and Things Remembered — they're more like... places I can't pronounce with items I can't afford.

I had even written down what kiddo was wearing. I was not messing around. I helped her organize what to bring, and wrote that down, too.

When mommy radioed in from her shopping trip, I gave her the scoop, and probably volunteered more information than I should have. Turned out she and her girlfriend were headed to the same place. I texted her what kiddo had on, and even gave her the mobile number of the friend she was with.

I'm sure I probably recorded way too much metadata in preparation for the event. But, in my defense, she was about to leave in a car with people I haven't met for a giant mall I don't know well and am not sure I could even get to. I figure spending some ink and paper and asking a question or two is a small price. I made certain though that I didn't give her the grilling I used to get.

Besides... *Opens Find My Friends app on phone*... there's no need.



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2018.11.22UPDATE: On Giving Thanks at Thanksgiving

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

First, I need to get something off of my chest: I have never been one for the "let's go around the table and say what we're thankful for" kind of thing at Thanksgiving, because I feel its an act of performance.

Being thankful — and the things, people, events that people are thankful for — should be a private matter. Making one list these items only invites trouble, because "obligations" tend to intrude. Thoughts like, "I'd better say I'm thankful that lush Uncle Jerry and tightwad Aunt Margaret made the trip, because I'm seated right across from them."

I like my thankfulness unrehearsed and uncoerced. I don't want social pressure to inform what I should or shouldn't say. Every time I've been made to do this, I've tried to assemble my words as the people before me were taking their turns. That's what makes this such an awful exercise.

I've spent the last few months not feeling very thankful. I lost a job that I really loved; I lost a house and a neighborhood I really loved. Selling the house ate through all of the savings I had left, and now I have a massive tax bill because of the penalties. I was without work for two months. All of this shattered my confidence and made me feel "less than," despite none of it being my fault. My exercise and diet routine was shot completely to bits — through a combination of change in routine, losing my motivation, and stress. No, I'm not thankful for any of that. At least, not yet.

Here's what I am thankful for: Through all of that amazing awfulness, my wife and daughter and their love have kept my spirits fairly buoyant, along with the friendship of others. I'm thankful for a new employer who was willing to work with me to help me get back on my feet, and I've been showing them a wealth of gratitude. I'm thankful I was able to save my mother in law's life — that's hard for me to write — and I'm thankful we're all getting along in this tiny house. I'm thankful our daughter is doing so well in school, and of how proud she makes me. I'm thankful for new friendships in unlikely places, and new pursuits. I'm thankful I can cook for my family and still talk to my mother. I'm thankful mom sold her place and moved into a care facility. I'm thankful for guidance and for new experiences. No, my life is not what it was, but I feel like I'm on the mend — and I'm very thankful for that.

I'm saying that, even in hard times, we can probably find things to be thankful for. There's a lot about my life that has absolutely had me down over the past couple of months. Someone once said, "it's not how many times you get knocked down that counts. It's how many times you get back up." These days, it's not hard to find somebody who has things worse than you do. That exercise in itself is a measure of thankfulness.

A year ago this week, the neighborhood got together and spent a couple of hours packing boxes and bags of food for people in need in our community. I need to make time to do that more often. Because it's one thing to be thankful for the blessings in your life. But to BE a blessing in someone else's life is another thing entirely.

2018 UPDATE:

I read this post today, a year on. And I wanted to share my thoughts. 2017 was a very difficult year. 2018 "ain't been no picnic" either: Papa passed away in April; I moved the family down to Texas for a job in the summer — I was $15K in the hole from moving expenses and was making my first payment on a new mortgage when that company started slashing jobs right and left, leaving me with a tremendous sense of guilt for uprooting us all and putting us in this mess. It was a shame I carried semiprivately for a while — despite picking up a contracting job nearly right away. Despite all of this, I'm so very thankful for the love and encouragement of my family to get me through.

We're lonely there - on its surface, it seems it would be difficult in a city of eight million. I work among a hundreds of contractors from overseas who prefer their native language over English at least. I've been working there for two months and only one man among them has bothered to acknowledge me enough for us to exchange pleasantries. (I have sort of made friends with the barista downstairs, though.) Laurel has managed to coerce a coworker to move up from Austin — she's so happy to have a friend in town now. We're back "home" for the holiday week, and I've been reminded of numerous connections we simply don't have where we live now. Facebook isn't the same as being in the same room and laughing your faces off with each other.

So right now, we have each other. And I don't think it's a stretch to say that we're both so grateful for that. Without love, all of this would be pointless.



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2018.09.23On the Texas Life

I've decided to split out content related to our Texas move into it's own web form, and keep the family life content just focused on family events (funny things the kid says and so on).

The new Texas Life web form has content related to the move, the new house, settling in, and so forth. Please join us there for all things Texas... y'all.



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2018.09.08Rain, Rain, GO AWAY

For the third time this week, I'm actually pumping water out of my pool — somewhat unconventionally — because the rain has filled it to its maximum height.

The National Weather Service keeps extending their river flood warnings because the rain won't move out of the area.

We totally need the water, but this is too much, I'm afraid. We're having to add water to our pool weekly — sometimes more than that — during the hot summer weather. But really. Having to dump water OUT of it three times in a week??



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2018.09.04Family Update: Kiddo Got a Big Ol' Boot

One of my coworkers, who is very ways in the ways of volleyball, called it a "rite of passage."

Got a call from the school nurse this morning. This wasn't kiddo's previous "frequent flyer" kind of behavior: she rolled her ankle during this morning's practice.

Two hours and fifty bucks later, she's sporting a shiny new boot — complete with air bladders to improve its fit. X-ray imagery shows no break, just a pretty fair sprain. Doc says she'll be showing off her new footwear (single) for the next couple of weeks.



Link to this

 

2018.08.18UPDATE: Family Update: Downward Dog

Papa passed quite quickly in May. And I say "quite quickly" in relation to a weekend as opposed to the many years of his full life. The lowlights of his disease were that he was on a relatively low-sloped decline until he experienced a trauma — he fell and broke his collar bone -- which accelerated its progress dramatically. Over the next few months, words, around which he had modeled his life, would increasingly flee until he was saying few if any actual words at all. Dementia was for him a cruel and sinister irony.

Fast-forward to June. The dust has begun to settle for Yaya, who has determined she will stay in the house but look for opportunities to move to a smaller place in town. Kiddo has completed a very successful year in middle school. Bartlett, our older dog, has been slowing over the past couple of months; it's become obvious his hearing is significantly diminished, and his gait has slowed, but he still likes to romp and play with his kitties now and again. Laurel and I are preparing to move the family.

By early July, we're in at the new house. The cats came in the first trip in my small car; the dogs came in the second in the larger SUV. Laurel and I had been talking quite a bit about countermeasures for keeping the dogs from falling into the pool, but we first wanted to see how well they'd do with all of us outside with them on their first visit to the back yard.

The yard is mostly pool. The back door, at the north side of the yard, exits onto a patio which leads directly to the steps down into the kidney bean-shaped pool after about 20 feet. The pool was obviously made for relaxation or very gentle exercise; its maybe 5' deep at most. The absence of any sort of barrier between patio/yard and pool strongly suggests children were not part of the install equation. What grass there is is on the south side of the yard. Plenty there for small animals; one just has to guide them along the walkway between the house and the pool to get to it.

As I said, I've spent a few cycles on how to ensure the dogs' safety, with inputs from both Laurel and kiddo. But then the big moment arrived, when we could watch them in the yard for the first time and determine whether they — chiefly, Bartlett — could navigate the shoreline on his own.

We hadn't been outside for 30 seconds. I had only walked out a few feet — far enough to deposit my towel before going into the water — when I turned to see Bartlett standing at the bottom of the pool. He was out of the house for SECONDS and walked straight off the deck into the water. We viewed this as a prime indication of how poor his eyesight has become — and wouldn't have believed it without this event.

I started this post talking about Papa for a reason. And here it is: I find there is stunning similarity between Papa's trajectory and Bartlett's. To be clear, I am certain Bartlett suffered from, essentially, dementia. Like Papa, Bartlett was on a slow decline until a trauma. For Bartlett, it was falling into the pool.

He was underwater for perhaps five seconds. Kiddo and Laurel were pulling him up within three. By the fifth second he was in our arms and being carried to the deck. We watched him pretty closely for a day — he slept very, very soundly that first night. The following day he seemed a little slow. But by the end of two weeks, much about him had changed. His gait had become stiff and extremely slow. His steps were uncertain. He would stare at walls. He would yelp when touched from a direction he couldn't see. We'd consulted a local veterinarian who prescribed some medication to make him hungry again, and Laurel cooked some nice food for him to eat. But through the second week it was clear it wasn't having enough of an effect.

Laurel and I spent the past few nights wondering if he would wake the next day. I made the call to the vet's office on Friday. We were slated to put him to sleep at noon the following day (today).

This morning we saw even more evidence that we were doing the right thing: a liquid mess in the back yard which suggested stomach problems, and, as we walked him into the vet's office, urine that was alarmingly dark. Our boy was shutting down, and he knew it. When Laurel found him this morning, he was asleep in a corner of her office — an unusual place for him. Laurel interpreted it as him going to a remote place to die.

Our new vet was beautiful. She had absolutely the right words for us; she knew we were grieving. It's... it's difficult to meet somebody when you've been "ugly crying." Laurel and I spent probably twenty minutes on the floor with our boy — the first ten just laying with him and petting him; the second ten, doing the same, but lulling him to sleep after receiving the sedative. The doctor even kissed her palm and placed it on his head. She could tell were were both absolutely devastated at having to bring him in, and she made me feel like her heart really, really went out to us.

I don't know if the other animals have figured it out yet. The younger dog watched me completely dissolve into tears over Bartlett minutes before we left with him. But because Bartlett had been so sedentary over the past few days, I don't know if the pup (I say "pup," but he's like seven years old now) or the cats have done the math because he hadn't been moving from room to room as do the rest.

I'm particularly curious about how the pup will adjust. Pup isn't like Bartlett; he's not got the sense about him to be "one of the family." He's a dog through and through, nothing more. That doesn't mean Laurel doesn't love him to pieces -— she absolutely does. He just doesn't have that je ne se quois that transcends; that -ness that tells one very clearly he's some Gestalthund. What pup usually IS, though, is jealous: he got so unbelievably mad whenever we would separate Bartlett from him. It gave me the idea that he was certain Bartlett was getting to do something fun and he was stuck not getting to do whatever amazing thing Bartlett could. To be honest, he was right about that some of the time. Bartlett, for his part, absolutely hated being separated from his little buddy. He would yowl inconsolably when pup was gone for vet appointments and the like.

I hope Spirit Bartlett will visit him. Pup is such a nervous little dog.

 

UPDATE: Pup finally got the memo. It's taken a few weeks. Last week we had an awful lot of rain (for this area, anyway), and some thunder-bumpers were part of the package. We have a good product called Thunder Shirts to help keep them calm despite the commotion outside (they're good for fireworks, too!). Anyway, the Thunder Shirts' design is a little complicated, and it's not so easy to tell which shirt goes onto which dog. As the storm was approaching, Laurel placed one of the shirts onto pup, and figured out pretty quickly it was the wrong one (by size) — but pup had already taken a big sniff of it, and the math was well underway. He sniffed at the fabric some more, and Laurel could see him recognize Bartlett's scent, then remember him, remember he was ill, and realize he's been gone for a little while. Pup became sad and sort of moped around the house for the day.

Pup has had a behavior late in Bartlett's days of hiding treats. Laurel would give them each a biscuit; Bartlett would drop it on the floor and forget about it, so Pup would later pick it up and eat it, or, as time went on, he'd hide it someplace where he knew Bartlett couldn't get at it. The hiding behavior became noticeable after we'd moved and Bartlett was in steep decline. Kiddo and I would find dog bones (the biscuits) under our pillows at night. Probably the best "hiding" job I saw was when he'd turned one of Laurel's flip-flops onto its side by a wall, and placed the biscuit behind it.

Since pup's epiphany last week, the hiding has stopped. We'd figured he was doing it in response to Bartlett's assertion of dominance through food control. Here we've at least circumstantial evidence to suggest that was the case.

Finally, I think other behaviors have changed in Bartlett's absence, and for the better. I sort of wonder if pup is actually happier without Bartlett, insofar as he no longer has to compete for attention; there's no reason for jealousy, much like there's no reason to hide biscuits. I know pup could display some amazing jealousy where Bartlett was concerned; he would bark his "mad bark" whenever Bartlett was allowed out front of the house and he was put in the back yard. With those days behind him now, I hope pup will feel happier and become a better friend to us all.



Link to this

 

2018.07.28Family Update: Downward Dog

Papa passed quite quickly in May. And I say "quite quickly" in relation to a weekend as opposed to the many years of his full life. The lowlights of his disease were that he was on a relatively low-sloped decline until he experienced a trauma — he fell and broke his collar bone -- which accelerated its progress dramatically. Over the next few months, words, around which he had modeled his life, would increasingly flee until he was saying few if any actual words at all. Dementia was for him a cruel and sinister irony.

Fast-forward to June. The dust has begun to settle for Yaya, who has determined she will stay in the house but look for opportunities to move to a smaller place in town. Kiddo has completed a very successful year in middle school. Bartlett, our older dog, has been slowing over the past couple of months; it's become obvious his hearing is significantly diminished, and his gait has slowed, but he still likes to romp and play with his kitties now and again. Laurel and I are preparing to move the family.

By early July, we're in at the new house. The cats came in the first trip in my small car; the dogs came in the second in the larger SUV. Laurel and I had been talking quite a bit about countermeasures for keeping the dogs from falling into the pool, but we first wanted to see how well they'd do with all of us outside with them on their first visit to the back yard.

The yard is mostly pool. The back door, at the north side of the yard, exits onto a patio which leads directly to the steps down into the kidney bean-shaped pool after about 20 feet. The pool was obviously made for relaxation or very gentle exercise; its maybe 5' deep at most. The absence of any sort of barrier between patio/yard and pool strongly suggests children were not part of the install equation. What grass there is is on the south side of the yard. Plenty there for small animals; one just has to guide them along the walkway between the house and the pool to get to it.

As I said, I've spent a few cycles on how to ensure the dogs' safety, with inputs from both Laurel and kiddo. But then the big moment arrived, when we could watch them in the yard for the first time and determine whether they — chiefly, Bartlett — could navigate the shoreline on his own.

We hadn't been outside for 30 seconds. I had only walked out a few feet — far enough to deposit my towel before going into the water — when I turned to see Bartlett standing at the bottom of the pool. He was out of the house for SECONDS and walked straight off the deck into the water. We viewed this as a prime indication of how poor his eyesight has become — and wouldn't have believed it without this event.

I started this post talking about Papa for a reason. And here it is: I find there is stunning similarity between Papa's trajectory and Bartlett's. To be clear, I am certain Bartlett suffered from, essentially, dementia. Like Papa, Bartlett was on a slow decline until a trauma. For Bartlett, it was falling into the pool.

He was underwater for perhaps five seconds. Kiddo and Laurel were pulling him up within three. By the fifth second he was in our arms and being carried to the deck. We watched him pretty closely for a day — he slept very, very soundly that first night. The following day he seemed a little slow. But by the end of two weeks, much about him had changed. His gait had become stiff and extremely slow. His steps were uncertain. He would stare at walls. He would yelp when touched from a direction he couldn't see. We'd consulted a local veterinarian who prescribed some medication to make him hungry again, and Laurel cooked some nice food for him to eat. But through the second week it was clear it wasn't having enough of an effect.

Laurel and I spent the past few nights wondering if he would wake the next day. I made the call to the vet's office on Friday. We were slated to put him to sleep at noon the following day (today).

This morning we saw even more evidence that we were doing the right thing: a liquid mess in the back yard which suggested stomach problems, and, as we walked him into the vet's office, urine that was alarmingly dark. Our boy was shutting down, and he knew it. When Laurel found him this morning, he was asleep in a corner of her office — an unusual place for him. Laurel interpreted it as him going to a remote place to die.

Our new vet was beautiful. She had absolutely the right words for us; she knew we were grieving. It's... it's difficult to meet somebody when you've been "ugly crying." Laurel and I spent probably twenty minutes on the floor with our boy — the first ten just laying with him and petting him; the second ten, doing the same, but lulling him to sleep after receiving the sedative. The doctor even kissed her palm and placed it on his head. She could tell were were both absolutely devastated at having to bring him in, and she made me feel like her heart really, really went out to us.

I don't know if the other animals have figured it out yet. The younger dog watched me completely dissolve into tears over Bartlett minutes before we left with him. But because Bartlett had been so sedentary over the past few days, I don't know if the pup (I say "pup," but he's like seven years old now) or the cats have done the math because he hadn't been moving from room to room as do the rest.

I'm particularly curious about how the pup will adjust. Pup isn't like Bartlett; he's not got the sense about him to be "one of the family." He's a dog through and through, nothing more. That doesn't mean Laurel doesn't love him to pieces -— she absolutely does. He just doesn't have that je ne se quois that transcends; that -ness that tells one very clearly he's some Gestalthund. What pup usually IS, though, is jealous: he got so unbelievably mad whenever we would separate Bartlett from him. It gave me the idea that he was certain Bartlett was getting to do something fun and he was stuck not getting to do whatever amazing thing Bartlett could. To be honest, he was right about that some of the time. Bartlett, for his part, absolutely hated being separated from his little buddy. He would yowl inconsolably when pup was gone for vet appointments and the like.

I hope Spirit Bartlett will visit him. Pup is such a nervous little dog.



Link to this

 

2018.05.14Family Update

It's been an eventful few months, to say the least.

  • Papa: Papa passed a couple of weeks ago. The family has been reeling. It's one thing to know in your head that that one's time is short; but I find that knowledge doesn't really prepare one for the actual event. He passed with his family all around him, telling him it was okay to go.
  • Yaya: My heart breaks for her. Papa's now actually gone, not just apart. 51 years together. And here she is at 80, confronted by the loss of friends all around her (many are moving to care facilities or out of state to be closer to family for care) and by having to learn all sorts of things for herself that Papa always took care of — this, coupled with her physical condition, is why staying in the house isn't a good option. She knows this, but is reluctant to move out and move on. At least now, once the dust settles from Papa's passing, she'll get a firm sense of what she'll be able to afford — Papa's care prevented any sort of accuracy in forecasting.
  • Me: Six months ago we moved in with Yaya to prevent her from being alone over the winter (it wasn't the original plan). After a short contract with a company on the east coast, I've landed with a company in the south and will be moving my family down there in the short term.
  • Laurel: Her brain aneurysm was corrected in February, and is fully recovered from surgery. Last month, she completed her masters program, and now has an MSML — a Master of Science in Management and Leadership. I couldn't be more proud. She's excited about the move -- she has her father's way of being excited about new opportunities and new things to do, and takes the bumps along the way in stride.
  • Kiddo: Has powered through her freshman year of middle school and the end is in sight. She's excited about the move too.



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2018.02.17Family Update: Laurel and the Brain Aneurysm

Overview

Four years ago, Laurel was diagnosed with a stable, unruptured, fusiform brain aneurysm on her middle cerebral artery (MCA) in the area above her right ear.

Procedures for removing aneurisms in the MCA are performed by choking the aneurysm off with a microsurgical clipping technique, performed via craniotomy, while most others can be treated using a coiling technique which is performed using a minimallly invasive endovascular method. The methods are significant to us because Laurel's aneurysm, being located on the MCA, makes it a poor candidate for use of the endovascular method.

I'm going to be updating this article day-by-day. Please check back often!

January 28, 2018

We are preparing for a trip to Florida tomorrow. We're not visiting Disney World or even going on vacation. And we're not bringing kiddo with us. It's a getaway for two... to the Mayo Clinic.

The Mayo Clinic was Laurel's choice of medical practice for taking care of her aneurysm.

I think it's fair to say the discovery is what really pushed Laurel to have the vertical gastric sleeve surgery in 2016. The resulting weight loss resolved a number of problems that would have added certain risk to the procedure we're preparing for in the coming week.

For my part, I am working very hard to convince myself that we are in the place we're meant to be in right now. Faith in that notion ought to relieve me of the stress I'm feeling.

January 30, 2018

The Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville is comrpised of three interconnected buildings. One can walk from one building into another and never really know one had changed buildings. The Cannaday and Davis buildings contain clinics and administrivial functions, and they are on opposite sides of the Mayo Hospital building.

We arrived in Florida on Monday evening, and on spent most of Tuesday moving from clinic to clinic as directed, often repeating information we'd told the previous clinician. We started in the Cannaday building, where we met Laurel's physician and talked strategy.

We also found at the time that Mayo never received the image files from our local hospital. This, in part, is what put us on track to schedule a diagnostic cerebral angiogram.

The angiogram is essentially comprised of a probe, which gets inserted into the body, a dye, which gets injected into the body, and a large machine which captures images from the probe's point of view. At least, that's how I understand it. The angiogram was itself a surgical procedure, albeit a minor one.

UPDATE:
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, and Jill a dull girl. We're in Florida for goodness sakes. We're looking to spend at least a little time in the sun. So earlier in the day we got a recommendation for a seafood place, and tonight we visited. I give you the Safe Harbor Seafood Company, right on the water.

Photo of the 
      enclosed deck at the Safe Harbor Seafood Company

The blackened Dolphin and blackened Trigger were outstanding. The conch fritters were a trip back in time for me.

January 31, 2018

We reported to the Mayo Hospital at 6 AM on Tuesday morning and, due to unforseen circumstances, didn't actually have the procedure until close to noon. The angiogram took about an hour and a half. It still ended up being a very long day.

We spent the evening just laying around watching TV and ordering in. We ordered from an American gastro pub and the food was awesome. Laurel got caught up on all the grease and carbs she'd been missing, and we slept pretty well.

Perhaps part of the reason we slept so well was the phone call we received from the neurosurgeon's nurse — we were able to schedule the craniotomy for next Monday.

February 1, 2018

Today is Wednesday. We slept in until 9 AM — even after having napped for a little while the preceeding evening. We've a consult scheduled with the neurosurgeon for early this afternoon.

The surgeon told us a little bit about the craniotomy, and the risks involved. The plan is for an incision behind the hairline beginning above the ear and extending upward toward the top of her head, then basically folding the skin forward to expose the bone. (My palms are getting sweaty as I type now.) There were two considerations he pointed out:

  • There is a network of nerves that seem to originate from the area of the ear and radiate forward to the face. Among these is a nearly invisible nerve which connects to the muscle used to raise the eyebrow. If the nerve crosses the "fold" of the skin, it is possible that the ability to exercise the eyebrow muscle may be temporarily retarded after the surgery. Think of it like what would happen if you were to fold a garden hose over onto itself.
  • There is a muscle attached to the skull called the temporalis which protrudes downwards from the skull and wraps around the jaw, at which point it's known as the masseter muscle.

    A cutaway image of the left side of the human skull, including the temoralis muscle
    Image credit: Duke University

    The neurosurgeon explained he would have to make a split in the temporalis to get to the bone beneath. A byproduct of the incision is some affect the act of chewing, probably until the muscle heals.

    There's also some concern about the split causing atrophy of the portion of the split closer to the face as a result of decreased blood flow, which could result in a minor disfiguration near and behind the zygomatic process, which is the portion of the skull at your temples. The neurosurgeon characterized this as happening to most, but cosmetically noticeable in some.

    an image of the front of the human skull, with names of various features
    Image credit: Wikipedia
We'll likely ask more questions about things when we meet later this afternoon.

A note on yesterday's angiogram: Laurel doesn't seem to be experiencing any discomfort today. The incision site (I guess I'll call it that) looks good, and only minor bruising is starting to appear. She was good last night, staying off of her feet and letting me handle picking things up off of the floor. She hates not being able to do for herself, but she's a good patient.

UPDATE:
It's later in the evening. Our appointment with the neurosurgeon ran very late — we didn't actually talk with him until over an hour after our appointment time. During our visit, he answered every question we threw at him, but we came away with a very nice (??) overview of what will be involved with the procedure on Monday.

One other thing we learned was why the CT scans from our local hospital are still important to him: CT scans offer context the angiograms don't. Put another way, the angiograms highlighted the MCA and the aneurysm, but blacked out everything else. The benefit of the CT scans, even though they're less precise, is that they show the MCA and the aneurysm in relation to everything else - the bone, muscle, and other tissues beneath and above.

The neurosurgeon is considering ordering a CT angiogram (CTA) in case the local hospital doesn't come through with the scans they did last August. A CTA differs from a standard CT scan in that the scan includes the injection of a dye to increase the definition of veins and arteries in the image.

The surgeon described Laurel's procedure as a right pterional craniotomy. Google it at your own risk. Also, Laurel's aneurysm is located on her MCA at a position roughly equal to the Sylvian fissure, which is the boundary separating the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. This is a huge bonus for us, because it means no navigation will be required inside the brain.

One of the things that will happen at the close of the procedure is that they will inject a fluorescent dye into Laurel and monitor her circulation to ensure the clip is stable and that they didn't adversely affect anything else. I likened it to when automotive technicians added a fluorescent dye to the gas in my car, then went under the hood with a black light to look for compromised seals.

Finally, there's an additional side effect to the procedure. Laurel may experience some temporary swelling in her right eye as a result of a pooling of fluids. The swelling will go down.

At this point, we're in vacation mode until Monday morning at 6:30 unless the surgeon orders the CTA; and the surgeon ordering the CTA means they were unable to get the imagery from our hospital at home.

February 2, 2018

Slept in again. We were up late, having driven down to St. Augustine for dinner with friends at the Gypsy Cab Co.

Today is about administrivia: extending the hotel and car reservations and so on, plus picking up a few odds and ends at the grocery store: our coffee creamer supply is critically low.

It's nearly noon, and we've not heard from the clinic. This seems to suggest they received the imagery they were looking for, and didn't order the CTA.

We don't have any big plans for the day.

P.S. - if you've ever questioned the value of the trip insurance offered by the airlines, here's a tip: Laurel bought the trip insurance for this trip, anticipating (correctly) the chance things might not go as originally planned at the hospital. The trip insurance will reimburse us for all costs related to our extended stay. After burning through all of the hotel rewards points I had left, the extended reservation still cost over $2,000. Add to that the cost of food, rental car, and so forth... it's significant.

UPDATE:
We drove to St. John's Town Square this afternoon. I got a great photo of Laurel reclining for a pedicure with a mimosa. Dinner tonight at J. Alexander's. The paneed hake (rhymes with "make") with lemon butter crab sauce was insanely good.

After dinner we walked around the square and did a little browsing.

And our creamer shortage has been resolved.

One last thing for tonight — I went down to stick my feet in the hot tub for a few minutes and came upon a guy drunk on Bud Light who was really touched by the notion that the hotel caters to Mayo Clinic patients. I made the mistake of mentioning Laurel's impending procedure and he offered (several times) to give me his phone number so I could call him on Monday if I wanted to talk. His advice to me was to stay positive and "move on," by which I think he meant to just take things as they come and not to dwell on them. He may have been completely wasted on cheap beer, but that doesn't mean the advice was bad. I thanked him by calling and asking the front desk to look in on him when I got up to our room — I didn't want him alone in or near that hot tub in the condition he was in.

February 3, 2018

The drunk guy from last night was at the hot tub again this morning when we came down for breakfast.

We ended up driving back to the airport to swap rental cars. Our first one was a Dodge Journey, a small SUV. It was a brand new car, but the infotainment center was rather bizarre and it had no back-up camera... it's surprising how much we've come to depend on those things. Our new rental is a Ford Explorer with navigation and a back-up camera. I guess the iPhone interfaces with the infotainment system via an app that has to be downloaded and installed.

All cleaned up and pretty again, we'll be heading out for some lunch at either Taziki's or PDQ, then we'll head east to see the beaches — it may be 60° and overcast, but hey, it's not snowing.

We're now on what we'd call the second leg of our trip — that is, we've reached the point where our original reservations have expired and extensions or new reservations have taken over. It's why we drove the original rental car back to the airport this morning to exchange it for another.

This afternoon we drove out to Jacksonville Beach. It was probably about the worst day we could have visited: cloudy and super windy.

Photo of Neptune Beach
      in Jacksonvile Beach, Florida.

We spent maybe 20 minutes walking along the beach and immediately sought out a coffee shop to warm up. (We found a Starbucks a few blocks away.)

February 4, 2018

Super Bowl Sunday started out with rain, although it's warmer than yesterday -- it's 66° as of 10:30 EST.

We're planning to hit up a shop or two today — scarves for Laurel to wear around her head post-surgery, and I'm in need of some better footwear (I've been walking about in my slip-on Chucks — great for airport security lines; not so great for all the walking we've been doing).

We'll figure out what time the game is on and order in. I'm certain today is like Black Friday for pizza shops.

I've been noticing that Laurel has been spending a lot of time surfing Jacksonville real estate. Today we spent the afternoon walking through model homes in two separate real estate developments. She wore me out. But we saw two models that were laid out really, really well.

So in preparation for the Super Bowl, we ordered a deep dish pizza from a local place named Siena's Italian Cuisine — we opened the heavy box to something resembling a cheese wheel. They provided a marinara sauce to go over the top. Wow was it good!!

We tuned into only the last couple of minutes of the Super Bowl. I had been following along via intermittent queries to Siri while Laurel watched every episode of Worst Cooks in America — it's funny how every television we own or watch for an extended period seems capable of only receiving the Food Network and the Travel Channel. Anyway, we caught the last couple of minutes when it was looking like the Eagles might actually pull it out... I'm glad Philadelphia is bringing home the Lombardi Trophy, and that the Patriots seemed professional and gracious about the loss.

February 5, 2018

5:15 came awfully early this morning, following an uncomfortable night before surgery. Laurel was wheeled into the O.R. at 8:30 AM on the dot, with a little pain medication in advance to help with anxiety. It seemed like the decision and all it entailed suddenly left the realm of academic exercise in the five minutes before she left. And in a way, I'm very grateful — I had been the one doing all of the crying up to this point.

I'm crying because they're cutting my beautiful baby's head open. I know they're doing a good thing — although I still can't quite let go of how close the call was between operating and leaving it alone. When it's over she's going to have screws and fancy washers holding a baseball-sized piece of skull in place, and her face will have been peeled back and sewn back together. She will be bruised and swollen and scarred, and we've been told about the weird noises she'll hear from the air that got let in. Nobody wants any of this for a loved one. The notion of this is making me cry now — how will I ever keep it all together when I see her this afternoon?

I'm back at the hotel now. I've eaten, had a little coffee, and have the A/C working a little overtime to make up for whatever got changed yesterday — the room temp was part of the reason sleep was evasive at times. I'm going back to bed now to try to catch up on some of the sleep I lost earlier.

UPDATE 1:
12:30 PM EST. No word yet from the hospital, but that's to be expected. After making the previous entry I texted a few of Laurel's friends directly and took a nap for a little while. Just got up and made a little food. I figure I'll get cleaned up and head back to the hospital in a little bit. 1:30 PM EST will mark five hours.

I anticipate the next word I'll hear is that she's out of surgery. I think their practice is they take her back to ICU and do a few things (basically, this is recovery) before I'm invited back to see her — so I won't get to see her right away once she's out of surgery. BTW, recovery in ICU is standard operating procedure (forgive the unintentional pun) for craniotomy patients.

UPDATE 2:
12:54 PM EST: I just got a call from the hospital. The news is, "Things are going well," and that the surgeon "is currently working under the microscope."

As with many things about this trip, the message was a little vague. I guess the second sentence means they've begun work on the aneurysm. The poor volunteer who phoned me is a guy sitting at a desk someplace — he's got no direct knowledge, so... *shrug*

I really liked the first sentence, though.

UPDATE 3:
2:39 PM EST: Hospital reports "the aneurysm has been clipped and secured." We're now at hour six of the procedure; I assume this report means they're testing and getting ready to close. Next call I receive from the hospital should be the neurosurgeon.

UPDATE 4:
3:40 PM EST: Neurosurgeon reports surgery went well; ran long because the aneurysm was nestled up against the frontal lobe, so extra time was taken to maneuver in to isolate the aneurysm. Two clamps were used to cut off the blood flow, and her vitals were constant and good throughout.

I was STILL on the phone updating everybody when I got the next call...

UPDATE 5:
5:20 PM EST: Laurel is out of recovery and ready for me to come visit!

UPDATE 6:
9:00 PM EST: Laurel is resting comfortably for the moment. She’s got all of the symptoms we were told to expect—- headache, pain in the jaw muscles on the right side, and pain probably from swelling behind the right eye — but nothing more (apart from a touch of nausea, which is common in craniotomy patients). Pain management has made her sleepy.

And I am thankful.

She was a little bit of a jerk when I got there — she demanded her lip balm and then basically told me to shut up when talking to the nurse a few minutes later... so I sat quietly for a few minutes until she asked for me again. I sat with her there for a few hours, in the dark, feeding her crushed ice as she'd ask for it.

She looks good — as good as a woman whose head is wrapped in a bandage can, I guess. Her right eye looked a leeeetle droopy, but I'm not sure if that's just the effect of the bandage or not. No bruising or swelling that I could see, but it's possible those may set in overnight.

Drove back to the hotel, made myself a bite to eat. Started considering this evening's entertainment options as I was typing. I could write some code, but I think I might hafta sugar up to do it. Maybe I'll browse some new books on my Kindle or just surf the Chive for a little while... I could use some funny.

UPDATE 7:
11:50 PM EST: Ended up playing a few hands of solitaire and watching the latter half of Doctor Strange. The hospital scenes read differently now.

Tomorrow I plan to sleep in, shower, eat, and head back to the ICU. Perhaps I'll bring the laptop along and bang out some code.

February 6, 2018

12:30 PM EST: Laurel is recovering well. She's eating, drinking, walking, and using the restroom with assistance. Pain management still keeps her sleepy. Some bruising happening on the right side of her face; her jaw is still sore, and she still has that headache. By all indications, her recovery is progressing very well. She's already had an IV removed, and she'll get her bandage taken off this afternoon. Apparently the hospital has a fun selection of hats from which she may choose... she's looking forward to it.

She was moved out of ICU and into a room on a different floor late this morning. She's sleeping again now. Lunch today is a mango smoothie with protein powder added, and chocolate pudding. Her choice.

I didn't exactly sleep in this morning, but basically everything else went according to plan.

So far today I got to speak Russian and Tagalog in addition to English. Such a win.

Yesterday was pretty frenzied with constant updates — basically every call I got from the hospital became about an hour of some combination of calls, writing update texts, an update post to Facebook, and updating the site. I took the call from the surgeon while I was in the car, and pulled off of the street. I sat there for an hour. I expect that updates will be far less frequent from today forward — particularly the urgent messages and calls. I'll still respond to queries as I can.

UPDATE 1:
1:35 PM EST: Bruising is really becoming noticeable around her right eye. She's been asleep for about the past 45 minutes. I've been silently working through 4 oz. of steamed broccoli for most of that time.

UPDATE 2:
10:40 PM EST: Laurel's bandage was removed late this afternoon — at least, most of it was. Beneath the bandage is a... honestly, I don't know what this thing is. I would have expected it to be gauze... it's where gauze would go over the sutures, along the seam where the skin was cut. Only it's not gauze. It might be a pad from a 3M Tegaderm dressing, but with the transparent adhesive removed from around it.

When the bandage was removed, Laurel complained of her hair being "matted" in the back. As best as I can tell, perhaps a drop of glue fell on the back of her head. So, doing the math (read: I'm completely reaching here), perhaps whatever that long strip is was actually glued over the shorn skin. I heard the nurse mention that someone was going to remove the remainder of the dressing tomorrow, and to shampoo her hair.

I had been worried about the reveal... worried about how I would respond. I snapped a couple of photos for Laurel to see and she wasn't exactly elated with her current look. But I'm following Phillip's advice, and just "[being] positive and moving [forward]."

Thank you, Phillip.

February 7, 2018

Got in a little late this morning, wrangling coffee and iced tea as ordered.

I struggled into the room to find Laurel awake and without the remaining dressing. A short while later she was escorted into the shower.

When we left last night, we'd requested a different anti-nausea medication that Laurel knew worked well for her. Sometime in the night it must have been authorized, and I was overjoyed to see her eating applesauce this morning.

A nurse came by a few minutes ago and mentioned there's talk of releasing her today. Personally, I think I'd rather she stay through to Thursday. She's barely eaten in the past couple of days, and at this point she's eating applesauce. I guess I'd prefer she have a little more nutrition under her belt before we head for the hotel.

She's sleeping again. I'm sure the shower really took it out of her.

UPDATE:
3:30 PM EST: Lots of sleeping happening, but in the breaks she's using the toilet, and going for walks.

I need to do a little bit of grocery shopping this afternoon, because I'm running on low on supplies at the hotel. I'll probably take off in about 45 minutes to do that — hopefully by doing so I'll avoid the rush hour mess on San Pablo and Beach Boulevard. I'll grab some dinner in the room while I'm out and come back for a while this evening.

February 9, 2018

Laurel was discharged from the hospital yesterday. She ate some dinner last night and ate some breakfast this morning. She has three medications -- one of which is for the prevention of seizures (another standard operating procedure for craniotomy patients). Her other prescriptions (pain and anti- nausea) are further fortified with Tylenol and Advil.

Her swelling continues to decrease — she noted this morning that the FaceID on her iPhone is working again. She's still got a headache of course, though it's not as bad as it was.

February 11, 2018

Laurel's swelling is just about gone — her jaw and cheek are still a tiny bit swollen, and she's still got some color in the area of her temple and right eye.

She had a very active day yeterday. We stepped out of the room for a while and did a little shopping (she drove a motorized cart), and we went out for sushi last night. The roll made her stretch her mouth a bit, and her jaw is sore today (oops). We also stayed up late last night watching the olympics.

Also, she didn't nap yesterday. She finds she's a touch tired today.

Chick-Fil-A's sriracha sauce is not my friend.

February 12, 2018

Last night we went to another spectacular seafood restaurant. Marker 32 served a Mahi Hoppin' John with a beautiful basily flavor that sent me into orbit. The black-eyed peas and rice were a bit heavy - almost mealy - and weighed down the dish enough that I could only eat half. The basil was the perfect introduction for the marinara atop the fish. It was crazy good.

A neighboring table remarked that Marker 32 is known to be second only to Safe Harbor Seafood for the quality of their seafood — and that's because Safe Harbor actually fishes for the food they serve. Looks like we've covered all the bases here!

More importantly, Laurel looked beautiful at dinner. She's got her curly hair arranged around a bandana, and any remaining swelling is imperceptable without careful study.

She completes her anti-seizure medication tonight (she never had a seizure), and she'll have her staples removed on Thursday. At one point yesterday she logged into her work computer and spent some time catching up with one of her peers. I slipped out for a sorely needed shave... two weeks away from my clippers did me no favors. We had a little down-time yesterday afternoon, laying on the bed and watching women's olympic ice hockey (USA beat Finland).

So far today, she's playing on her XBOX. I interpret this as a huge step, because gaming tends to create elevated mental activity. I admit I'm curious to see how long she'll play and how she'll feel when she stops.

February 14, 2018

Laurel continues to improve, though I have noticed she's got some bruising on her throat now, probably from her intubation during the procedure.

Her use of the medication has been declining. We talked about it a bit, and I learned that she's moving away from prophylactic use and toward management-as-needed. I've been meticulously logging her consumption of both the pain and nausea meds as well as her supplementary OTC meds, and all have been in decline over the past two days. She was typically using one of the OTC's at about 90 minutes after her prescription meds; those times have been slipping to two hours and beyond. She's actually run out of the nausea med, but she's getting it refilled.

Last night we had another new dining experience: TacoLu is located just over the bridge toward Jacksonville Beach. They're a casual, Day of the Dead-themed taco joint and bar. Their "$10 Taco" is made with Filet Mignon, but it doesn't hold a candle to The Carne Royale.

Today, Laurel is out getting some "face time" with a beautician while I hang back in the hotel room to have an interview with a prospective employer — my second in two days!

February 16, 2018

Laurel got her staples out yesterday afternoon.


Afterward, we went out to celebrate. Dinner was at Pusser's Bar and Grille at Ponta Vedra Beach. I couldn't have been more excited about this — during my service to our country I was lucky enough to participate in the time-honored British naval tradition of splicing the mainbrace. The restaurant even had a rum tub under glass:




Today was our big day for heading out to the beach. And the weather didn't disappoint.




We're finally coming home tomorrow. We spent this evening in the room having Chinese take-out, doing laundry and packing our bags. We can't wait to rejoin the rest of our family!

February 17, 2018: Home Again

After a long day of travel, we made it back home at about 10 PM. The longest part was about four hours on the aircraft taking us from Dulles: Bad weather was moving in, and we sat in the plane for about an hour and a half before we went anywhere. But we did okay, and got home safe.

We were welcomed home with a small banner hanging in our bedroom and another by the back door — both painted by kiddo. When I got in the door she gave me the biggest hug ever and wouldn't let me go. I won't soon forget it.



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2018.01.28Family Update: Terry Charch

Papa continues in decline at the rest home. His weight is down significantly, but appears to be doing very well physically, and eats everything put in front of him. Mentally, though, his transition continues. He's still verbal, but has joined the club of residents clutching dolls and stuffed animals. It seems he is projecting memories of his infant children or grandchilden onto them — I suppose they're all doing that. Over the past few visits, he's been cooing to one of these community objects. He introduced us to a teddy bear today, which he named "Terry Charch."



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2017.12.11Soldiering On at Christmas

Clipart image of a Christmas tree

It's nearly mid-December, and that means decorating for Christmas. Yesterday we put up our Christmas tree, and decorated it using mom's family ornaments.

I'd have to imagine all of these ornaments are dear to Laurel and mom — they represent memories going back at least to Laurel's childhood. Decorating the tree without Papa this year must have been very hard on her.

It was at Christmastime last year that Papa fell. The trauma significantly accelerated the spread and severity of his dementia, prompting us to place him in full-time care.

Mom didn't participate in decorating the tree. I suspect she made herself busy cooking dinner. I'm sure that unpacking and hanging those ornaments would have been pretty rough on Mom.

For my part, I was free of the significance of the decorations, but I absolutely understood that Laurel was not. And I thought she was very brave.



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2017.12.09Season of Giving

Kindness is giving hope to those who think they are all alone in this world. Credit: randomactsofkindness.org

A man came to our door this morning and asked for my mother in law by name. Once he verified her identity, he delivered basically all of the food one would require to make a standard Christmas turkey dinner — including tons of canned goods, a sack of potatoes, and of course, a frozen turkey. He also gave her a board game — something meant for kids to play together to pass the time.

We are all just completely blown away by the gesture. From what we can tell, this act of kindness originated from a neighborhood church. Since mom was asked for by name, we must assume some members of the church — probably neighbors — were aware of the rough year particularly she has had, and wanted to do something nice for her for the holiday season. Going with the thought the benefactor is a neighbor, he or she has likely seen that we've moved in with her — a couple with a kid — and perhaps that became the basis for the donation of such a copious amount of food and the game.

I can't thank these people enough for their generosity, though I'm left with a thought: Perhaps whomever does the shopping for these lovely gestures might put more thought into the board games they're giving to families down on their luck:

Sorry!


We're grateful for all of these blessings. But maybe games like "Sorry!" 1  and "Life" 2 could send an unintended message?



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2017.11.23On Giving Thanks at Thanksgiving

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

First, I need to get something off of my chest: I have never been one for the "let's go around the table and say what we're thankful for" kind of thing at Thanksgiving, because I feel its an act of performance.

Being thankful — and the things, people, events that people are thankful for — should be a private matter. Making one list these items only invites trouble, because "obligations" tend to intrude. Thoughts like, "I'd better say I'm thankful that lush Uncle Jerry and tightwad Aunt Margaret made the trip, because I'm seated right across from them."

I like my thankfulness unrehearsed and uncoerced. I don't want social pressure to inform what I should or shouldn't say. Every time I've been made to do this, I've tried to assemble my words as the people before me were taking their turns. That's what makes this such an awful exercise.

I've spent the last few months not feeling very thankful. I lost a job that I really loved; I lost a house and a neighborhood I really loved. Selling the house ate through all of the savings I had left, and now I have a massive tax bill because of the penalties. I was without work for two months. All of this shattered my confidence and made me feel "less than," despite none of it being my fault. My exercise and diet routine was shot completely to bits — through a combination of change in routine, losing my motivation, and stress. No, I'm not thankful for any of that. At least, not yet.

Here's what I am thankful for: Through all of that amazing awfulness, my wife and daughter and their love have kept my spirits fairly buoyant, along with the friendship of others. I'm thankful for a new employer who was willing to work with me to help me get back on my feet, and I've been showing them a wealth of gratitude. I'm thankful I was able to save my mother in law's life — that's hard for me to write — and I'm thankful we're all getting along in this tiny house. I'm thankful our daughter is doing so well in school, and of how proud she makes me. I'm thankful for new friendships in unlikely places, and new pursuits. I'm thankful I can cook for my family and still talk to my mother. I'm thankful mom sold her place and moved into a care facility. I'm thankful for guidance and for new experiences. No, my life is not what it was, but I feel like I'm on the mend — and I'm very thankful for that.

I'm saying that, even in hard times, we can probably find things to be thankful for. There's a lot about my life that has absolutely had me down over the past couple of months. Someone once said, "it's not how many times you get knocked down that counts. It's how many times you get back up." These days, it's not hard to find somebody who has things worse than you do. That exercise in itself is a measure of thankfulness.

A year ago this week, the neighborhood got together and spent a couple of hours packing boxes and bags of food for people in need in our community. I need to make time to do that more often. Because it's one thing to be thankful for the blessings in your life. But to BE a blessing in someone else's life is another thing entirely.



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2017.10.17Cultural Inventions

Image of a classic American version of Santa Claus. Image credit: Wikipedia

Kiddo has been advancing in so many ways this school year — academically, she's taken off like a rocket, with A's in three of her classes. We've seen some indications of her success when she's talked to us about the things she's learning. The important differentiator here is that she's LEARNING the material, and she's reaching out and getting help with material that gives her trouble.

She's also advancing socially — making friends, hanging out with them (a group!), and navigating around the pitfalls of middle school social networking.

She's also becoming more technologically aware by having responsibility for a laptop and using it to complete assignments.

So I'm having trouble understanding how, in the midst of all of these advancements, she still believes in Santa and the Tooth Fairy?

I think it's our fault, as her parents. Because we've done so well in perpetuating those myths that she's a wholesale believer despite the pace at which everything else in her life is maturing.

Santa Claus

In a previous life, Laurel worked for a local economic development agency. Part of her responsibilities as Director of Events was to organize every last detail of seasonal parades. As you can imagine, she got to know a lot of people and civic organizations pretty well — including the man who was hired to play Santa in the Christmas parade.

It was the holiday season (prior to Christmas) and kiddo was four when she and Laurel were at the mall doing some shopping. Laurel's Santa normally didn't work the mall, but he was there on this occasion and walking toward the break room when he spied Laurel and Kiddo. He spoke up and greeted Laurel by name, and blew. Kiddo's. Mind.

I don't know if Santa ever realized the great gift he'd given Laurel that day. His greeting sparked a conversation between Kiddo and Laurel that somehow culminated in Kiddo becoming absolutely convinced that Santa was always watching, that mommy had a DEMONSTRATED direct connection to Santa, and that she could email him at any time for any reason. (E-mailing Santa was a device of kiddo's design, by the way — one night, Laurel was up late doing some work, which included sending some e-mails. Kiddo, still awake in her bedroom, asked her if she was e-mailing (*insert dramatic pause*) Santa — perhaps she was afraid she'd make the naughty list for not being asleep yet!) This gave rise to more conversations than I could count that ended up with Laurel asking, "Do you want me to e-mail Santa?"

Portable North Pole

At about the same time, Laurel caught onto an absolute GEM of a gimmick: The Portable North Pole console. It's a service — that still exists today — whereby you can enter your child's name and upload a couple of photos, and Santa will send special video messages for you and your child. You could use these videos as a corrective device, by entering in the form that your child has been naughty and selecting a reason why — the video will then show Santa finding your kid on his naughty list and encouring him or her to improve before Christmas. Your child is "identified" by his or her book — Santa has a book for every child — and the photos you send in appear in the "book." I recall uploading photos of Kiddo's room (we didn't upload photos of Kiddo; we uploaded images of things familiar to kiddo instead), and seeing her just EXPLODE when she saw a pic of her room in Santa's book. You could even add the names of your child's friends, so your kid's "book" appears next to those of the friends. We used PNP with great success.

Laurel took a few extra steps to ensure the myth of Santa was preserved, though also subtly introduced the notion that Santa was not the only gift giver. The best example I can offer: gifts from Santa were always wrapped in a super secret wrapping paper. This was absolute brilliance on Laurel's part, because Kiddo could be aware of the presence of holiday wrapping paper in the home, and would receive gifts from specific people in addition to Santa. But the roll of paper Santa used was never seen, so it was like Santa wrapped those gifts someplace outside of the home. This tack was also important, I think, because it introduced Kiddo to the concept of people giving gifts to each other over the holidays; not all gifts come from Santa.

The Tooth Fairy

The Tooth Fairy has always given kiddo a golden dollar for every tooth she's lost. (When I was a kid, market value in our house was $0.25.) I thought the Sacagawea dollar was a great choice for dental currency because (1) it's golden color really stands out (2) it's actual legal tender (3) rarely circulated (meaning the chances of her getting a Sacagawea dollar on the economy is low) and (4) it's valued at $1.

What's not to like?

The Tooth Fairy has also always written kiddo a nice letter, either hand-written or printed in an elegant font (thank you, Microsoft Word!).

There has never been a time she didn't receive a golden coin paired with a nice letter — though this year, we changed things up a little. More on that in a bit.

Tinkerbell

Our relationship with The Tooth Fairy was sort of pushed to an extreme a few years ago. Kiddo had lost a tooth just before we went on vacation to Disney, and in a letter, the Tooth Fairy had told kiddo that she and Tinkerbell were good friends, and that she'd talk to Tink about our upcoming visit.

Upon check-in at Disney, we asked the staff where we might find a gift shop that had little Tinkerbell-oriented gifts, and explained the whole Tooth Fairy-Tinkerbell connection. The front desk staff told us they'd take care of it (that was so nice!), and wow did they — when we got back to the room that evening, waiting on the kitchen island was ALL SORTS of goodies for kiddo: a Tinkerbell mug filled with little toys and fun confetti, perhaps a small stuffed animal too; little pins and lanyards and things. They. Completely. Hooked. Us. Up! We thanked them again and again and again.

A couple of days later we were walking around EPCOT and saw that Tinkerbell was making an appearance at one of the exhibits — and kiddo was anxious to thank her. I got busy downloading an app I could use to draw very large text on my phone screen, and used it to guide Tinkerbell as best I could.

First I drew Kiddo's name in large letters and positioned myself behind Kiddo so when we walked upon the stage, Tink could read her name. She took the cue beautifully and greeted kiddo by name and very enthusiastically. Next, I wrote "lost a tooth" or "Tooth Fairy sent her" or something like that and she picked right up on that, too, with Kiddo very happily filling in the gaps. It was about perfect. Kiddo left feeling kinda star-struck. I've always wanted to thank that young actress for her awesome assistance that day. I should send this story to Disney World.

Sunday's Tooth

Fast-forward to this past Sunday. Kiddo pulled out a molar, and insisted she put it under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy. The notion completely blew me away — just how is it she is learning about sex and science and what assholes adolscents can be, but still believes in the tooth fairy?

It was 10:30 at night. My printer is still packed. She's been using her phone a lot more lately — texting has really become a thing — maybe we do this letter electronically?

I set to work making changes to my website mailer code. I modified the development environment code to make the sender address read "tf@toothfairy.com," and sent myself a few test messages.

But sending an e-mail wouldn't be enough. First off, I still had the problem of the actual tooth-for-money swap; and she's now sleeping with the dogs in her room. We've been living here for three weeks now; I was praying the big dog in particular, who is hard of hearing and going blind, wouldn't attack me in the dark. Very fortunately, he slept through the whole thing, and I made it out with the tooth and the phone.

Laurel set to work configuring the phone for the e-mail account Kiddo never knew she had, and configuring the notifications to make the incoming message appear — and stay — on the lock screen, so kiddo couldn't miss it.

Then I got to thinking about creating contact information for the Tooth Fairy, so Kiddo would see "The Tooth Fairy" and an image as the sender instead of deciphering an e-mail address. I got the new contact AirDropped onto kiddo's unit, then got back onto my laptop and sent a test message. Everything went perfectly, so we deleted the test, turned off the phone, resent the message, and planted the phone back in kiddo's room.

On Monday morning, kiddo noted that she woke up with the coin in her hand, but found no letter. When I dropped her off at school, I reminded her the Tooth Fairy had never not left her a letter of some kind. I was confident she'd find it as school was letting out, but she didn't mention it when I picked her up in the afternoon. When Laurel asked about it later, Kiddo only casually responded that the Tooth Fairy had sent her "a note on her phone." — it was another example of her classic underwhelming response to something we worked so hard for.

Exit Strategy

Where we anticipate trouble with all of this is at school -- or, more directly, with her friends at school. I just don't want to see Kiddo come home deflated after her entire class ganged up on her on Santa or the Tooth Fairy. And right now, we're a little more concerned about the Tooth Fairy because the Tooth Fairy is a contact in her phone! I can guarantee it'll be a bad day if one of her friends sees that. This is the kind of thing that makes an exit strategy so important. (I never in a million years would have thought I'd be using a term like "exit strategy" to describe how to escort Kiddo away from her childhood.)

Laurel and I have discussed how to proceed. Kiddo has an orthadontist appointment in the next few weeks — Laurel's going to use the opporutnity to determine how many teeth Kiddo has left to lose, and we'll put together a plan for how The Tooth Fairy will say goodbye. At the moment, it'll probably be an e-mail message on the occasion of the loss of her final tooth, assuming that happens sometime relatively soon.

Santa's gonna be a tougher nut to crack. Every holiday season we very timidly test Kiddo's waters to figure out where she is on the scale of Santa Reality. Particularly over the past couple of years, we've braced ourselves for the result. She's heard other kids saying that Santa isn't real... and she's asked mommy straight out. Mommy's response was perhaps imperceptably subtle.

I guess I just thought that kids figure this stuff out for themselves, and parents just sort of abruptly learn that their child doesn't believe in it anymore. The parents breathe a sigh of relief and life moves on. And maybe that can happen for us. But when I was growing up, kids didn't have mobile phones with contact information for the Tooth Fairy, or probably didn't grow up believing their mothers had a Wifi hotline to Santa.

Straight Up Now, Tell Me

Of course, we have available the direct option of just telling her the truth. Reading that sentence aloud nearly made me cry; it makes me feel like I'd be killing something pure and beautiful. This is a real dilemma, as silly as it may sound. On the one hand, I'd like the convenience of Kiddo just learning it someplace. On the other hand, I don't want her to suffer for that lesson — I don't want her to be ridiculed by friends, and I couldn't bear for her stepbrother to break her heart yet again. I feel pretty safe in saying Laurel and I would much rather have some control over how the news is delivered, and have some influence in how it is received, than to risk an event within especially her budding social network.

Epilogue

I told Laurel that I felt we should talk with Kiddo about the Tooth Fairy in particular, for some of the reasons I gave above.

Later in the afternoon, after Kiddo got home from school, we had an opportunity to talk a bit about the whole Tooth Fairy thing. She volunteered that she didn't believe in the Tooth Fairy; she'd stopped believing last year. "I had a fishy feeling," she said. I then explained the sequence of Sunday night's events to her, and also explained that we did it because we thought she really believed in it, and didn't want to disappoint her. She wasn't angry or upset at all.



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2017.10.07Moved In

Image of a real estate for sale sign in front of a home

It's been a week and a half since the closing on the old house. The plan for selling the house all along was to bring mom aboard so she wouldn't be alone over the winter. We've achieved that, though not according to plan. I think we've certainly added some stressors to her life — she's become used to living alone — but I think we've also made things much better for her. I've been trying to be as helpful and out of her way as I can be.

I guess I'm overly sensitive about the situation, but I'm working really hard against any of us feeling like we're occupying mom's home in more of a military sense than a familial one. I want to be as cooperative and helpful as I possibly can. The house is getting a top-to-bottom cleaning. So far, the kitchen has required the most attention — I found a bottle of ketchup that expired over six years ago; its contents looked like barbecue sauce. At that point we brought in the big guns, and boy am I glad we did — mold was found in a couple of spots and remediated.

This is in no way my mother's fault; it's merely a function of settling into a life or environment, combined with simply not wanting to deal with the detritus of separation. I'm hoping our time together here will be a rebirth of sorts for mom — that new sweeter memories will gradually replace the bitter ones.



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2017.09.17UPDATED: Sidearms and Stripper Poles

Image of a real estate for sale sign in front of a home

 

Yesterday I came to realize that I've been having such a difficult time of things lately because I've got two of the greatest stressors happening at once — being between jobs at the same time as packing up my home.

I received a visit from a friend yesterday afternoon. An accomplished business man, he offered the observation that I'm doing everything right regarding my approach to the job search. It was kind of him to comment.

Meanwhile, the house is looking increasingly maked. We held a garage sale this weekend to lighten the load a little in preparation for the move. Well, when I say "we," I actually mean our cleaning person, whom I'll call "Bill." The garage sale was his idea — something he wanted to do for a while, so we agreed to contribute our driveway and items that he could sell, and we'd split the proceeds with him.

On Friday evening, his sister arrived to help with the set-up. We'd met her before, but we'd never seen her wearing a sidearm. It made me very uncomfortable. Also, among the items Bill contributed for the sale was a stripper pole. I spent Friday night awake for a while, wondering what I'd just invited to our neighborhood, and how much apologizing I'd have to do to my neighbors for the show in our driveway.

People were arriving an hour before the sale opened on Saturday morning. I overheard many asking "Bill" if he was the homeowner — the "sold" sign remains in the front yard. As weird as this is, it seems to be working. Bill texts us when customers have questions about our contributions, and is keeping a record of the prices we're asking for.

I was just outside, and saw the stripper pole against the fence. Apparently Laurel and I are the subject of much conversation among the sale visitors. Because I need that right now.

UPDATE: The stripper pole never sold.

UPDATE: 9/18 - I have to take that back. Yesterday evening, slight man knocked at my door and asked if the stripper pole had sold. To my knowledge, "Bill" had loaded up his leftover things and had already hauled them back to his storage unit, so I put the man in contact with "Bill" to sort out their transaction.

This morning, after running kiddo to school, I thought I'd put my car back in the garage — and lo and behold, that stoopy stripper pole was STILL HERE.

UPDATE: 9/28 - I put that pole in a neighbors' garage. *guffaw*



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2017.09.10UPDATED: House Hunters, halfgk Edition

Image of a real estate for sale sign in front of a home

Nothing seems to make a house your home as much as what you hang on its walls. Photos of your family, artwork that reflects your tastes... all of these things combine to represent you to the people you welcome into your home.

If you accept that argument, then it stands to reason that about the fastest way to demote a home to a house is by taking all of those mementos down from its walls.

Tonight, my home looks naked. I can't think of a more visible reminder that our chapter here is ending than seeing open walls where artwork and photos and certificates and posters were once hung.

I know it will affect me... I'm just not yet sure how: it will likely serve as a visible reminder that we have a lot of work to do, but I don't know how I'll feel. Maybe it'll motivate me. Maybe it'll just make me sad. Maybe both.



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2017.08.29Life, Unscripted

Meme of Steve Correll yelling, with text 'WHY IS EVERYBODY YELLING'. Image credit: quickmeme.com

Laurel and I exercise every morning after kiddo gets on the bus. Today the bus went flying down our street pretty early, and kiddo missed it. No big deal. As early as it was, we decided to exercise before making the drive. Kiddo joined us. We saw a police vehicle drive by us on a neighborhood street — a rare sight. Later on our walk, we saw — and heard — something else: a woman, standing in the middle of the street, screaming at someone about an affair her husband was having. Apparently the woman proceeded south in parallel to us, because we saw her again after we'd turned east. At this point, we could hear a man responding to her yelling. He didn't sound agitated, and she was still ranting.

All of this drama definitely affected kiddo. It was the subject of conversation on the ride to school, and, well, clearly I'm still thinking about it. We'll need to spend some extra time with her tonight.



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2017.08.28UPDATED: House Hunters, halfgk Edition

Image of a real estate for sale sign in front of a home

The plan of previous report remains partially intact. We're still moving out... but we're not buying the other house as intended.

My employer held a second round of layoffs late last week, and I'm transitioning to alumni status. Continuing with the sale of our current lovely home will serve to relieve us of a mortgage payment.

As for Yaya's home, well, some things will be accelerated on that front. We'll put our things in storage and move in with her. Among the advantages this offers: Yaya won't be alone (a primary goal of the original move plan), and certainly won't be lonely.

So some of the activities needed to happen as part of getting her home ready to sell should now happen before we move in. She'd been having a hard time going into Papa's room; it's about to get a tweenager makeover.

It's not what I wanted. But it's the lemonade we've made.



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2017.08.16School Has Turned Our Lives Upside Down

Image of the back of a school bus. Image credit: Fotolia

The start of school has already had quite an impact on the whole family. Kiddo now catches a bus at the same time I used to get up in the morning, so now we're all getting up before the sun. And because we're now up so early, Laurel and I go exercise once Kiddo is driven away, which seems to make my morning much, much longer — before I was going out to exercise following a morning meeting, after having eased my way into morning with a cup of coffee and a protein shake. Now my butt's in the chair instead of up above my feet for that 20 minutes. By the way, my exercise numbers are (relatively) off the chart (yay!).

Coffee is one piece of the puzzle that's sorta not quite fitting yet. I make it first thing in the morning out of habit -- but since I want to get my protein shake in before going out to exercise, coffee is sort of taking a back seat to breakfast... I won't really drink it until I get back and start working. Maybe I shouldn't even bother to make it until we get home from exercising? Doesn't that defeat the point?

Clearly, the new schedule is impacting our evening time too. I fear my days of staying up until the 11 o'clock hour are gone — at least during the week. I'm adjusting, I think, because by early afternoon I'm due for a nap... and last night by 9:30 I just couldn't keep my eyes open anymore.

Happily, kiddo is loving the new school. She's already made new friends and was asked by THREE BOYS to go, eh, "go steady." (The phrase around my school at that age was to "go with" somebody. She's getting asked "Are you single?" "Do you want a boyfriend?"). This, by day TWO of classes. (Unrelated: Someone should start a business renting out impressive yet inoperable weaponry to fathers with adolescent daughters for display in their living rooms.)



Image credit: Fotolia



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2017.08.16UPDATED: House Hunters, halfgk Edition

Image of a real estate for sale sign

I cried when I heard the news.

We sold the house yesterday.

Now comes all of the minutiae and mess of everything that follows: hammering out the details with the buyer, tweaking details with our seller... plus getting Yaya's house on the market and all that entails.

.

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2017.08.14Kiddo, Kitty Not Getting Along

Image credit: Imgur users seaeye and sirbaz.

Kiddo and the cat aren't getting along, I guess. I just heard kiddo yell in the bathroom, "I'M NOT MESSING WITH YOU, CAT!! I JUST CAME IN HERE TO TAKE A SHIT!!"

Oh, mercy. It's the first time I've ever heard her use that phrase — she must be really, really angry!



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2017.08.13The Chosen One

The aliens from Toy Story. Image credit: Disney

Kiddo came home from her first day of fifth grade last year and trumpeted that she was "the chosen one." Her basis for this claim was that the school janitor tossed her a peanut butter sandwich.

Tonight, on the eve of her first day of sixth grade, she has made the same declaration — only this time, the basis was a clump of Parmesan cheese in her meal.



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2017.08.12Miscommunication

image of children doing handstands

Kiddo (to Laurel):"Can you queef?"
Laurel:"Well, yeah, but not on purpose."
Kiddo:"Wait. What do you mean?"
Laurel:"What do you think a queef is?"
Kiddo:"It's a headstand, right?"
Laurel:"Uh... nope."
Kiddo:"Oh, man... I've been saying that to random people..."



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2017.07.30She's Not Wrong

Image credit: Imgur users seaeye and sirbaz.

Me:"What does your fortune say?"
Kiddo:"It says I'm expensive."

She's incorrect, but she's not wrong:

Fortune cookie fortune, that reads, 'You are very expressive and positive in word, act and feeling.'



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2017.07.29Learning How She Learns

We recently had our child examined to discover strategies we and the schools might use to help her learn and retain material more effectively.

We expect the final report will show the presence of dyslexia and perhaps Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

Not entirely unexpected, really.

Kiddo was born apart from Laurel and me with some challenges — parting gifts from her birth mother. Laurel knew this when she adopted our lovely child. Typically kids born with these addictions develop some emotional and learning difficulties. In our daughter's case, I feel the emotional part probably presented on time (when she was very young), but she hasn't had any serious learning challenges with the exception of a diminished capacity to retain the material she reads; she has to work harder than her classmates on that score. We'd been working with her and the school through an individual education plan to help her achieve, and she's been doing a pretty good job — but we still wanted an actual diagnosis.

We're about to get it.



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2017.07.25Herpes

Image credit: Imgur users seaeye and sirbaz.

Kiddo:"It's herpes!"
Laurel:"Do you know what that is?"
Kiddo:"Yeah, it's a disease that makes you go like this. *shakes*"
Laurel:"That's Parkinson's."

SMH



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2017.06.28House Hunters, halfgk Edition

Image of a real estate for sale sign

My wife and I are at the age where the parts on the parents are wearing out. Papa is in a care facility, and Yaya is left lonely and alone in their home. Being without Papa has been quite an adjustment for her; they were due to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary next week — but he no longer understands they're married — he may not even recognize her any longer.

Yaya's health and mobility remain fair, and I believe it will for at least the next few years — she has a degenerative muscular condition that will eventually require dedicated care resources. I believe there's a significant window between now and then.

Laurel and I have decided that while we're in this window, we want to bring Yaya into our home. Doing that means selling our home and hers, and buying a larger home for us all to live in.

We've found two homes in the area that will meet our needs.

The Big House

The first was a gigantic place that backs up to a golf course. The master suite is actually on the first floor, and is just about perfect for Yaya — the ensuite is built with wheelchair access in mind. It seemed pretty clear to me the previous occupants included someone with a disability. The downside of the home was that the upstairs, though featuring three enormous bedrooms, had a single, small bathroom, and a single stairway with a 90° turn (which may preclude installation of a chair lift). Also, the home is situated back on it's property on a busy street. In short, the home would be great for Yaya, but maybe not super awesome for the rest of us, though there's plenty of space. We put an offer in on the house, but it was sold to a cash buyer.... or was it?

That 70's House

The second home is... well, we thought The Big House was mind-blowing until we saw this one. That 70's House is a beautifully constructed home in a much quieter neighborhood. Lots of wood and stone accents were blended with the interior to offer a kind of a rustic yet spacious feel. It has a "bridge" that connects the two ends of the upstairs part of the home, and that bridge has both an angled front stairway and a stright stairway from the kitchen. But the most mind-blowing thing about the home is it's basement — it has 10' ceilings and seems to go on for miles. The neighborhood seems to have a lot of kids of roughly the same age as ours, and the home is within walking distance to the new school opening this coming fall. We have an offer in on the home, with the sale of our current home as a contingency.

War of the Decades

We've been very focused on That 70's House since learning The Big House sold... but we learned yesterday that The Big House is back on the market. (We had been wondering why the real estate company's sign had remained in the yard for so long.) I find myself somewhat conflicted -- The Big House is cheaper up front, but I think we'd end up spending as much as we would on That 70's House once you factor in putting in an upstairs bathroom. The Big House is also outdated — it's 1960's origins are really apparent in some places. Still, a lot of room and plenty of formal touches -- the living room has double-doors that open directly into the dining room, and it's even got an entrance and food prep area that must have been designed for staff. How cool is THAT?!

That 70's House is full of lovely upgrades, but still has some original fixtures — for example, I think all of the shower enclosures in the four full baths are original, and the glass rattles in each of them. That 70's House also has a giant sunken tub in the master bath — it's a little ridiculous, but it looks fun and I wanna try it out. The owners are in their 70's, I think — I can't believe they're still using it. At least, not without setting a step ladder down into it first. Laurel's afraid she's gonna stumble over the edge of that tub one evening and really hurt herself. I can't really say I blame her for being a little wary of it. At the same time, though, the sinks on the first and second floors are all very stylish and modern and fun. Some are hammered copper, others are glass; these contrast with the hickory-style wood with emphasized grain (SO MUCH WOOD) throughout the home, particularly in the kitchen.

Selling Our Home

Of course, nothing about these other homes will matter if we can't get our home sold first. We had an open house last weekend that was very, very well attended, and we've had one showing so far this week. None of this seems to be moving fast enough, and I'm sure once it does we'll be wishing things would slow down.



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2017.06.24Says She's Got the Body for It

image from DC Comics' new Wonder Woman movie staring Gal Galdot

Kiddo, on Halloween plans:

"I'm gonna be Wonder Woman this year. I've totally got the body for it."



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2017.05.11Nope. Not even close.

Photo of a Stretch Armstrong figure

Photo of a Stretch Armstrong figure

Kiddo: "OMG! Louis Armstrong!"



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2017.03.31"Hello Baby"

image of a text alert with the words

My daughter received a text from a classmate last night (read: from another 11 year old). It read, "Hello baby."

"Try again" was the response I sent.

"That was my dad" was the follow-up response Laurel sent.

There was no reply.

I recognize that moments like these are going to shape, or determine, what kind of dad I'm going to be to our teen. And I admit that the more I think about it, the more I want to march over to the kid's house and speak with his parents.

What would I say? I just want them to have some situational awareness. How they handle it in their home is their concern.

What my kid receives on her phone is my concern.



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2017.03.23Dissed Me Off!

Yaya: "I hear the hold music, and then it went quiet. So I think, 'okay, I'm going to get my answer.' And then the music starts again! I think she was trying to diss me off!"



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2017.03.09On Beginning Her Day

Kiddo told us the other day that she was going to start setting her alarm for 6:30 AM, "so she can begin her day."

I'm still the only one awake at 6:30.



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2017.03.06All Hail Jesus

Kiddo is describing attendance at mass this past weekend.

Me: "Did you have to say things while you were standing and kneeling?"
Kiddo: "Oh yes."
Me: "Like what?"
Kiddo: "Like 'all hail Jesus' and 'Aw man' and stuff."



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2017.03.04The Lumchop

Image of the man on the old Brawny paper towel logo

Kiddo offering fashion advice on my beard: I should "do a lumchop."

Me:"A what?"
Kiddo:"A lumchop. You know, those guys in the plaid shirts who chop wood."



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2017.02.27The Day Has Arrived

Photo of a shark jumping out of the water

Well, it's happened. I'd heard nasty rumors that kiddo had develped hair in her pits, which meant we were on a six month clock for... this.

Kiddo dutifully reported, with a measure of pride, that she'd had some spotting yesterday. And just like that, Operation Shark Week went into effect. She went to school today with a few extra items in her backpack.

I'm not having an easy time with the news. For as much of a hypochondriac as she has been, I fear she'll become a "regular" in the school nurse's office again (she described the new nurse this year as an 'A-hole,' by the way).

I can't imagine the amount of Zoloft the middle school nurse must be taking.



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2017.02.19Hamsters make her uncomfortable

Image of a Hamster emoji

Kiddo: "I bet a turtle can eat a hamster. Hamsters make me uncomfortable."



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2017.01.31Questions about Adult Toys

This just happened not five minutes ago.

Kiddo:"What's a dildo?"
Laurel (about to join a conference call):{pauses} "We can talk about this later."
{Pauses again, calls upstairs to me} "Do you want to take this one?"

One of her buddies asked her if she was going to get one when she gets her own apartment.



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2017.01.22Deez Nuts

On the phone with Kiddo.

Laurel:"Have you had lunch? What would you like?"
Kiddo:(pause) "Deez nuts."



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2017.01.22Play Like a Champion Today

Laurel to Kiddo: "You know, you're 11. When Simone Biles was 11, she was winning medals. I'm pretty sure you can handle your room."

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2017.01.14Papa's Got a Brand New... Place

Papa has been moved out of the hospital and into new quarters in a care facility.

We were surprised that they decided to move him so quickly, particularly because there's an ice storm that's about to blanket the entire state. Happily, he's moved in, and seems to be improving.

During today's visit, I heard him introduce himself and say a few coherent sentences, like, "Please, sit down in this chair."

His mood seemed a fair amount brighter, and he also seemed very happy to see me. At the hospital, the attending physician changed his medication in hopes it might even out his mood swings.

His new room seems nice. He has a lovely bay window right across from his bed. His room is roughly 30' x 30', has a wardrobe, a small chest of drawers, and a nightstand. It reminded me very much of life in the barracks, but with nicer furniture and wood accents.

His room is actually part of a suite of sorts, partitioned from the other occupant by curtains. I understand these quarters are temporary, and he'll move into a different room by himself later on as space becomes available. At this point, I think we're all just very thankful he's out of the hospital.

The only thing I'm beginning to become concerned about is that when he sees me, he seems to talk about things that aggravate him. I wonder if he does that with the other (female) family members too?



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2017.01.10On Aging: Front Row Tickets to a Tragedy

I watched him leave.

It was all so subtle.

Think of the mind as a corporation, with divisions and departments, staffed by atomic characteristics of a person. A creative division that is in charge of all creative pursuits, run by the creative portion of the mind; it is home to fantastic ideas and concepts of art and magic and color. An accounting department that tracks that person's financial affairs. The entire enterprise of the person is controlled in the mind. Like economics, the enterprise is influenced by circumstances, people, life.

His corporation was suffering from attrition. The staff in the various divisions and departments weren't being responsive to the needs of the enterprise.

It started within the Communications Division. The workers responsible for researching nouns stopped doing their research. So he had a harder time to find the nouns he needs to effectively communicate those wonderful ideas.

The database staff in his IT department started leaving, so his ability to record and retreive information wasn't keeping pace. Soon, he wasn't remembering those wonderful ideas.

We saw it. We saw it all. It started with a few, memory-driven words. Eventually vocabulary became decoupled from concepts. He knew a chair was the thing you sit on; the word "chair" came to escape him, but he still understood the concept of "the thing you sit on," and would seek a replacement word for "chair" which would communicate the same idea. Then, the secondary words became out of reach. At times, he can manage words with similar pronunciations ("hair" instead of "chair")... at times, all he has is partial pronunciation, which may or may not make sense — the end result might be unintelligible. And so, "chair" and "the thing you sit on" may not appear to have any connection at times.

At a higher level, vocabulary is becoming reduced to sounds. Or idioms. Or fragments of these. He's called his daughter "Gravy." The other, "Ohio." ("Ohio" might have been a replacement for "Hi"?) When his doctor asked him how he was feeling, he replied, "Fi fi fo fum dogs." No association.

What we have left are clues to intention. Some days, he can communicate effectively, but what he's saying seem to be products of delusion. In other words, he's using actual words to convey ideas, but whether they're the ideas he truly intends to convey is anyone's guess. Sleuthing comes into play.

In the disarray between communication and memory, all of those atomic elements that made him are fading. Fading until all that will remain is the machinery of a being; a body that functions. A man no longer greater than the sum of his parts.

His daughter has abandoned hope that her dad is still there someplace. She tells me that her dad would be mortified if he knew what he's become. I believe she's right about her dad's reaction. And I feel that she's perhaps making this projection to protect herself; she feels such tremendous sorrow for his state.

For my part, I attend. I visit him with her. He seems to recognize me; not by anything he says, but by his expression. It's like he doesn't know who I am, but he can recognize that I'm someone who is associated with him. Perhaps I'm much the same — difference being I can express it here.

Last week we spent a little time searching his home. Objects have been misplaced, and we need to find them. In some cases, he hid them. The trouble is, there's no way he'll recall his hiding spots — or, at least, be able to communicate any recollection he might have. And so I find myself sifting through the evidence of his life, of his liveliness. All of these objects attest to those certain atomic elements I mentioned earlier. They were there once. They operated on these things; made these things into crafts and art and expressions of beauty and passion and love.



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2017.01.09Dinosaur Pants on the Dog

Nothing peps up a Monday like putting dinosaur pants on the dog.

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2017.01.01Bathroom Etiquette

"If life with women hasn't taught you to close the lid on the toilet after each use, life with kittens will." #advicefrom2016

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2016.12.26Livin' on a Prayer

Kiddo is singing "Livin' on a Prayer" to the cats

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2016.12.18Taste : Smell :: Snot : Pennies

"My snot doesn't taste like how pennies smell, I guess."

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2016.09.21Don't Be Rude

Overheard: "I'm glad you had such a good time tonight. You need to stop humping Chloe's face, okay?"

Guidance Laurel was giving the pup, who had a play date this evening.



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2016.09.10Things are going well, I guess

Technology is great. Laurel just scrawled and sent "KILL ME" on her Apple watch, so I know things are going well at Lily's health class.



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2016.09.06Relative Relationships

Thoughts like "It's finally over" and "we made it" shouldn't be coming to mind at the close of a family vacation.

But after Laurel's parents were dropped off at their home and we sped toward ours, I heard thoughts like those — and worse.

Our ten year old confessed to taking a pillow with her into the hotel bathroom and screaming into it to vent the rage she felt by what she described as a constant assault (my words, not hers) of the words "art" and "program," and the letters N, P, and R. This was undoubtedly her grandmother's unintentional attack.

Kiddo's description brought a few things to mind.

The first is that my daughter may have started that war, in her eagerness to relate. I seem to recall only two nights before she couldn't wait to tell her grandma all about the YouTube channels she follows.

I know a little bit about YouTube. I can say that there's a difference between the knowledge an adult can gain about YouTube from research and from other adults, and the knowledge an adult can gain about YouTube from a "tweenager."

Don't think for a minute that grandma didn't consider taking a header off of that third floor balcony. If there's one thing our little girl can do now, it's talk — seemingly free of the bond between earth and man known as respiration.

(Laurel is careful to remind me that at some point in her teen years, kiddo is going to think I'm stupid and won't talk to me at all.

At times I wonder if that will happen soon.)

So I should work with our little girl to suggest that her grandmother was trying to relate, much like how she was trying to relate to grandma about YouTube.

The second thing that came to mind was memories of summer dinners on my grandparents' back porch, and my grandmother excitedly pointing out various birds as they visited the feeders in the yard.

I was six. In 1975, I watched Batman on WXON-20 and Spider-Man on WKBD-50, both broadcast out of Detroit, when the weather was good. On Saturday mornings, I was watching the Superfriends.

I was in second grade in 1975. Here's some second grade math for you: How many sh*ts did I give about the birds in grandma's backyard?

The answer is zero.

Today, I am 47 years old. I have a backyard. Birds visit it. We even have a cardinal that nests in a large burning bush at my back door. I know that bird is a cardinal because I watch it, and because my grandmother taught me that birds that look like that one are cardinals. My grandmother also taught me how to differentiate between the males and females.

For me, it was about timing. The timing to share grandma's joy about birds wasn't right for me at six. Honestly, I probably still don't, to the level they brought her joy. But when I have the time to watch them, I think about her fondly.

I need to be more mindful about that kind of timing. I know I jam all kinds of crap into my daughter's head. (Laurel has taught her how to respond to me in a kind way that isn't outright telling me to go play in traffic.) Some of it sticks.

Later on maybe she'll realize that a lot of it stuck.

I'm not asking her to appreciate it now. Or ever, I guess.

So, bringing this back around... I have to think about the ways in which my daughter tries to relate to me.

I've been playing a console game for awhile called DESTINY. For reasons I can't explain, one of kiddo's other parents let her buy a copy of that game, and it is her great hope that we two play it together.

I'm horrified by the idea. On one hand, she's taken something that was really the only thing I had to myself for a while and destroyed it. (Yes, there's a part of me that really looks at it that way.) And that happened because her other dad seems to offer no guidance at all. I'm beyond offended. On the other hand, this is a game that I feel is a bit advanced for her and her age. But, here we are. So to fill her heart, I'm going to have to create a new character, I guess, and walk her through playing this game. I already know I'm going to spend much more time explaining than I will actually playing.

There is so much about this that I am really against; and maybe I can yet find some other (acceptable) game instead. I just have to remember that the object of the exercise is for her to be able to relate to me.



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2016.09.01Swiss Army Knives

Kiddo: "Swiss Army knives make me want to eat cheese."



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2016.08.31A Balanced Meal (Right?)

We're at IHOP for dinner because I'm a responsible dad.

Kiddo orders the red velvet pancakes.

What? You want icing AND syrup? Oh, that's gonna cost ya...

She is now working her way through a glass of grapefruit juice.



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2016.08.30Maturing her Vocabulary

Kiddo: "Our new school nurse is an 'a-hole.'"



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2016.08.25Growing Evidence of Maturity, Part I

My little girl is growing up.

She confided to mommy the other day that one of her breasts seems larger than the other. Totally normal.

THEN she told her about the other thing: her.... eh... *sigh*

her potty otter.

Her forest of smelly branches.

Her vagina sweater.

Jeebus, the room is spinning.

Laurel offered details of the developments.

Oh, dad's not doing well.



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2016.08.25Growing Evidence of Maturity, Part II

Oh, dad's not doing well.

I've written from time to time about aging from the perspective of watching our daughter mature, and I've poked fun at myself for not being ready for the changes happening before our eyes.

But now I want to write a bit about learning how to prepare myself for changes happening in our parents.

I received a tremendous gift recently, in that something I said — in fun — actually caused my mother to rethink her position on retirement living. I'm overjoyed to report that she'll be moving into a community in the coming weeks. A community which she found to be vibrant and alive and open and eager for involvement and interaction. I couldn't be happier.

The story is different with Laurel's folks. Despite Laurel's efforts to find them a lovely place, her mother simply was not willing to give up their independence. The cost, we fear, is that they've missed the window in which Papa would successfully transition into a new environment. His dementia has become sufficiently acute that a couple days ago he had no memory at all, and was terrified. I suspect her strategy was to hang onto their house for as long as they could, but now he's completely dependent upon her, and her strength is failing. We help when we can, by bringing Papa over here to "help around the house." We give him chores to keep him occupied, believing he appreciates the change of scenery and I'm sure she appreciates the break as well.

We've agreed to take them on a family vacation in the fall. More than anything, I want this to be a special trip for Laurel, full of lovely memories of time with her father; also, for kiddo, full of lovely memories of her with her Papa.



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2016.08.17Dat Hot Sauce

Depending on how much hot sauce the kitchen wants to use, Old Chicago might consider renaming their Double-Decker Pepperoni pizza to "The Punisher."



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2016.08.16The Chosen One

Kiddo: "I'm the chosen one."

... continues, describing how the janitor threw an extra peanut butter and jelly sandwich at her and her friend at lunch.



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2016.07.23"Veggie"

From Laurel:

Kiddo:"My underwear is up my crack both ways."
Laurel:"Did you know that when its like that in the back its called a wedgie. Do you know what it's called in the front?"
Kiddo:"A veggie?"



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2016.07.20"Boyfriend Beater?"

Clothes shopping with kiddo. Showed her a spaghetti strap top that might be nice for dressier occasions (family events, not school); she dismissed it immediately, calling it a "boyfriend beater."

I stepped out of the store.



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2016.07.20She's Not Lacking Confidence

Our server sets a plate at our table, saying, "Pretty hot, okay?"

Me (to Laurel): "Pretty sure she was talking about you."
Laurel (to me): "Pretty sure she was talking about YOU."
Kiddo: "Pretty sure she was talking about ME!"



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2016.07.16Syrup and Bread

Kiddo has a friend we've nicknamed "Syrup," because on the night we met her, we noticed that she had written "S Y R U P" in ink on her hand as if it were a knuckle tattoo. We were so struck by this that it's going to be her nickname forever.

Syrup (to Kiddo): "Oh yeah. And I made up a song about bread. The only word in the whole song is 'bread.'"

These two are gonna be friends for life.



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2016.07.09YEAH, BABY THAT'S WHERE IT'S AT

Kiddo's catching us up on her week.

Kiddo: "We've got this glove sack--"
Me and Laurel: "GLOVE SACK! BABY GLOVE SACK!! GLOVE, BABY, THATS WHERE ITS AT! YEAH!!"
Kiddo: --



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2016.07.05So Hard to Say Goodbye to Kitty

I stood before the desk, wiping tears and hiccupping breaths, as I presented the poor girl the unhappy animal, and spoke its name. The young technician robotically retrieved a clipboard from the wall — it already bore the name that I spoke — and clinically asked me to initial and sign the paper it held.

She was every bit as uncomfortable facing me as I felt appearing before her. I thought I had sufficiently steeled myself as I lifted the kitty into the carrier and quickly made my way out of the house. Laurel was on a phone call — it was a perfect time to quietly smuggle her out. The whole point of the exercise — well, the second point, anyway — was to execute in such a way that nothing about this would come to Laurel’s mind. I placed kitty in the car, moved to the driver’s side, and was about to back out when Laurel emerged from the house and mouthed to me that she wanted to say goodbye. In the instant I took the car out of gear my steel facade fell to the floorboard like a crumpled fast-food napkin. And so I stood before the girl in the pink scrubs ten minutes later, sobbing and looking like I’d been awake for days.

A few minutes later I was back in the car. I didn’t want to be present for the procedure; I didn’t want to wait for the carrier — I told them I’d come back later to pick it up. As I drove home I figured I’d better pick up some lunch — more for a lame attempt at misdirection than as a function of actual hunger.

When I returned, Laurel answered the door and she looked every bit as bad as did I. I had failed to smuggle out kitty without detection — this scene was precisely what I was trying to avoid. Through her tears she thanked me repeatedly for braving the awful task.

Well, I wasn’t so brave. But the deed is done. Done out of love and respect and in the hope that she’s sleeping peacefully, no longer tormented by whatever prompted her screams. Laurel and I had convinced ourselves that some product of her dementia was scaring the Hell out of her every day and every night, and allowing the torture to continue was something we could not abide.

If nothing else, I hope I appeared to the technician as a man who really loved this cat. I do.

Kitty had enjoyed a good morning — and minutes before had been curled up in her box. The sunshine streamed through the window beside it and bathed her in light and warmth.

We miss you so.



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2016.07.03She's Gonna Be Rough on Boyfriends

Kiddo's "dinner date" is backing out on her.

(Her "date" is actually a 20-something coworker of our "other daughter," who is also attending.)

Kiddo sounds pretty okay with it, but she did end the conversation with "Don't get blown up."



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2016.06.26Remaro

Kiddo has decided the voice in the guidance system in our car is called "Remaro".



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2016.06.25Uh, Why Do You Ask?

"Mommy, what's laxative?"



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2016.06.23First Family Road Trip

It's our first family road trip. We've arrived at the hotel, and I'm watching kiddo unpack:

  • sleep masks (2)
  • balls (3) for juggling
  • a dog and a cat action figure
  • a flashlight
  • a (broken) Fitbit
  • stamp with the letter Q on it
  • keys (for her diary)
  • the diary
  • a hair tie, wrapped around a Matchbox car which bears the number 4

"So if the power goes out, you can practice your juggling."

*wipes eyes*



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2016.06.12Butt Rocket

Kiddo (on her dinner order):"I'm gonna switch it up. I'm going with a bean burrito with cheese. Because I'm gonna sit next to you [at the movie], and I've got a 'butt rocket.'"



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2016.05.11Hardcore on the Sour Cream

Kiddo, passing instructions on her lunch order: "... And don't go easy on the sour cream. Go hardcore."



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2016.05.09Snot Nasal Drip

Kiddo (to pediatrician):"I've had snot nasal drip for a while."



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2015.11.28So, Ham, Then?

Me: "What did you have for dinner?"
Kiddo: "Ham. Not honey baked ham. Just regular, bitter, old, chewy ham."


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2015.11.28Pickles. After the Ham, I Guess

Kiddo is only nine, but tonight she's farting like a 50 year-old after a Taco Bell binge.

At one point — amid a LOT of giggles — she squealed, "It smells like pickles!"



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2015.11.25No, Honey, That's a Bomb

Kiddo: "Here, buddy! Let me just put this between us, and we'll be safe!" *plants proximity bomb* *kills her buddy*

Playing the new Battlefront game. She may have some learning to do, but she sure is cute when she talks to the TV!



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2015.11.23NOBODY does that

I'm positive I just heard kiddo say to Laurel, "Don't put baby in a corner."



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2015.11.22Maxwell's Silver Hammer

Kiddo: "Get out of here, fly! Before I smash you with my hands of awesomeness!"


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2015.11.15Damn Right, It's Better Than Yours

While trying on a new dress in a department store:

Kiddo: "I'm going to bring all the boys to the yard, Mommy!"


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2015.11.11Nasty

I'm cleaning things off of kiddo's bedroom floor.

Me: (horrified) "Is this a BAND-AID?!"
Kiddo: "What?! It doesn't have any padding on it."
Me: "YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"


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2015.11.09She Didn't Care for the Horse Mayonnaise

When kiddo doesn't pack her lunch, I will pack it and throw in some red herrings:

Me: "How was lunch? What didn't you like about it?"
Kiddo: "The chopsticks and the horse mayonnaise."


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2015.11.09Right in the Feels

Had just tucked kiddo in for the night when I heard, from her bedroom:

Kiddo: "Thank you, Dad."
Me: "For what?"
Kiddo: "Everything."


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2015.11.04Syrup RAWKS

Kiddo has a kindred spirit in her friend at school. I know this by the "S Y R U P" knuckle "tattoo" (written in ball point pen) on her left hand.

Not even kidding.



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2015.11.04Disabled Just Because I Look 40?

Overheard:

Laurel:"Nobody's disabled just because they look 40."


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2015.11.01Just Say NO

Kiddo is watching the Giants/Saints game. When Laurel asked whom she's rooting for, Kiddo pointed to the score. "I'm going for New York, because for the other team it says 'NO.'"



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2015.11.01Gimme Some Bras, Bruh!

I'm describing to kiddo all of the clean laundry she now has.

Kiddo:"Gimme some bras, bruh!"

Uhh...



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2015.11.01Well, THAT Backfired!

Kiddo is in the kitchen sorting out last night's candy haul (thoughtfully, to distribute family favorites). I'm in the laundry room when kiddo asks, "Where do suckers go?"

Thinking I'll have a little fun at her expense, I planned to reply, "In the kitchen!"

Didn't happen that way:

Me:"I know where suckers go!"
Kiddo:"Up your butt?"

Ow.



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2015.10.29The Center for Missing and Exploded Children

The morning news was running a story involving a man from the Center for Missing and Exploited Children.

Some misunderstood his introduction:

Kiddo: (horrified look) Missing and exploded...??!"


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2015.10.25Spin the Bottle

We're at breakfast this morning when kiddo mentions her friend's "Spin the Bottle" app.

Forks and faces fell in perfect synchronization.



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2015.10.20We Could Be Nonfiction!

We were talking about attending the midnight showing of the new Star Wars movie.

Laurel: "Would you stay up until midnight to go see the movie?"
Kiddo: "We could be nonfiction!"
Laurel: "What?"
Kiddo: "You know, nonfiction... when animals sleep all day and are up all night?"


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2015.10.19Getting Back to Nature, Part II

Kiddo: "That tree has no leaves. It's bald."


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2015.10.10Getting Back to Nature, Part I

We're at a nature center. I'm talking to kiddo about how this place is just about being among nature; taking in the sights and sounds and smells.

Kiddo: (loudly) "I want to be part of the Blue Man Group."


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2015.10.10Snot Nasal Drip

Kiddo: "I've got some snot nasal drip goin' on."
Me: "Most people say, 'Post-nasal drip.'"
Kiddo: "Well I say it different, because I'm awesome."


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2015.10.09Whippie Goldman

For some reason that eludes me now, I was talking to kiddo about Whoopi Goldberg...

Kiddo: "I don't know Whippie Goldman."


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2015.10.04Appropriate Music

Kiddo and Laurel were talking about recording artists and concerts. I stayed quiet... to a point.

Kiddo: "Is Snoop Dogg appropriate?"
Me: "OH HELL NO."


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2015.10.02Cold Lunch, Courtesy of The Villiage People

Kiddo is making her lunch. Singing to the tune of "Y.M.C.A.":

Kiddo: "I'm gonna do some PEEEEEEEEEE BEEE and JAY! I'm gonna do some PEEEEEE BEEEE and JAY..."


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2015.09.30Random Randomness

Kiddo: "It was random! Like ME!"


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2015.09.29Reaching for the Stars

Kiddo: "With that kind of a fake sneeze, maybe I'll get to meet Jennifer Lawrence!"


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2015.09.28P-I-S-T

Yes, kiddo, continued misbehavior really WOULD make us P-I-S-T.



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2015.09.28Egg Nog Soup

Chinese cuisine tonight. Kiddo is all about the "egg nog soup."



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2015.09.28New Recorder

Kiddo brought home her new recorder today. I am confident she'll be over it by the weekend.

And that's good, because then I won't have to feed it to the puppy.



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2015.09.24'Cause it's Her OCD, Baby

Kiddo (singing, while making her sandwich for lunch tomorrow): "MAKE IT THE WAY IT'S SPODA BE... 'CAUSE IT'S MY OCD, BABY"



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2015.09.18"Thank You To Your Service"

Kiddo thanked a Vietnam Veteran and he gave her a pin from the 4th Army.

She has no idea how much she touches people with her kindness.



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2015.09.17Just Tryin' to Tell You about Knowledge

In the middle of a long, wet day at Disney World, Laurel is trying to convince an exasperated kiddo to go on the Carousel of Progress.

Kiddo: "Do they just try to tell you about knowledge?"


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2015.09.15Tropical Illusion

Kiddo: "It's a tropical illusion!"


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2015.09.15Botched

Only MY KID would turn stuffing items into a knapsack into a corrective breast procedure. #Botched



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2015.09.11As I Slowly Sink into the Booth

Kiddo pretty much just yelled "SUCK IT REAL GOOD!" in the middle of Chili's.



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2015.09.10A Family Company

Kiddo is making her lunch for school tomorrow. She's decided to take some leftover mac & cheese. Here's how I can tell:

Kiddo: "Because life needs mac & cheese. SC Johnson. A family company."


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2015.09.08LEEEEROY JENKINS!

Kiddo just yelled out "LEEEEEEROYYYY JENKINS!!!" from the shower.



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2015.09.07Look Me In the Eye

Laurel: "WOW! Your boobies are getting really big! Both of them!"
Kiddo: "MY EYES ARE UP HERE, WOMAN!"


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2015.09.04...And the Hits Keep On Comin'

Kiddo: "Mommy, you smell like Sausage McMuffins. In a good way."


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2015.09.03You Were One of those Kids I Feel Bad For

Kiddo: "Oh mommy. You were one of those kids I feel bad for."


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2015.09.01Know the Risks

Kiddo: "Well, that's the dangers of tetherball. You could get hurt. Or you could vomit."


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2015.08.29Dress? Justice? WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?!?!

Kiddo: "I saw a dress at Justice that I liked."

I'm pretty sure I just saw blood drip from Laurel's ear.

On top of using "the 'd' word", she also mentioned JUSTICE?!



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2015.03.12Denugenal

Denugenal (de-nuj-en-al):

  1. Kiddo's misrecollection of the word "delusional."
  2. A new word even better than "delusional," because it adds the dimension of Ted Nugent crazy.

I think it's a keeper!



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2015.03.04There Was Something in the Air That Night

Kiddo: "If I had a police dog, I would name it 'Ornando.'"



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2015.03.02Grammar Gets the Girls, Precious

Kiddo (discussing Laurel's friend): "He hases proper grammar."



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2014.12.2628 Hours

December 25th: Kiddo feels the joy of unwrapping her very own iPhone.

December 26th: Kiddo learns the value of AppleCare, and feels the sorrow of having to replace her iPhone.



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2014.12.16Her Lunch Bag

"My lunch bag? my actual lunch bag? Well, I — I can't believe I'm saying this, but — it smells like CRA— with a 'P' on the end."



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2014.12.16"I'm the 'Gettin' Place' And You're the Customer"

Kiddo is serenading the pups. Tonight's is a medley of "I'm the 'Gettin' Place' And You're the Customer" (First Movement), "You're My Happy Lemonade", and "Shake That Bootie of Yours"/"You Have to Shake That to Make it Right".

Later In the shower, she followed up with "Pantalones" and "Babe Ruth."



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2014.12.13A Public Service Announcement

Kiddo just came home and told me about the "PSA" video she made with her stepbrother. The message was "don't drink and drive because you'll probably kill your child."

So... there's that.



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2014.07.14People Change

Kiddo:"I'm starving, Mommy!"
Laurel:"What?! I just offered you food like 15 minutes ago, and you said you weren't hungry!"
Kiddo:"No, it was more like 20 minutes ago."
Laurel:"Still. You said you weren't hungry."
Kiddo:"People change, Mommy."



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2014.07.13BE A MAN

Kiddo is trying to get the puppy to come visit her. "Sailor, come here! Sailor?! Sailor, stop being so lazy and start being A MAN!!"



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2014.07.13Promises in the Bark

Kiddo: "It's hard to pinky promise a dog. Because they don't have pinkies."



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2014.07.13So Sad

Kiddo: "I was GUSHING cryingness."



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2014.07.06Random Conversation

Kiddo (speaking to the dogs): "Why do I like monkeys? And then YOU say, 'I don't know. I'm just cute.'"



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2014.06.22My Little Pony

Kiddo just declared that that one of the My Little Ponies is an alcoholic.



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2014.06.20Creative Minds

Kiddo is home with a friend. So far they've asked for: rope, paper, two trash bags, a leaf blower, scissors, string, and oats.



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2014.06.07Peace Out!

Laurel just told me that as they left Papa and Yaya's home, Kiddo told Yaya, "Peace out, Girl Scout!"



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2014.05.19Bone of Destiny

Kiddo (to Sailor): "I present you THE BONE OF DESTINY!"



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2014.05.15Yes, You Get Credit

I'd been sipping coffee in bed before I sat up straight. A burp escaped.

Kiddo: "DAD!! That shook CANADA!!"
Me: *blinks*
Kiddo: "Do I get credit for that?"



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2014.05.12"Trick or Treat!"

Kiddo just helped me clean the cat box. Making her say "Trick or Treat!" every time I transferred a clump into the plastic bag she held made the chore way more fun.



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2014.05.12"Don't You Know?"

Kiddo (singing):

Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
That my butt is hairy?



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2014.05.11It Was My Understanding There Would Be No Math

Kiddo: "I don't do math on the weekends."



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2014.05.11Replica

We took kiddo to the King Tut exhibit in the big city today. This evening as we talked over our day, we told her (admitted, really) that everything she saw at the exhibit was a replica.

We explained why that was the case, and what a replica was — I used the example of my wristwatch: I pointed to it and labeled it the original, then asked her to suppose another watch was placed on my other wrist that looked just like the original — to which kiddo replied, "Don't you wish your girlfriend was HOT like me? Don't you wish your girlfriend was COOL like me?"



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2014.05.09Casual Day Hottie

Kiddo just walked up behind me and said, "Well hello, casual day hottie!"



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2014.05.08Tattoos

Take the time to talk to your kids about tattoos.

Even if you're on your way out the door for work, and at the time, you really had no intention of taking the time to talk to your kid about tattoos.



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2014.05.07Have a Good Day at Work, Dad!

This morning as I entered my car to drive to work, I turned to see kiddo waving goodbye in the dining room window. I started waving back when she mooned me.

That's my girl.



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2014.04.24Giggle Words

Kiddo just used a naughty term. She told us that one of her friends calls other kids... this word. It's not a nice thing to say, but it's not horrible.

As a parent, I completely disapprove.

As, well, the rest of me, I think its completely hilarious right now.



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2014.04.11It's a Tough Decision to Make

Kiddo (reacting to a TV ad): "That toilet costs $100?"
Laurel: "$149. You can buy that toilet for $149."
Kiddo: "I know what I want to save up for. I want to buy that toilet!"
Laurel: "What?! I thought you wanted to save up to by a football player!"

She's talked for years about buying a football player. It's a stunning turn of events.



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2014.04.09The Joys of a Visit from Nana

We're discussing when might be a good time for Nana to visit again. Laurel jokingly suggested late August, which is when she goes to California to visit some friends.

Kiddo objected:

"Nuh uh!! Then only me and dad will feel the pain!!"



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2014.04.08Yes, You Do, Sweetheart

Kiddo: "I sure grow up fast sometimes."



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2014.04.07More 'Talk Thirty to Me'

Kiddo continues to explain "Talk Thirty to Me":

Diamond don't need a sprayded
Bootie don't need a splaindid
Talk thirty to me



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2014.03.30Jeff

Kiddo:""I caught a little lizard yesterday. Know what I named him? Jeff."



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2014.03.30Talk Thirty to Me

Kiddo:"Mom, can you get me this song? It goes, 'bump-ba-da-ba-bump-bump talk thirty to me."



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2014.03.26She's Anti-.

Kiddo:"YEAAAAH BOYYYYYYYYYYYYY!."
Laurel:"Oh, you're so 'gangsta.'"
Kiddo:"I know. I'm anti. Like anti-bacterial."



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2014.03.23Older Ladies Got the Sweet Rides

This just in from Laurel: "[Kiddo] just told this lady in the car next to us 'Sweet ride.' Then, by way of explanation to me, she said, 'She was an older lady. They probably said that back then.'"

Laurel estimates the woman was in her 40's or 50's.

:/



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2014.03.22Didn't Know That Was a 'Thing'

Kiddo:"He has '80's hair'."
Laurel:"70's hair."
Kiddo:"That's what I meant."
Laurel:"You didn't even know about the 70's, did you?"
Kiddo:"Nope. I didn't even know that was a 'thing.'"



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2014.03.21Denathanization

Kiddo is home from a week away— but it's going to take a while to get her back to being herself — she's spent too long in the company of her step-brother; the process is to get her "Denathanized." She came in the house wearing a God-awul "gangsta"-style ballcap (we'll make sure that gets lost in a HURRY) and a giant dog chain around her neck. And she just told Laurel, "Yoga pants suck."

We'll get that fixed right away.



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2014.03.10Her Negotiation Skills are Improving

Laurel:"I'll give you a quarter if you run out to the car and find my phone."
Kiddo:"I was thinkin' more like a dollar."



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2014.03.10Bad Guy, Huh?

We are completely blessed to live where we do, among the people we do.

Last night became a celebration of the coming of spring — a bunch of us gathered on a neighbor's porch while the kids all played together. It the awesome gift of the time change — darker in the mornings again but we've got daylight later.

The kids' favorite game together has got to be "Ghosts in the Graveyard". Basically it's a team-based Hide and Seek, except it's done at night.

One of our neighbors sent Laurel a text a short while ago, describing a point in the evening in which her daughter was banging on the shed of the house next door, which is home to a ten year-old boy.

The text explained that the ten year-old and kiddo were locked in the shed, and that she was trying to get them out.

wut

We asked kiddo about it this morning — her side of the story: "Lee" locked them both in there and said they were the "bad guys."

Now you have to know that this makes me all kinds of curious. Particularly that he chose to describe himself as a "bad guy."

New rule: No going into any place with a boy. Girls are fine — boys, not okay.



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2014.03.07Give a Kid Some Coffee...

Kiddo: "Am I turning into a grown-up? Am I 85?"



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2014.03.07That's Not Really How It Works

Kiddo: "The world record for someone getting pregnant... she was 5! And the baby came out when she was 8!!"



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2014.03.05The Line Between Game and Pets Isn't Clear Enough

Kiddo: "If we cooked Bartlett [our dog], we'd have to cut off his skin tags first."



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2014.03.03That Must Have Been Painful

Kiddo noticed a rubber chicken hung from a car antenna.

"Look! It's like my chicken — except mine didn't get stabbed in the balls."



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2014.02.21The Demise of Innuendo

So, we're doing some tidying up in the household this morning when...

Laurel: "You need to put your balls away."
Kiddo: "Awww."
Laurel: (smirks) "Dad needs to put his balls away later on."

We have a history of making smart remarks like this. No more:

Kiddo: "All dad has to do to put his balls away is put pants on."



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2014.02.19Must the Show Go On?

Kiddo sprained her thumb yesterday; it's in a splint. Three sets of eyes were on the X-rays and they finally determined there's no fracture. It's important to note that she was out of school for most of the day getting this looked at.

Today I'm told that the same bad-ass kid who even rode on a motorcycle last night with her thumb in a splint suddenly became hobbled and addled with intense pain this morning just *steps* from her daycare door — like she even somehow developed A LIMP.

What a big faker.



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2014.02.18Missed Me, Missed Me, Now You Gotta Kiss Me!

We've turned "missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me" into a game at our house. Whenever kiddo says that phrase, Laurel and I drop whatever we're doing and chase her around the house until we catch her and cover her with smooches while she giggles like crazy. We've done this for years.

We haven't done this in a while, and I'd feared that we had lost our game, like so many other cute things, to maturity — until tonight when kiddo uttered the phrase while I was doing dishes. About part way through, she realized what she was saying, and we exchanged a look. She grinned, finished her sentence, and then immediately took off up the stairs.

Seeming confident she hadn't been followed, she crept back down the stairs. When she was almost at the bottom, I tore out of an upstairs bedroom and loudly raced down the stairs behind her.

Eight-year-olds scream very differently than five year-olds do.

I'd better think it through the next time I decide to go all "Sully Sullivan" on her again!



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2014.02.18Act Normal!

Kiddo (at a restaurant): "There's a BIKER! Act normal. And say 'hi.'"



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2014.02.05I'm in the Mouth

I'm working from home today. I'd told kiddo earlier that we were SO CLOSE to getting something important done at work that I could "almost taste it."

At the time, she was nibbling on some almonds, and placed one at her lips and asked, "Like this?"

I agreed.

So when one of my teammates showed me evidence of the breakthrough we were looking for, I high-fived kiddo. She then asked, "Are you in the mouth?"

Uh... yes, I believe so!



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2014.02.05Have a Piece of Pi

Kiddo:"What comes after three?"
Me:"Four."
Kiddo:"Pi!"
Me(thinking she's making a joke about PIE): "You're right! Pi is actually 3.14, so yes, that's greater than 3."
Kiddo:"3.14159."
Me:*mind blown*



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2014.02.04OH NO HE IS NOT

Kiddo has a little Hot Wheels motorcycle and a small Lego guy with a helmet on.

Kiddo:Here's my Harley-Davidson 'crotch rocket.' This guy rides it because he has a helmet."
Me::-)
Kiddo:"Actually, he's not riding it. He's making out with it."
Me::-/



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2014.02.03Dynamite



Kiddo:"I drew 'TNT' on here."
Laurel:"No, you didn't."



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2014.02.03Word of the Day: "Clench."

Kiddo:"Whenever people get freaked out, their booties go in."



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2014.02.03Special Delivery

This one's my fault too. Back at Christmas, I was joking with kiddo about what "presents" the cat might have put in her stocking. I told her to keep an eye out for long, rectangular boxes.

So of course when a long, rectangular box arrived for me this afternoon...

Kiddo:"Dad, it looks like someone sent you a hot dog. Or a turd."



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2014.02.02Can't Wait 'Til She Tells Her Classmates

Kiddo calls. I overhear Laurel say, "You.... you paid $200 for... what are you going to do with two pairs of handcuffs?!"

The real story: She'd apparently gone to a kids' restaurant similar to a Chuck E. Cheese — but instead of awarding tickets to exchange for prizes, they used a card system — so she thought she essentially had a credit card, and therefore was earning dollars.

Why she exchanged her winnings for cheap handcuffs is another matter entirely.



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2014.01.28Yes, I said REAR

Talking tonight about cars, I mentioned "rear wheel drive".

Kiddo:"You said REAR like in 'rear end'!"
Me:"Right! A car has front wheels and..." (trailing off for her to finish)
Kiddo:"BACK WHEELS!"
Fine.



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2014.01.28Aim High, Honey

Me:"So, who do you like now?"
Kiddo:"Jake. He looks at me funny and he has eczema."



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2014.01.28Good Night, Kitty

Kiddo, as we're putting her to bed: "Say goodnight to Maya [the cat] for me. Say goodnight to 'Sweet Apple.' That's my nickname for her. Or 'Bench.'"



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2013.12.18No, She Doesn't Need to Get Used to That

The puppy gave kiddo a "kiss" on her lips. She was pretty touched by that until Laurel pointed out that he'd been licking his "boy parts" only moments before.

Kiddo's response — after surreptitiously wiping her lips on mommy's nightgown — "I really have to get used to dog ding ding on my lips."



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2013.12.12Guess We Have a New Phrase

Kiddo:"My butt's on FIRE! My butt's on FIRE! A new comedy show featuring MY BUTT'S ON FIRE!!"



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2013.12.07The Violin

Me:"If you could play any instrument, what would it be?"
Kiddo:"The violin. Because I like the way that the fingers move on it, and I like how you pull [the bow] across it, and you have to put your chin down on it like Nana Liz."



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2013.12.04A Girl's Best Friend

Laurel:"What's your favorite of the shapes you've learned about so far?"
Kiddo:"Diamond... because they're so expensive."



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2013.12.03That Matthew Must Be Magical

Kiddo:"I love Matthew."
Laurel:"What do you love about him?"
Kiddo:"He's handsome. And he turns his head when he burps."



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2013.12.03What?! She's Never Even SEEN a Poodle!

Kiddo:"If you ever get a message from PoodleLover156, that's me."



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2013.12.03Thanks for the Tip

Kiddo:"The BEST way to throw up is to sing."



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2013.11.27Wardrobe, Assemble!

We're up and getting dressed this morning when I walk by kiddo's room and overhear:

"Activate socks!"



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2013.11.26Maybe You're Doing it Wrong

Kiddo: "When I sit on the floor, I get a rash in my eye."



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2013.11.23Good Talk

Kiddo{partly out of breath from running downstairs}: "You know about our trash can?"
Laurel: -?-
Kiddo:"And Nana?!"
Laurel: -?!-
Kiddo: *eye roll*



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2013.11.21Keep Your Address Current, Kids

Kiddo has lost two teeth in the past few days. She now has gaps around her only mature adult tooth — an incisor right at the front of her mouth. She resembles a Jack-o-Lantern.

Her Nana has been visiting, so Kiddo currently sleeps on an inflatable bed in mommy's office. She wanted to be certain the Tooth Fairy got the change of address:



"I love [the] Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. I'm in my mom's office."



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2013.11.21FEEL the Eye Roll

Kiddo (to Laurel): *facepalm* "You don't 'get' jokes."



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2013.11.21Shopping is ALWAYS a Good Decision

Kiddo explains to Laurel that "safety money" is money one sets aside for an emergency. (This, in anticipation of a sale at her school in the morning.)

Laurel:"Do you think it's a good idea to use 'emergency money' for the sale?"
Kiddo:{thinking} "Hmmm....Yes."



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2013.11.20When I Can Handle It

Kiddo:"I'm going to tell everybody that I don't like Matthew anymore. Even though I really do still like Matthew."
Me: "Why would you do that?"
Kiddo: "Because I'm sick of everybody teasing me about how I like Matthew."
Me: "Well, are you going to tell Matthew that you still like him first?"
Kiddo: "Mmmm... No."
Me:"I think you should tell him, so he won't believe the things he hears from other people. You should do that before you tell the others."
Kiddo:"Ahh... Okay."
Me:Well, when are you going to tell him?"
Kiddo:"When I'm ten... when I can handle it."



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2013.11.19On Motivation

Kiddo was talking about Minecraft.

Me:"Have you played the game?"
Kiddo:"No. I just draw [Minecraft characters] to impress boys."



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2013.11.13Pain is a Pretty Good Reminder

Kiddo has a loose tooth and is trying to pull it out herself.

This morning, with her fingers in her mouth, she said, "I never felt so alive!"



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2013.10.05The Eagle Has Landed

Kiddo just described herself as a constipated eagle.

I don't know where she gets it from.



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2013.10.03Crispy Lizard

Kiddo brought home a guest from school this evening.

She first met him last night. He actually startled her as we made our way to the car. At first I thought it was a wayward ribbon of duct tape that just appeared to have features.

I thought she'd forgotten about him until I saw him in a large, clear plastic bag when I picked her up this afternoon. Kiddo and her friend were arguing over who got to take him home.

But neither of us (parents) wanted a crispy lizard as a house guest.

Before I knew it, kiddo had it in the car and was telling me she would hide it from Laurel. And as I drove us home I already knew the expired guest's time in our home would be very short.

Fast-forward to later in the evening. I excused myself from kiddo's reading exercises to look for this thing in her room. After a couple of moments, I found it at the corner of her desk, still in its protective case.

I didn't just need to remove it; I wanted to remove it and discourage her from similar adventures in the future.

How do I do that?

Why, let kiddo come back into her room to think the lizard has escaped it's plastic bag, of course!

So I bring the lizard downstairs. As I considered a means of disposal, my bladder suggested we visit the bathroom.

So, guy walks into a bathroom with a baggie and a dead lizard...

So now I'm facing the bowl. I lift the seat up with one hand and am holding the crisp guest in the other.

Well, what would you do?

Of COURSE You'd open the baggie and let the former fella drop into the water. Perfect! I can just flush him out of our lives.

Here's where I went wrong — not one to waste water, I did some more emptying before flushing.

Aaaaaaand the lizard didn't go down.

So now, not only do I have a wet, crunchy lizard to fish out of the toilet, I have a wet, crunchy, pee-covered lizard to fish out of the toilet.

Okay, kitchen cabinet. Which cup gets to take one for the team tonight?

Guy walks outside in his underpants with a crispy, pee-soaked lizard in a plastic cup...
Out my back door. I toss the lizard straight into the big trash can. I wash my hands, then grab the baggie and head back upstairs. In kiddo's room, I situate the body-free baggie with the mouth wide open, then head back to the family.

Kiddo is still reading. I type a short text to the other parent involved from earlier, and show it to Laurel— this serves as notice that I've disposed of the crispy critter.

As it happens, several of the characters in the e-book kiddo's reading are weird frog-lizard-esque creatures. Laurel starts in.

Laurel:"If you had a lizard, where would you keep it?"
Kiddo:"In my room."
Laurel:"Even if it was dead?"
Kiddo:"Yes."
Laurel:"Do you have a dead lizard in your room?"
Kiddo:"I don't really want to talk about this anymore."
With some additional pressure, kiddo comes clean and goes into her room.
Kiddo {after a long silence}: "Dad? Could you come in here for a minute?"

Oh boy.

Kiddo is STANDING on her bed, completely in belief that the lizard has escaped the bag. I pretend to look for it while kiddo goes back into our bedroom and nervously confesses her sins.

Now I'm looking around for something crunchy lizard-like to put in the baggie to show that I've "caught" it. I find some rubber... thing and drop it in the bag, hoping it's dark enough that it might resemble the tail.

As I'm scrounging about, my mother calls. Now, the ringtone I have assigned to my mother's phone number isn't really very nice. It's probably the best scream I've ever heard a man do on a television commercial.

I just wish I could have seen the girls' reaction across the hall: dad's on the hunt for a loose undead lizard when this very loud and long scream is heard from that direction.

... Nice.

(The phone call really did startle me.)

Moments later I appeared in the doorway, clutching the baggie in my fist. The girls expressed relief and gratitude. I trotted back outside (yes, in my underpants... I don't care) and deposited the baggie in the trash can.

DONE.

You know, I can't blame kiddo for her curiosity. It's remarkable how things our kids do make us remember similar things we did as children. I think remembering them helps us understand their motivators and handle the situations more appropriately.

That said, did I handle this appropriately? I scared my little girl into thinking some zombie lizard was roaming her room. Well, okay, I'm exaggerating. I made her think it got out, but then I told her I found it on the floor, and explained it had just fallen out.

And NO, she didn't wake up screaming and crying — which was a completely plausible result. But the actual result was that, though she was a little frightened, she promised not to bring home crispy lizards anymore.

So I'm calling it a win. Even with sacrificing the cup.



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2013.10.02Don't Get Homework Help from These Clowns

Buncha sea-lawyers at kiddo's day care.

We overheard several wildly incorrect answers to one boy's question about the definition of "compound." One of the responses had something to do with a squirrel.

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2013.09.15She's Not Gonna Take It

Having just finished her homework, kiddo started to sing Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It Anymore".

Mind: Blown.

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2013.09.14Little Harley Mama

Kiddo spied a Harley in the parking lot as we were leaving the soccer fields.
*GASP* "Harley! Come to mama!"


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2013.09.12Girl's Gotta Do What Girl's Gotta Do

Laurel:"Where are you going?"
Kiddo:"To the bathroom. I'm going to poop. Don't get your hopes up."


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2013.09.11Good Point, I Guess

Laurel:"What kind of motorcycle will you get when you get older?"
Kiddo:"Harley."
Laurel:"Not a 'crotch rocket'?"
Kiddo:"No. Disgusting. Who knows how many crotches have been on there?"


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2013.09.10Shower Time

Yes, I said both of these things to kiddo last night, as I scurried about to get her into the shower, out of the shower, or dressed in peejays:
"NO, That's not a place where money belongs."
She's seven and has a dime and a belly button.

"NO, You cannot dry your hair on the dog."
Laurel overheard me say that last one. She was on a video chat with a coworker at the time, and both of them had quite a laugh over it.

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2013.09.07Oh Help

Kiddo:"I almost said the 'H' word."
Me:"'Help'?"
Kiddo:"sHit."
Laurel:"But that starts with 'SH'."
Kiddo:*facepalm*


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2013.09.04PDA

Laurel and I shared a small kiss. Apparently kiddo took exception:
Kiddo: "You two are disgusting."


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2013.08.16The Natural Way of Things, Part III

Just a little follow-up here. I felt it fair to inform you that kiddo admitted to us the other night (on the eve of the first day of school) that she did not achieve her summer goal.

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2013.08.16The Natural Way of Things, Part IV

As is our tradition, we photographed kiddo in front of the house on her first day of school this year. Although I couldn't participate in this next part, Laurel, as is also our tradition, walked kiddo up to school and stood with the other parents as the children sat in queues according to classroom assignment, and saw them off as each file rose and exited the auditorium. Yes, photos are a big part of that — for me, it is customary to get a shot of her seated in line. Laurel was kind enough to take and to send me such a photo.

And in this photo, Kiddo is wearing a little bit of a funny smirk. I found out later it was because she was seated directly behind the infamous Matthew.

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2013.07.27Kid in a Candy Store

Clerk:"What's your favorite kind of candy?"
Kiddo:"I don't know... all of them?"


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2013.07.27Word.

Kiddo:"Mommy, you're 'cray cray.'"


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2013.07.26Yes, Honey. Like a Dirty Shirt.

We're about to leave the restaurant.
Kiddo:"Are we off like a dirty shirt?"


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2013.07.26Grabbing Grabbiness

Kiddo:"The secret word is 'May I.' Not grabbing grabbiness."


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2013.07.22It's the Thought that Counts

Kiddo {to Laurel}:"Who's going pottie next - you or dad? 'Cause if its dad, we have to put the seats up for him so he doesn't have to do THIS --" {stoops, makes toilet seat-raising motion}


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2013.07.13Cultural Insensitivity?

A couple of weeks ago, we all watched the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest on television. I LOVE watching this, because the contestants all take themselves so very seriously. I particularly enjoy when they list off the titles the contestants have. The whole thing just seems fantastic and fun.

Fast forward to this evening. We're walking in a parking lot. We'd just come from a restaurant. Kiddo is chowing down on an ice cream cone when...
Kiddo {pauses, starts licking the cone very slowly}: "I'm a Mexican guy."
Me:{alarmed, looks up and around, preparing an apology for whomever may be nearby} --??!!
Kiddo:"I mean, from the [Fourth of July hot dog] eating contest."
Laurel:"Oh, the guy who ate slowly?"
Me:{heavy sigh of relief}
Laurel then added that the contestant was Canadian (She was spot-on, too — he managed only nine dogs over ten minutes). Kiddo seemed as if she couldn't have cared less.

For my part, I was sort of blown away that Laurel understood what Kiddo was getting at.

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2013.07.13Nice Pick-Up Line

At dinner, kiddo asked her sleepover guest:
Kiddo: "So, is this the best night of your life?"


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2013.05.25Now if only she'd bring home some bacon...

Me: "You were so cute, sleeping in this morning."
Kiddo: "I know! I was a tired woman!"


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2013.05.25Now if only she'd bring home some bacon...

Kiddo (to Laurel): "You're out of your mind, woman!"


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2013.05.23Great Equation

Kid math.

($45 kids' sandal) > ($15 kids' sandal)

($45 kids' sandal) < ($15 kids' sandal) + ($.25 gum ball)



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2013.05.22The Natural Way of Things, Part II

Laurel:"What's the one thing you want to do this summer, that you've never done before?"
Kiddo:(hesitates) "I want to kiss a boy."


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2013.05.21The Natural Way of Things, Part I

Kiddo:"I dreamed that Maya [our grumpy old lady cat] and Sailor [our puppy] were in love. And Sailor gave Maya a bone."
Me:"Well, that happens eventually."


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2013.05.19Wasn't Me!

Me (explaining to kiddo): "Part of my job as dad is to blame things on the dog."


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2013.05.06Played it Cool

It rumbled its way toward the playground after school, loudly and smoothly like a lion's purr.

And it brought her long pants and a helmet to wear.

It was the day I showed up at her after-care on the motorcycle. And it had the effect kiddo was hoping for — the kids' jaws were all dropping.

Most notably that of the young fella she likes. "ARE YOU GOING TO RIDE THAT?!", he exclaimed.

Though she played it extremely coolly, I saw a glimmer of a smirk escape the corner of her mouth.

She pulled on her jeans (it was a warm day — she was wearing shorts) and then her helmet — and we drove off, leaving spellbound children behind.

I bet she was squeeing all the way home.

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2013.04.27Community

We went for a walk after dinner. An owl was sitting in a tree and the birds were freaking out — some were attacking the owl.
Kiddo: "But this is his community! He feels safe here."


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2013.03.27Baby's First Words

We are cautiously matching kiddo's need for spelling and reading work up with her desire to text.

The end result could be a win...


"Hi daddy do you want to play Lego Star Wars?"
...eventually.  

No, kiddo is NOT getting a phone. Think of it as a carrot-and-stick approach to reading and spelling.
"Honey, there's no point in getting you a phone if you don't know how to read."
This is technologically possible because Laurel configured her old iPod Touch, which she had seconded to kiddo, to contain limited contact information and enabled a texting capability over WiFi via Laurel's account (meaning she'll be able to read whatever kiddo sends).  

Now, to be fair, kiddo's temporary lag in English skills is consistent with the learning curve for young bilingual students; her developing Spanish skills are consuming the bandwidth that English-only kids are using for skills development, and that this usually levels out in second grade (next year).

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2013.03.08Math Books. Sure.

Kiddo this morning wanted to take something with her to day care to play with. I don't think she really cared what. She's got a bunch of little toys in a bookbag.
Kiddo: "I'm going to take this bag with me."
Laurel: "No, you're not. You don't need to take anything with you today."
Kiddo: "Yes I do! Just listen to me! It's got... my math books... and I need it to... [be a better student.]"
Me: *HOWLS WITH LAUGHTER*

Kiddo
(to Laurel):
"What's wrong with dad?"

She got what she deserved, though — Laurel emptied the bookbag of everything except the book, and let her take the bag to daycare.

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2013.03.07Parts is Parts

Kiddo had a sleepover with her "bestie" last weekend.
Kiddo:"Can [we change into our pajamas] together? 'Cause we have the same parts!"
Me:*facepalm*


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2013.02.27Cheese Pizza

In my world, pizza is divided into two classes. On the one hand, there is the awesome pizza — stuff that blows the mind with complete yumminess. On the other, there is, well, the nicer term is "throw-away pizza" — this is the stuff that one buys because they're looking for easy sustenance as opposed to an experience. The quality is comparatively "meh" — its good pizza (still way better than no pizza at all), but then, your expectations are different for this class of pie than they are for the former.

On the eve of the second "snomageddon", I bought two pies of the latter class. Simple, cheese and pepperoni pies, with thin wheat crusts. "No big whoop." (By the way, the pizzaria from which I bought them is more than quite capable of offerings of the former class.)

I was explaining to Laurel that the slice of leftover pizza I'd fed to kiddo a half-hour earlier was not meant to be her dinner.
Me: "She told me she was starving and she'd been out playing in the snow twice earlier. Just one small slice of ..."
— now, I should have said "thin" here. But instead I chose poorly, and opted for the other term I use for "throw-away pizza" — but I spelled it out:
... "s-h-i-t-t-y pizza."
She nodded in acknowledgment.
Kiddo: "Hey! You spelled 'cheese!' Cheese pizza!"
 

Shame on me.  

Sadly, it's better I accept that than attempt to correct her, given the circumstances.

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2013.02.17Been Around the Block

On a beautiful, somewhat warm Sunday afternoon, kiddo and I got the bikes out and went for a ride. Kiddo chose the route — which was simply around the block across the street.

As she led me around the first corner, I couldn't resist asking:
Me: "So, you've been around the block a few times, have you?"
Kiddo (confidently, as she pulled ahead): "Yeah."


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2013.02.13Better to Have Loved and Lost...

We were throwing the football around in the yard yesterday when kiddo told me that she and Matthew "broke up".

She also told me she apologized to him because he didn't understand what she meant when she told him that she liked him.

I tried to comfort her by letting her know that (we) boys aren't too smart about knowing when girls like them. But she didn't seem too upset about it.

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2013.02.12Proud of our Girl

When I picked kiddo up from school yesterday, she blurted this out when we got in the car:
"I TOTALLY told Matthew that I love him."
Yes, she's 7. Yes, I'm freaking out a little. But crushes are a part of life, and dealing with them is something new that she'll have to learn.

But I'm really proud of her for telling Matthew how she felt. It's an incredibly difficult and brave thing to do — and we told her so.

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2013.02.11Hopefully, This was Genius

So on Saturday afternoon Laurel and I brought kiddo to the Harley dealership to get her fitted for a helmet and to see the new bike for the first time. I was really pleased to see how excited she became!

The person who helped fit her with a full-face, no fooling around helmet noted that one brand in particular fit rather loosely — loosely enough that she surmised kiddo wouldn’t be big enough to safely ride with us for a year.

I suggested to kiddo that she work extra hard to study her math and language to help her head to grow.

(Luckily, we found a small helmet from another manufacturer that fit her.)

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2013.02.10I'm Sure the Cat Can Help With That

Kiddo has been known to rock the fauxhawk to school occasionally. Perhaps that was on her mind when she asked the cat:
"Will you do me a quick, quick favor? Will you wet my hair down with your slobber?"


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2013.02.09Hamburger Helper

Kiddo (to the cat, and for no reason): "Hamburger Helper, [kitty]. Way to go."


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2013.02.09PINK!

We took kiddo out to shop for some clothes last night. She's grown quite a bit (and is in a spurt now, we're fairly sure), and the new soccer season is just around the corner.

We were amazed by her color choices. For a kid who likes greens and blacks and grays, there was a ton of pink in that cart.

When asked about her color choices later on, she uttered a single word: "Matthew."

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2013.02.05New Rule

Me {to Kiddo}: "Honey, you cannot feed your scabs to the cat."


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2013.02.05I Don't Want You on My Midsection

Kiddo {to me}: "I'm on you like a piece of cake."


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2013.01.10Big Time Seven Year-Old

On the morning of her seventh birthday, I entered kiddo's room and woke her gently by petting her head and singing her "Happy Birthday."

When she awakened, she told me what a lovely singing voice I have.

She melts me.

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2013.01.07Well, I Guess That Would Do It

Mommy {entering the room}: "Why does it smell like poop in here?"
Kiddo {haltingly}: "Prolly... from my... butt?"


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2013.01.07It Just Isn't

Kiddo {to Mommy}: "How come life isn't fair?"


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2012.12.11Fibbing to Mommy (It's Our Little Secret)

Last night I suggested to kiddo that we should sneak out and get something together for mommy for Christmas. I let her handle how to get us out.

Kiddo's answer was to tell mommy we're going for a bike ride (it was dark out) and that to stay warm we were going to wear all our coats.

After browsing a department store, we settled into a new jewelry store. Kiddo set her heart on a stuffed Teddy Bear. I managed to acquire one with our purchase for mommy. I managed to keep the bear secret for a few minutes, anyway.

Kiddo told the jewelry store saleswoman the tale about how we snuck out; she suggested we go into the bathroom and splash water on our faces to make it look as though we'd been sweating. Kiddo accepted the suggestion without question.

On the drive home, I asked kiddo how she planned on explaining the presence of the bear, and suggested we simply not let mommy know about it until after Christmas. Unacceptable; she preferred to offer explanation.

So as soon as we got home we hurried into the guest bathroom and splashed our faces. We were dripping wet when mommy met us in the kitchen.
Mommy: "Wow! It looks like you had SOME ride!"

Kiddo: "We splashed water on our faces so we could dehydrate!"

Mommy: "What do you have there? Where did you get that Teddy Bear?"

Kiddo: "We rode all the way to the mall and while we were looking around, some
           random old lady said, 'Here!' and gave me this Teddy Bear!"


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2012.12.10"Oh, THAT F-Word!"

My mother is coming into town for Christmas. She's never visited us before, so it's a big deal. Given how she raised me, and how she was raised, we thought it might be worth attempting to rein in some of kiddo's vocabulary — at nearly 7, kiddo's still all about bodily functions.

Out from nowhere, as we watched TV last night:
Kiddo: "Has Nana ever done the 'F-word'?"
Mommy and I were frozen in stunned silence. Kiddo repeated her question. After a — forgive me — pregnant pause:
Mommy: "Has Nana ever said  the 'F-word'?"
Kiddo: "Has Nana ever DONE the 'F-word'?!"
Well, I guess that really is what she asked. As I was gearing up to answer her question (after more silence and shock):
Mommy (eventually): "Do you mean fart?"
Kiddo: "Yes! Fart!"
Imagine our relief!

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2012.12.04"Origami Style"

Well, it looks like Psy’s "Gangnam Style" is rocking the first graders at the local elementary school.

Kiddo misheard the phrase "Opa Gangnam" as "Origami." Hence the title.

I was in the kitchen washing dishes when I heard Laurel and kiddo playing various YouTube videos of the song on the TV. I thought the mashup with MC Hammer’s "2 Legit 2 Quit " was particularly clever.

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2012.11.14"I Certainly Didn't See That Coming" moment #531

Having to explain to kiddo the origin of the "pants-below-the-bootie" fashion trend.

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2012.11.13Broke It To Me Gently

Kiddo {calling down the stairs}: "Hey, Dad! I have a boyfriend. His name is Matthew. And he has manners. When he burps, he covers his mouth. And he never farts. He's 7."


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2012.10.29Hot Dogs and Love

I'm becoming a victim of my own humor. Some time ago I was describing some food to kiddo when I told her it "smelled like LOVE and AMERICA." Now I'm getting paid back:
Kiddo: "My farts smell like hot dogs and love!"
*sigh* If only she would use her powers for good.

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2012.08.05Sensitivity Training: Grandparents

I can't make this stuff up. We were seated at the dinner table, talking about manners. I began to recount for kiddo what formal dinners with my grandparents was like.
Me: "My grandparents were very strict at the table. 'Strict' means they had some very serious rules."

Kiddo: "BUUUUUUUUUUT they're dead."
*stunned*

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2012.08.01"Ahscience" Seating

Kiddo's registered for first grade. She's not too wild about the assigned seating, though:
[Kiddo] is mad because she has 'ahscience' seats. I asked if she meant 'assigned' and she assured me she did not. "'Ahscience' means you don't get to sit with friends.'"


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2012.07.30$1.37

We kept kiddo home from day care today for a special project. When we moved in a year ago, we made kiddo a deal: She could keep the finished part of the basement (which is most of it) for her toys. She could use it as a "rec room" and was free to keep it messy most of the time in exchange for helping keep the main floor and her bedroom tidy.

So the project today was to organize her basement playroom a bit, and to donate toys and clothes that didn’t make the cut to the local rescue mission.

I phoned to see how mommy was holding up during the noon hour. Kiddo described to me all of the money she brought with her. I told her it totalled $1.37.

I didn’t realize she was about to donate it:
'She told one of the residents, "I'm sorry you don't have money and toys for your kids. I brought some for you!"'
She humbles me.

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2012.07.23Time for Sensitivity Training

While stopped at an intersection last night, kiddo and I noticed a pair of morbidly obese young ladies standing at the corner.

As the people crossed the street in front of us, kiddo broke the silence:
"BEST FRIEND FATTIES!!"
— Calvin and I are going to have a talk about that.

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2012.05.29Impressive!

We're watching Tigers baseball on TV. Kiddo caught the announcer mentioning Miguel Cabrera's age. Well, part of it, anyway:
Kiddo: "Is he really nine?"
Me: "No, honey. He's 29."
Kiddo: "If he was nine, I would be impressed."


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2012.05.25I Just Posted a Pic of My Kid on the Internet

I'm thinking about this because I just posted a photo of my kid on Facebook. Well, it's a comparison photo — my kid's head compared to Limecat.

Limecat
I also posted that someday kiddo will drive home and kick my butt for it. But this is what got me thinking...

The Information Age already OWNS our children. We (and by "we" I mean, people who are at least in their 30's) grew up in nearly complete anonymity, relative to the world. Not so now: there are pictures and documents and all kinds of digital flotsam and jetsam pertaining to probably every child in the civilized world stored on some server somewhere.

Kids are photographed with digital cameras and camera phones the moment they're born. Those pictures are sent to people and uploaded to websites. Websites are crawled by search engine bots.

Hell, I bet I can make up a name and type it into GIS and will be able to find a photo of a child.

To prove my point, I just opened another browser tab and typed in a name I just made up: "Thomas Lund." Immediately I found information about a dancer and a retired badminton player from Denmark, plus photos of tons of other people — including preschool- and elementary school-aged kids — sharing that name.

As preschool-aged Thomas Lund grows up, his digital legacy will follow. Hell, by the time young Thomas reaches high school all officials will have to do is Google the kid's name and they'll find far more information than they could ever hope to consume. Why keep a file?

At this point, baby Thomas' parents have already contributed gigabytes, if not terabytes, of data about him to the Internet. Photos. Videos. Images of his preschool art projects. Data that all fits neatly into a timeline. Heck, Facebook and it's timeline.

As the boy Thomas grows, so too has his digital footprint. As pre-teen Thomas is being fitted for braces his young friends are uploading silly things onto YouTube and making Facebook posts on top of the contributions his parents are making. Surely there are terabytes of data on him by now.

I'd bet the quantity of data multiplies five- or ten-fold through Thomas' high school years. Papers he writes. Research he does. Notes for his classes. The whole world can know when he gets his first car. Girlfriend. BOTH. The burden on the servers probably expands exponentially at this point, and keeps on growing through college years.

By the time young Mr. Lund reaches the workforce, any prospective employer will know everything there is to know about the kid. Would there really be any need for a résumé?  
 
~~~  
 
*sigh* I just posted a pic of my kid on the Internet.

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2012.05.11I'm Sure Dad is Laughing

My father used to give me lots of grief over my smelly feet.

I was a teenager back when "Miami Vice" hit the air. The lead character, played by Don Johnson, wore a Vans-like slip-on shoe without socks. (It WAS the eighties, after all).

Tonight I got paid back for it when I took kiddo shopping for shoes… I have a six year-old who could knock a buzzard off a poop wagon just by letting her dogs out.

The smell nearly knocked me over in the store. I was bent over her leg, helping her fit a shoe onto her foot when it hit me, full-force, both nostrils.

I knew Dad loved it.

(By the way, I haven’t gone without socks since, well, probably the early nineties.)

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2012.04.22Part of a "Zombie Costume," eh?

Kiddo came home from a playdate at a neighbor's home wearing a studded collar (such as one might find in an adult toy store). It was reportedly given to her by the eight or nine year-old brother of the girl she went to visit. When my wife saw the collar, she immediately locked up. The challenge for us became to act in front of kiddo like the collar wasn't a big deal (so it'll be forgotten about in a day or two), despite the fun we were having with the idea the boy had accidentally passed along an article of his parents', eh, personal clothing.

It turned out the collar really was part of the boy's Halloween costume after all.

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2012.04.04So, Does That Mean You're Happy For Us?

Me: "On Sunday, we'll have been married for a whole year! What do you think about that?"

Kiddo: "Watch this!" { grabs her butt cheeks and laughs }
Nice, kid.

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2012.03.26Well, She's Confident, Anyway

Driving home tonight and kiddo (6) starts belting out LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It" from her car seat.

Mind: Blown.

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2012.02.28Working on spelling

We've been working on kiddo's vocabulary skills — reading to her and watching "Word World" in the evenings. Last night, she fielded this question:
"Does 'Benjamin' start with a silent 'k'?"
??

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2012.02.23Not Helping, Family

I'd started the Atkins diet in early January, and was displeased with the results of the morning's weigh-in. I went north instead of south by 1/2 lb. Kiddo asked how I did; I told her.

A short while later we readied to leave. I reminded her that I was picking her up from school that day. She replied by calling me “Jabba the Hut.” (Her innocent follow-up: “He has a green shirt on, and Jabba wears a green shirt.” Not much of a save.)

My wife's bedside manner could use some work, too — she jumped in and said, “You’re not obese, you know. You’re clinically obese.”

Screw you guys!

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2012.01.19Ahh, Memories

I was digging through the “Notes” app on my phone when I found a trip diary from two years ago. I’m actually amazed I typed this much into my phone. Most notable entry follows:
Dec. 30

Nothing has ever given me "stagefright" faster than when [kiddo told me, after I ushered] her into the pottie, "You can go first."


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2012.01.10Can't Argue with That!

On Turning 6:
Kiddo: "I think when I’m 6 I’ll have to be even ‘gooder and cooler’ than when I was only 5."


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2012.01.07You're Going to Receive My Compliment AND LIKE IT

Kiddo was on a roll tonight:
Kiddo: "You are the cutest!"

Me: "No, YOU are!"

Kiddo: "Don’t make me slap you."
Here's a great example of Kindergarten humor:
Kiddo: "Let me tell you a joke. What did the K-State say to the dog?"

We: "I don’t know. What?"

Kiddo: "YOU LOVE BALLS!!!"
For this last one, a little background: We’ve been a game I’ll call, "What’s More Important?" It’s a game of comparison. She has to choose which of two things is more important to her. This evening she apparently thought she had a hard question for me. ‘Cept that’s not how it came out (blockquote as how I perceived it — it's a little off-color):
Kiddo: "Dad? I have a hard on for you."

*pause*

Me: "You have a what??"

Mommy: (in the room at the other end of the hall) *erupts in laughter*


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2012.01.05Just Be Yourself

Happened just this morning:
Mommy: "Wow! Great job on those buttons! That shirt is tough."

Kiddo: "Yep."

Mommy: "Do you know what that’s called when you keep trying even when something is difficult?"

Kiddo: "That’s called 'being me'."


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2011.12.20My "Balls" are Beautiful and Green

Kiddo, my wife and I were talking about eyes at lunch (read: in a restaurant, in public) the other day. Here’s how that conversation ended.
Me: "Did you know that your eyeballs won’t grow? Though your head and body will grow, You were born with your eyeballs at full size already."

Mommy: (detecting some confusion on kiddo’s face) "Your eyes are sometimes also called your eyeballs."

Kiddo (loudly, after much thought): "Do you know whose balls I like? (Points at me) THIS GUY’S! Because they’re green!"

Me: *facepalm*

Kiddo (quietly) "I don’t like mine because they’re blue."
I was as red as a beet! And the smiles I got from people at the tables around us didn’t exactly help either!

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2011.12.13Have a Great Day to You, Too!

Mommy: {to kiddo, as we’re walking out the door} "I need a kiss from you!"

Kiddo: "Kiss my butt."
We’re convinced she doesn’t understand that’s an insult. Still, I was LMAO all the way to work!

EDIT: We did explain to her that evening that it's not something she should say.

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2011.08.17You're WHAT?

Kiddo waits until my wife is out of the door this evening before she shuts it and whispers to me, "Don’t tell mommy, but I’M really your husband."

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2011.06.21Fathers' Day: "Daddy, You're Not Invited"

I just knew something like this would happen.

But first, lemme just say that I had an AWESOME Fathers’ Day. I got a card from my lovely daughter and a picture in a frame she picked out — it’s all set for my desk at the new office. We shopped a little, we swam, we played, we cooked a fabulous dinner, then joined the in-laws for dessert at a local restaurant.

I had just come in from cooking three LOVELY ribeyes to find my wife laughing in the kitchen. Apparently she’d just hung up the phone with her ex-husband. She had kiddo call to wish him a happy Fathers’ Day (which I’m told she did, though reluctantly). From there, kiddo spilled the beans about the dessert plans with the larger fam. Apparently she actually told him something along the lines of, "We’re going to see grandma and granddad… for dessert. Oh, daddy, you’re not invited."

YEEESH! Can’t tell that kid ANYTHING!

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2011.04.23Awww Maaan

Our Unitarian daughter attends daycare/nursery school at a Baptist church of all places. Makes for some interesting conversations at times.
Tonight, for example, we were just about to sit down to dinner when kiddo insisted we say a prayer. By the way, the word “prayer” is enough to make glasses drop from my wife's hands.
Although she declined kiddo’s invitation, I was told I’d accept. (Yes. You read that right.) So kiddo taught me the following prayer, sung to the tune of Frère Jacques:
God our Father
God our Father
Once again
Once again
We will ask for blessing
We will ask for blessing
Awww maaaan
Awww maaaan
This, by the way, from the kid who saw a plastic statue of Jesus in a party store and asked mommy to take a picture of her with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

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2011.03.24Terminology

Thought I’d spent a little time away from work and give you something fun to read while you’re not working either: A table of kiddo terminology! Most of these are used when we’re on the road together or out someplace.

Slug-Bug

Now, you should know what this is — this game has been around since I was a kid. We play it a little differently, though: There’s no actual slugging involved. First person to call “slug bug” with the color of the VW beetle wins. The others MUST say “Aww, you got me!”

"Slug bug old!"

Kiddo’s exclamation upon sighting an actual classic “slug bug.”

Darth Vader Car

A Darth Vader car is any car that has one of those racks mounted to the grill — like a bumper that comes up as far as to protect the lights. In order to be a Darth Vader car, that rack must be black. The car being black helps, too — I suppose it resembles Darth Vader’s mask.

Slug-Bug with a Black Vent

When I was in high school, we called these "bras" — black fabric or pleather used to protect the front of the car near the hood. Sometimes these “bras” have holes cut in them for the car’s lights. Kiddo relates this to the mouth area (the “vent”) of Darth Vader’s mask. As it happens, we have a green slug-bug with one of these black protectors in our neighborhood… so it became the green slug bug with the black vent.

Stormtrooper Car

Let me know if you’re picking up any strong tendencies toward Star Wars here. As you might guess (in opposition to the Darth Vader Car, a Stormtrooper Car is a white car with a black grille.

TV Car

A TV Car is a squarish vehicle such as the Honda Element, Kia Soul, or the Nissan Cube. By the way, when calling a “TV Car”, one does not have to specify the color. “TV Car!” is apparently sufficient.

Flinga Wheels

This was a tough one. "Flinga" refers to a type of hubcap design which features few spokes. Kiddo imagines that flinga wheels can be extended from the wheel to send foes spinning out of control. I think I recall that this was one of the inventions on Speed Racer’s Mach 5 — but that was a long time ago.

Balloong Fight

FINALLY something not car or Star Wars-related. “Balloong Fight” is a game in which we sit at opposite ends of the short hallway between the two bedrooms and pass a balloon back and forth between each other by tapping it. Really have no idea how this became a "fight".


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2010.12.30Lesson #39: Don't Let Your Child Learn About Traffic Rules from Holiday Comedies

Kiddo spied a taxi lingering near the door of the restaurant tonight. As we walked toward the entrance, she squeezed our hands and yelled, " THE YELLOW ONES DON’T STOP!!"

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2021.11.25Giving Thanks

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

Today is the day to look back on the year and be thankful for the many blessings I have.

I am extraordinarily grateful to my family and extended family for their presence and encouragement this year.

In the sense of "what's old is new again," 2020 taught us all about the value of health in a "new" way — the global COVID-19 pandemic. The news was filled with references to the 1918 flu pandemic, and Americans were asked to curtail some personal liberties for the good of all.

Last year I wrote, "I think our society may be forever changed by the pandemic — many of us (going back to the political division) have been wearing masks when outside of our homes for the last several months, and who would have thought, in 2018, that hand sanitizer and clorox® wipes would be such hit commodities this year?" Well, looking around the house, we have tons and tons of disposable masks, and I know right where those clorox wipes are.

But this year, my thankfulness for health is even greater than what we learned in 2020. This past April, I completely changed my relationship with food. I was obese, and I believe my diabetes had begun to affect sensation in my feet. So I decided not only to change my diet, but to allow my blood glucose readings (and I hadn't read it in years) to dictate what my diet would be. It was a bold and scary move, to be honest. And I'm incredibly thankful I made that change. Six months later, my weight is under 225; I'm wearing jeans with a 36" waist comfortably, and 34" waist less comfortably (BUT THEY'RE ON!) — I wore 32" waist in high school. I have more energy; my key values from blood sample analysis show levels within or very nearly within normal values — including and especially, my A1C (which dropped from 16+ down to 7), and cholesterol (which was halved). In three months, my diabetes became well controlled, and my eyesight actually improved by an entire diopter in both eyes — one of which no longer requires correction! After all of these shocking changes, I learned that my wife was secretly very concerned about my health and my weight. Health has become my top priority, and I'm so incredibly thankful for the encouragement I received from family, friends, and the medical professionals who consult with me.

2020 is a year in which being thankful isn't nearly as passive as previous years. The health I'm grateful for is earned by discipline — the discipline to cover our faces, the discipline to stay at home, the discipline to keep the outside world out and away. I'm thankful we've been able to remain healthy until now, and I ask for the strength and discipline to remain as vigilant over the coming months.
2021 really isn't much different, except that for me, the discipline went much, much further. I've been "eating clean" for six months, and I have seen — actually seen — the benefits. And so this year I ask for the strength and discipline to remain vigilant, and to remain healthy.



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2020.12.07Christmas Convenience

Image of a decorated Christmas tree

I can probably attribute the decision to a number of factors, but the bottom line is this: this year we opted out of setting up our full-length Christmas tree.

Maybe we did it because 2020 has been such an awful year anyway.

Maybe we did it because, quite honestly, getting it down from the attic, decorating it, putting away the boxes, then getting the boxes back down, putting everything away, and stowing everything in the attic again is SUCH a pain in the neck.

Yeah, probably that more than anything else.

Kiddo confirmed she was onboard, but we couched it in a particularly sensitive way: I green-lighted Laurel getting a new kitten, and reasoned that having a Christmas tree would just invite a lot of trouble we really don't need. Or want.

Kiddo's reply was basically that she's of the age where she cares much more "about the process" — dinner, gifts, family time — than in the actual tree.

Still, I feel like we're losing something by letting this go. Don't get me wrong — setting it up and taking it all down really is a collossal pain in the neck. But I've always loved to just sit and admire the lit tree at night. It takes me back to childhood, and memories of laying beneath the tree and looking up at the colored bulbs.

My grandparents had a tiny tree they sat on their console television set. When Christmastime would come around, they'd bring it up from the basement or bring it down from their attic and remove the garbage bag that covered it for it's spring/summer/autumn nap. My grandfather would go to the local bank and get us each a crisp, new $5 bill, and place them in money envelopes on the little tree. Once the holiday was over, the annual black bag job happened again, and the little tree — decorations and all — went back to it's place for its long nap. My grandparents were in their 70's in this story. They weren't into wrestling a 7' artificial tree down and up flights of stairs.

For some reason, especially this year, we get it.

Laurel bought a small holiday display we'll put up instead. I think it's a tree or trees in a sleigh. Pre-lit.

If we decide to bring down the big tree again, we can set the small one in a window facing the neighborhood or something. Speaking of the neighborhood, there are services that will put up lights on your house for you and take them down again. One such company (well, it was a guy, really) estimated his services were worth $700.00. I don't have the jingle in my pockets to afford that.

I'll miss the magic of the large tree. I know I will. But I'm not willing to pay the price of spending hours hauling all that shit up and down the attic stairs four times. At least not this year.

Perhaps this is a slippery, snowy slope: maybe we're headed for TV trays (my grandparents ate their dinner on them in front of their TV) next.



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2020.12.01Thankfulness Follow-up

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

Last week in my Thanksgiving post, I mentioned being thankful that Kiddo's situation was improving. I must remain vague about the situation, but I do have an update I can share.

The investigation — started by a mysterious third party — involves an exploratory component, performed by Child Protective Services (CPS) departments, and, if merited based on the results of the CPS investigation, a legal component, starting with an investigation performed by appropriate law enforcement (LE) agencies and the legal system. As I understand it, if the information produced by CPS fails to meet LE criteria for continuation, no further action is taken.

Our family here was interviewed by a Texas-based CPS agent as a courtesy to CPS of the other state (that's why "departments" was plural).

According to an update I received yesterday, Kiddo's stepmother is in the market for a lawyer to defend her son — which suggests CPS' work has met the threshold for LE involvement. It's the only detail I have, but it means a lot because it shows things are moving forward, and I am thankful for that.

My desired end game is that Kiddo gets the care she needs to be made whole. Our lovely Kiddo has been a hot mess. She has PTSD from the experiences — something she did not need on top of her Tourette's Syndrome. She's experiencing so much anxiety that it's seriously disrupted her sleep cycles, her eating, her ability to concentrate (which was frail to begin with), her senses of touch and personal space and security (she's not "a hugger" anymore; she closes every door behind her) and her scholastic performance — these are just the disruptions I have observed. For what it's worth, I'm told by experts that all of these are disorders (my word; probably incorrect) common to victims of the abuses she alleges.

These things must be made right.



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2020.11.26Giving Thanks

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

Today is the day to look back on the year and be thankful for the many blessings I have.

Last year, I wrote "Much like 2018, 2019 has been a very challenging year." 2020 has been "challenging" on a whole new level: a global pandemic has spread across the earth. The disease, commonly known as COVID-19 ("19" because it was discovered in China in 2019) apparently originated in bats and has evolved in such a way as to be alarmingly dangerous to humans. The disease is responsible for about 1.5 million deaths in over 61 million cases so far this year. In the United States, no leadership was shown from the White House — the Trump Administration preferred to downplay the virus and the need for protective measures — causing skyrocketing infections and the deaths of about 1/4 million American citizens. The Trump Administration also politicized the virus, causing a very strong correlation between party affiliation and views on protection. To be honest, yes, 2018 and 2019 were awful years, but they were nothing like the absolute shitshow 2020 is.

I and my family still seem to have our health — 2020 has made me more grateful for our health over everything else this year — but it comes at a steep price, and in a way that's different from what I wrote about last year. I've come to believe that it's easier for me to deal with the pandemic, having lived in Central America among a population hostile to Americans; but my wife and daughter haven't had that experience. I think our society may be forever changed by the pandemic — many of us (going back to the political division) have been wearing masks when outside of our homes for the last several months, and who would have thought, in 2018, that hand sanitizer and clorox® wipes would be such hit commodities this year? Hell, there was even a shortage of toilet paper because people were hoarding it! HORARDING TOILET PAPER?!

The American economy in particular was probably the most notable collateral damage of the pandemic reaching our shores. The Lieutenant Governor of Texas infamously told people to get out and work "because there are more important things than living." — I've actually got that quote memorized, because it was all over the news at least twice. He said that in a televised interview. I have been out of work for four months. My client simply "ghosted" me and the company I contract with. I found another job, but COVID has complicated things there, too — I can't get fingerprinted at the local police department because COVID is so rampant in the jails that they won't even allow their own DISPATCHERS to receive the service. In a nutshell, I have two jobs and have made no money for half the year. I'm thankful that our mortgage company has waived our payments during the pandemic. I honestly don't know what we would have done had that not happened.

Along with sickness, death, and health complications that can stretch far into the future, the pandemic has also brought with it isolation. Because COVID-19 spreads so rapidly, and because temperatures across the United States are cooling because we're now in autumn, smart people are staying as isolated as they can to stay safe. And that is taking a toll on our collective mental and emotional health. I am grateful for communication with friends over Facebook, and for being able to visit with relatives via text messages and telephone calls. My mother lives in a care facility. Facilities like hers are extremely susceptible to COVID-19 infection. I am very grateful the owners and caregivers there are keeping everyone safe.

This year, politics got in the way of a lot of friendships, and some of my friends left Facebook because of it. Trumpism has a very strong appeal for some, and there was no shortage of fighting over almost ANYTHING posted to Facebook. Anything about poltics or about COVID, both of which dominated pretty much everything about 2020, caused quarreling. I'm sad for the people who suspended or closed their accounts, because they perceived that something so bad had happened that they didn't want to be part of Facebook anymore, and selfishly because by doing that, they've opted out of reach. People I served with 25 and 30 years ago. This year on Veterans' Day I spent the day reaching out to particularly people who have become passionately conservative to say hello — to thank them for serving, thank them for our friendship, and to remind them that we have memories together that should be stronger than the current political climate. Some responded, some didn't. And that's okay. Even for some veterans, observance of Veterans Day isn't for everybody. I'm still thankful for each and every one of them, and the contributions we made.

I'm also very, very thankful that things with Kiddo appear to be improving. She has had another very difficult year, and we learned that she was attacked several times by her older step brother while she was in Kansas for the summer. Happily, somebody contacted Child Protective Services about it in Kansas, which contacted an office here in Texas; the incidents were investigated, and have been closed, which is something that must happen before law enforcement takes over. I've no idea current status, but I'm extremely grateful to whomever made the initial call. My wife and I only learned about it well after the fact. Kiddo's other dad completely disbelieves that anything happened, and went so far as to tell her she was sick, and not welcome in his home any longer. Our child needs our support, maybe more now than ever before, and I'm proud to be a part of that effort. Kiddo recognizes it, too — she has asked for my fullest commitment. We await for justice to be served.

I am tremendously grateful to have learned about my birth parents this year. I am very hopeful I'll hear back from the National Archives about my father's military record — I understand he was killed in action in South Vietnam in 1972. I've always had a respect for Vietnam veterans — it's part of the military culture — but now it's personal. It's very personal.

2020 is a year in which being thankful isn't nearly as passive as previous years. The health I'm grateful for is earned by discipline — the discipline to cover our faces, the discipline to stay at home, the discipline to keep the outside world out and away. I'm thankful we've been able to remain healthy until now, and I ask for the strength and discipline to remain as vigilant over the coming months.



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2020.11.14On Acceptance And Skepticism

As I have written in the past, Kiddo has Tourette's Syndrome. The syndrome part means it has multiple symptoms. Everybody who has TS has different combinations of symptoms — different disorders. No two people are exactly alike. That's why there's no TS medication on the market; treatment involves addressing individual disorders.

I would say Kiddo's most noticeable disorder is her OCD. It's a "force multiplier," in that it takes whatever intrusive thought or doubt or negative feeling she has and it MAKES HER focus on it, creating anxiety and making her feel worse, perhaps cyclically.

Kiddo also has a LOT of anxiety, which we recently learned is traceable to a series of events that occurred while Kiddo was spending the summer with the other half of her family.

For reasons I don't understand, and seemly coincident with the recent shift from Daylight Saving Time to Standard Time, Kiddo's anxiety has been through the roof. It's affected her scholastic progress — to the point where I got a call from the assitant principal of her school, threatening me with a visit from the Truancy police. (In kiddo's defense, she's been emailing her assistant the entire time — we have the receipts.)

Apart from her medicinal regimen, which I believe does a fairly good job at keeping her "level" under normal circumstances, we have looked into the benefits of cannabidol (more commonly known as "CBD", a naturally occurring compound found in cannibis which has been shown to reduce signs of anxiety). CBD is different from tetrahydrocannabinol (THC), the psychoactive compound in cannibis. CBD is commonly sold in oil form, which is administered by a dropper, but may also be administered in other forms, such as inhallation through an electronic nicotine delivery system (ENDS), also known as a vape.

Here's where my problem starts.

I'm scared to death of vapes because of the widely publicized hospitalizations and even deaths of young people using "counterfeit" vapes. In these events, Vitamin E acetate was present in the lungs of these users; Vitamin E acetate is now known in interfere with normal lung operation. 1

Last night, Kiddo spent the night with a family friend who vapes. I don't know the exact circumstances, but basically Kiddo radioed home with news that she either tried or has an ENDS with a CBD vape cartridge, and that it was AMAZING. Her demons, spawned by her anxiety and stoked by her OCD, were absent: she had no hallucinations, no intrusive thoughts, and no seizures. Basically, she had the best night she's had in a long time — she's been scared to sleep in her room for MONTHS.

We'd suggested CBD oil in the past, and we are aware that absorption using a dropper takes time. (We even spoke to her psychologist about it, but at the time CBD was so new — at least, in Texas — that the legality of use had not been settled, and she was unable to weigh in.) Last night Kiddo inhaled whatever this CBD product was through an ENDS, and she claims her relief was nearly immediate.

Boy do I feel stuck. I watch her experience all of these awful things and feel so helpless to do anything about them — I mean, we have her in therapy, she's taking medications, and I can report observations and ask that adjustments be made, but those are strategic things, not tactical things, if you get my meaning.

Here, she seems to have a solution she can use prophylactically so she can avoid all these awful effects. What parent could NOT be in favor of something like that?

The sticky part for me is the potential for some sort of lung damage later on... or maybe a sort of addiction? What if she later gets into combination CBD+THC vapes, or uses one by accident? I have SO MANY questions... let's perhaps color it a "healthy skepticism."

I'm conflicted. I could be from 65% to 80% happy, 10% to 25% "healthily concerned," and around 10% worried.



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2020.02.25Credit Scores!

When we refinanced the house a year ago, we found a company willing to take a gamble on us. I remember when we were going through the qualifications and reviews and stuff, and the agent asked us what we thought our credit scores were. I honestly had no idea.

He told me what it was. It was ghastly. Like, low 500s ghastly. This, friends, is the lasting effect of spending every last dime and every penny of your credit on a move that ultimately will not be reimbursed via your tax return.

Still, he got us the refi, and we were grateful to drop our rate down to 4%.

Today, Laurel told me she wants to refi again. We're getting letters telling us we could get rates as low as the upper 2%s. But the real excitement came when she checked our credit scores.

We have worked very hard to get out of the crippling debt we incurred nearly two years ago. Laurel came up with a really good plan, and we've done our best to work it — I spent months putting in extra hours each week to make it happen, and Laurel cut out a few extras and sold stock periodically.

The payoff: my score is now just below 700. It's SUCH a great feeling — I tried to explain to kiddo what it means — I don't want her to be like I was: At 16, I was driving around without insurance. My parents never told me about car insurance or what it meant. My silent oath to my daughter is to make sure she at least knows there are things like this in the world. Sorry. I'm taking us off topic...

If another refi can happen and we can get a rate like that, we could pay more debt off with the money we'd save in not having a house payment for a couple of months, plus, of course, pay free up more money to throw at bills by saving hundreds on our mortgage payment. Another boost to my credit score should happen later in the year, when the note on my car is paid in full.

It's SUCH a great feeling. (I mean, I'm feeling good about my score, regardless of whether we can actually refinance again.)



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2020.01.05Building Technology Life Skills

Image of three teens looking at their mobile phones

Someone going by the name "HR Mom" made an intriguing Facebook post that talks about how woefully underprepared kids are to enter the workforce. Drawing on her experience as an HR professional, she has distilled a number of broad skills into small tasks which she assigns to her two kids. The objective is simple: to build in them those basic workforce skills so many lack when entering the market.

A lot of parents claim they give their kids devices so they can develop and keep their technology skills sharp. If we are not intentional about directing HOW they use this technology, they are likely to leave our homes with virtually ZERO actual marketable computer skills.

I'm an HR Director and my team hires entry-level employees on a daily basis... We hire so many young 20's who are downright addicted to their phones yet don't know the absolute basics of using technology and struggle with making and receiving phone calls. The anxiety levels these "kids" (new hires) face when they encounter even small amounts of conflict or gray areas on a customer call can be debilitating for so many of them.

As the Mom of a teenaged son, I thought I’d share some practical ways to prepare your kids for real-life use of technology needed for "adulting."

1) Have them conduct basic internet research for you...

Examples: Have them research the best way to kill weeds or find the cheapest price for fence replacement, etc. Have them find the cheapest rental car and hotel for your vacation. Talk to them about how reservations and insurance work and HAVE THEM CALL to reserve it. Let them fumble and make mistakes on the call while you're there to coach and encourage them. If they mess up, who cares? They need to practice while the stakes are low.

2) Have them call to pay any medical bills that come in. Show them where to find Date of Service and Invoice #. Sit with them and coach and encourage them through the call. Tell them what they did right/wrong and watch their confidence grow.

3) Have them call tech support any time something in the home goes down - internet, cable, water, A/C, etc. Let them walk through the steps for internet to come back on. This prevents your kids frantically texting you from college asking what to do.

4) Have them call to schedule their own haircuts, doctor and dentist appointments, and dog grooming appointments. Again, if they sound dumb or forget to say something or ask something, who cares? If they learned something, it was a success!

Her list continues. I'm a big fan. At the close, HR Mom claims "My boys (15 and 11) can confidently navigate self-checkout, withdraw cash from an ATM, pump gas, make phone calls with confidence, order groceries, manage an Excel "budget", order an Uber."

I love this idea, and am working to figure out how we can apply these lessons with kiddo in an effective and positive way. For us, I figure ordering dinner would be a terrific start: we'll coach her through it until she gets the hang of it, and eventually it'll become a task she can own.

Find "HR Mom" on Facebook.



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2019.11.28Giving Thanks

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

Today is the day to look back on the year and be thankful for the many blessings I have.

Much like 2018, 2019 has been a very challenging year.

I learned that the company I was working with was going to allow my contract to expire, because my position did not fit well with their changing vision. I am thankful I was able to find a position elsewhere, with a company who was willing to work with me to bring me aboard, in a position that appears to offer me a future, and my family some stability and peace of mind.

When I picked up this new job, I learned I could work extra hours for one of our clients, so Laurel and I devised a plan to use the extra hours to get rid of some debt by the end of the year. I'm incredibly thankful that we had to the opportunity to execute that plan, and to get a few artifacts from our suddently-NOT-tax-deductible 2018 move paid off.

The importance of ethics in business was underscored for me a time or two; I am thankful that, in both cases, honesty won the day.

Kiddo has had a horrible year, at one point spending time in a juvenile rehab facility to get her Tourette's Syndrome medications changed. It seemed much like she was wrongfully imprisoned; she saw some terrible things in her week there. I am incredibly grateful for her beautiful, light-bearing soul. We're at another time of change, moving her off of medications that have been causing seizures — particularly in the evenings. I am so grateful that I can be with her to watch her, to find her when she has fallen, and to be a familiar, smiling face for her to wake up to when seizures happen. She's away for the holiday, and I miss her. Maybe I'm grateful for her time away, in that she gets to see others in her family and give us a little time to drop our guard a bit.

This extra saving effort, along with other good decisions, also allowed us to make some small changes around our home. I'm thankful Laurel and I were able to give each other the gift of some fresh coats of paint over some of our neutral walls. Laurel's stability in her position afforded her occupation of the office in our home; I'd been working from home a few days per week from the kitchen table, then moved into the dining room. Laurel's gift to me was an overhaul of the dining room into an office of my own, complete with decorating the walls with various mementos from my military career. I'm especially grateful for this gift, because I feel I have a place in my home now that has been dedicated to me, as much as she has her space in the office. I'm also grateful for (maybe) having finally figured out that when she has a vision, it's my job to just let it happen. Any input I give gets overruled anyway. At least I stopped her from reframing all of my awards.

I'm also very grateful we've been able to make sure kiddo has a pretty rockin' Christmas holiday.

But most of all, I'm thanful for my family and for my health. Everything I've talked about so far all sort of traces back to money and my ability to earn it, and without those, I can't provide for those I love. The same is true of my health. I'm over 50 now. I'm in the zone where the powertrain warranty expires, and maintenance becomes more important. I'm thankful we found a healthcare provider at the start of the year (we had a delay in joining, because of the awful influenza epidemic here last winter), and I'm staying current. I could do better, but I'm thankful for what I have.

It seems weird that I mention family last, but without all the other things, I couldn't support them — and supporting them is entirely the point. I love Laurel and kiddo much much more than I can relate in words, and I am thankful for them every day. Every. Day. I wouldn't change a thing about kiddo — I love her with my whole heart with all of her tics and gestures and laughter and bloody noses. My heart aches for her, but even with all of her imperfections, she is my perfect child. And Laurel... I am so thankful for her ferocious love. We are both working from home now — I get to sit in my new converted office and admire her through her office doors; admire her poise, admire her skill with her people; admire the love they show her in return. I can't begin to recall all of the ways I'm thankful for who she is, for what she does, and for what she sees in me. And, I'm also very thankful she has friends who love her; she was able to take a weeklong trip with them to the coast earlier this year.

So I guess it all comes down to being thankful I was able to take care of my family this year. We've still some red on our ledger, but we're moving in the right direction.

I've so, so much to be thankful for. Despite all of the downs. We win some, we learn some.



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2019.09.26She turned my relaxation app into a fart machine

To help kiddo relax at bedtime, I offered her a copy of the TaoMix 2 app, which lets one create a mixture of pleasing sounds — birds chirping, a sea shore, rain, wind, that sort of thing. One creates custom "scenes" by dropping a sound icon onto the canvas. When playing, a circle moves around the screen randomly — like a screensaver might — and the sounds represented by the icons are played, based on the proximity of the circle to each icon... so if the circle is near two sounds, both sounds will be played. The sounds will become louder as the circle approaches and quieter as the circle passes. Neat stuff, great interface. She downloads it.

I even sent her a simple soundscape I made from just two elements, so she could see how the circle moves across and how the sounds respond. It looked like this:

About ten minutes later she presents me with her first custom soundscape; using audio from a TikTok video of an older woman noisily filling her pants, she covered — COVERED — the entire canvas with only that sound, effectively creating a perpetual pants disaster.

This is the same kid who, at 6, promptly used her new iPad to record a video of her aiming one super long booger right at the camera lens.

Technology per se is not the answer.



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2019.09.22Living with Tourette's: A Father's Perspective

It was a Sunday night, much like this one, about a year ago. Kiddo alights from the shower with what we now know was her first verbal and physical tics. She was making a weird sound with her mouth over and over again, and her head kept jerking to the side. She told us she was scared, because she couldn't control either of these.

It took us about four months for her to finally see a specialist, and to get a diagnosis. With the help of some well-timed video footage on our phones, kiddo received the diagnosis of Tourette's Syndrome. The recording made for an open-and-shut case in the eyes of the professional: Kiddo had "the trifecta" of behaviors that made her diagnosis a lock.

From the moment the school received the diagnosis through her last day of classes last year, the school was amazing to her. They even had a specialist speak to all of her classes — teachers and kids together — about what Tourette's Syndrome is and what it is not. When her symptoms elevated back in the spring, the specialist told us that the escalation was normal for that time of year.

Over the summer, her symptoms relaxed significantly: the stressors that were present during school life were absent over the break. But we did have one very uncomfortable event: she was actually institutionalized for a week, simply to execute a swift change of medication in a controlled environment. It was a hard week for us all — our poor kid was placed among kids who were drug addicts and suicide risks. It seemed a bit like going to the city jail to sleep off a bender and waking up among hardened criminals in prison. She was forced to do group therapy for several hours each day, and was horrified by the things the other kids shared — one kid even sharing that he had attempted to hang himself, but the ceiling didn't support his weight; so he tried to slash his arm, but ended up missing every vein. For her part, kiddo was embarrassed to have to say that she was only there for a change in her Tourette's medication.

But school is back in session and kiddo has upped her tic game (despite the medication change). She's not been attending classes for the past two weeks because her verbal tics force her to say awful things — things she's absolutely mortified about; things bad enough that the school doesn't want her around other kids. Tonight, on the eve of week three, she seems to be exchanging "the 'N' word" for something similarly vulgar, but without the racial element. I'm actually crossing my fingers that she'll go to class tomorrow. Sure, lots of kids are going to think she's spoiling for a fight, but at least they won't brand her a racist.

Verbal Tics

Verbal tics can come from absolutely anything with which she comes in contact. Internet content and conversations overheard are two major sources. She could hear something once and it'll stick around in her subconscious mind and get repeated as a verbal tic for weeks thereafter (she repeated the name "Kevin" for about three weeks earlier this year). Content she consumes often, such as clips from Vine or TikTok she can watch over and over again and may not develop into a verbal tic.

Physical Tics

Physical tics are a harder nut to crack. These are involuntary movements that can involve any part of the body. Last spring and again this fall, she won't have eaten lunch because she either can't physically hold a utensil to consume it, can't hold the food to feed herself, or tics in her arms throw the food. It's sort of like putting a baby in a high chair; you simply don't know how much food will go in the face, on the face, or on the wall or floor.

Although the tics most commonly force her to close her hands, others have presented in recent weeks. She's having trouble walking at times now, because the tics force her to kick, sort of like erratic goose-stepping. She's also experiencing tics involving her eyes, where she'll just sort of stop all other physical activity and her eyes will dart about for a few seconds. She claims she can't see when this happens, and she loses at least speech when it happens. She can hear and respond using her hands when it happens (say, tapping on the table) while one of these ocular tics is happening.

"Mental Tics"

A side effect of one of the medications she was on was producing uncomfortable thoughts. Getting her off of that medication was the reason she was in the hospital for a week. It was through that experience we learned about the role Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder has in the syndrome.

Obsessive/Compulsive Disorder

Part of what puts the "Syndrome" in the name of the disorder is that Tourette's is comprised of multiple factors. Among them, in kiddo's case, is OCD. So far, OCD is presented most commonly in the state of her bedroom, but it has also surfaced in the form of persisting certain thoughts.

Persistence

If I have something bad enter my day — like something I did to another person, or something someone did to upset me — I'll keep thinking about it. I'll mentally "grind" on it for a while, sometimes at the expense of sleep. This is something I understand about my personality.

Kiddo experiences this too, as a function of the compulsion aspect of OCD. In her case, she wouldn't be able to rid herself of some unpleasant thought. We learned these ugly thoughts were a function of her previous medication, and that the OCD was continually serving them up to her.

Cleanliness

I've a dear friend who is afflicted with OCD in a way that his environment must be maintained in a specific state of tidiness. The dress shirts in his closet are arranged in color order. The items on his desk have a specific placement. His world must be maintained in an orderly way. He has a huge heart and I love him dearly. As a layperson, I'd say his OCD is acute.

Kiddo's OCD is different; sadly, her compulsion is not toward cleanliness. Personally, I can't deal with clutter and crap. Maybe that's the military training in me. Kiddo's compulsion is in keeping things that are obviously trash. Example: for a while, before we knew about her Tourette's, kiddo wore breathing strips to bed. Now, these strips open much like latex bandages do: the product is sandwiched between two strips of paper. The paper is peeled apart to reveal the sterile strip. I would walk into her room and be apalled at the papers for these strips. They were everywhere — on the floor, on her dresser, on her bedside table. She knew these were trash, but something -- she didn't know what — something was preventing her from throwing them away. She didn't necessarily see these papers as valuable — she knew they were trash. But she couldn't close the loop on throwing them out. We now know that an element of compulsion was preventing her from throwing them away.

This compulsion extends to other rooms in the house. I'm constantly tidying up after her — shoes in the living room; detritus from lunch left in the dining room. I believe she is doing the best she can with these — I've seen her clear her place, rinse off the dish and silverware, and put them in the dishwasher. And it's amazing when that happens. But her compulsion prevents her from turning that moment of beauty and light into a wonderful habit.

Impact on Parenting

You know, this parenting thing doesn't come easily. When I started, the only reference I had was how my dad parented with me. I distinctly recall when kiddo was 4 we would put her to bed and she's sit there and talk for another hour. How would my dad handle this? He'd tell us to be quiet once or twice, then he'd get angry. So, I did the same. That's when I began to learn that kiddo would not respond the way we did. We were quiet. Kiddo got upset. My "What Would Dad Do?" reaction would just make things worse. Sometimes, way worse. I needed to figure this stuff out using a different tack.

I've had the pleasure of coparenting her for close to ten years now. Today, she's a teenager. In every sense of the word.

I read some time ago that children are rather slow to develop a sense for things outside of themselves, and to learn about how their actions impact the people and things around them. Those concepts don't really come into focus until their high school years. I also read that kids in middle and high school actually require more sleep than what we'd consider a normal 8 hours, because their bodies are growing and changing. The education system is actually planning or making changes to their model in response.

As a dad, it makes sense to adapt my model, too. Sleep is encouraged generally. But the Tourette's affliction makes sleep an even more precious commodity, because she'll often experience physical tics through the night. So when she sleeps soundly, I want to keep her sleeping soundly for as long as possible. Doesn't matter what time of day it is.

But I struggle with these a bit, because I really don't know how much of her habits is compulsion, and how much is a function of the process of maturity. Maybe the "why" doesn't matter all that much.

Kiddo's Tourette's Syndrome has made me a more compassionate man, because now I understand some things.

So now I understand why she can't keep her room straight. She's not a slob. She has an affliction. It doesn't anger me anymore like it used to. Now I accept it because I understand it's something she can't yet control.

Now I understand why she doesn't normally clear her place at the table, or why she leaves her stuff everywhere. She can't pick it all up yet. She has moments, but those are lovely surprises. Again, I don't get upset about it. I'm just thankful for the times she does it. I know she's trying, and that means a lot to me. (Besides, fighting the daily battle of keeping the place picked up keeps me moving at least once an hour, and that keeps my Apple Watch from barking at me. I'm on a Move Streak of 469 days.)

If we're out to dinner and her hands close up, I will feed her, and I'll explain our situation to a manager in case she feels she may have a bad attack.

If her arm shoots up and she exposes her middle finger (a common physical tic for her, I'm afraid), I'll put mine up right with it and cover her hand.

I'll do everything I possibly can to make her feel more comfortable where we are. I tell her, "Nobody knows us here," and for the most part, that's true. I won't hesitate to leave my comfort zone to make her feel better, if that's what's needed.

 

But the whole truth is I love that little girl more than anything else in the world. She's already had an example of an unresponsive parent; she needs to see what parents who love and cherish her and each other looks and feels like. Her affliction scares her to the point where sometimes she just does not want to be alone. I can't imagine that. I can't imagine having to go to bed wearing kids' Hulk gloves and a fucking boxing helmet so maybe my face won't be all bruised up the next morning from hitting myself. She knows what that is. I can't imagine having to spend a week in a mental ward with kids who share their pain about drug addiction and wanting to kill themselves. She's been there and done that. She didn't ask for any of this. So any way I can make any of it easier for her, I'll all in. And I couldn't be prouder of her nor happier to do it.



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2019.08.18UPDATE: Family Update: Downward Dog

August 18, 2018

Papa passed quite quickly in May. And I say "quite quickly" in relation to a weekend as opposed to the many years of his full life. The lowlights of his disease were that he was on a relatively low-sloped decline until he experienced a trauma — he fell and broke his collar bone -- which accelerated its progress dramatically. Over the next few months, words, around which he had modeled his life, would increasingly flee until he was saying few if any actual words at all. Dementia was for him a cruel and sinister irony.

Fast-forward to June. The dust has begun to settle for Yaya, who has determined she will stay in the house but look for opportunities to move to a smaller place in town. Kiddo has completed a very successful year in middle school. Bartlett, our older dog, has been slowing over the past couple of months; it's become obvious his hearing is significantly diminished, and his gait has slowed, but he still likes to romp and play with his kitties now and again. Laurel and I are preparing to move the family.

By early July, we're in at the new house. The cats came in the first trip in my small car; the dogs came in the second in the larger SUV. Laurel and I had been talking quite a bit about countermeasures for keeping the dogs from falling into the pool, but we first wanted to see how well they'd do with all of us outside with them on their first visit to the back yard.

The yard is mostly pool. The back door, at the north side of the yard, exits onto a patio which leads directly to the steps down into the kidney bean-shaped pool after about 20 feet. The pool was obviously made for relaxation or very gentle exercise; its maybe 5' deep at most. The absence of any sort of barrier between patio/yard and pool strongly suggests children were not part of the install equation. What grass there is is on the south side of the yard. Plenty there for small animals; one just has to guide them along the walkway between the house and the pool to get to it.

As I said, I've spent a few cycles on how to ensure the dogs' safety, with inputs from both Laurel and kiddo. But then the big moment arrived, when we could watch them in the yard for the first time and determine whether they — chiefly, Bartlett — could navigate the shoreline on his own.

We hadn't been outside for 30 seconds. I had only walked out a few feet — far enough to deposit my towel before going into the water — when I turned to see Bartlett standing at the bottom of the pool. He was out of the house for SECONDS and walked straight off the deck into the water. We viewed this as a prime indication of how poor his eyesight has become — and wouldn't have believed it without this event.

I started this post talking about Papa for a reason. And here it is: I find there is stunning similarity between Papa's trajectory and Bartlett's. To be clear, I am certain Bartlett suffered from, essentially, dementia. Like Papa, Bartlett was on a slow decline until a trauma. For Bartlett, it was falling into the pool.

He was underwater for perhaps five seconds. Kiddo and Laurel were pulling him up within three. By the fifth second he was in our arms and being carried to the deck. We watched him pretty closely for a day — he slept very, very soundly that first night. The following day he seemed a little slow. But by the end of two weeks, much about him had changed. His gait had become stiff and extremely slow. His steps were uncertain. He would stare at walls. He would yelp when touched from a direction he couldn't see. We'd consulted a local veterinarian who prescribed some medication to make him hungry again, and Laurel cooked some nice food for him to eat. But through the second week it was clear it wasn't having enough of an effect.

Laurel and I spent the past few nights wondering if he would wake the next day. I made the call to the vet's office on Friday. We were slated to put him to sleep at noon the following day (today).

This morning we saw even more evidence that we were doing the right thing: a liquid mess in the back yard which suggested stomach problems, and, as we walked him into the vet's office, urine that was alarmingly dark. Our boy was shutting down, and he knew it. When Laurel found him this morning, he was asleep in a corner of her office — an unusual place for him. Laurel interpreted it as him going to a remote place to die.

Our new vet was beautiful. She had absolutely the right words for us; she knew we were grieving. It's... it's difficult to meet somebody when you've been "ugly crying." Laurel and I spent probably twenty minutes on the floor with our boy — the first ten just laying with him and petting him; the second ten, doing the same, but lulling him to sleep after receiving the sedative. The doctor even kissed her palm and placed it on his head. She could tell were were both absolutely devastated at having to bring him in, and she made me feel like her heart really, really went out to us.

I don't know if the other animals have figured it out yet. The younger dog watched me completely dissolve into tears over Bartlett minutes before we left with him. But because Bartlett had been so sedentary over the past few days, I don't know if the pup (I say "pup," but he's like seven years old now) or the cats have done the math because he hadn't been moving from room to room as do the rest.

I'm particularly curious about how the pup will adjust. Pup isn't like Bartlett; he's not got the sense about him to be "one of the family." He's a dog through and through, nothing more. That doesn't mean Laurel doesn't love him to pieces -— she absolutely does. He just doesn't have that je ne se quois that transcends; that -ness that tells one very clearly he's some Gestalthund. What pup usually IS, though, is jealous: he got so unbelievably mad whenever we would separate Bartlett from him. It gave me the idea that he was certain Bartlett was getting to do something fun and he was stuck not getting to do whatever amazing thing Bartlett could. To be honest, he was right about that some of the time. Bartlett, for his part, absolutely hated being separated from his little buddy. He would yowl inconsolably when pup was gone for vet appointments and the like.

I hope Spirit Bartlett will visit him. Pup is such a nervous little dog.

 

UPDATE: Pup finally got the memo. It's taken a few weeks. Last week we had an awful lot of rain (for this area, anyway), and some thunder-bumpers were part of the package. We have a good product called Thunder Shirts to help keep them calm despite the commotion outside (they're good for fireworks, too!). Anyway, the Thunder Shirts' design is a little complicated, and it's not so easy to tell which shirt goes onto which dog. As the storm was approaching, Laurel placed one of the shirts onto pup, and figured out pretty quickly it was the wrong one (by size) — but pup had already taken a big sniff of it, and the math was well underway. He sniffed at the fabric some more, and Laurel could see him recognize Bartlett's scent, then remember him, remember he was ill, and realize he's been gone for a little while. Pup became sad and sort of moped around the house for the day.

Pup has had a behavior late in Bartlett's days of hiding treats. Laurel would give them each a biscuit; Bartlett would drop it on the floor and forget about it, so Pup would later pick it up and eat it, or, as time went on, he'd hide it someplace where he knew Bartlett couldn't get at it. The hiding behavior became noticeable after we'd moved and Bartlett was in steep decline. Kiddo and I would find dog bones (the biscuits) under our pillows at night. Probably the best "hiding" job I saw was when he'd turned one of Laurel's flip-flops onto its side by a wall, and placed the biscuit behind it.

Since pup's epiphany last week, the hiding has stopped. We'd figured he was doing it in response to Bartlett's assertion of dominance through food control. Here we've at least circumstantial evidence to suggest that was the case.

Finally, I think other behaviors have changed in Bartlett's absence, and for the better. I sort of wonder if pup is actually happier without Bartlett, insofar as he no longer has to compete for attention; there's no reason for jealousy, much like there's no reason to hide biscuits. I know pup could display some amazing jealousy where Bartlett was concerned; he would bark his "mad bark" whenever Bartlett was allowed out front of the house and he was put in the back yard. With those days behind him now, I hope pup will feel happier and become a better friend to us all.

August 18, 2019 - One Year Later

I wanted to offer a few words one year on from the previous post on this topic.

Bartlett visits us from time to time. Kiddo senses his presence occasionally, as she does with Papa. Yaya actually saw Papa earlier this week — clearly enough to note that he stood in the doorway wearing a blue shirt. But Bartlett checks in on us from time to time. I still miss him terribly.

Pup has matured very well over the past year. To the best of my knowledge, he has stopped hiding treats — there's no threat. The cats love him and they don't care one bit about his bones. Today, his favorite things are watching me eat and being where we are — he gives me little kisses on my ear when I'm in the water at the edge of the pool, because that's about the only time we are eye-to-eye. For as much of a pain in the ass as he was when he was younger, he's really grown into being a great little dog.

I think we all also recognize that pup wouldn't play well with another dog in the home. I'm pretty sure he'd be fine with another kitten at some point, but not a dog.



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2019.08.18On Kiddo's Relationships

I share my daughter with another dad. I moved my family to Texas over a year ago. Before moving, the other dad essentially sued my wife for custody of kiddo. It was a waste of resources — both his and ours. Had he simply talked with my wife instead of throwing his laywer at us, he likely would have arrived at a very similar arrangement we currently have. Our arrangement essentially involves her traveling up to see him over long weekends, some holidays, and over the majority of the summer.

Kiddo's extended family is comprised of her dad, his wife, and her teenage son. The boy hasn't had an easy life — he lost his father at a young age, and has — or had — nothing but resentment for his mom's new husband.

This summer, kiddo had a few hiccups and we had to end her vacay early so she could have some medication issues worked out. Since then, kiddo's relationship with her extended family has been strained. She has come to feel that his stepson takes precedent over her; kiddo feels like a second- class citizen when she visits.

Distance hasn't made the heart grow fonder. Since school has started, she has hung up on him on a few calls.

My feelings aside, I can tell that kiddo is looking for closeness right now. She needs reassurance that her place is solid and her (other) family dynamic is strong. So I've been working extra hard to provide that for her.

Although I have no standing in the matter, I feel -— having been a child of divorce too -— that she shouldn't have to make the trip to see him if she doesn't want to. I don't dare actually suggest it, though.



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2019.08.17Mom is Slipping

Image of an elderly woman and her caretaker. Image credit: GIS


I'm losing my mother. Little bit by little bit, call by call. I guess I've suspected this for a little while, but today's call was different.

Just different enough, perhaps, to make it more than perceptible — different enough to suggest alarm.

A couple of weeks ago she called me to tell me how proud she was that she was able to frustrate a scam artist. She was so happy that she managed to challenge him enough into finally hanging up.

Today I saw the bill — she may not have fallen for his fake Publisher's Clearinghouse pitch, but she managed to rack up a $140 bill for the call: She doesn't understand that on mobile phones both parties pay to talk; who called whom is meaningless.

When I called her today, I told her about the bill, but I'm not certain she understood what I was saying. I wasn't going to be crass and tell her that she'd blown our budget; she may be 80, but she deserves to be treated with respect. I made my point in a way that approached the boundary but not so subtly that anyone might miss it. She didn't appear to pick it up. She didn't react in a way that suggested she understood me. Arguably, she might have just been hoping the issue would fall to the riverbed of an otherwise flowing conversation, so she might reflect on it later; but I'm uncertain.

I don't want to treat her like a child. Yes, she's 80, and she never worked to understand the technologies that became so common over the past twenty or thirty years: computers and cell phones and Wi-Fi and all remain unexplored. (I found myself explaining yet again the difference between the mobile phone and its service, and what between them is paid for and what is paid as a monthly bill.) Twenty years ago her eyes would just glaze over as I'd try for the umpteenth time to explain what a virus scan was and how to do it.

So my current countermeasure is to enable some protection from my service provider. The good news there is I won't have to install anything on her phone — it's done through the network. That's a relief.

I guess I'll continue to monitor our conversations in the coming weeks, but today made me feel like I have to explain more and work harder to get points across. I'm hoping she was just mystified by the technology.

During the call she noted that it's hard for her to get around to places outside of her retirement home — noting that loading her walker into a car is inconvenient. Additionally, she mentioned on the call that she knows she's living in a place where people come to die.

I admit I wasn't prepared to respond.



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2019.06.29A Turn of Good Luck

We had quite a day here yesterday.

Among the good news: Our kiddo is getting her medications sorted out; our "other kiddo" got married; and I got a job offer. About the only way it could have been better — realistically better, I mean — would have been if Laurel's promotion had finally come through.

Here are some details:

  • Last school year, kiddo finally got a diagnosis of some peculiar behavior she'd been having since a couple of months after the start of the school year. That diagnosis is not the kind of thing a parent wants to hear, but receiving it is worth celebrating when your kid is suffering, because it unlocks all kinds of assistance for your child. Anyway, a few months ago, the specialist increased her dosage on a particular medication, and, as it turns out, kiddo started having some pretty unsavory thoughts starting at about that time. That kind of behavior is apparently a known side effect of this specific medication. So she has been admitted to a behavioral hospital for analysis and observation — but the biggest benefit of admitting her is that a new medicinal regimen can be started immediately. Without that, it could have taken weeks to get things switched around. We are confident she is getting put on the right track, and, at this point in the summer, it should set us up for a greatly improved school year. *

  • Laurel and I have a sort of quasi-daughter. She and Laurel met several years ago and they just kind of hit it off. When she learned that the girl needed help, she offered to let her live in our home for a short time. And in that time, she really turned her life around. So I couldn't be prouder to have learned that she got married yesterday!

  • I have been doing contract work since last September. I thought I was on a good trajectory for converting to FTE, but my new director has other plans. This is a big problem for me, because company policy specifies I cannot contract with them for more than a year at a time without a significant break in service (like 90 days) — and nobody can afford to leave a job, not work for 3 months, and then return. Well, nobody I know. So I've been quietly in the market since that conversation. Yesterday one of the companies I've been speaking with notified me of their intent to offer me a position, and I'm elated. Details have yet to be discussed, but more on this will follow if I accept the offer.

  • And speaking of jobs and offers, Laurel is a very good candidate for a more senior position with her employer. She's been through three rounds of interviews, and apparently there's another to come. As I understand it, she'll be one of three in the entire company doing this kind of work; seems to me they want to be sure they get this right. So while we didn't hear anything about it yesterday, I'm hopeful good news will reach her ears in the coming days.



*Now, I wrote all of that stuff about kiddo before we went to visit her yesterday. Holy Hell. It felt like we were visiting kiddo in jail — about all that was missing were orange uniforms on the kids and bars on the doors. We were restricted from bringing ANYTHING in with us to visit her — no mobile phones, not even sunglasses. Most of the patients are there for either drug overdoses or attempted suicides — I suspect their daily regimen is geared toward these — so they're all in group therapy sessions most of the day. Kiddo described one boy who said he tried to hang himself, but whatever he'd tied the rope to on the ceiling broke; so he tried to slash his arms, but he missed every vein. So in addition to feeling out of sorts with the structured environment and all the strangers, she doesn't really have anything in common with the other patients, either. She hates group therapy because she's forced to talk about herself and her feelings and all, and she's really uncomfortable with that. I tried to offer what comfort I could by reminding her that she's never going to see any of these people again, so she really could "let it all out" — get everything off of her chest she's been holding in; it's an opportunity to spill to complete strangers she'll never see again. We sat with her for an uncomfortable hour. And we'll do it again today. Hopefully she'll have had more sleep.



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2019.05.16Ten Years After Laurel's Cancer Diagnosis

10 YEARS CANCER FREE

Laurel was diagnosed with skin cancer ten years ago today.

She has told me it was the event that made some very important decisions for her.

Every year, I mark the anniversary of her diagnosis, and the anniversary of the day she got the news that she was cancer free.

I usually commemorate these occasions with flowers — she loves flowers. This year, for the tenth anniversary of her cancer diagnosis, I did something very special.

A couple of years ago, in commemoration of her cancer scare, she selected several flowers that have significance for her and asked her mother, an artist, to draw them for her. She then took that finished drawing to a highly talented tattoo artist, and had it committed to her skin. Her mother took it a little further and painted the flowers as a watercolor, which I had framed.

So this year, I took a digital photo of the watercolor and sent it to a local flower shop (I later used it to make the images you see here). Today I expect that shop to deliver a replica of that piece as a floral arrangement. I'm very curious to know if she'll realize it. My surmise is that she'll see customary bright flowers, but I don't know if she'll catch on.

Every year when I order flowers for these occasions I end up somewhere between misty and completely bawling to the poor clerk taking my call. Not this year: This year, I saved it until I typed this.



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2019.03.01UPDATE: The Day (Hasn't Yet) Arrived

Photo of a shark jumping out of the water

Well, it's happened. I'd heard nasty rumors that kiddo had develped hair in her pits, which meant we were on a six month clock for... this.

Kiddo dutifully reported, with a measure of pride, that she'd had some spotting yesterday. And just like that, Operation Shark Week went into effect. She went to school today with a few extra items in her backpack.

I'm not having an easy time with the news. For as much of a hypochondriac as she has been, I fear she'll become a "regular" in the school nurse's office again (she described the new nurse this year as an 'A-hole,' by the way).

I can't imagine the amount of Zoloft the middle school nurse must be taking.

 

 

UPDATE:

I saw this post from two years ago in This Week in halfgk History and couldn't resist an update. As it turned out, it hadn't begun. Actually, it *still* hasn't begun.

She's had a little spotting from time to time, but Aunt Flow has yet to visit.

She's 13 now, and halfway through her 7th grade year. It's gotta be coming soon, right?

I wonder if medications she's taking are affecting this?



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2019.02.10Family Update: Laurel and the Brain Aneurysm, One Year On

When I opened Facebook yesterday morning I didn't expect to be greeted by a photo I took of a Jacksonville restaurant. It was the first place we visited when Laurel felt up to walking around after her surgery to clip a brain aneurysm.

We were staying in an economy hotel about two miles from the hospital. We lived in a room on the third floor for three weeks — buying groceries every few days to cram into the tiny refrigerator or sit on the small countertop above it. She slept so much those first few days, but gradually her strength returned, and we spent some time together walking the beach and dining at local places. In that three weeks she showed me how brave she really is.

Today Laurel is every bit as bright and beautiful as ever. Yesterday she got a new tattoo in memory of her late dad; she now has a tattoo for each member of her family. Last night we all got pedicures — five of us — our family plus two very good friends of Laurel's, one of whom flew in from out of town. She sat in the chair and just beamed, she was so, so happy.



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2019.01.20First-Time Teening

Image of a crowded shopping mall. Image credit: GIS

Today, I hit a parenting first.

I gave our newly-minted teen permission to join a couple of friends at a mall.

I recognized the friends' names, but I still had questions, and you can believe I asked them. I really tried not to make it too taxing on kiddo -- I still recall the millions of questions I got from my mother every time I wanted to do things. Happily, we've enjoyed some technological revelations since then — like mobile phones and GPS.

Perhaps the biggest motivator for me was having answers to the questions my absent wife might ask. I damn sure was not going to get mama angry at me for letting her go without copious detail backing me up. I copied down as much info as I could about the kid whose parents were driving — well, I got as far as the phone number when the kid texted that they were out front.

Coat on. Shoes on. Not just kiddo — ME TOO. I went out to the car to say hello and thank the dad for shouldering the responsibility. Then when I got inside I scribbled down his name and a description of the car.

I figure that as these trips become more common, and the parents of her circle of friends become known, I won't have to go to measures like these. But I'm a first-timer here. A first-timer with a brand new teen in a metroplex of 8 million. In the town where I grew up, we had two malls — one was popular and one wasn't. Not with kids, anyway. That mall was maybe three or four miles from our house, an easy drive. One story, with department stores on either end. This place? The mall has valet parking, and its shops aren't exactly Spencer Gifts and Things Remembered — they're more like... places I can't pronounce with items I can't afford.

I had even written down what kiddo was wearing. I was not messing around. I helped her organize what to bring, and wrote that down, too.

When mommy radioed in from her shopping trip, I gave her the scoop, and probably volunteered more information than I should have. Turned out she and her girlfriend were headed to the same place. I texted her what kiddo had on, and even gave her the mobile number of the friend she was with.

I'm sure I probably recorded way too much metadata in preparation for the event. But, in my defense, she was about to leave in a car with people I haven't met for a giant mall I don't know well and am not sure I could even get to. I figure spending some ink and paper and asking a question or two is a small price. I made certain though that I didn't give her the grilling I used to get.

Besides... *Opens Find My Friends app on phone*... there's no need.



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2018.11.22UPDATE: On Giving Thanks at Thanksgiving

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

First, I need to get something off of my chest: I have never been one for the "let's go around the table and say what we're thankful for" kind of thing at Thanksgiving, because I feel its an act of performance.

Being thankful — and the things, people, events that people are thankful for — should be a private matter. Making one list these items only invites trouble, because "obligations" tend to intrude. Thoughts like, "I'd better say I'm thankful that lush Uncle Jerry and tightwad Aunt Margaret made the trip, because I'm seated right across from them."

I like my thankfulness unrehearsed and uncoerced. I don't want social pressure to inform what I should or shouldn't say. Every time I've been made to do this, I've tried to assemble my words as the people before me were taking their turns. That's what makes this such an awful exercise.

I've spent the last few months not feeling very thankful. I lost a job that I really loved; I lost a house and a neighborhood I really loved. Selling the house ate through all of the savings I had left, and now I have a massive tax bill because of the penalties. I was without work for two months. All of this shattered my confidence and made me feel "less than," despite none of it being my fault. My exercise and diet routine was shot completely to bits — through a combination of change in routine, losing my motivation, and stress. No, I'm not thankful for any of that. At least, not yet.

Here's what I am thankful for: Through all of that amazing awfulness, my wife and daughter and their love have kept my spirits fairly buoyant, along with the friendship of others. I'm thankful for a new employer who was willing to work with me to help me get back on my feet, and I've been showing them a wealth of gratitude. I'm thankful I was able to save my mother in law's life — that's hard for me to write — and I'm thankful we're all getting along in this tiny house. I'm thankful our daughter is doing so well in school, and of how proud she makes me. I'm thankful for new friendships in unlikely places, and new pursuits. I'm thankful I can cook for my family and still talk to my mother. I'm thankful mom sold her place and moved into a care facility. I'm thankful for guidance and for new experiences. No, my life is not what it was, but I feel like I'm on the mend — and I'm very thankful for that.

I'm saying that, even in hard times, we can probably find things to be thankful for. There's a lot about my life that has absolutely had me down over the past couple of months. Someone once said, "it's not how many times you get knocked down that counts. It's how many times you get back up." These days, it's not hard to find somebody who has things worse than you do. That exercise in itself is a measure of thankfulness.

A year ago this week, the neighborhood got together and spent a couple of hours packing boxes and bags of food for people in need in our community. I need to make time to do that more often. Because it's one thing to be thankful for the blessings in your life. But to BE a blessing in someone else's life is another thing entirely.

2018 UPDATE:

I read this post today, a year on. And I wanted to share my thoughts. 2017 was a very difficult year. 2018 "ain't been no picnic" either: Papa passed away in April; I moved the family down to Texas for a job in the summer — I was $15K in the hole from moving expenses and was making my first payment on a new mortgage when that company started slashing jobs right and left, leaving me with a tremendous sense of guilt for uprooting us all and putting us in this mess. It was a shame I carried semiprivately for a while — despite picking up a contracting job nearly right away. Despite all of this, I'm so very thankful for the love and encouragement of my family to get me through.

We're lonely there - on its surface, it seems it would be difficult in a city of eight million. I work among a hundreds of contractors from overseas who prefer their native language over English at least. I've been working there for two months and only one man among them has bothered to acknowledge me enough for us to exchange pleasantries. (I have sort of made friends with the barista downstairs, though.) Laurel has managed to coerce a coworker to move up from Austin — she's so happy to have a friend in town now. We're back "home" for the holiday week, and I've been reminded of numerous connections we simply don't have where we live now. Facebook isn't the same as being in the same room and laughing your faces off with each other.

So right now, we have each other. And I don't think it's a stretch to say that we're both so grateful for that. Without love, all of this would be pointless.



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2018.09.23On the Texas Life

I've decided to split out content related to our Texas move into it's own web form, and keep the family life content just focused on family events (funny things the kid says and so on).

The new Texas Life web form has content related to the move, the new house, settling in, and so forth. Please join us there for all things Texas... y'all.



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2018.09.08Rain, Rain, GO AWAY

For the third time this week, I'm actually pumping water out of my pool — somewhat unconventionally — because the rain has filled it to its maximum height.

The National Weather Service keeps extending their river flood warnings because the rain won't move out of the area.

We totally need the water, but this is too much, I'm afraid. We're having to add water to our pool weekly — sometimes more than that — during the hot summer weather. But really. Having to dump water OUT of it three times in a week??



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2018.09.04Family Update: Kiddo Got a Big Ol' Boot

One of my coworkers, who is very ways in the ways of volleyball, called it a "rite of passage."

Got a call from the school nurse this morning. This wasn't kiddo's previous "frequent flyer" kind of behavior: she rolled her ankle during this morning's practice.

Two hours and fifty bucks later, she's sporting a shiny new boot — complete with air bladders to improve its fit. X-ray imagery shows no break, just a pretty fair sprain. Doc says she'll be showing off her new footwear (single) for the next couple of weeks.



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2018.08.18UPDATE: Family Update: Downward Dog

Papa passed quite quickly in May. And I say "quite quickly" in relation to a weekend as opposed to the many years of his full life. The lowlights of his disease were that he was on a relatively low-sloped decline until he experienced a trauma — he fell and broke his collar bone -- which accelerated its progress dramatically. Over the next few months, words, around which he had modeled his life, would increasingly flee until he was saying few if any actual words at all. Dementia was for him a cruel and sinister irony.

Fast-forward to June. The dust has begun to settle for Yaya, who has determined she will stay in the house but look for opportunities to move to a smaller place in town. Kiddo has completed a very successful year in middle school. Bartlett, our older dog, has been slowing over the past couple of months; it's become obvious his hearing is significantly diminished, and his gait has slowed, but he still likes to romp and play with his kitties now and again. Laurel and I are preparing to move the family.

By early July, we're in at the new house. The cats came in the first trip in my small car; the dogs came in the second in the larger SUV. Laurel and I had been talking quite a bit about countermeasures for keeping the dogs from falling into the pool, but we first wanted to see how well they'd do with all of us outside with them on their first visit to the back yard.

The yard is mostly pool. The back door, at the north side of the yard, exits onto a patio which leads directly to the steps down into the kidney bean-shaped pool after about 20 feet. The pool was obviously made for relaxation or very gentle exercise; its maybe 5' deep at most. The absence of any sort of barrier between patio/yard and pool strongly suggests children were not part of the install equation. What grass there is is on the south side of the yard. Plenty there for small animals; one just has to guide them along the walkway between the house and the pool to get to it.

As I said, I've spent a few cycles on how to ensure the dogs' safety, with inputs from both Laurel and kiddo. But then the big moment arrived, when we could watch them in the yard for the first time and determine whether they — chiefly, Bartlett — could navigate the shoreline on his own.

We hadn't been outside for 30 seconds. I had only walked out a few feet — far enough to deposit my towel before going into the water — when I turned to see Bartlett standing at the bottom of the pool. He was out of the house for SECONDS and walked straight off the deck into the water. We viewed this as a prime indication of how poor his eyesight has become — and wouldn't have believed it without this event.

I started this post talking about Papa for a reason. And here it is: I find there is stunning similarity between Papa's trajectory and Bartlett's. To be clear, I am certain Bartlett suffered from, essentially, dementia. Like Papa, Bartlett was on a slow decline until a trauma. For Bartlett, it was falling into the pool.

He was underwater for perhaps five seconds. Kiddo and Laurel were pulling him up within three. By the fifth second he was in our arms and being carried to the deck. We watched him pretty closely for a day — he slept very, very soundly that first night. The following day he seemed a little slow. But by the end of two weeks, much about him had changed. His gait had become stiff and extremely slow. His steps were uncertain. He would stare at walls. He would yelp when touched from a direction he couldn't see. We'd consulted a local veterinarian who prescribed some medication to make him hungry again, and Laurel cooked some nice food for him to eat. But through the second week it was clear it wasn't having enough of an effect.

Laurel and I spent the past few nights wondering if he would wake the next day. I made the call to the vet's office on Friday. We were slated to put him to sleep at noon the following day (today).

This morning we saw even more evidence that we were doing the right thing: a liquid mess in the back yard which suggested stomach problems, and, as we walked him into the vet's office, urine that was alarmingly dark. Our boy was shutting down, and he knew it. When Laurel found him this morning, he was asleep in a corner of her office — an unusual place for him. Laurel interpreted it as him going to a remote place to die.

Our new vet was beautiful. She had absolutely the right words for us; she knew we were grieving. It's... it's difficult to meet somebody when you've been "ugly crying." Laurel and I spent probably twenty minutes on the floor with our boy — the first ten just laying with him and petting him; the second ten, doing the same, but lulling him to sleep after receiving the sedative. The doctor even kissed her palm and placed it on his head. She could tell were were both absolutely devastated at having to bring him in, and she made me feel like her heart really, really went out to us.

I don't know if the other animals have figured it out yet. The younger dog watched me completely dissolve into tears over Bartlett minutes before we left with him. But because Bartlett had been so sedentary over the past few days, I don't know if the pup (I say "pup," but he's like seven years old now) or the cats have done the math because he hadn't been moving from room to room as do the rest.

I'm particularly curious about how the pup will adjust. Pup isn't like Bartlett; he's not got the sense about him to be "one of the family." He's a dog through and through, nothing more. That doesn't mean Laurel doesn't love him to pieces -— she absolutely does. He just doesn't have that je ne se quois that transcends; that -ness that tells one very clearly he's some Gestalthund. What pup usually IS, though, is jealous: he got so unbelievably mad whenever we would separate Bartlett from him. It gave me the idea that he was certain Bartlett was getting to do something fun and he was stuck not getting to do whatever amazing thing Bartlett could. To be honest, he was right about that some of the time. Bartlett, for his part, absolutely hated being separated from his little buddy. He would yowl inconsolably when pup was gone for vet appointments and the like.

I hope Spirit Bartlett will visit him. Pup is such a nervous little dog.

 

UPDATE: Pup finally got the memo. It's taken a few weeks. Last week we had an awful lot of rain (for this area, anyway), and some thunder-bumpers were part of the package. We have a good product called Thunder Shirts to help keep them calm despite the commotion outside (they're good for fireworks, too!). Anyway, the Thunder Shirts' design is a little complicated, and it's not so easy to tell which shirt goes onto which dog. As the storm was approaching, Laurel placed one of the shirts onto pup, and figured out pretty quickly it was the wrong one (by size) — but pup had already taken a big sniff of it, and the math was well underway. He sniffed at the fabric some more, and Laurel could see him recognize Bartlett's scent, then remember him, remember he was ill, and realize he's been gone for a little while. Pup became sad and sort of moped around the house for the day.

Pup has had a behavior late in Bartlett's days of hiding treats. Laurel would give them each a biscuit; Bartlett would drop it on the floor and forget about it, so Pup would later pick it up and eat it, or, as time went on, he'd hide it someplace where he knew Bartlett couldn't get at it. The hiding behavior became noticeable after we'd moved and Bartlett was in steep decline. Kiddo and I would find dog bones (the biscuits) under our pillows at night. Probably the best "hiding" job I saw was when he'd turned one of Laurel's flip-flops onto its side by a wall, and placed the biscuit behind it.

Since pup's epiphany last week, the hiding has stopped. We'd figured he was doing it in response to Bartlett's assertion of dominance through food control. Here we've at least circumstantial evidence to suggest that was the case.

Finally, I think other behaviors have changed in Bartlett's absence, and for the better. I sort of wonder if pup is actually happier without Bartlett, insofar as he no longer has to compete for attention; there's no reason for jealousy, much like there's no reason to hide biscuits. I know pup could display some amazing jealousy where Bartlett was concerned; he would bark his "mad bark" whenever Bartlett was allowed out front of the house and he was put in the back yard. With those days behind him now, I hope pup will feel happier and become a better friend to us all.



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2018.07.28Family Update: Downward Dog

Papa passed quite quickly in May. And I say "quite quickly" in relation to a weekend as opposed to the many years of his full life. The lowlights of his disease were that he was on a relatively low-sloped decline until he experienced a trauma — he fell and broke his collar bone -- which accelerated its progress dramatically. Over the next few months, words, around which he had modeled his life, would increasingly flee until he was saying few if any actual words at all. Dementia was for him a cruel and sinister irony.

Fast-forward to June. The dust has begun to settle for Yaya, who has determined she will stay in the house but look for opportunities to move to a smaller place in town. Kiddo has completed a very successful year in middle school. Bartlett, our older dog, has been slowing over the past couple of months; it's become obvious his hearing is significantly diminished, and his gait has slowed, but he still likes to romp and play with his kitties now and again. Laurel and I are preparing to move the family.

By early July, we're in at the new house. The cats came in the first trip in my small car; the dogs came in the second in the larger SUV. Laurel and I had been talking quite a bit about countermeasures for keeping the dogs from falling into the pool, but we first wanted to see how well they'd do with all of us outside with them on their first visit to the back yard.

The yard is mostly pool. The back door, at the north side of the yard, exits onto a patio which leads directly to the steps down into the kidney bean-shaped pool after about 20 feet. The pool was obviously made for relaxation or very gentle exercise; its maybe 5' deep at most. The absence of any sort of barrier between patio/yard and pool strongly suggests children were not part of the install equation. What grass there is is on the south side of the yard. Plenty there for small animals; one just has to guide them along the walkway between the house and the pool to get to it.

As I said, I've spent a few cycles on how to ensure the dogs' safety, with inputs from both Laurel and kiddo. But then the big moment arrived, when we could watch them in the yard for the first time and determine whether they — chiefly, Bartlett — could navigate the shoreline on his own.

We hadn't been outside for 30 seconds. I had only walked out a few feet — far enough to deposit my towel before going into the water — when I turned to see Bartlett standing at the bottom of the pool. He was out of the house for SECONDS and walked straight off the deck into the water. We viewed this as a prime indication of how poor his eyesight has become — and wouldn't have believed it without this event.

I started this post talking about Papa for a reason. And here it is: I find there is stunning similarity between Papa's trajectory and Bartlett's. To be clear, I am certain Bartlett suffered from, essentially, dementia. Like Papa, Bartlett was on a slow decline until a trauma. For Bartlett, it was falling into the pool.

He was underwater for perhaps five seconds. Kiddo and Laurel were pulling him up within three. By the fifth second he was in our arms and being carried to the deck. We watched him pretty closely for a day — he slept very, very soundly that first night. The following day he seemed a little slow. But by the end of two weeks, much about him had changed. His gait had become stiff and extremely slow. His steps were uncertain. He would stare at walls. He would yelp when touched from a direction he couldn't see. We'd consulted a local veterinarian who prescribed some medication to make him hungry again, and Laurel cooked some nice food for him to eat. But through the second week it was clear it wasn't having enough of an effect.

Laurel and I spent the past few nights wondering if he would wake the next day. I made the call to the vet's office on Friday. We were slated to put him to sleep at noon the following day (today).

This morning we saw even more evidence that we were doing the right thing: a liquid mess in the back yard which suggested stomach problems, and, as we walked him into the vet's office, urine that was alarmingly dark. Our boy was shutting down, and he knew it. When Laurel found him this morning, he was asleep in a corner of her office — an unusual place for him. Laurel interpreted it as him going to a remote place to die.

Our new vet was beautiful. She had absolutely the right words for us; she knew we were grieving. It's... it's difficult to meet somebody when you've been "ugly crying." Laurel and I spent probably twenty minutes on the floor with our boy — the first ten just laying with him and petting him; the second ten, doing the same, but lulling him to sleep after receiving the sedative. The doctor even kissed her palm and placed it on his head. She could tell were were both absolutely devastated at having to bring him in, and she made me feel like her heart really, really went out to us.

I don't know if the other animals have figured it out yet. The younger dog watched me completely dissolve into tears over Bartlett minutes before we left with him. But because Bartlett had been so sedentary over the past few days, I don't know if the pup (I say "pup," but he's like seven years old now) or the cats have done the math because he hadn't been moving from room to room as do the rest.

I'm particularly curious about how the pup will adjust. Pup isn't like Bartlett; he's not got the sense about him to be "one of the family." He's a dog through and through, nothing more. That doesn't mean Laurel doesn't love him to pieces -— she absolutely does. He just doesn't have that je ne se quois that transcends; that -ness that tells one very clearly he's some Gestalthund. What pup usually IS, though, is jealous: he got so unbelievably mad whenever we would separate Bartlett from him. It gave me the idea that he was certain Bartlett was getting to do something fun and he was stuck not getting to do whatever amazing thing Bartlett could. To be honest, he was right about that some of the time. Bartlett, for his part, absolutely hated being separated from his little buddy. He would yowl inconsolably when pup was gone for vet appointments and the like.

I hope Spirit Bartlett will visit him. Pup is such a nervous little dog.



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2018.05.14Family Update

It's been an eventful few months, to say the least.

  • Papa: Papa passed a couple of weeks ago. The family has been reeling. It's one thing to know in your head that that one's time is short; but I find that knowledge doesn't really prepare one for the actual event. He passed with his family all around him, telling him it was okay to go.
  • Yaya: My heart breaks for her. Papa's now actually gone, not just apart. 51 years together. And here she is at 80, confronted by the loss of friends all around her (many are moving to care facilities or out of state to be closer to family for care) and by having to learn all sorts of things for herself that Papa always took care of — this, coupled with her physical condition, is why staying in the house isn't a good option. She knows this, but is reluctant to move out and move on. At least now, once the dust settles from Papa's passing, she'll get a firm sense of what she'll be able to afford — Papa's care prevented any sort of accuracy in forecasting.
  • Me: Six months ago we moved in with Yaya to prevent her from being alone over the winter (it wasn't the original plan). After a short contract with a company on the east coast, I've landed with a company in the south and will be moving my family down there in the short term.
  • Laurel: Her brain aneurysm was corrected in February, and is fully recovered from surgery. Last month, she completed her masters program, and now has an MSML — a Master of Science in Management and Leadership. I couldn't be more proud. She's excited about the move -- she has her father's way of being excited about new opportunities and new things to do, and takes the bumps along the way in stride.
  • Kiddo: Has powered through her freshman year of middle school and the end is in sight. She's excited about the move too.



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2018.02.17Family Update: Laurel and the Brain Aneurysm

Overview

Four years ago, Laurel was diagnosed with a stable, unruptured, fusiform brain aneurysm on her middle cerebral artery (MCA) in the area above her right ear.

Procedures for removing aneurisms in the MCA are performed by choking the aneurysm off with a microsurgical clipping technique, performed via craniotomy, while most others can be treated using a coiling technique which is performed using a minimallly invasive endovascular method. The methods are significant to us because Laurel's aneurysm, being located on the MCA, makes it a poor candidate for use of the endovascular method.

I'm going to be updating this article day-by-day. Please check back often!

January 28, 2018

We are preparing for a trip to Florida tomorrow. We're not visiting Disney World or even going on vacation. And we're not bringing kiddo with us. It's a getaway for two... to the Mayo Clinic.

The Mayo Clinic was Laurel's choice of medical practice for taking care of her aneurysm.

I think it's fair to say the discovery is what really pushed Laurel to have the vertical gastric sleeve surgery in 2016. The resulting weight loss resolved a number of problems that would have added certain risk to the procedure we're preparing for in the coming week.

For my part, I am working very hard to convince myself that we are in the place we're meant to be in right now. Faith in that notion ought to relieve me of the stress I'm feeling.

January 30, 2018

The Mayo Clinic in Jacksonville is comrpised of three interconnected buildings. One can walk from one building into another and never really know one had changed buildings. The Cannaday and Davis buildings contain clinics and administrivial functions, and they are on opposite sides of the Mayo Hospital building.

We arrived in Florida on Monday evening, and on spent most of Tuesday moving from clinic to clinic as directed, often repeating information we'd told the previous clinician. We started in the Cannaday building, where we met Laurel's physician and talked strategy.

We also found at the time that Mayo never received the image files from our local hospital. This, in part, is what put us on track to schedule a diagnostic cerebral angiogram.

The angiogram is essentially comprised of a probe, which gets inserted into the body, a dye, which gets injected into the body, and a large machine which captures images from the probe's point of view. At least, that's how I understand it. The angiogram was itself a surgical procedure, albeit a minor one.

UPDATE:
All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, and Jill a dull girl. We're in Florida for goodness sakes. We're looking to spend at least a little time in the sun. So earlier in the day we got a recommendation for a seafood place, and tonight we visited. I give you the Safe Harbor Seafood Company, right on the water.

Photo of the 
      enclosed deck at the Safe Harbor Seafood Company

The blackened Dolphin and blackened Trigger were outstanding. The conch fritters were a trip back in time for me.

January 31, 2018

We reported to the Mayo Hospital at 6 AM on Tuesday morning and, due to unforseen circumstances, didn't actually have the procedure until close to noon. The angiogram took about an hour and a half. It still ended up being a very long day.

We spent the evening just laying around watching TV and ordering in. We ordered from an American gastro pub and the food was awesome. Laurel got caught up on all the grease and carbs she'd been missing, and we slept pretty well.

Perhaps part of the reason we slept so well was the phone call we received from the neurosurgeon's nurse — we were able to schedule the craniotomy for next Monday.

February 1, 2018

Today is Wednesday. We slept in until 9 AM — even after having napped for a little while the preceeding evening. We've a consult scheduled with the neurosurgeon for early this afternoon.

The surgeon told us a little bit about the craniotomy, and the risks involved. The plan is for an incision behind the hairline beginning above the ear and extending upward toward the top of her head, then basically folding the skin forward to expose the bone. (My palms are getting sweaty as I type now.) There were two considerations he pointed out:

  • There is a network of nerves that seem to originate from the area of the ear and radiate forward to the face. Among these is a nearly invisible nerve which connects to the muscle used to raise the eyebrow. If the nerve crosses the "fold" of the skin, it is possible that the ability to exercise the eyebrow muscle may be temporarily retarded after the surgery. Think of it like what would happen if you were to fold a garden hose over onto itself.
  • There is a muscle attached to the skull called the temporalis which protrudes downwards from the skull and wraps around the jaw, at which point it's known as the masseter muscle.

    A cutaway image of the left side of the human skull, including the temoralis muscle
    Image credit: Duke University

    The neurosurgeon explained he would have to make a split in the temporalis to get to the bone beneath. A byproduct of the incision is some affect the act of chewing, probably until the muscle heals.

    There's also some concern about the split causing atrophy of the portion of the split closer to the face as a result of decreased blood flow, which could result in a minor disfiguration near and behind the zygomatic process, which is the portion of the skull at your temples. The neurosurgeon characterized this as happening to most, but cosmetically noticeable in some.

    an image of the front of the human skull, with names of various features
    Image credit: Wikipedia
We'll likely ask more questions about things when we meet later this afternoon.

A note on yesterday's angiogram: Laurel doesn't seem to be experiencing any discomfort today. The incision site (I guess I'll call it that) looks good, and only minor bruising is starting to appear. She was good last night, staying off of her feet and letting me handle picking things up off of the floor. She hates not being able to do for herself, but she's a good patient.

UPDATE:
It's later in the evening. Our appointment with the neurosurgeon ran very late — we didn't actually talk with him until over an hour after our appointment time. During our visit, he answered every question we threw at him, but we came away with a very nice (??) overview of what will be involved with the procedure on Monday.

One other thing we learned was why the CT scans from our local hospital are still important to him: CT scans offer context the angiograms don't. Put another way, the angiograms highlighted the MCA and the aneurysm, but blacked out everything else. The benefit of the CT scans, even though they're less precise, is that they show the MCA and the aneurysm in relation to everything else - the bone, muscle, and other tissues beneath and above.

The neurosurgeon is considering ordering a CT angiogram (CTA) in case the local hospital doesn't come through with the scans they did last August. A CTA differs from a standard CT scan in that the scan includes the injection of a dye to increase the definition of veins and arteries in the image.

The surgeon described Laurel's procedure as a right pterional craniotomy. Google it at your own risk. Also, Laurel's aneurysm is located on her MCA at a position roughly equal to the Sylvian fissure, which is the boundary separating the frontal and temporal lobes of the brain. This is a huge bonus for us, because it means no navigation will be required inside the brain.

One of the things that will happen at the close of the procedure is that they will inject a fluorescent dye into Laurel and monitor her circulation to ensure the clip is stable and that they didn't adversely affect anything else. I likened it to when automotive technicians added a fluorescent dye to the gas in my car, then went under the hood with a black light to look for compromised seals.

Finally, there's an additional side effect to the procedure. Laurel may experience some temporary swelling in her right eye as a result of a pooling of fluids. The swelling will go down.

At this point, we're in vacation mode until Monday morning at 6:30 unless the surgeon orders the CTA; and the surgeon ordering the CTA means they were unable to get the imagery from our hospital at home.

February 2, 2018

Slept in again. We were up late, having driven down to St. Augustine for dinner with friends at the Gypsy Cab Co.

Today is about administrivia: extending the hotel and car reservations and so on, plus picking up a few odds and ends at the grocery store: our coffee creamer supply is critically low.

It's nearly noon, and we've not heard from the clinic. This seems to suggest they received the imagery they were looking for, and didn't order the CTA.

We don't have any big plans for the day.

P.S. - if you've ever questioned the value of the trip insurance offered by the airlines, here's a tip: Laurel bought the trip insurance for this trip, anticipating (correctly) the chance things might not go as originally planned at the hospital. The trip insurance will reimburse us for all costs related to our extended stay. After burning through all of the hotel rewards points I had left, the extended reservation still cost over $2,000. Add to that the cost of food, rental car, and so forth... it's significant.

UPDATE:
We drove to St. John's Town Square this afternoon. I got a great photo of Laurel reclining for a pedicure with a mimosa. Dinner tonight at J. Alexander's. The paneed hake (rhymes with "make") with lemon butter crab sauce was insanely good.

After dinner we walked around the square and did a little browsing.

And our creamer shortage has been resolved.

One last thing for tonight — I went down to stick my feet in the hot tub for a few minutes and came upon a guy drunk on Bud Light who was really touched by the notion that the hotel caters to Mayo Clinic patients. I made the mistake of mentioning Laurel's impending procedure and he offered (several times) to give me his phone number so I could call him on Monday if I wanted to talk. His advice to me was to stay positive and "move on," by which I think he meant to just take things as they come and not to dwell on them. He may have been completely wasted on cheap beer, but that doesn't mean the advice was bad. I thanked him by calling and asking the front desk to look in on him when I got up to our room — I didn't want him alone in or near that hot tub in the condition he was in.

February 3, 2018

The drunk guy from last night was at the hot tub again this morning when we came down for breakfast.

We ended up driving back to the airport to swap rental cars. Our first one was a Dodge Journey, a small SUV. It was a brand new car, but the infotainment center was rather bizarre and it had no back-up camera... it's surprising how much we've come to depend on those things. Our new rental is a Ford Explorer with navigation and a back-up camera. I guess the iPhone interfaces with the infotainment system via an app that has to be downloaded and installed.

All cleaned up and pretty again, we'll be heading out for some lunch at either Taziki's or PDQ, then we'll head east to see the beaches — it may be 60° and overcast, but hey, it's not snowing.

We're now on what we'd call the second leg of our trip — that is, we've reached the point where our original reservations have expired and extensions or new reservations have taken over. It's why we drove the original rental car back to the airport this morning to exchange it for another.

This afternoon we drove out to Jacksonville Beach. It was probably about the worst day we could have visited: cloudy and super windy.

Photo of Neptune Beach
      in Jacksonvile Beach, Florida.

We spent maybe 20 minutes walking along the beach and immediately sought out a coffee shop to warm up. (We found a Starbucks a few blocks away.)

February 4, 2018

Super Bowl Sunday started out with rain, although it's warmer than yesterday -- it's 66° as of 10:30 EST.

We're planning to hit up a shop or two today — scarves for Laurel to wear around her head post-surgery, and I'm in need of some better footwear (I've been walking about in my slip-on Chucks — great for airport security lines; not so great for all the walking we've been doing).

We'll figure out what time the game is on and order in. I'm certain today is like Black Friday for pizza shops.

I've been noticing that Laurel has been spending a lot of time surfing Jacksonville real estate. Today we spent the afternoon walking through model homes in two separate real estate developments. She wore me out. But we saw two models that were laid out really, really well.

So in preparation for the Super Bowl, we ordered a deep dish pizza from a local place named Siena's Italian Cuisine — we opened the heavy box to something resembling a cheese wheel. They provided a marinara sauce to go over the top. Wow was it good!!

We tuned into only the last couple of minutes of the Super Bowl. I had been following along via intermittent queries to Siri while Laurel watched every episode of Worst Cooks in America — it's funny how every television we own or watch for an extended period seems capable of only receiving the Food Network and the Travel Channel. Anyway, we caught the last couple of minutes when it was looking like the Eagles might actually pull it out... I'm glad Philadelphia is bringing home the Lombardi Trophy, and that the Patriots seemed professional and gracious about the loss.

February 5, 2018

5:15 came awfully early this morning, following an uncomfortable night before surgery. Laurel was wheeled into the O.R. at 8:30 AM on the dot, with a little pain medication in advance to help with anxiety. It seemed like the decision and all it entailed suddenly left the realm of academic exercise in the five minutes before she left. And in a way, I'm very grateful — I had been the one doing all of the crying up to this point.

I'm crying because they're cutting my beautiful baby's head open. I know they're doing a good thing — although I still can't quite let go of how close the call was between operating and leaving it alone. When it's over she's going to have screws and fancy washers holding a baseball-sized piece of skull in place, and her face will have been peeled back and sewn back together. She will be bruised and swollen and scarred, and we've been told about the weird noises she'll hear from the air that got let in. Nobody wants any of this for a loved one. The notion of this is making me cry now — how will I ever keep it all together when I see her this afternoon?

I'm back at the hotel now. I've eaten, had a little coffee, and have the A/C working a little overtime to make up for whatever got changed yesterday — the room temp was part of the reason sleep was evasive at times. I'm going back to bed now to try to catch up on some of the sleep I lost earlier.

UPDATE 1:
12:30 PM EST. No word yet from the hospital, but that's to be expected. After making the previous entry I texted a few of Laurel's friends directly and took a nap for a little while. Just got up and made a little food. I figure I'll get cleaned up and head back to the hospital in a little bit. 1:30 PM EST will mark five hours.

I anticipate the next word I'll hear is that she's out of surgery. I think their practice is they take her back to ICU and do a few things (basically, this is recovery) before I'm invited back to see her — so I won't get to see her right away once she's out of surgery. BTW, recovery in ICU is standard operating procedure (forgive the unintentional pun) for craniotomy patients.

UPDATE 2:
12:54 PM EST: I just got a call from the hospital. The news is, "Things are going well," and that the surgeon "is currently working under the microscope."

As with many things about this trip, the message was a little vague. I guess the second sentence means they've begun work on the aneurysm. The poor volunteer who phoned me is a guy sitting at a desk someplace — he's got no direct knowledge, so... *shrug*

I really liked the first sentence, though.

UPDATE 3:
2:39 PM EST: Hospital reports "the aneurysm has been clipped and secured." We're now at hour six of the procedure; I assume this report means they're testing and getting ready to close. Next call I receive from the hospital should be the neurosurgeon.

UPDATE 4:
3:40 PM EST: Neurosurgeon reports surgery went well; ran long because the aneurysm was nestled up against the frontal lobe, so extra time was taken to maneuver in to isolate the aneurysm. Two clamps were used to cut off the blood flow, and her vitals were constant and good throughout.

I was STILL on the phone updating everybody when I got the next call...

UPDATE 5:
5:20 PM EST: Laurel is out of recovery and ready for me to come visit!

UPDATE 6:
9:00 PM EST: Laurel is resting comfortably for the moment. She’s got all of the symptoms we were told to expect—- headache, pain in the jaw muscles on the right side, and pain probably from swelling behind the right eye — but nothing more (apart from a touch of nausea, which is common in craniotomy patients). Pain management has made her sleepy.

And I am thankful.

She was a little bit of a jerk when I got there — she demanded her lip balm and then basically told me to shut up when talking to the nurse a few minutes later... so I sat quietly for a few minutes until she asked for me again. I sat with her there for a few hours, in the dark, feeding her crushed ice as she'd ask for it.

She looks good — as good as a woman whose head is wrapped in a bandage can, I guess. Her right eye looked a leeeetle droopy, but I'm not sure if that's just the effect of the bandage or not. No bruising or swelling that I could see, but it's possible those may set in overnight.

Drove back to the hotel, made myself a bite to eat. Started considering this evening's entertainment options as I was typing. I could write some code, but I think I might hafta sugar up to do it. Maybe I'll browse some new books on my Kindle or just surf the Chive for a little while... I could use some funny.

UPDATE 7:
11:50 PM EST: Ended up playing a few hands of solitaire and watching the latter half of Doctor Strange. The hospital scenes read differently now.

Tomorrow I plan to sleep in, shower, eat, and head back to the ICU. Perhaps I'll bring the laptop along and bang out some code.

February 6, 2018

12:30 PM EST: Laurel is recovering well. She's eating, drinking, walking, and using the restroom with assistance. Pain management still keeps her sleepy. Some bruising happening on the right side of her face; her jaw is still sore, and she still has that headache. By all indications, her recovery is progressing very well. She's already had an IV removed, and she'll get her bandage taken off this afternoon. Apparently the hospital has a fun selection of hats from which she may choose... she's looking forward to it.

She was moved out of ICU and into a room on a different floor late this morning. She's sleeping again now. Lunch today is a mango smoothie with protein powder added, and chocolate pudding. Her choice.

I didn't exactly sleep in this morning, but basically everything else went according to plan.

So far today I got to speak Russian and Tagalog in addition to English. Such a win.

Yesterday was pretty frenzied with constant updates — basically every call I got from the hospital became about an hour of some combination of calls, writing update texts, an update post to Facebook, and updating the site. I took the call from the surgeon while I was in the car, and pulled off of the street. I sat there for an hour. I expect that updates will be far less frequent from today forward — particularly the urgent messages and calls. I'll still respond to queries as I can.

UPDATE 1:
1:35 PM EST: Bruising is really becoming noticeable around her right eye. She's been asleep for about the past 45 minutes. I've been silently working through 4 oz. of steamed broccoli for most of that time.

UPDATE 2:
10:40 PM EST: Laurel's bandage was removed late this afternoon — at least, most of it was. Beneath the bandage is a... honestly, I don't know what this thing is. I would have expected it to be gauze... it's where gauze would go over the sutures, along the seam where the skin was cut. Only it's not gauze. It might be a pad from a 3M Tegaderm dressing, but with the transparent adhesive removed from around it.

When the bandage was removed, Laurel complained of her hair being "matted" in the back. As best as I can tell, perhaps a drop of glue fell on the back of her head. So, doing the math (read: I'm completely reaching here), perhaps whatever that long strip is was actually glued over the shorn skin. I heard the nurse mention that someone was going to remove the remainder of the dressing tomorrow, and to shampoo her hair.

I had been worried about the reveal... worried about how I would respond. I snapped a couple of photos for Laurel to see and she wasn't exactly elated with her current look. But I'm following Phillip's advice, and just "[being] positive and moving [forward]."

Thank you, Phillip.

February 7, 2018

Got in a little late this morning, wrangling coffee and iced tea as ordered.

I struggled into the room to find Laurel awake and without the remaining dressing. A short while later she was escorted into the shower.

When we left last night, we'd requested a different anti-nausea medication that Laurel knew worked well for her. Sometime in the night it must have been authorized, and I was overjoyed to see her eating applesauce this morning.

A nurse came by a few minutes ago and mentioned there's talk of releasing her today. Personally, I think I'd rather she stay through to Thursday. She's barely eaten in the past couple of days, and at this point she's eating applesauce. I guess I'd prefer she have a little more nutrition under her belt before we head for the hotel.

She's sleeping again. I'm sure the shower really took it out of her.

UPDATE:
3:30 PM EST: Lots of sleeping happening, but in the breaks she's using the toilet, and going for walks.

I need to do a little bit of grocery shopping this afternoon, because I'm running on low on supplies at the hotel. I'll probably take off in about 45 minutes to do that — hopefully by doing so I'll avoid the rush hour mess on San Pablo and Beach Boulevard. I'll grab some dinner in the room while I'm out and come back for a while this evening.

February 9, 2018

Laurel was discharged from the hospital yesterday. She ate some dinner last night and ate some breakfast this morning. She has three medications -- one of which is for the prevention of seizures (another standard operating procedure for craniotomy patients). Her other prescriptions (pain and anti- nausea) are further fortified with Tylenol and Advil.

Her swelling continues to decrease — she noted this morning that the FaceID on her iPhone is working again. She's still got a headache of course, though it's not as bad as it was.

February 11, 2018

Laurel's swelling is just about gone — her jaw and cheek are still a tiny bit swollen, and she's still got some color in the area of her temple and right eye.

She had a very active day yeterday. We stepped out of the room for a while and did a little shopping (she drove a motorized cart), and we went out for sushi last night. The roll made her stretch her mouth a bit, and her jaw is sore today (oops). We also stayed up late last night watching the olympics.

Also, she didn't nap yesterday. She finds she's a touch tired today.

Chick-Fil-A's sriracha sauce is not my friend.

February 12, 2018

Last night we went to another spectacular seafood restaurant. Marker 32 served a Mahi Hoppin' John with a beautiful basily flavor that sent me into orbit. The black-eyed peas and rice were a bit heavy - almost mealy - and weighed down the dish enough that I could only eat half. The basil was the perfect introduction for the marinara atop the fish. It was crazy good.

A neighboring table remarked that Marker 32 is known to be second only to Safe Harbor Seafood for the quality of their seafood — and that's because Safe Harbor actually fishes for the food they serve. Looks like we've covered all the bases here!

More importantly, Laurel looked beautiful at dinner. She's got her curly hair arranged around a bandana, and any remaining swelling is imperceptable without careful study.

She completes her anti-seizure medication tonight (she never had a seizure), and she'll have her staples removed on Thursday. At one point yesterday she logged into her work computer and spent some time catching up with one of her peers. I slipped out for a sorely needed shave... two weeks away from my clippers did me no favors. We had a little down-time yesterday afternoon, laying on the bed and watching women's olympic ice hockey (USA beat Finland).

So far today, she's playing on her XBOX. I interpret this as a huge step, because gaming tends to create elevated mental activity. I admit I'm curious to see how long she'll play and how she'll feel when she stops.

February 14, 2018

Laurel continues to improve, though I have noticed she's got some bruising on her throat now, probably from her intubation during the procedure.

Her use of the medication has been declining. We talked about it a bit, and I learned that she's moving away from prophylactic use and toward management-as-needed. I've been meticulously logging her consumption of both the pain and nausea meds as well as her supplementary OTC meds, and all have been in decline over the past two days. She was typically using one of the OTC's at about 90 minutes after her prescription meds; those times have been slipping to two hours and beyond. She's actually run out of the nausea med, but she's getting it refilled.

Last night we had another new dining experience: TacoLu is located just over the bridge toward Jacksonville Beach. They're a casual, Day of the Dead-themed taco joint and bar. Their "$10 Taco" is made with Filet Mignon, but it doesn't hold a candle to The Carne Royale.

Today, Laurel is out getting some "face time" with a beautician while I hang back in the hotel room to have an interview with a prospective employer — my second in two days!

February 16, 2018

Laurel got her staples out yesterday afternoon.


Afterward, we went out to celebrate. Dinner was at Pusser's Bar and Grille at Ponta Vedra Beach. I couldn't have been more excited about this — during my service to our country I was lucky enough to participate in the time-honored British naval tradition of splicing the mainbrace. The restaurant even had a rum tub under glass:




Today was our big day for heading out to the beach. And the weather didn't disappoint.




We're finally coming home tomorrow. We spent this evening in the room having Chinese take-out, doing laundry and packing our bags. We can't wait to rejoin the rest of our family!

February 17, 2018: Home Again

After a long day of travel, we made it back home at about 10 PM. The longest part was about four hours on the aircraft taking us from Dulles: Bad weather was moving in, and we sat in the plane for about an hour and a half before we went anywhere. But we did okay, and got home safe.

We were welcomed home with a small banner hanging in our bedroom and another by the back door — both painted by kiddo. When I got in the door she gave me the biggest hug ever and wouldn't let me go. I won't soon forget it.



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2018.01.28Family Update: Terry Charch

Papa continues in decline at the rest home. His weight is down significantly, but appears to be doing very well physically, and eats everything put in front of him. Mentally, though, his transition continues. He's still verbal, but has joined the club of residents clutching dolls and stuffed animals. It seems he is projecting memories of his infant children or grandchilden onto them — I suppose they're all doing that. Over the past few visits, he's been cooing to one of these community objects. He introduced us to a teddy bear today, which he named "Terry Charch."



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2017.12.11Soldiering On at Christmas

Clipart image of a Christmas tree

It's nearly mid-December, and that means decorating for Christmas. Yesterday we put up our Christmas tree, and decorated it using mom's family ornaments.

I'd have to imagine all of these ornaments are dear to Laurel and mom — they represent memories going back at least to Laurel's childhood. Decorating the tree without Papa this year must have been very hard on her.

It was at Christmastime last year that Papa fell. The trauma significantly accelerated the spread and severity of his dementia, prompting us to place him in full-time care.

Mom didn't participate in decorating the tree. I suspect she made herself busy cooking dinner. I'm sure that unpacking and hanging those ornaments would have been pretty rough on Mom.

For my part, I was free of the significance of the decorations, but I absolutely understood that Laurel was not. And I thought she was very brave.



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2017.12.09Season of Giving

Kindness is giving hope to those who think they are all alone in this world. Credit: randomactsofkindness.org

A man came to our door this morning and asked for my mother in law by name. Once he verified her identity, he delivered basically all of the food one would require to make a standard Christmas turkey dinner — including tons of canned goods, a sack of potatoes, and of course, a frozen turkey. He also gave her a board game — something meant for kids to play together to pass the time.

We are all just completely blown away by the gesture. From what we can tell, this act of kindness originated from a neighborhood church. Since mom was asked for by name, we must assume some members of the church — probably neighbors — were aware of the rough year particularly she has had, and wanted to do something nice for her for the holiday season. Going with the thought the benefactor is a neighbor, he or she has likely seen that we've moved in with her — a couple with a kid — and perhaps that became the basis for the donation of such a copious amount of food and the game.

I can't thank these people enough for their generosity, though I'm left with a thought: Perhaps whomever does the shopping for these lovely gestures might put more thought into the board games they're giving to families down on their luck:

Sorry!


We're grateful for all of these blessings. But maybe games like "Sorry!" 1  and "Life" 2 could send an unintended message?



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2017.11.23On Giving Thanks at Thanksgiving

Image of a classic Thanksgiving card. Image credit: stufffundieslike.net

First, I need to get something off of my chest: I have never been one for the "let's go around the table and say what we're thankful for" kind of thing at Thanksgiving, because I feel its an act of performance.

Being thankful — and the things, people, events that people are thankful for — should be a private matter. Making one list these items only invites trouble, because "obligations" tend to intrude. Thoughts like, "I'd better say I'm thankful that lush Uncle Jerry and tightwad Aunt Margaret made the trip, because I'm seated right across from them."

I like my thankfulness unrehearsed and uncoerced. I don't want social pressure to inform what I should or shouldn't say. Every time I've been made to do this, I've tried to assemble my words as the people before me were taking their turns. That's what makes this such an awful exercise.

I've spent the last few months not feeling very thankful. I lost a job that I really loved; I lost a house and a neighborhood I really loved. Selling the house ate through all of the savings I had left, and now I have a massive tax bill because of the penalties. I was without work for two months. All of this shattered my confidence and made me feel "less than," despite none of it being my fault. My exercise and diet routine was shot completely to bits — through a combination of change in routine, losing my motivation, and stress. No, I'm not thankful for any of that. At least, not yet.

Here's what I am thankful for: Through all of that amazing awfulness, my wife and daughter and their love have kept my spirits fairly buoyant, along with the friendship of others. I'm thankful for a new employer who was willing to work with me to help me get back on my feet, and I've been showing them a wealth of gratitude. I'm thankful I was able to save my mother in law's life — that's hard for me to write — and I'm thankful we're all getting along in this tiny house. I'm thankful our daughter is doing so well in school, and of how proud she makes me. I'm thankful for new friendships in unlikely places, and new pursuits. I'm thankful I can cook for my family and still talk to my mother. I'm thankful mom sold her place and moved into a care facility. I'm thankful for guidance and for new experiences. No, my life is not what it was, but I feel like I'm on the mend — and I'm very thankful for that.

I'm saying that, even in hard times, we can probably find things to be thankful for. There's a lot about my life that has absolutely had me down over the past couple of months. Someone once said, "it's not how many times you get knocked down that counts. It's how many times you get back up." These days, it's not hard to find somebody who has things worse than you do. That exercise in itself is a measure of thankfulness.

A year ago this week, the neighborhood got together and spent a couple of hours packing boxes and bags of food for people in need in our community. I need to make time to do that more often. Because it's one thing to be thankful for the blessings in your life. But to BE a blessing in someone else's life is another thing entirely.



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2017.10.17Cultural Inventions

Image of a classic American version of Santa Claus. Image credit: Wikipedia

Kiddo has been advancing in so many ways this school year — academically, she's taken off like a rocket, with A's in three of her classes. We've seen some indications of her success when she's talked to us about the things she's learning. The important differentiator here is that she's LEARNING the material, and she's reaching out and getting help with material that gives her trouble.

She's also advancing socially — making friends, hanging out with them (a group!), and navigating around the pitfalls of middle school social networking.

She's also becoming more technologically aware by having responsibility for a laptop and using it to complete assignments.

So I'm having trouble understanding how, in the midst of all of these advancements, she still believes in Santa and the Tooth Fairy?

I think it's our fault, as her parents. Because we've done so well in perpetuating those myths that she's a wholesale believer despite the pace at which everything else in her life is maturing.

Santa Claus

In a previous life, Laurel worked for a local economic development agency. Part of her responsibilities as Director of Events was to organize every last detail of seasonal parades. As you can imagine, she got to know a lot of people and civic organizations pretty well — including the man who was hired to play Santa in the Christmas parade.

It was the holiday season (prior to Christmas) and kiddo was four when she and Laurel were at the mall doing some shopping. Laurel's Santa normally didn't work the mall, but he was there on this occasion and walking toward the break room when he spied Laurel and Kiddo. He spoke up and greeted Laurel by name, and blew. Kiddo's. Mind.

I don't know if Santa ever realized the great gift he'd given Laurel that day. His greeting sparked a conversation between Kiddo and Laurel that somehow culminated in Kiddo becoming absolutely convinced that Santa was always watching, that mommy had a DEMONSTRATED direct connection to Santa, and that she could email him at any time for any reason. (E-mailing Santa was a device of kiddo's design, by the way — one night, Laurel was up late doing some work, which included sending some e-mails. Kiddo, still awake in her bedroom, asked her if she was e-mailing (*insert dramatic pause*) Santa — perhaps she was afraid she'd make the naughty list for not being asleep yet!) This gave rise to more conversations than I could count that ended up with Laurel asking, "Do you want me to e-mail Santa?"

Portable North Pole

At about the same time, Laurel caught onto an absolute GEM of a gimmick: The Portable North Pole console. It's a service — that still exists today — whereby you can enter your child's name and upload a couple of photos, and Santa will send special video messages for you and your child. You could use these videos as a corrective device, by entering in the form that your child has been naughty and selecting a reason why — the video will then show Santa finding your kid on his naughty list and encouring him or her to improve before Christmas. Your child is "identified" by his or her book — Santa has a book for every child — and the photos you send in appear in the "book." I recall uploading photos of Kiddo's room (we didn't upload photos of Kiddo; we uploaded images of things familiar to kiddo instead), and seeing her just EXPLODE when she saw a pic of her room in Santa's book. You could even add the names of your child's friends, so your kid's "book" appears next to those of the friends. We used PNP with great success.

Laurel took a few extra steps to ensure the myth of Santa was preserved, though also subtly introduced the notion that Santa was not the only gift giver. The best example I can offer: gifts from Santa were always wrapped in a super secret wrapping paper. This was absolute brilliance on Laurel's part, because Kiddo could be aware of the presence of holiday wrapping paper in the home, and would receive gifts from specific people in addition to Santa. But the roll of paper Santa used was never seen, so it was like Santa wrapped those gifts someplace outside of the home. This tack was also important, I think, because it introduced Kiddo to the concept of people giving gifts to each other over the holidays; not all gifts come from Santa.

The Tooth Fairy

The Tooth Fairy has always given kiddo a golden dollar for every tooth she's lost. (When I was a kid, market value in our house was $0.25.) I thought the Sacagawea dollar was a great choice for dental currency because (1) it's golden color really stands out (2) it's actual legal tender (3) rarely circulated (meaning the chances of her getting a Sacagawea dollar on the economy is low) and (4) it's valued at $1.

What's not to like?

The Tooth Fairy has also always written kiddo a nice letter, either hand-written or printed in an elegant font (thank you, Microsoft Word!).

There has never been a time she didn't receive a golden coin paired with a nice letter — though this year, we changed things up a little. More on that in a bit.

Tinkerbell

Our relationship with The Tooth Fairy was sort of pushed to an extreme a few years ago. Kiddo had lost a tooth just before we went on vacation to Disney, and in a letter, the Tooth Fairy had told kiddo that she and Tinkerbell were good friends, and that she'd talk to Tink about our upcoming visit.

Upon check-in at Disney, we asked the staff where we might find a gift shop that had little Tinkerbell-oriented gifts, and explained the whole Tooth Fairy-Tinkerbell connection. The front desk staff told us they'd take care of it (that was so nice!), and wow did they — when we got back to the room that evening, waiting on the kitchen island was ALL SORTS of goodies for kiddo: a Tinkerbell mug filled with little toys and fun confetti, perhaps a small stuffed animal too; little pins and lanyards and things. They. Completely. Hooked. Us. Up! We thanked them again and again and again.

A couple of days later we were walking around EPCOT and saw that Tinkerbell was making an appearance at one of the exhibits — and kiddo was anxious to thank her. I got busy downloading an app I could use to draw very large text on my phone screen, and used it to guide Tinkerbell as best I could.

First I drew Kiddo's name in large letters and positioned myself behind Kiddo so when we walked upon the stage, Tink could read her name. She took the cue beautifully and greeted kiddo by name and very enthusiastically. Next, I wrote "lost a tooth" or "Tooth Fairy sent her" or something like that and she picked right up on that, too, with Kiddo very happily filling in the gaps. It was about perfect. Kiddo left feeling kinda star-struck. I've always wanted to thank that young actress for her awesome assistance that day. I should send this story to Disney World.

Sunday's Tooth

Fast-forward to this past Sunday. Kiddo pulled out a molar, and insisted she put it under her pillow for the Tooth Fairy. The notion completely blew me away — just how is it she is learning about sex and science and what assholes adolscents can be, but still believes in the tooth fairy?

It was 10:30 at night. My printer is still packed. She's been using her phone a lot more lately — texting has really become a thing — maybe we do this letter electronically?

I set to work making changes to my website mailer code. I modified the development environment code to make the sender address read "tf@toothfairy.com," and sent myself a few test messages.

But sending an e-mail wouldn't be enough. First off, I still had the problem of the actual tooth-for-money swap; and she's now sleeping with the dogs in her room. We've been living here for three weeks now; I was praying the big dog in particular, who is hard of hearing and going blind, wouldn't attack me in the dark. Very fortunately, he slept through the whole thing, and I made it out with the tooth and the phone.

Laurel set to work configuring the phone for the e-mail account Kiddo never knew she had, and configuring the notifications to make the incoming message appear — and stay — on the lock screen, so kiddo couldn't miss it.

Then I got to thinking about creating contact information for the Tooth Fairy, so Kiddo would see "The Tooth Fairy" and an image as the sender instead of deciphering an e-mail address. I got the new contact AirDropped onto kiddo's unit, then got back onto my laptop and sent a test message. Everything went perfectly, so we deleted the test, turned off the phone, resent the message, and planted the phone back in kiddo's room.

On Monday morning, kiddo noted that she woke up with the coin in her hand, but found no letter. When I dropped her off at school, I reminded her the Tooth Fairy had never not left her a letter of some kind. I was confident she'd find it as school was letting out, but she didn't mention it when I picked her up in the afternoon. When Laurel asked about it later, Kiddo only casually responded that the Tooth Fairy had sent her "a note on her phone." — it was another example of her classic underwhelming response to something we worked so hard for.

Exit Strategy

Where we anticipate trouble with all of this is at school -- or, more directly, with her friends at school. I just don't want to see Kiddo come home deflated after her entire class ganged up on her on Santa or the Tooth Fairy. And right now, we're a little more concerned about the Tooth Fairy because the Tooth Fairy is a contact in her phone! I can guarantee it'll be a bad day if one of her friends sees that. This is the kind of thing that makes an exit strategy so important. (I never in a million years would have thought I'd be using a term like "exit strategy" to describe how to escort Kiddo away from her childhood.)

Laurel and I have discussed how to proceed. Kiddo has an orthadontist appointment in the next few weeks — Laurel's going to use the opporutnity to determine how many teeth Kiddo has left to lose, and we'll put together a plan for how The Tooth Fairy will say goodbye. At the moment, it'll probably be an e-mail message on the occasion of the loss of her final tooth, assuming that happens sometime relatively soon.

Santa's gonna be a tougher nut to crack. Every holiday season we very timidly test Kiddo's waters to figure out where she is on the scale of Santa Reality. Particularly over the past couple of years, we've braced ourselves for the result. She's heard other kids saying that Santa isn't real... and she's asked mommy straight out. Mommy's response was perhaps imperceptably subtle.

I guess I just thought that kids figure this stuff out for themselves, and parents just sort of abruptly learn that their child doesn't believe in it anymore. The parents breathe a sigh of relief and life moves on. And maybe that can happen for us. But when I was growing up, kids didn't have mobile phones with contact information for the Tooth Fairy, or probably didn't grow up believing their mothers had a Wifi hotline to Santa.

Straight Up Now, Tell Me

Of course, we have available the direct option of just telling her the truth. Reading that sentence aloud nearly made me cry; it makes me feel like I'd be killing something pure and beautiful. This is a real dilemma, as silly as it may sound. On the one hand, I'd like the convenience of Kiddo just learning it someplace. On the other hand, I don't want her to suffer for that lesson — I don't want her to be ridiculed by friends, and I couldn't bear for her stepbrother to break her heart yet again. I feel pretty safe in saying Laurel and I would much rather have some control over how the news is delivered, and have some influence in how it is received, than to risk an event within especially her budding social network.

Epilogue

I told Laurel that I felt we should talk with Kiddo about the Tooth Fairy in particular, for some of the reasons I gave above.

Later in the afternoon, after Kiddo got home from school, we had an opportunity to talk a bit about the whole Tooth Fairy thing. She volunteered that she didn't believe in the Tooth Fairy; she'd stopped believing last year. "I had a fishy feeling," she said. I then explained the sequence of Sunday night's events to her, and also explained that we did it because we thought she really believed in it, and didn't want to disappoint her. She wasn't angry or upset at all.



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2017.10.07Moved In

Image of a real estate for sale sign in front of a home

It's been a week and a half since the closing on the old house. The plan for selling the house all along was to bring mom aboard so she wouldn't be alone over the winter. We've achieved that, though not according to plan. I think we've certainly added some stressors to her life — she's become used to living alone — but I think we've also made things much better for her. I've been trying to be as helpful and out of her way as I can be.

I guess I'm overly sensitive about the situation, but I'm working really hard against any of us feeling like we're occupying mom's home in more of a military sense than a familial one. I want to be as cooperative and helpful as I possibly can. The house is getting a top-to-bottom cleaning. So far, the kitchen has required the most attention — I found a bottle of ketchup that expired over six years ago; its contents looked like barbecue sauce. At that point we brought in the big guns, and boy am I glad we did — mold was found in a couple of spots and remediated.

This is in no way my mother's fault; it's merely a function of settling into a life or environment, combined with simply not wanting to deal with the detritus of separation. I'm hoping our time together here will be a rebirth of sorts for mom — that new sweeter memories will gradually replace the bitter ones.



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2017.09.17UPDATED: Sidearms and Stripper Poles

Image of a real estate for sale sign in front of a home

 

Yesterday I came to realize that I've been having such a difficult time of things lately because I've got two of the greatest stressors happening at once — being between jobs at the same time as packing up my home.

I received a visit from a friend yesterday afternoon. An accomplished business man, he offered the observation that I'm doing everything right regarding my approach to the job search. It was kind of him to comment.

Meanwhile, the house is looking increasingly maked. We held a garage sale this weekend to lighten the load a little in preparation for the move. Well, when I say "we," I actually mean our cleaning person, whom I'll call "Bill." The garage sale was his idea — something he wanted to do for a while, so we agreed to contribute our driveway and items that he could sell, and we'd split the proceeds with him.

On Friday evening, his sister arrived to help with the set-up. We'd met her before, but we'd never seen her wearing a sidearm. It made me very uncomfortable. Also, among the items Bill contributed for the sale was a stripper pole. I spent Friday night awake for a while, wondering what I'd just invited to our neighborhood, and how much apologizing I'd have to do to my neighbors for the show in our driveway.

People were arriving an hour before the sale opened on Saturday morning. I overheard many asking "Bill" if he was the homeowner — the "sold" sign remains in the front yard. As weird as this is, it seems to be working. Bill texts us when customers have questions about our contributions, and is keeping a record of the prices we're asking for.

I was just outside, and saw the stripper pole against the fence. Apparently Laurel and I are the subject of much conversation among the sale visitors. Because I need that right now.

UPDATE: The stripper pole never sold.

UPDATE: 9/18 - I have to take that back. Yesterday evening, slight man knocked at my door and asked if the stripper pole had sold. To my knowledge, "Bill" had loaded up his leftover things and had already hauled them back to his storage unit, so I put the man in contact with "Bill" to sort out their transaction.

This morning, after running kiddo to school, I thought I'd put my car back in the garage — and lo and behold, that stoopy stripper pole was STILL HERE.

UPDATE: 9/28 - I put that pole in a neighbors' garage. *guffaw*



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2017.09.10UPDATED: House Hunters, halfgk Edition

Image of a real estate for sale sign in front of a home

Nothing seems to make a house your home as much as what you hang on its walls. Photos of your family, artwork that reflects your tastes... all of these things combine to represent you to the people you welcome into your home.

If you accept that argument, then it stands to reason that about the fastest way to demote a home to a house is by taking all of those mementos down from its walls.

Tonight, my home looks naked. I can't think of a more visible reminder that our chapter here is ending than seeing open walls where artwork and photos and certificates and posters were once hung.

I know it will affect me... I'm just not yet sure how: it will likely serve as a visible reminder that we have a lot of work to do, but I don't know how I'll feel. Maybe it'll motivate me. Maybe it'll just make me sad. Maybe both.



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2017.08.29Life, Unscripted

Meme of Steve Correll yelling, with text 'WHY IS EVERYBODY YELLING'. Image credit: quickmeme.com

Laurel and I exercise every morning after kiddo gets on the bus. Today the bus went flying down our street pretty early, and kiddo missed it. No big deal. As early as it was, we decided to exercise before making the drive. Kiddo joined us. We saw a police vehicle drive by us on a neighborhood street — a rare sight. Later on our walk, we saw — and heard — something else: a woman, standing in the middle of the street, screaming at someone about an affair her husband was having. Apparently the woman proceeded south in parallel to us, because we saw her again after we'd turned east. At this point, we could hear a man responding to her yelling. He didn't sound agitated, and she was still ranting.

All of this drama definitely affected kiddo. It was the subject of conversation on the ride to school, and, well, clearly I'm still thinking about it. We'll need to spend some extra time with her tonight.



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2017.08.28UPDATED: House Hunters, halfgk Edition

Image of a real estate for sale sign in front of a home

The plan of previous report remains partially intact. We're still moving out... but we're not buying the other house as intended.

My employer held a second round of layoffs late last week, and I'm transitioning to alumni status. Continuing with the sale of our current lovely home will serve to relieve us of a mortgage payment.

As for Yaya's home, well, some things will be accelerated on that front. We'll put our things in storage and move in with her. Among the advantages this offers: Yaya won't be alone (a primary goal of the original move plan), and certainly won't be lonely.

So some of the activities needed to happen as part of getting her home ready to sell should now happen before we move in. She'd been having a hard time going into Papa's room; it's about to get a tweenager makeover.

It's not what I wanted. But it's the lemonade we've made.



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2017.08.16School Has Turned Our Lives Upside Down

Image of the back of a school bus. Image credit: Fotolia

The start of school has already had quite an impact on the whole family. Kiddo now catches a bus at the same time I used to get up in the morning, so now we're all getting up before the sun. And because we're now up so early, Laurel and I go exercise once Kiddo is driven away, which seems to make my morning much, much longer — before I was going out to exercise following a morning meeting, after having eased my way into morning with a cup of coffee and a protein shake. Now my butt's in the chair instead of up above my feet for that 20 minutes. By the way, my exercise numbers are (relatively) off the chart (yay!).

Coffee is one piece of the puzzle that's sorta not quite fitting yet. I make it first thing in the morning out of habit -- but since I want to get my protein shake in before going out to exercise, coffee is sort of taking a back seat to breakfast... I won't really drink it until I get back and start working. Maybe I shouldn't even bother to make it until we get home from exercising? Doesn't that defeat the point?

Clearly, the new schedule is impacting our evening time too. I fear my days of staying up until the 11 o'clock hour are gone — at least during the week. I'm adjusting, I think, because by early afternoon I'm due for a nap... and last night by 9:30 I just couldn't keep my eyes open anymore.

Happily, kiddo is loving the new school. She's already made new friends and was asked by THREE BOYS to go, eh, "go steady." (The phrase around my school at that age was to "go with" somebody. She's getting asked "Are you single?" "Do you want a boyfriend?"). This, by day TWO of classes. (Unrelated: Someone should start a business renting out impressive yet inoperable weaponry to fathers with adolescent daughters for display in their living rooms.)



Image credit: Fotolia



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2017.08.16UPDATED: House Hunters, halfgk Edition

Image of a real estate for sale sign

I cried when I heard the news.

We sold the house yesterday.

Now comes all of the minutiae and mess of everything that follows: hammering out the details with the buyer, tweaking details with our seller... plus getting Yaya's house on the market and all that entails.

.

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2017.08.14Kiddo, Kitty Not Getting Along

Image credit: Imgur users seaeye and sirbaz.

Kiddo and the cat aren't getting along, I guess. I just heard kiddo yell in the bathroom, "I'M NOT MESSING WITH YOU, CAT!! I JUST CAME IN HERE TO TAKE A SHIT!!"

Oh, mercy. It's the first time I've ever heard her use that phrase — she must be really, really angry!



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2017.08.13The Chosen One

The aliens from Toy Story. Image credit: Disney

Kiddo came home from her first day of fifth grade last year and trumpeted that she was "the chosen one." Her basis for this claim was that the school janitor tossed her a peanut butter sandwich.

Tonight, on the eve of her first day of sixth grade, she has made the same declaration — only this time, the basis was a clump of Parmesan cheese in her meal.



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2017.08.12Miscommunication

image of children doing handstands

Kiddo (to Laurel):"Can you queef?"
Laurel:"Well, yeah, but not on purpose."
Kiddo:"Wait. What do you mean?"
Laurel:"What do you think a queef is?"
Kiddo:"It's a headstand, right?"
Laurel:"Uh... nope."
Kiddo:"Oh, man... I've been saying that to random people..."



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2017.07.30She's Not Wrong

Image credit: Imgur users seaeye and sirbaz.

Me:"What does your fortune say?"
Kiddo:"It says I'm expensive."

She's incorrect, but she's not wrong:

Fortune cookie fortune, that reads, 'You are very expressive and positive in word, act and feeling.'



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2017.07.29Learning How She Learns

We recently had our child examined to discover strategies we and the schools might use to help her learn and retain material more effectively.

We expect the final report will show the presence of dyslexia and perhaps Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder.

Not entirely unexpected, really.

Kiddo was born apart from Laurel and me with some challenges — parting gifts from her birth mother. Laurel knew this when she adopted our lovely child. Typically kids born with these addictions develop some emotional and learning difficulties. In our daughter's case, I feel the emotional part probably presented on time (when she was very young), but she hasn't had any serious learning challenges with the exception of a diminished capacity to retain the material she reads; she has to work harder than her classmates on that score. We'd been working with her and the school through an individual education plan to help her achieve, and she's been doing a pretty good job — but we still wanted an actual diagnosis.

We're about to get it.



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2017.07.25Herpes

Image credit: Imgur users seaeye and sirbaz.

Kiddo:"It's herpes!"
Laurel:"Do you know what that is?"
Kiddo:"Yeah, it's a disease that makes you go like this. *shakes*"
Laurel:"That's Parkinson's."

SMH



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2017.06.28House Hunters, halfgk Edition

Image of a real estate for sale sign

My wife and I are at the age where the parts on the parents are wearing out. Papa is in a care facility, and Yaya is left lonely and alone in their home. Being without Papa has been quite an adjustment for her; they were due to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary next week — but he no longer understands they're married — he may not even recognize her any longer.

Yaya's health and mobility remain fair, and I believe it will for at least the next few years — she has a degenerative muscular condition that will eventually require dedicated care resources. I believe there's a significant window between now and then.

Laurel and I have decided that while we're in this window, we want to bring Yaya into our home. Doing that means selling our home and hers, and buying a larger home for us all to live in.

We've found two homes in the area that will meet our needs.

The Big House

The first was a gigantic place that backs up to a golf course. The master suite is actually on the first floor, and is just about perfect for Yaya — the ensuite is built with wheelchair access in mind. It seemed pretty clear to me the previous occupants included someone with a disability. The downside of the home was that the upstairs, though featuring three enormous bedrooms, had a single, small bathroom, and a single stairway with a 90° turn (which may preclude installation of a chair lift). Also, the home is situated back on it's property on a busy street. In short, the home would be great for Yaya, but maybe not super awesome for the rest of us, though there's plenty of space. We put an offer in on the house, but it was sold to a cash buyer.... or was it?

That 70's House

The second home is... well, we thought The Big House was mind-blowing until we saw this one. That 70's House is a beautifully constructed home in a much quieter neighborhood. Lots of wood and stone accents were blended with the interior to offer a kind of a rustic yet spacious feel. It has a "bridge" that connects the two ends of the upstairs part of the home, and that bridge has both an angled front stairway and a stright stairway from the kitchen. But the most mind-blowing thing about the home is it's basement — it has 10' ceilings and seems to go on for miles. The neighborhood seems to have a lot of kids of roughly the same age as ours, and the home is within walking distance to the new school opening this coming fall. We have an offer in on the home, with the sale of our current home as a contingency.

War of the Decades

We've been very focused on That 70's House since learning The Big House sold... but we learned yesterday that The Big House is back on the market. (We had been wondering why the real estate company's sign had remained in the yard for so long.) I find myself somewhat conflicted -- The Big House is cheaper up front, but I think we'd end up spending as much as we would on That 70's House once you factor in putting in an upstairs bathroom. The Big House is also outdated — it's 1960's origins are really apparent in some places. Still, a lot of room and plenty of formal touches -- the living room has double-doors that open directly into the dining room, and it's even got an entrance and food prep area that must have been designed for staff. How cool is THAT?!

That 70's House is full of lovely upgrades, but still has some original fixtures — for example, I think all of the shower enclosures in the four full baths are original, and the glass rattles in each of them. That 70's House also has a giant sunken tub in the master bath — it's a little ridiculous, but it looks fun and I wanna try it out. The owners are in their 70's, I think — I can't believe they're still using it. At least, not without setting a step ladder down into it first. Laurel's afraid she's gonna stumble over the edge of that tub one evening and really hurt herself. I can't really say I blame her for being a little wary of it. At the same time, though, the sinks on the first and second floors are all very stylish and modern and fun. Some are hammered copper, others are glass; these contrast with the hickory-style wood with emphasized grain (SO MUCH WOOD) throughout the home, particularly in the kitchen.

Selling Our Home

Of course, nothing about these other homes will matter if we can't get our home sold first. We had an open house last weekend that was very, very well attended, and we've had one showing so far this week. None of this seems to be moving fast enough, and I'm sure once it does we'll be wishing things would slow down.



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2017.06.24Says She's Got the Body for It

image from DC Comics' new Wonder Woman movie staring Gal Galdot

Kiddo, on Halloween plans:

"I'm gonna be Wonder Woman this year. I've totally got the body for it."



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2017.05.11Nope. Not even close.

Photo of a Stretch Armstrong figure

Photo of a Stretch Armstrong figure

Kiddo: "OMG! Louis Armstrong!"



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2017.03.31"Hello Baby"

image of a text alert with the words

My daughter received a text from a classmate last night (read: from another 11 year old). It read, "Hello baby."

"Try again" was the response I sent.

"That was my dad" was the follow-up response Laurel sent.

There was no reply.

I recognize that moments like these are going to shape, or determine, what kind of dad I'm going to be to our teen. And I admit that the more I think about it, the more I want to march over to the kid's house and speak with his parents.

What would I say? I just want them to have some situational awareness. How they handle it in their home is their concern.

What my kid receives on her phone is my concern.



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2017.03.23Dissed Me Off!

Yaya: "I hear the hold music, and then it went quiet. So I think, 'okay, I'm going to get my answer.' And then the music starts again! I think she was trying to diss me off!"



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2017.03.09On Beginning Her Day

Kiddo told us the other day that she was going to start setting her alarm for 6:30 AM, "so she can begin her day."

I'm still the only one awake at 6:30.



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2017.03.06All Hail Jesus

Kiddo is describing attendance at mass this past weekend.

Me: "Did you have to say things while you were standing and kneeling?"
Kiddo: "Oh yes."
Me: "Like what?"
Kiddo: "Like 'all hail Jesus' and 'Aw man' and stuff."



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2017.03.04The Lumchop

Image of the man on the old Brawny paper towel logo

Kiddo offering fashion advice on my beard: I should "do a lumchop."

Me:"A what?"
Kiddo:"A lumchop. You know, those guys in the plaid shirts who chop wood."



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2017.02.27The Day Has Arrived

Photo of a shark jumping out of the water

Well, it's happened. I'd heard nasty rumors that kiddo had develped hair in her pits, which meant we were on a six month clock for... this.

Kiddo dutifully reported, with a measure of pride, that she'd had some spotting yesterday. And just like that, Operation Shark Week went into effect. She went to school today with a few extra items in her backpack.

I'm not having an easy time with the news. For as much of a hypochondriac as she has been, I fear she'll become a "regular" in the school nurse's office again (she described the new nurse this year as an 'A-hole,' by the way).

I can't imagine the amount of Zoloft the middle school nurse must be taking.



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2017.02.19Hamsters make her uncomfortable

Image of a Hamster emoji

Kiddo: "I bet a turtle can eat a hamster. Hamsters make me uncomfortable."



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2017.01.31Questions about Adult Toys

This just happened not five minutes ago.

Kiddo:"What's a dildo?"
Laurel (about to join a conference call):{pauses} "We can talk about this later."
{Pauses again, calls upstairs to me} "Do you want to take this one?"

One of her buddies asked her if she was going to get one when she gets her own apartment.



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2017.01.22Deez Nuts

On the phone with Kiddo.

Laurel:"Have you had lunch? What would you like?"
Kiddo:(pause) "Deez nuts."



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2017.01.22Play Like a Champion Today

Laurel to Kiddo: "You know, you're 11. When Simone Biles was 11, she was winning medals. I'm pretty sure you can handle your room."

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2017.01.14Papa's Got a Brand New... Place

Papa has been moved out of the hospital and into new quarters in a care facility.

We were surprised that they decided to move him so quickly, particularly because there's an ice storm that's about to blanket the entire state. Happily, he's moved in, and seems to be improving.

During today's visit, I heard him introduce himself and say a few coherent sentences, like, "Please, sit down in this chair."

His mood seemed a fair amount brighter, and he also seemed very happy to see me. At the hospital, the attending physician changed his medication in hopes it might even out his mood swings.

His new room seems nice. He has a lovely bay window right across from his bed. His room is roughly 30' x 30', has a wardrobe, a small chest of drawers, and a nightstand. It reminded me very much of life in the barracks, but with nicer furniture and wood accents.

His room is actually part of a suite of sorts, partitioned from the other occupant by curtains. I understand these quarters are temporary, and he'll move into a different room by himself later on as space becomes available. At this point, I think we're all just very thankful he's out of the hospital.

The only thing I'm beginning to become concerned about is that when he sees me, he seems to talk about things that aggravate him. I wonder if he does that with the other (female) family members too?



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2017.01.10On Aging: Front Row Tickets to a Tragedy

I watched him leave.

It was all so subtle.

Think of the mind as a corporation, with divisions and departments, staffed by atomic characteristics of a person. A creative division that is in charge of all creative pursuits, run by the creative portion of the mind; it is home to fantastic ideas and concepts of art and magic and color. An accounting department that tracks that person's financial affairs. The entire enterprise of the person is controlled in the mind. Like economics, the enterprise is influenced by circumstances, people, life.

His corporation was suffering from attrition. The staff in the various divisions and departments weren't being responsive to the needs of the enterprise.

It started within the Communications Division. The workers responsible for researching nouns stopped doing their research. So he had a harder time to find the nouns he needs to effectively communicate those wonderful ideas.

The database staff in his IT department started leaving, so his ability to record and retreive information wasn't keeping pace. Soon, he wasn't remembering those wonderful ideas.

We saw it. We saw it all. It started with a few, memory-driven words. Eventually vocabulary became decoupled from concepts. He knew a chair was the thing you sit on; the word "chair" came to escape him, but he still understood the concept of "the thing you sit on," and would seek a replacement word for "chair" which would communicate the same idea. Then, the secondary words became out of reach. At times, he can manage words with similar pronunciations ("hair" instead of "chair")... at times, all he has is partial pronunciation, which may or may not make sense — the end result might be unintelligible. And so, "chair" and "the thing you sit on" may not appear to have any connection at times.

At a higher level, vocabulary is becoming reduced to sounds. Or idioms. Or fragments of these. He's called his daughter "Gravy." The other, "Ohio." ("Ohio" might have been a replacement for "Hi"?) When his doctor asked him how he was feeling, he replied, "Fi fi fo fum dogs." No association.

What we have left are clues to intention. Some days, he can communicate effectively, but what he's saying seem to be products of delusion. In other words, he's using actual words to convey ideas, but whether they're the ideas he truly intends to convey is anyone's guess. Sleuthing comes into play.

In the disarray between communication and memory, all of those atomic elements that made him are fading. Fading until all that will remain is the machinery of a being; a body that functions. A man no longer greater than the sum of his parts.

His daughter has abandoned hope that her dad is still there someplace. She tells me that her dad would be mortified if he knew what he's become. I believe she's right about her dad's reaction. And I feel that she's perhaps making this projection to protect herself; she feels such tremendous sorrow for his state.

For my part, I attend. I visit him with her. He seems to recognize me; not by anything he says, but by his expression. It's like he doesn't know who I am, but he can recognize that I'm someone who is associated with him. Perhaps I'm much the same — difference being I can express it here.

Last week we spent a little time searching his home. Objects have been misplaced, and we need to find them. In some cases, he hid them. The trouble is, there's no way he'll recall his hiding spots — or, at least, be able to communicate any recollection he might have. And so I find myself sifting through the evidence of his life, of his liveliness. All of these objects attest to those certain atomic elements I mentioned earlier. They were there once. They operated on these things; made these things into crafts and art and expressions of beauty and passion and love.



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2017.01.09Dinosaur Pants on the Dog

Nothing peps up a Monday like putting dinosaur pants on the dog.

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2017.01.01Bathroom Etiquette

"If life with women hasn't taught you to close the lid on the toilet after each use, life with kittens will." #advicefrom2016

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2016.12.26Livin' on a Prayer

Kiddo is singing "Livin' on a Prayer" to the cats

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2016.12.18Taste : Smell :: Snot : Pennies

"My snot doesn't taste like how pennies smell, I guess."

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2016.09.21Don't Be Rude

Overheard: "I'm glad you had such a good time tonight. You need to stop humping Chloe's face, okay?"

Guidance Laurel was giving the pup, who had a play date this evening.



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2016.09.10Things are going well, I guess

Technology is great. Laurel just scrawled and sent "KILL ME" on her Apple watch, so I know things are going well at Lily's health class.



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2016.09.06Relative Relationships

Thoughts like "It's finally over" and "we made it" shouldn't be coming to mind at the close of a family vacation.

But after Laurel's parents were dropped off at their home and we sped toward ours, I heard thoughts like those — and worse.

Our ten year old confessed to taking a pillow with her into the hotel bathroom and screaming into it to vent the rage she felt by what she described as a constant assault (my words, not hers) of the words "art" and "program," and the letters N, P, and R. This was undoubtedly her grandmother's unintentional attack.

Kiddo's description brought a few things to mind.

The first is that my daughter may have started that war, in her eagerness to relate. I seem to recall only two nights before she couldn't wait to tell her grandma all about the YouTube channels she follows.

I know a little bit about YouTube. I can say that there's a difference between the knowledge an adult can gain about YouTube from research and from other adults, and the knowledge an adult can gain about YouTube from a "tweenager."

Don't think for a minute that grandma didn't consider taking a header off of that third floor balcony. If there's one thing our little girl can do now, it's talk — seemingly free of the bond between earth and man known as respiration.

(Laurel is careful to remind me that at some point in her teen years, kiddo is going to think I'm stupid and won't talk to me at all.

At times I wonder if that will happen soon.)

So I should work with our little girl to suggest that her grandmother was trying to relate, much like how she was trying to relate to grandma about YouTube.

The second thing that came to mind was memories of summer dinners on my grandparents' back porch, and my grandmother excitedly pointing out various birds as they visited the feeders in the yard.

I was six. In 1975, I watched Batman on WXON-20 and Spider-Man on WKBD-50, both broadcast out of Detroit, when the weather was good. On Saturday mornings, I was watching the Superfriends.

I was in second grade in 1975. Here's some second grade math for you: How many sh*ts did I give about the birds in grandma's backyard?

The answer is zero.

Today, I am 47 years old. I have a backyard. Birds visit it. We even have a cardinal that nests in a large burning bush at my back door. I know that bird is a cardinal because I watch it, and because my grandmother taught me that birds that look like that one are cardinals. My grandmother also taught me how to differentiate between the males and females.

For me, it was about timing. The timing to share grandma's joy about birds wasn't right for me at six. Honestly, I probably still don't, to the level they brought her joy. But when I have the time to watch them, I think about her fondly.

I need to be more mindful about that kind of timing. I know I jam all kinds of crap into my daughter's head. (Laurel has taught her how to respond to me in a kind way that isn't outright telling me to go play in traffic.) Some of it sticks.

Later on maybe she'll realize that a lot of it stuck.

I'm not asking her to appreciate it now. Or ever, I guess.

So, bringing this back around... I have to think about the ways in which my daughter tries to relate to me.

I've been playing a console game for awhile called DESTINY. For reasons I can't explain, one of kiddo's other parents let her buy a copy of that game, and it is her great hope that we two play it together.

I'm horrified by the idea. On one hand, she's taken something that was really the only thing I had to myself for a while and destroyed it. (Yes, there's a part of me that really looks at it that way.) And that happened because her other dad seems to offer no guidance at all. I'm beyond offended. On the other hand, this is a game that I feel is a bit advanced for her and her age. But, here we are. So to fill her heart, I'm going to have to create a new character, I guess, and walk her through playing this game. I already know I'm going to spend much more time explaining than I will actually playing.

There is so much about this that I am really against; and maybe I can yet find some other (acceptable) game instead. I just have to remember that the object of the exercise is for her to be able to relate to me.



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2016.09.01Swiss Army Knives

Kiddo: "Swiss Army knives make me want to eat cheese."



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2016.08.31A Balanced Meal (Right?)

We're at IHOP for dinner because I'm a responsible dad.

Kiddo orders the red velvet pancakes.

What? You want icing AND syrup? Oh, that's gonna cost ya...

She is now working her way through a glass of grapefruit juice.



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2016.08.30Maturing her Vocabulary

Kiddo: "Our new school nurse is an 'a-hole.'"



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2016.08.25Growing Evidence of Maturity, Part I

My little girl is growing up.

She confided to mommy the other day that one of her breasts seems larger than the other. Totally normal.

THEN she told her about the other thing: her.... eh... *sigh*

her potty otter.

Her forest of smelly branches.

Her vagina sweater.

Jeebus, the room is spinning.

Laurel offered details of the developments.

Oh, dad's not doing well.



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2016.08.25Growing Evidence of Maturity, Part II

Oh, dad's not doing well.

I've written from time to time about aging from the perspective of watching our daughter mature, and I've poked fun at myself for not being ready for the changes happening before our eyes.

But now I want to write a bit about learning how to prepare myself for changes happening in our parents.

I received a tremendous gift recently, in that something I said — in fun — actually caused my mother to rethink her position on retirement living. I'm overjoyed to report that she'll be moving into a community in the coming weeks. A community which she found to be vibrant and alive and open and eager for involvement and interaction. I couldn't be happier.

The story is different with Laurel's folks. Despite Laurel's efforts to find them a lovely place, her mother simply was not willing to give up their independence. The cost, we fear, is that they've missed the window in which Papa would successfully transition into a new environment. His dementia has become sufficiently acute that a couple days ago he had no memory at all, and was terrified. I suspect her strategy was to hang onto their house for as long as they could, but now he's completely dependent upon her, and her strength is failing. We help when we can, by bringing Papa over here to "help around the house." We give him chores to keep him occupied, believing he appreciates the change of scenery and I'm sure she appreciates the break as well.

We've agreed to take them on a family vacation in the fall. More than anything, I want this to be a special trip for Laurel, full of lovely memories of time with her father; also, for kiddo, full of lovely memories of her with her Papa.



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2016.08.17Dat Hot Sauce

Depending on how much hot sauce the kitchen wants to use, Old Chicago might consider renaming their Double-Decker Pepperoni pizza to "The Punisher."



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2016.08.16The Chosen One

Kiddo: "I'm the chosen one."

... continues, describing how the janitor threw an extra peanut butter and jelly sandwich at her and her friend at lunch.



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2016.07.23"Veggie"

From Laurel:

Kiddo:"My underwear is up my crack both ways."
Laurel:"Did you know that when its like that in the back its called a wedgie. Do you know what it's called in the front?"
Kiddo:"A veggie?"



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2016.07.20"Boyfriend Beater?"

Clothes shopping with kiddo. Showed her a spaghetti strap top that might be nice for dressier occasions (family events, not school); she dismissed it immediately, calling it a "boyfriend beater."

I stepped out of the store.



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2016.07.20She's Not Lacking Confidence

Our server sets a plate at our table, saying, "Pretty hot, okay?"

Me (to Laurel): "Pretty sure she was talking about you."
Laurel (to me): "Pretty sure she was talking about YOU."
Kiddo: "Pretty sure she was talking about ME!"



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2016.07.16Syrup and Bread

Kiddo has a friend we've nicknamed "Syrup," because on the night we met her, we noticed that she had written "S Y R U P" in ink on her hand as if it were a knuckle tattoo. We were so struck by this that it's going to be her nickname forever.

Syrup (to Kiddo): "Oh yeah. And I made up a song about bread. The only word in the whole song is 'bread.'"

These two are gonna be friends for life.



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2016.07.09YEAH, BABY THAT'S WHERE IT'S AT

Kiddo's catching us up on her week.

Kiddo: "We've got this glove sack--"
Me and Laurel: "GLOVE SACK! BABY GLOVE SACK!! GLOVE, BABY, THATS WHERE ITS AT! YEAH!!"
Kiddo: --



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2016.07.05So Hard to Say Goodbye to Kitty

I stood before the desk, wiping tears and hiccupping breaths, as I presented the poor girl the unhappy animal, and spoke its name. The young technician robotically retrieved a clipboard from the wall — it already bore the name that I spoke — and clinically asked me to initial and sign the paper it held.

She was every bit as uncomfortable facing me as I felt appearing before her. I thought I had sufficiently steeled myself as I lifted the kitty into the carrier and quickly made my way out of the house. Laurel was on a phone call — it was a perfect time to quietly smuggle her out. The whole point of the exercise — well, the second point, anyway — was to execute in such a way that nothing about this would come to Laurel’s mind. I placed kitty in the car, moved to the driver’s side, and was about to back out when Laurel emerged from the house and mouthed to me that she wanted to say goodbye. In the instant I took the car out of gear my steel facade fell to the floorboard like a crumpled fast-food napkin. And so I stood before the girl in the pink scrubs ten minutes later, sobbing and looking like I’d been awake for days.

A few minutes later I was back in the car. I didn’t want to be present for the procedure; I didn’t want to wait for the carrier — I told them I’d come back later to pick it up. As I drove home I figured I’d better pick up some lunch — more for a lame attempt at misdirection than as a function of actual hunger.

When I returned, Laurel answered the door and she looked every bit as bad as did I. I had failed to smuggle out kitty without detection — this scene was precisely what I was trying to avoid. Through her tears she thanked me repeatedly for braving the awful task.

Well, I wasn’t so brave. But the deed is done. Done out of love and respect and in the hope that she’s sleeping peacefully, no longer tormented by whatever prompted her screams. Laurel and I had convinced ourselves that some product of her dementia was scaring the Hell out of her every day and every night, and allowing the torture to continue was something we could not abide.

If nothing else, I hope I appeared to the technician as a man who really loved this cat. I do.

Kitty had enjoyed a good morning — and minutes before had been curled up in her box. The sunshine streamed through the window beside it and bathed her in light and warmth.

We miss you so.



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2016.07.03She's Gonna Be Rough on Boyfriends

Kiddo's "dinner date" is backing out on her.

(Her "date" is actually a 20-something coworker of our "other daughter," who is also attending.)

Kiddo sounds pretty okay with it, but she did end the conversation with "Don't get blown up."



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2016.06.26Remaro

Kiddo has decided the voice in the guidance system in our car is called "Remaro".



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2016.06.25Uh, Why Do You Ask?

"Mommy, what's laxative?"



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2016.06.23First Family Road Trip

It's our first family road trip. We've arrived at the hotel, and I'm watching kiddo unpack:

  • sleep masks (2)
  • balls (3) for juggling
  • a dog and a cat action figure
  • a flashlight
  • a (broken) Fitbit
  • stamp with the letter Q on it
  • keys (for her diary)
  • the diary
  • a hair tie, wrapped around a Matchbox car which bears the number 4

"So if the power goes out, you can practice your juggling."

*wipes eyes*



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2016.06.12Butt Rocket

Kiddo (on her dinner order):"I'm gonna switch it up. I'm going with a bean burrito with cheese. Because I'm gonna sit next to you [at the movie], and I've got a 'butt rocket.'"



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2016.05.11Hardcore on the Sour Cream

Kiddo, passing instructions on her lunch order: "... And don't go easy on the sour cream. Go hardcore."



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2016.05.09Snot Nasal Drip

Kiddo (to pediatrician):"I've had snot nasal drip for a while."



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2015.11.28So, Ham, Then?

Me: "What did you have for dinner?"
Kiddo: "Ham. Not honey baked ham. Just regular, bitter, old, chewy ham."


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2015.11.28Pickles. After the Ham, I Guess

Kiddo is only nine, but tonight she's farting like a 50 year-old after a Taco Bell binge.

At one point — amid a LOT of giggles — she squealed, "It smells like pickles!"



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2015.11.25No, Honey, That's a Bomb

Kiddo: "Here, buddy! Let me just put this between us, and we'll be safe!" *plants proximity bomb* *kills her buddy*

Playing the new Battlefront game. She may have some learning to do, but she sure is cute when she talks to the TV!



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2015.11.23NOBODY does that

I'm positive I just heard kiddo say to Laurel, "Don't put baby in a corner."



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2015.11.22Maxwell's Silver Hammer

Kiddo: "Get out of here, fly! Before I smash you with my hands of awesomeness!"


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2015.11.15Damn Right, It's Better Than Yours

While trying on a new dress in a department store:

Kiddo: "I'm going to bring all the boys to the yard, Mommy!"


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2015.11.11Nasty

I'm cleaning things off of kiddo's bedroom floor.

Me: (horrified) "Is this a BAND-AID?!"
Kiddo: "What?! It doesn't have any padding on it."
Me: "YOU'RE NOT HELPING!"


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2015.11.09She Didn't Care for the Horse Mayonnaise

When kiddo doesn't pack her lunch, I will pack it and throw in some red herrings:

Me: "How was lunch? What didn't you like about it?"
Kiddo: "The chopsticks and the horse mayonnaise."


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2015.11.09Right in the Feels

Had just tucked kiddo in for the night when I heard, from her bedroom:

Kiddo: "Thank you, Dad."
Me: "For what?"
Kiddo: "Everything."


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2015.11.04Syrup RAWKS

Kiddo has a kindred spirit in her friend at school. I know this by the "S Y R U P" knuckle "tattoo" (written in ball point pen) on her left hand.

Not even kidding.



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2015.11.04Disabled Just Because I Look 40?

Overheard:

Laurel:"Nobody's disabled just because they look 40."


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2015.11.01Just Say NO

Kiddo is watching the Giants/Saints game. When Laurel asked whom she's rooting for, Kiddo pointed to the score. "I'm going for New York, because for the other team it says 'NO.'"



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2015.11.01Gimme Some Bras, Bruh!

I'm describing to kiddo all of the clean laundry she now has.

Kiddo:"Gimme some bras, bruh!"

Uhh...



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2015.11.01Well, THAT Backfired!

Kiddo is in the kitchen sorting out last night's candy haul (thoughtfully, to distribute family favorites). I'm in the laundry room when kiddo asks, "Where do suckers go?"

Thinking I'll have a little fun at her expense, I planned to reply, "In the kitchen!"

Didn't happen that way:

Me:"I know where suckers go!"
Kiddo:"Up your butt?"

Ow.



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2015.10.29The Center for Missing and Exploded Children

The morning news was running a story involving a man from the Center for Missing and Exploited Children.

Some misunderstood his introduction:

Kiddo: (horrified look) Missing and exploded...??!"


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2015.10.25Spin the Bottle

We're at breakfast this morning when kiddo mentions her friend's "Spin the Bottle" app.

Forks and faces fell in perfect synchronization.



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2015.10.20We Could Be Nonfiction!

We were talking about attending the midnight showing of the new Star Wars movie.

Laurel: "Would you stay up until midnight to go see the movie?"
Kiddo: "We could be nonfiction!"
Laurel: "What?"
Kiddo: "You know, nonfiction... when animals sleep all day and are up all night?"


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2015.10.19Getting Back to Nature, Part II

Kiddo: "That tree has no leaves. It's bald."


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2015.10.10Getting Back to Nature, Part I

We're at a nature center. I'm talking to kiddo about how this place is just about being among nature; taking in the sights and sounds and smells.

Kiddo: (loudly) "I want to be part of the Blue Man Group."


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2015.10.10Snot Nasal Drip

Kiddo: "I've got some snot nasal drip goin' on."
Me: "Most people say, 'Post-nasal drip.'"
Kiddo: "Well I say it different, because I'm awesome."


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2015.10.09Whippie Goldman

For some reason that eludes me now, I was talking to kiddo about Whoopi Goldberg...

Kiddo: "I don't know Whippie Goldman."


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2015.10.04Appropriate Music

Kiddo and Laurel were talking about recording artists and concerts. I stayed quiet... to a point.

Kiddo: "Is Snoop Dogg appropriate?"
Me: "OH HELL NO."


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2015.10.02Cold Lunch, Courtesy of The Villiage People

Kiddo is making her lunch. Singing to the tune of "Y.M.C.A.":

Kiddo: "I'm gonna do some PEEEEEEEEEE BEEE and JAY! I'm gonna do some PEEEEEE BEEEE and JAY..."


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2015.09.30Random Randomness

Kiddo: "It was random! Like ME!"


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2015.09.29Reaching for the Stars

Kiddo: "With that kind of a fake sneeze, maybe I'll get to meet Jennifer Lawrence!"


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2015.09.28P-I-S-T

Yes, kiddo, continued misbehavior really WOULD make us P-I-S-T.



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2015.09.28Egg Nog Soup

Chinese cuisine tonight. Kiddo is all about the "egg nog soup."



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2015.09.28New Recorder

Kiddo brought home her new recorder today. I am confident she'll be over it by the weekend.

And that's good, because then I won't have to feed it to the puppy.



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2015.09.24'Cause it's Her OCD, Baby

Kiddo (singing, while making her sandwich for lunch tomorrow): "MAKE IT THE WAY IT'S SPODA BE... 'CAUSE IT'S MY OCD, BABY"



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2015.09.18"Thank You To Your Service"

Kiddo thanked a Vietnam Veteran and he gave her a pin from the 4th Army.

She has no idea how much she touches people with her kindness.



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2015.09.17Just Tryin' to Tell You about Knowledge

In the middle of a long, wet day at Disney World, Laurel is trying to convince an exasperated kiddo to go on the Carousel of Progress.

Kiddo: "Do they just try to tell you about knowledge?"


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2015.09.15Tropical Illusion

Kiddo: "It's a tropical illusion!"


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2015.09.15Botched

Only MY KID would turn stuffing items into a knapsack into a corrective breast procedure. #Botched



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2015.09.11As I Slowly Sink into the Booth

Kiddo pretty much just yelled "SUCK IT REAL GOOD!" in the middle of Chili's.



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2015.09.10A Family Company

Kiddo is making her lunch for school tomorrow. She's decided to take some leftover mac & cheese. Here's how I can tell:

Kiddo: "Because life needs mac & cheese. SC Johnson. A family company."


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2015.09.08LEEEEROY JENKINS!

Kiddo just yelled out "LEEEEEEROYYYY JENKINS!!!" from the shower.



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2015.09.07Look Me In the Eye

Laurel: "WOW! Your boobies are getting really big! Both of them!"
Kiddo: "MY EYES ARE UP HERE, WOMAN!"


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2015.09.04...And the Hits Keep On Comin'

Kiddo: "Mommy, you smell like Sausage McMuffins. In a good way."


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2015.09.03You Were One of those Kids I Feel Bad For

Kiddo: "Oh mommy. You were one of those kids I feel bad for."


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2015.09.01Know the Risks

Kiddo: "Well, that's the dangers of tetherball. You could get hurt. Or you could vomit."


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2015.08.29Dress? Justice? WHAT DID SHE JUST SAY?!?!

Kiddo: "I saw a dress at Justice that I liked."

I'm pretty sure I just saw blood drip from Laurel's ear.

On top of using "the 'd' word", she also mentioned JUSTICE?!



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2015.03.12Denugenal

Denugenal (de-nuj-en-al):

  1. Kiddo's misrecollection of the word "delusional."
  2. A new word even better than "delusional," because it adds the dimension of Ted Nugent crazy.

I think it's a keeper!



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2015.03.04There Was Something in the Air That Night

Kiddo: "If I had a police dog, I would name it 'Ornando.'"



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2015.03.02Grammar Gets the Girls, Precious

Kiddo (discussing Laurel's friend): "He hases proper grammar."



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2014.12.2628 Hours

December 25th: Kiddo feels the joy of unwrapping her very own iPhone.

December 26th: Kiddo learns the value of AppleCare, and feels the sorrow of having to replace her iPhone.



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2014.12.16Her Lunch Bag

"My lunch bag? my actual lunch bag? Well, I — I can't believe I'm saying this, but — it smells like CRA— with a 'P' on the end."



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2014.12.16"I'm the 'Gettin' Place' And You're the Customer"

Kiddo is serenading the pups. Tonight's is a medley of "I'm the 'Gettin' Place' And You're the Customer" (First Movement), "You're My Happy Lemonade", and "Shake That Bootie of Yours"/"You Have to Shake That to Make it Right".

Later In the shower, she followed up with "Pantalones" and "Babe Ruth."



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2014.12.13A Public Service Announcement

Kiddo just came home and told me about the "PSA" video she made with her stepbrother. The message was "don't drink and drive because you'll probably kill your child."

So... there's that.



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2014.07.14People Change

Kiddo:"I'm starving, Mommy!"
Laurel:"What?! I just offered you food like 15 minutes ago, and you said you weren't hungry!"
Kiddo:"No, it was more like 20 minutes ago."
Laurel:"Still. You said you weren't hungry."
Kiddo:"People change, Mommy."



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2014.07.13BE A MAN

Kiddo is trying to get the puppy to come visit her. "Sailor, come here! Sailor?! Sailor, stop being so lazy and start being A MAN!!"



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2014.07.13Promises in the Bark

Kiddo: "It's hard to pinky promise a dog. Because they don't have pinkies."



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2014.07.13So Sad

Kiddo: "I was GUSHING cryingness."



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2014.07.06Random Conversation

Kiddo (speaking to the dogs): "Why do I like monkeys? And then YOU say, 'I don't know. I'm just cute.'"



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2014.06.22My Little Pony

Kiddo just declared that that one of the My Little Ponies is an alcoholic.



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2014.06.20Creative Minds

Kiddo is home with a friend. So far they've asked for: rope, paper, two trash bags, a leaf blower, scissors, string, and oats.



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2014.06.07Peace Out!

Laurel just told me that as they left Papa and Yaya's home, Kiddo told Yaya, "Peace out, Girl Scout!"



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2014.05.19Bone of Destiny

Kiddo (to Sailor): "I present you THE BONE OF DESTINY!"



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2014.05.15Yes, You Get Credit

I'd been sipping coffee in bed before I sat up straight. A burp escaped.

Kiddo: "DAD!! That shook CANADA!!"
Me: *blinks*
Kiddo: "Do I get credit for that?"



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2014.05.12"Trick or Treat!"

Kiddo just helped me clean the cat box. Making her say "Trick or Treat!" every time I transferred a clump into the plastic bag she held made the chore way more fun.



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2014.05.12"Don't You Know?"

Kiddo (singing):

Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
Don't you know?
That my butt is hairy?



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2014.05.11It Was My Understanding There Would Be No Math

Kiddo: "I don't do math on the weekends."



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2014.05.11Replica

We took kiddo to the King Tut exhibit in the big city today. This evening as we talked over our day, we told her (admitted, really) that everything she saw at the exhibit was a replica.

We explained why that was the case, and what a replica was — I used the example of my wristwatch: I pointed to it and labeled it the original, then asked her to suppose another watch was placed on my other wrist that looked just like the original — to which kiddo replied, "Don't you wish your girlfriend was HOT like me? Don't you wish your girlfriend was COOL like me?"



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2014.05.09Casual Day Hottie

Kiddo just walked up behind me and said, "Well hello, casual day hottie!"



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2014.05.08Tattoos

Take the time to talk to your kids about tattoos.

Even if you're on your way out the door for work, and at the time, you really had no intention of taking the time to talk to your kid about tattoos.



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2014.05.07Have a Good Day at Work, Dad!

This morning as I entered my car to drive to work, I turned to see kiddo waving goodbye in the dining room window. I started waving back when she mooned me.

That's my girl.



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2014.04.24Giggle Words

Kiddo just used a naughty term. She told us that one of her friends calls other kids... this word. It's not a nice thing to say, but it's not horrible.

As a parent, I completely disapprove.

As, well, the rest of me, I think its completely hilarious right now.



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2014.04.11It's a Tough Decision to Make

Kiddo (reacting to a TV ad): "That toilet costs $100?"
Laurel: "$149. You can buy that toilet for $149."
Kiddo: "I know what I want to save up for. I want to buy that toilet!"
Laurel: "What?! I thought you wanted to save up to by a football player!"

She's talked for years about buying a football player. It's a stunning turn of events.



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2014.04.09The Joys of a Visit from Nana

We're discussing when might be a good time for Nana to visit again. Laurel jokingly suggested late August, which is when she goes to California to visit some friends.

Kiddo objected:

"Nuh uh!! Then only me and dad will feel the pain!!"



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2014.04.08Yes, You Do, Sweetheart

Kiddo: "I sure grow up fast sometimes."



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2014.04.07More 'Talk Thirty to Me'

Kiddo continues to explain "Talk Thirty to Me":

Diamond don't need a sprayded
Bootie don't need a splaindid
Talk thirty to me



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2014.03.30Jeff

Kiddo:""I caught a little lizard yesterday. Know what I named him? Jeff."



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2014.03.30Talk Thirty to Me

Kiddo:"Mom, can you get me this song? It goes, 'bump-ba-da-ba-bump-bump talk thirty to me."



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2014.03.26She's Anti-.

Kiddo:"YEAAAAH BOYYYYYYYYYYYYY!."
Laurel:"Oh, you're so 'gangsta.'"
Kiddo:"I know. I'm anti. Like anti-bacterial."



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2014.03.23Older Ladies Got the Sweet Rides

This just in from Laurel: "[Kiddo] just told this lady in the car next to us 'Sweet ride.' Then, by way of explanation to me, she said, 'She was an older lady. They probably said that back then.'"

Laurel estimates the woman was in her 40's or 50's.

:/



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2014.03.22Didn't Know That Was a 'Thing'

Kiddo:"He has '80's hair'."
Laurel:"70's hair."
Kiddo:"That's what I meant."
Laurel:"You didn't even know about the 70's, did you?"
Kiddo:"Nope. I didn't even know that was a 'thing.'"



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2014.03.21Denathanization

Kiddo is home from a week away— but it's going to take a while to get her back to being herself — she's spent too long in the company of her step-brother; the process is to get her "Denathanized." She came in the house wearing a God-awul "gangsta"-style ballcap (we'll make sure that gets lost in a HURRY) and a giant dog chain around her neck. And she just told Laurel, "Yoga pants suck."

We'll get that fixed right away.



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2014.03.10Her Negotiation Skills are Improving

Laurel:"I'll give you a quarter if you run out to the car and find my phone."
Kiddo:"I was thinkin' more like a dollar."



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2014.03.10Bad Guy, Huh?

We are completely blessed to live where we do, among the people we do.

Last night became a celebration of the coming of spring — a bunch of us gathered on a neighbor's porch while the kids all played together. It the awesome gift of the time change — darker in the mornings again but we've got daylight later.

The kids' favorite game together has got to be "Ghosts in the Graveyard". Basically it's a team-based Hide and Seek, except it's done at night.

One of our neighbors sent Laurel a text a short while ago, describing a point in the evening in which her daughter was banging on the shed of the house next door, which is home to a ten year-old boy.

The text explained that the ten year-old and kiddo were locked in the shed, and that she was trying to get them out.

wut

We asked kiddo about it this morning — her side of the story: "Lee" locked them both in there and said they were the "bad guys."

Now you have to know that this makes me all kinds of curious. Particularly that he chose to describe himself as a "bad guy."

New rule: No going into any place with a boy. Girls are fine — boys, not okay.



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2014.03.07Give a Kid Some Coffee...

Kiddo: "Am I turning into a grown-up? Am I 85?"



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2014.03.07That's Not Really How It Works

Kiddo: "The world record for someone getting pregnant... she was 5! And the baby came out when she was 8!!"



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2014.03.05The Line Between Game and Pets Isn't Clear Enough

Kiddo: "If we cooked Bartlett [our dog], we'd have to cut off his skin tags first."



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2014.03.03That Must Have Been Painful

Kiddo noticed a rubber chicken hung from a car antenna.

"Look! It's like my chicken — except mine didn't get stabbed in the balls."



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2014.02.21The Demise of Innuendo

So, we're doing some tidying up in the household this morning when...

Laurel: "You need to put your balls away."
Kiddo: "Awww."
Laurel: (smirks) "Dad needs to put his balls away later on."

We have a history of making smart remarks like this. No more:

Kiddo: "All dad has to do to put his balls away is put pants on."



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2014.02.19Must the Show Go On?

Kiddo sprained her thumb yesterday; it's in a splint. Three sets of eyes were on the X-rays and they finally determined there's no fracture. It's important to note that she was out of school for most of the day getting this looked at.

Today I'm told that the same bad-ass kid who even rode on a motorcycle last night with her thumb in a splint suddenly became hobbled and addled with intense pain this morning just *steps* from her daycare door — like she even somehow developed A LIMP.

What a big faker.



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2014.02.18Missed Me, Missed Me, Now You Gotta Kiss Me!

We've turned "missed me, missed me, now you gotta kiss me" into a game at our house. Whenever kiddo says that phrase, Laurel and I drop whatever we're doing and chase her around the house until we catch her and cover her with smooches while she giggles like crazy. We've done this for years.

We haven't done this in a while, and I'd feared that we had lost our game, like so many other cute things, to maturity — until tonight when kiddo uttered the phrase while I was doing dishes. About part way through, she realized what she was saying, and we exchanged a look. She grinned, finished her sentence, and then immediately took off up the stairs.

Seeming confident she hadn't been followed, she crept back down the stairs. When she was almost at the bottom, I tore out of an upstairs bedroom and loudly raced down the stairs behind her.

Eight-year-olds scream very differently than five year-olds do.

I'd better think it through the next time I decide to go all "Sully Sullivan" on her again!



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2014.02.18Act Normal!

Kiddo (at a restaurant): "There's a BIKER! Act normal. And say 'hi.'"



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2014.02.05I'm in the Mouth

I'm working from home today. I'd told kiddo earlier that we were SO CLOSE to getting something important done at work that I could "almost taste it."

At the time, she was nibbling on some almonds, and placed one at her lips and asked, "Like this?"

I agreed.

So when one of my teammates showed me evidence of the breakthrough we were looking for, I high-fived kiddo. She then asked, "Are you in the mouth?"

Uh... yes, I believe so!



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2014.02.05Have a Piece of Pi

Kiddo:"What comes after three?"
Me:"Four."
Kiddo:"Pi!"
Me(thinking she's making a joke about PIE): "You're right! Pi is actually 3.14, so yes, that's greater than 3."
Kiddo:"3.14159."
Me:*mind blown*



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2014.02.04OH NO HE IS NOT

Kiddo has a little Hot Wheels motorcycle and a small Lego guy with a helmet on.

Kiddo:Here's my Harley-Davidson 'crotch rocket.' This guy rides it because he has a helmet."
Me::-)
Kiddo:"Actually, he's not riding it. He's making out with it."
Me::-/



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2014.02.03Dynamite



Kiddo:"I drew 'TNT' on here."
Laurel:"No, you didn't."



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2014.02.03Word of the Day: "Clench."

Kiddo:"Whenever people get freaked out, their booties go in."



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2014.02.03Special Delivery

This one's my fault too. Back at Christmas, I was joking with kiddo about what "presents" the cat might have put in her stocking. I told her to keep an eye out for long, rectangular boxes.

So of course when a long, rectangular box arrived for me this afternoon...

Kiddo:"Dad, it looks like someone sent you a hot dog. Or a turd."



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2014.02.02Can't Wait 'Til She Tells Her Classmates

Kiddo calls. I overhear Laurel say, "You.... you paid $200 for... what are you going to do with two pairs of handcuffs?!"

The real story: She'd apparently gone to a kids' restaurant similar to a Chuck E. Cheese — but instead of awarding tickets to exchange for prizes, they used a card system — so she thought she essentially had a credit card, and therefore was earning dollars.

Why she exchanged her winnings for cheap handcuffs is another matter entirely.



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2014.01.28Yes, I said REAR

Talking tonight about cars, I mentioned "rear wheel drive".

Kiddo:"You said REAR like in 'rear end'!"
Me:"Right! A car has front wheels and..." (trailing off for her to finish)
Kiddo:"BACK WHEELS!"
Fine.



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2014.01.28Aim High, Honey

Me:"So, who do you like now?"
Kiddo:"Jake. He looks at me funny and he has eczema."



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2014.01.28Good Night, Kitty

Kiddo, as we're putting her to bed: "Say goodnight to Maya [the cat] for me. Say goodnight to 'Sweet Apple.' That's my nickname for her. Or 'Bench.'"



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2013.12.18No, She Doesn't Need to Get Used to That

The puppy gave kiddo a "kiss" on her lips. She was pretty touched by that until Laurel pointed out that he'd been licking his "boy parts" only moments before.

Kiddo's response — after surreptitiously wiping her lips on mommy's nightgown — "I really have to get used to dog ding ding on my lips."



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2013.12.12Guess We Have a New Phrase

Kiddo:"My butt's on FIRE! My butt's on FIRE! A new comedy show featuring MY BUTT'S ON FIRE!!"



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2013.12.07The Violin

Me:"If you could play any instrument, what would it be?"
Kiddo:"The violin. Because I like the way that the fingers move on it, and I like how you pull [the bow] across it, and you have to put your chin down on it like Nana Liz."



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2013.12.04A Girl's Best Friend

Laurel:"What's your favorite of the shapes you've learned about so far?"
Kiddo:"Diamond... because they're so expensive."



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2013.12.03That Matthew Must Be Magical

Kiddo:"I love Matthew&blnExposeOldContent=True&blnSearchWholeWordsOnly=False#20121113" target="_blank">Matthew."
Laurel:"What do you love about him?"
Kiddo:"He's handsome. And he turns his head when he burps."



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2013.12.03What?! She's Never Even SEEN a Poodle!

Kiddo:"If you ever get a message from PoodleLover156, that's me."



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2013.12.03Thanks for the Tip

Kiddo:"The BEST way to throw up is to sing."



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2013.11.27Wardrobe, Assemble!

We're up and getting dressed this morning when I walk by kiddo's room and overhear:

"Activate socks!"



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2013.11.26Maybe You're Doing it Wrong

Kiddo: "When I sit on the floor, I get a rash in my eye."



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2013.11.23Good Talk

Kiddo{partly out of breath from running downstairs}: "You know about our trash can?"
Laurel: -?-
Kiddo:"And Nana?!"
Laurel: -?!-
Kiddo: *eye roll*



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2013.11.21Keep Your Address Current, Kids

Kiddo has lost two teeth in the past few days. She now has gaps around her only mature adult tooth — an incisor right at the front of her mouth. She resembles a Jack-o-Lantern.

Her Nana has been visiting, so Kiddo currently sleeps on an inflatable bed in mommy's office. She wanted to be certain the Tooth Fairy got the change of address:



"I love [the] Tooth Fairy and Santa Claus. I'm in my mom's office."



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2013.11.21FEEL the Eye Roll

Kiddo (to Laurel): *facepalm* "You don't 'get' jokes."



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2013.11.21Shopping is ALWAYS a Good Decision

Kiddo explains to Laurel that "safety money" is money one sets aside for an emergency. (This, in anticipation of a sale at her school in the morning.)

Laurel:"Do you think it's a good idea to use 'emergency money' for the sale?"
Kiddo:{thinking} "Hmmm....Yes."



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2013.11.20When I Can Handle It

Kiddo:"I'm going to tell everybody that I don't like Matthew anymore. Even though I really do still like Matthew."
Me: "Why would you do that?"
Kiddo: "Because I'm sick of everybody teasing me about how I like Matthew."
Me: "Well, are you going to tell Matthew that you still like him first?"
Kiddo: "Mmmm... No."
Me:"I think you should tell him, so he won't believe the things he hears from other people. You should do that before you tell the others."
Kiddo:"Ahh... Okay."
Me:Well, when are you going to tell him?"
Kiddo:"When I'm ten... when I can handle it."



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2013.11.19On Motivation

Kiddo was talking about Minecraft.

Me:"Have you played the game?"
Kiddo:"No. I just draw [Minecraft characters] to impress boys."



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2013.11.13Pain is a Pretty Good Reminder

Kiddo has a loose tooth and is trying to pull it out herself.

This morning, with her fingers in her mouth, she said, "I never felt so alive!"



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2013.10.05The Eagle Has Landed

Kiddo just described herself as a constipated eagle.

I don't know where she gets it from.



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2013.10.03Crispy Lizard

Kiddo brought home a guest from school this evening.

She first met him last night. He actually startled her as we made our way to the car. At first I thought it was a wayward ribbon of duct tape that just appeared to have features.

I thought she'd forgotten about him until I saw him in a large, clear plastic bag when I picked her up this afternoon. Kiddo and her friend were arguing over who got to take him home.

But neither of us (parents) wanted a crispy lizard as a house guest.

Before I knew it, kiddo had it in the car and was telling me she would hide it from Laurel. And as I drove us home I already knew the expired guest's time in our home would be very short.

Fast-forward to later in the evening. I excused myself from kiddo's reading exercises to look for this thing in her room. After a couple of moments, I found it at the corner of her desk, still in its protective case.

I didn't just need to remove it; I wanted to remove it and discourage her from similar adventures in the future.

How do I do that?

Why, let kiddo come back into her room to think the lizard has escaped it's plastic bag, of course!

So I bring the lizard downstairs. As I considered a means of disposal, my bladder suggested we visit the bathroom.

So, guy walks into a bathroom with a baggie and a dead lizard...

So now I'm facing the bowl. I lift the seat up with one hand and am holding the crisp guest in the other.

Well, what would you do?

Of COURSE You'd open the baggie and let the former fella drop into the water. Perfect! I can just flush him out of our lives.

Here's where I went wrong — not one to waste water, I did some more emptying before flushing.

Aaaaaaand the lizard didn't go down.

So now, not only do I have a wet, crunchy lizard to fish out of the toilet, I have a wet, crunchy, pee-covered lizard to fish out of the toilet.

Okay, kitchen cabinet. Which cup gets to take one for the team tonight?

Guy walks outside in his underpants with a crispy, pee-soaked lizard in a plastic cup...
Out my back door. I toss the lizard straight into the big trash can. I wash my hands, then grab the baggie and head back upstairs. In kiddo's room, I situate the body-free baggie with the mouth wide open, then head back to the family.

Kiddo is still reading. I type a short text to the other parent involved from earlier, and show it to Laurel— this serves as notice that I've disposed of the crispy critter.

As it happens, several of the characters in the e-book kiddo's reading are weird frog-lizard-esque creatures. Laurel starts in.

Laurel:"If you had a lizard, where would you keep it?"
Kiddo:"In my room."
Laurel:"Even if it was dead?"
Kiddo:"Yes."
Laurel:"Do you have a dead lizard in your room?"
Kiddo:"I don't really want to talk about this anymore."
With some additional pressure, kiddo comes clean and goes into her room.
Kiddo {after a long silence}: "Dad? Could you come in here for a minute?"

Oh boy.

Kiddo is STANDING on her bed, completely in belief that the lizard has escaped the bag. I pretend to look for it while kiddo goes back into our bedroom and nervously confesses her sins.

Now I'm looking around for something crunchy lizard-like to put in the baggie to show that I've "caught" it. I find some rubber... thing and drop it in the bag, hoping it's dark enough that it might resemble the tail.

As I'm scrounging about, my mother calls. Now, the ringtone I have assigned to my mother's phone number isn't really very nice. It's probably the best scream I've ever heard a man do on a television commercial.

I just wish I could have seen the girls' reaction across the hall: dad's on the hunt for a loose undead lizard when this very loud and long scream is heard from that direction.

... Nice.

(The phone call really did startle me.)

Moments later I appeared in the doorway, clutching the baggie in my fist. The girls expressed relief and gratitude. I trotted back outside (yes, in my underpants... I don't care) and deposited the baggie in the trash can.

DONE.

You know, I can't blame kiddo for her curiosity. It's remarkable how things our kids do make us remember similar things we did as children. I think remembering them helps us understand their motivators and handle the situations more appropriately.

That said, did I handle this appropriately? I scared my little girl into thinking some zombie lizard was roaming her room. Well, okay, I'm exaggerating. I made her think it got out, but then I told her I found it on the floor, and explained it had just fallen out.

And NO, she didn't wake up screaming and crying — which was a completely plausible result. But the actual result was that, though she was a little frightened, she promised not to bring home crispy lizards anymore.

So I'm calling it a win. Even with sacrificing the cup.



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2013.10.02Don't Get Homework Help from These Clowns

Buncha sea-lawyers at kiddo's day care.

We overheard several wildly incorrect answers to one boy's question about the definition of "compound." One of the responses had something to do with a squirrel.

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2013.09.15She's Not Gonna Take It

Having just finished her homework, kiddo started to sing Twisted Sister's "We're Not Gonna Take It Anymore".

Mind: Blown.

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2013.09.14Little Harley Mama

Kiddo spied a Harley in the parking lot as we were leaving the soccer fields.
*GASP* "Harley! Come to mama!"


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2013.09.12Girl's Gotta Do What Girl's Gotta Do

Laurel:"Where are you going?"
Kiddo:"To the bathroom. I'm going to poop. Don't get your hopes up."


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2013.09.11Good Point, I Guess

Laurel:"What kind of motorcycle will you get when you get older?"
Kiddo:"Harley."
Laurel:"Not a 'crotch rocket'?"
Kiddo:"No. Disgusting. Who knows how many crotches have been on there?"


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2013.09.10Shower Time

Yes, I said both of these things to kiddo last night, as I scurried about to get her into the shower, out of the shower, or dressed in peejays:
"NO, That's not a place where money belongs."
She's seven and has a dime and a belly button.

"NO, You cannot dry your hair on the dog."
Laurel overheard me say that last one. She was on a video chat with a coworker at the time, and both of them had quite a laugh over it.

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2013.09.07Oh Help

Kiddo:"I almost said the 'H' word."
Me:"'Help'?"
Kiddo:"sHit."
Laurel:"But that starts with 'SH'."
Kiddo:*facepalm*


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2013.09.04PDA

Laurel and I shared a small kiss. Apparently kiddo took exception:
Kiddo: "You two are disgusting."


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2013.08.16The Natural Way of Things, Part III

Just a little follow-up here. I felt it fair to inform you that kiddo admitted to us the other night (on the eve of the first day of school) that she did not achieve her summer goal.

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2013.08.16The Natural Way of Things, Part IV

As is our tradition, we photographed kiddo in front of the house on her first day of school this year. Although I couldn't participate in this next part, Laurel, as is also our tradition, walked kiddo up to school and stood with the other parents as the children sat in queues according to classroom assignment, and saw them off as each file rose and exited the auditorium. Yes, photos are a big part of that — for me, it is customary to get a shot of her seated in line. Laurel was kind enough to take and to send me such a photo.

And in this photo, Kiddo is wearing a little bit of a funny smirk. I found out later it was because she was seated directly behind Matthew&blnExposeOldContent=True&blnSearchWholeWordsOnly=False#20130213" target="_blank">the infamous Matthew.

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2013.07.27Kid in a Candy Store

Clerk:"What's your favorite kind of candy?"
Kiddo:"I don't know... all of them?"


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2013.07.27Word.

Kiddo:"Mommy, you're 'cray cray.'"


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2013.07.26Yes, Honey. Like a Dirty Shirt.

We're about to leave the restaurant.
Kiddo:"Are we off like a dirty shirt?"


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2013.07.26Grabbing Grabbiness

Kiddo:"The secret word is 'May I.' Not grabbing grabbiness."


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2013.07.22It's the Thought that Counts

Kiddo {to Laurel}:"Who's going pottie next - you or dad? 'Cause if its dad, we have to put the seats up for him so he doesn't have to do THIS --" {stoops, makes toilet seat-raising motion}


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2013.07.13Cultural Insensitivity?

A couple of weeks ago, we all watched the Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest on television. I LOVE watching this, because the contestants all take themselves so very seriously. I particularly enjoy when they list off the titles the contestants have. The whole thing just seems fantastic and fun.

Fast forward to this evening. We're walking in a parking lot. We'd just come from a restaurant. Kiddo is chowing down on an ice cream cone when...
Kiddo {pauses, starts licking the cone very slowly}: "I'm a Mexican guy."
Me:{alarmed, looks up and around, preparing an apology for whomever may be nearby} --??!!
Kiddo:"I mean, from the [Fourth of July hot dog] eating contest."
Laurel:"Oh, the guy who ate slowly?"
Me:{heavy sigh of relief}
Laurel then added that the contestant was Canadian (She was spot-on, too — he managed only nine dogs over ten minutes). Kiddo seemed as if she couldn't have cared less.

For my part, I was sort of blown away that Laurel understood what Kiddo was getting at.

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2013.07.13Nice Pick-Up Line

At dinner, kiddo asked her sleepover guest:
Kiddo: "So, is this the best night of your life?"


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2013.05.25Now if only she'd bring home some bacon...

Me: "You were so cute, sleeping in this morning."
Kiddo: "I know! I was a tired woman!"


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2013.05.25Now if only she'd bring home some bacon...

Kiddo (to Laurel): "You're out of your mind, woman!"


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2013.05.23Great Equation

Kid math.

($45 kids' sandal) > ($15 kids' sandal)

($45 kids' sandal) < ($15 kids' sandal) + ($.25 gum ball)



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2013.05.22The Natural Way of Things, Part II

Laurel:"What's the one thing you want to do this summer, that you've never done before?"
Kiddo:(hesitates) "I want to kiss a boy."


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2013.05.21The Natural Way of Things, Part I

Kiddo:"I dreamed that Maya [our grumpy old lady cat] and Sailor [our puppy] were in love. And Sailor gave Maya a bone."
Me:"Well, that happens eventually."


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2013.05.19Wasn't Me!

Me (explaining to kiddo): "Part of my job as dad is to blame things on the dog."


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2013.05.06Played it Cool

It rumbled its way toward the playground after school, loudly and smoothly like a lion's purr.

And it brought her long pants and a helmet to wear.

It was the day I showed up at her after-care on the motorcycle. And it had the effect kiddo was hoping for — the kids' jaws were all dropping.

Most notably that of the young fella she likes. "ARE YOU GOING TO RIDE THAT?!", he exclaimed.

Though she played it extremely coolly, I saw a glimmer of a smirk escape the corner of her mouth.

She pulled on her jeans (it was a warm day — she was wearing shorts) and then her helmet — and we drove off, leaving spellbound children behind.

I bet she was squeeing all the way home.

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2013.04.27Community

We went for a walk after dinner. An owl was sitting in a tree and the birds were freaking out — some were attacking the owl.
Kiddo: "But this is his community! He feels safe here."


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2013.03.27Baby's First Words

We are cautiously matching kiddo's need for spelling and reading work up with her desire to text.

The end result could be a win...


"Hi daddy do you want to play Lego Star Wars?"
...eventually.  

No, kiddo is NOT getting a phone. Think of it as a carrot-and-stick approach to reading and spelling.
"Honey, there's no point in getting you a phone if you don't know how to read."
This is technologically possible because Laurel configured her old iPod Touch, which she had seconded to kiddo, to contain limited contact information and enabled a texting capability over WiFi via Laurel's account (meaning she'll be able to read whatever kiddo sends).  

Now, to be fair, kiddo's temporary lag in English skills is consistent with the learning curve for young bilingual students; her developing Spanish skills are consuming the bandwidth that English-only kids are using for skills development, and that this usually levels out in second grade (next year).

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2013.03.08Math Books. Sure.

Kiddo this morning wanted to take something with her to day care to play with. I don't think she really cared what. She's got a bunch of little toys in a bookbag.
Kiddo: "I'm going to take this bag with me."
Laurel: "No, you're not. You don't need to take anything with you today."
Kiddo: "Yes I do! Just listen to me! It's got... my math books... and I need it to... [be a better student.]"
Me: *HOWLS WITH LAUGHTER*

Kiddo
(to Laurel):
"What's wrong with dad?"

She got what she deserved, though — Laurel emptied the bookbag of everything except the book, and let her take the bag to daycare.

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2013.03.07Parts is Parts

Kiddo had a sleepover with her "bestie" last weekend.
Kiddo:"Can [we change into our pajamas] together? 'Cause we have the same parts!"
Me:*facepalm*


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2013.02.27Cheese Pizza

In my world, pizza is divided into two classes. On the one hand, there is the awesome pizza — stuff that blows the mind with complete yumminess. On the other, there is, well, the nicer term is "throw-away pizza" — this is the stuff that one buys because they're looking for easy sustenance as opposed to an experience. The quality is comparatively "meh" — its good pizza (still way better than no pizza at all), but then, your expectations are different for this class of pie than they are for the former.

On the eve of the second "snomageddon", I bought two pies of the latter class. Simple, cheese and pepperoni pies, with thin wheat crusts. "No big whoop." (By the way, the pizzaria from which I bought them is more than quite capable of offerings of the former class.)

I was explaining to Laurel that the slice of leftover pizza I'd fed to kiddo a half-hour earlier was not meant to be her dinner.
Me: "She told me she was starving and she'd been out playing in the snow twice earlier. Just one small slice of ..."
— now, I should have said "thin" here. But instead I chose poorly, and opted for the other term I use for "throw-away pizza" — but I spelled it out:
... "s-h-i-t-t-y pizza."
She nodded in acknowledgment.
Kiddo: "Hey! You spelled 'cheese!' Cheese pizza!"
 

Shame on me.  

Sadly, it's better I accept that than attempt to correct her, given the circumstances.

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2013.02.17Been Around the Block

On a beautiful, somewhat warm Sunday afternoon, kiddo and I got the bikes out and went for a ride. Kiddo chose the route — which was simply around the block across the street.

As she led me around the first corner, I couldn't resist asking:
Me: "So, you've been around the block a few times, have you?"
Kiddo (confidently, as she pulled ahead): "Yeah."


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2013.02.13Better to Have Loved and Lost...

We were throwing the football around in the yard yesterday when kiddo told me that she and Matthew "broke up".

She also told me she apologized to him because he didn't understand what she meant when she told him that she liked him.

I tried to comfort her by letting her know that (we) boys aren't too smart about knowing when girls like them. But she didn't seem too upset about it.

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2013.02.12Proud of our Girl

When I picked kiddo up from school yesterday, she blurted this out when we got in the car:
"I TOTALLY told Matthew that I love him."
Yes, she's 7. Yes, I'm freaking out a little. But crushes are a part of life, and dealing with them is something new that she'll have to learn.

But I'm really proud of her for telling Matthew how she felt. It's an incredibly difficult and brave thing to do — and we told her so.

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2013.02.11Hopefully, This was Genius

So on Saturday afternoon Laurel and I brought kiddo to the Harley dealership to get her fitted for a helmet and to see the new bike for the first time. I was really pleased to see how excited she became!

The person who helped fit her with a full-face, no fooling around helmet noted that one brand in particular fit rather loosely — loosely enough that she surmised kiddo wouldn’t be big enough to safely ride with us for a year.

I suggested to kiddo that she work extra hard to study her math and language to help her head to grow.

(Luckily, we found a small helmet from another manufacturer that fit her.)

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2013.02.10I'm Sure the Cat Can Help With That

Kiddo has been known to rock the fauxhawk to school occasionally. Perhaps that was on her mind when she asked the cat:
"Will you do me a quick, quick favor? Will you wet my hair down with your slobber?"


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2013.02.09Hamburger Helper

Kiddo (to the cat, and for no reason): "Hamburger Helper, [kitty]. Way to go."


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2013.02.09PINK!

We took kiddo out to shop for some clothes last night. She's grown quite a bit (and is in a spurt now, we're fairly sure), and the new soccer season is just around the corner.

We were amazed by her color choices. For a kid who likes greens and blacks and grays, there was a ton of pink in that cart.

When asked about her color choices later on, she uttered a single word: "Matthew."

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2013.02.05New Rule

Me {to Kiddo}: "Honey, you cannot feed your scabs to the cat."


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2013.02.05I Don't Want You on My Midsection

Kiddo {to me}: "I'm on you like a piece of cake."


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2013.01.10Big Time Seven Year-Old

On the morning of her seventh birthday, I entered kiddo's room and woke her gently by petting her head and singing her "Happy Birthday."

When she awakened, she told me what a lovely singing voice I have.

She melts me.

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2013.01.07Well, I Guess That Would Do It

Mommy {entering the room}: "Why does it smell like poop in here?"
Kiddo {haltingly}: "Prolly... from my... butt?"


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2013.01.07It Just Isn't

Kiddo {to Mommy}: "How come life isn't fair?"


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2012.12.11Fibbing to Mommy (It's Our Little Secret)

Last night I suggested to kiddo that we should sneak out and get something together for mommy for Christmas. I let her handle how to get us out.

Kiddo's answer was to tell mommy we're going for a bike ride (it was dark out) and that to stay warm we were going to wear all our coats.

After browsing a department store, we settled into a new jewelry store. Kiddo set her heart on a stuffed Teddy Bear. I managed to acquire one with our purchase for mommy. I managed to keep the bear secret for a few minutes, anyway.

Kiddo told the jewelry store saleswoman the tale about how we snuck out; she suggested we go into the bathroom and splash water on our faces to make it look as though we'd been sweating. Kiddo accepted the suggestion without question.

On the drive home, I asked kiddo how she planned on explaining the presence of the bear, and suggested we simply not let mommy know about it until after Christmas. Unacceptable; she preferred to offer explanation.

So as soon as we got home we hurried into the guest bathroom and splashed our faces. We were dripping wet when mommy met us in the kitchen.
Mommy: "Wow! It looks like you had SOME ride!"

Kiddo: "We splashed water on our faces so we could dehydrate!"

Mommy: "What do you have there? Where did you get that Teddy Bear?"

Kiddo: "We rode all the way to the mall and while we were looking around, some
           random old lady said, 'Here!' and gave me this Teddy Bear!"


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2012.12.10"Oh, THAT F-Word!"

My mother is coming into town for Christmas. She's never visited us before, so it's a big deal. Given how she raised me, and how she was raised, we thought it might be worth attempting to rein in some of kiddo's vocabulary — at nearly 7, kiddo's still all about bodily functions.

Out from nowhere, as we watched TV last night:
Kiddo: "Has Nana ever done the 'F-word'?"
Mommy and I were frozen in stunned silence. Kiddo repeated her question. After a — forgive me — pregnant pause:
Mommy: "Has Nana ever said  the 'F-word'?"
Kiddo: "Has Nana ever DONE the 'F-word'?!"
Well, I guess that really is what she asked. As I was gearing up to answer her question (after more silence and shock):
Mommy (eventually): "Do you mean fart?"
Kiddo: "Yes! Fart!"
Imagine our relief!

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2012.12.04"Origami Style"

Well, it looks like Psy’s "Gangnam Style" is rocking the first graders at the local elementary school.

Kiddo misheard the phrase "Opa Gangnam" as "Origami." Hence the title.

I was in the kitchen washing dishes when I heard Laurel and kiddo playing various YouTube videos of the song on the TV. I thought the mashup with MC Hammer’s "2 Legit 2 Quit " was particularly clever.

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2012.11.14"I Certainly Didn't See That Coming" moment #531

Having to explain to kiddo the origin of the "pants-below-the-bootie" fashion trend.

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2012.11.13Broke It To Me Gently

Kiddo {calling down the stairs}: "Hey, Dad! I have a boyfriend. His name is Matthew. And he has manners. When he burps, he covers his mouth. And he never farts. He's 7."


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2012.10.29Hot Dogs and Love

I'm becoming a victim of my own humor. Some time ago I was describing some food to kiddo when I told her it "smelled like LOVE and AMERICA." Now I'm getting paid back:
Kiddo: "My farts smell like hot dogs and love!"
*sigh* If only she would use her powers for good.

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2012.08.05Sensitivity Training: Grandparents

I can't make this stuff up. We were seated at the dinner table, talking about manners. I began to recount for kiddo what formal dinners with my grandparents was like.
Me: "My grandparents were very strict at the table. 'Strict' means they had some very serious rules."

Kiddo: "BUUUUUUUUUUT they're dead."
*stunned*

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2012.08.01"Ahscience" Seating

Kiddo's registered for first grade. She's not too wild about the assigned seating, though:
[Kiddo] is mad because she has 'ahscience' seats. I asked if she meant 'assigned' and she assured me she did not. "'Ahscience' means you don't get to sit with friends.'"


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2012.07.30$1.37

We kept kiddo home from day care today for a special project. When we moved in a year ago, we made kiddo a deal: She could keep the finished part of the basement (which is most of it) for her toys. She could use it as a "rec room" and was free to keep it messy most of the time in exchange for helping keep the main floor and her bedroom tidy.

So the project today was to organize her basement playroom a bit, and to donate toys and clothes that didn’t make the cut to the local rescue mission.

I phoned to see how mommy was holding up during the noon hour. Kiddo described to me all of the money she brought with her. I told her it totalled $1.37.

I didn’t realize she was about to donate it:
'She told one of the residents, "I'm sorry you don't have money and toys for your kids. I brought some for you!"'
She humbles me.

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2012.07.23Time for Sensitivity Training

While stopped at an intersection last night, kiddo and I noticed a pair of morbidly obese young ladies standing at the corner.

As the people crossed the street in front of us, kiddo broke the silence:
"BEST FRIEND FATTIES!!"
— Calvin and I are going to have a talk about that.

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2012.05.29Impressive!

We're watching Tigers baseball on TV. Kiddo caught the announcer mentioning Miguel Cabrera's age. Well, part of it, anyway:
Kiddo: "Is he really nine?"
Me: "No, honey. He's 29."
Kiddo: "If he was nine, I would be impressed."


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2012.05.25I Just Posted a Pic of My Kid on the Internet

I'm thinking about this because I just posted a photo of my kid on Facebook. Well, it's a comparison photo — my kid's head compared to Limecat.

Limecat
I also posted that someday kiddo will drive home and kick my butt for it. But this is what got me thinking...

The Information Age already OWNS our children. We (and by "we" I mean, people who are at least in their 30's) grew up in nearly complete anonymity, relative to the world. Not so now: there are pictures and documents and all kinds of digital flotsam and jetsam pertaining to probably every child in the civilized world stored on some server somewhere.

Kids are photographed with digital cameras and camera phones the moment they're born. Those pictures are sent to people and uploaded to websites. Websites are crawled by search engine bots.

Hell, I bet I can make up a name and type it into GIS and will be able to find a photo of a child.

To prove my point, I just opened another browser tab and typed in a name I just made up: "Thomas Lund." Immediately I found information about a dancer and a retired badminton player from Denmark, plus photos of tons of other people — including preschool- and elementary school-aged kids — sharing that name.

As preschool-aged Thomas Lund grows up, his digital legacy will follow. Hell, by the time young Thomas reaches high school all officials will have to do is Google the kid's name and they'll find far more information than they could ever hope to consume. Why keep a file?

At this point, baby Thomas' parents have already contributed gigabytes, if not terabytes, of data about him to the Internet. Photos. Videos. Images of his preschool art projects. Data that all fits neatly into a timeline. Heck, Facebook and it's timeline.

As the boy Thomas grows, so too has his digital footprint. As pre-teen Thomas is being fitted for braces his young friends are uploading silly things onto YouTube and making Facebook posts on top of the contributions his parents are making. Surely there are terabytes of data on him by now.

I'd bet the quantity of data multiplies five- or ten-fold through Thomas' high school years. Papers he writes. Research he does. Notes for his classes. The whole world can know when he gets his first car. Girlfriend. BOTH. The burden on the servers probably expands exponentially at this point, and keeps on growing through college years.

By the time young Mr. Lund reaches the workforce, any prospective employer will know everything there is to know about the kid. Would there really be any need for a résumé?  
 
~~~  
 
*sigh* I just posted a pic of my kid on the Internet.

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2012.05.11I'm Sure Dad is Laughing

My father used to give me lots of grief over my smelly feet.

I was a teenager back when "Miami Vice" hit the air. The lead character, played by Don Johnson, wore a Vans-like slip-on shoe without socks. (It WAS the eighties, after all).

Tonight I got paid back for it when I took kiddo shopping for shoes… I have a six year-old who could knock a buzzard off a poop wagon just by letting her dogs out.

The smell nearly knocked me over in the store. I was bent over her leg, helping her fit a shoe onto her foot when it hit me, full-force, both nostrils.

I knew Dad loved it.

(By the way, I haven’t gone without socks since, well, probably the early nineties.)

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2012.04.22Part of a "Zombie Costume," eh?

Kiddo came home from a playdate at a neighbor's home wearing a studded collar (such as one might find in an adult toy store). It was reportedly given to her by the eight or nine year-old brother of the girl she went to visit. When my wife saw the collar, she immediately locked up. The challenge for us became to act in front of kiddo like the collar wasn't a big deal (so it'll be forgotten about in a day or two), despite the fun we were having with the idea the boy had accidentally passed along an article of his parents', eh, personal clothing.

It turned out the collar really was part of the boy's Halloween costume after all.

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2012.04.04So, Does That Mean You're Happy For Us?

Me: "On Sunday, we'll have been married for a whole year! What do you think about that?"

Kiddo: "Watch this!" { grabs her butt cheeks and laughs }
Nice, kid.

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2012.03.26Well, She's Confident, Anyway

Driving home tonight and kiddo (6) starts belting out LMFAO's "Sexy and I Know It" from her car seat.

Mind: Blown.

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2012.02.28Working on spelling

We've been working on kiddo's vocabulary skills — reading to her and watching "Word World" in the evenings. Last night, she fielded this question:
"Does 'Benjamin' start with a silent 'k'?"
??

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2012.02.23Not Helping, Family

I'd started the Atkins diet in early January, and was displeased with the results of the morning's weigh-in. I went north instead of south by 1/2 lb. Kiddo asked how I did; I told her.

A short while later we readied to leave. I reminded her that I was picking her up from school that day. She replied by calling me “Jabba the Hut.” (Her innocent follow-up: “He has a green shirt on, and Jabba wears a green shirt.” Not much of a save.)

My wife's bedside manner could use some work, too — she jumped in and said, “You’re not obese, you know. You’re clinically obese.”

Screw you guys!

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2012.01.19Ahh, Memories

I was digging through the “Notes” app on my phone when I found a trip diary from two years ago. I’m actually amazed I typed this much into my phone. Most notable entry follows:
Dec. 30

Nothing has ever given me "stagefright" faster than when [kiddo told me, after I ushered] her into the pottie, "You can go first."


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2012.01.10Can't Argue with That!

On Turning 6:
Kiddo: "I think when I’m 6 I’ll have to be even ‘gooder and cooler’ than when I was only 5."


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2012.01.07You're Going to Receive My Compliment AND LIKE IT

Kiddo was on a roll tonight:
Kiddo: "You are the cutest!"

Me: "No, YOU are!"

Kiddo: "Don’t make me slap you."
Here's a great example of Kindergarten humor:
Kiddo: "Let me tell you a joke. What did the K-State say to the dog?"

We: "I don’t know. What?"

Kiddo: "YOU LOVE BALLS!!!"
For this last one, a little background: We’ve been a game I’ll call, "What’s More Important?" It’s a game of comparison. She has to choose which of two things is more important to her. This evening she apparently thought she had a hard question for me. ‘Cept that’s not how it came out (blockquote as how I perceived it — it's a little off-color):
Kiddo: "Dad? I have a hard on for you."

*pause*

Me: "You have a what??"

Mommy: (in the room at the other end of the hall) *erupts in laughter*


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2012.01.05Just Be Yourself

Happened just this morning:
Mommy: "Wow! Great job on those buttons! That shirt is tough."

Kiddo: "Yep."

Mommy: "Do you know what that’s called when you keep trying even when something is difficult?"

Kiddo: "That’s called 'being me'."


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2011.12.20My "Balls" are Beautiful and Green

Kiddo, my wife and I were talking about eyes at lunch (read: in a restaurant, in public) the other day. Here’s how that conversation ended.
Me: "Did you know that your eyeballs won’t grow? Though your head and body will grow, You were born with your eyeballs at full size already."

Mommy: (detecting some confusion on kiddo’s face) "Your eyes are sometimes also called your eyeballs."

Kiddo (loudly, after much thought): "Do you know whose balls I like? (Points at me) THIS GUY’S! Because they’re green!"

Me: *facepalm*

Kiddo (quietly) "I don’t like mine because they’re blue."
I was as red as a beet! And the smiles I got from people at the tables around us didn’t exactly help either!

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2011.12.13Have a Great Day to You, Too!

Mommy: {to kiddo, as we’re walking out the door} "I need a kiss from you!"

Kiddo: "Kiss my butt."
We’re convinced she doesn’t understand that’s an insult. Still, I was LMAO all the way to work!

EDIT: We did explain to her that evening that it's not something she should say.

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2011.08.17You're WHAT?

Kiddo waits until my wife is out of the door this evening before she shuts it and whispers to me, "Don’t tell mommy, but I’M really your husband."

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2011.06.21Fathers' Day: "Daddy, You're Not Invited"

I just knew something like this would happen.

But first, lemme just say that I had an AWESOME Fathers’ Day. I got a card from my lovely daughter and a picture in a frame she picked out — it’s all set for my desk at the new office. We shopped a little, we swam, we played, we cooked a fabulous dinner, then joined the in-laws for dessert at a local restaurant.

I had just come in from cooking three LOVELY ribeyes to find my wife laughing in the kitchen. Apparently she’d just hung up the phone with her ex-husband. She had kiddo call to wish him a happy Fathers’ Day (which I’m told she did, though reluctantly). From there, kiddo spilled the beans about the dessert plans with the larger fam. Apparently she actually told him something along the lines of, "We’re going to see grandma and granddad… for dessert. Oh, daddy, you’re not invited."

YEEESH! Can’t tell that kid ANYTHING!

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2011.04.23Awww Maaan

Our Unitarian daughter attends daycare/nursery school at a Baptist church of all places. Makes for some interesting conversations at times.
Tonight, for example, we were just about to sit down to dinner when kiddo insisted we say a prayer. By the way, the word “prayer” is enough to make glasses drop from my wife's hands.
Although she declined kiddo’s invitation, I was told I’d accept. (Yes. You read that right.) So kiddo taught me the following prayer, sung to the tune of Frère Jacques:
God our Father
God our Father
Once again
Once again
We will ask for blessing
We will ask for blessing
Awww maaaan
Awww maaaan
This, by the way, from the kid who saw a plastic statue of Jesus in a party store and asked mommy to take a picture of her with Obi-Wan Kenobi.

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2011.03.24Terminology

Thought I’d spent a little time away from work and give you something fun to read while you’re not working either: A table of kiddo terminology! Most of these are used when we’re on the road together or out someplace.

Slug-Bug

Now, you should know what this is — this game has been around since I was a kid. We play it a little differently, though: There’s no actual slugging involved. First person to call “slug bug” with the color of the VW beetle wins. The others MUST say “Aww, you got me!”

"Slug bug old!"

Kiddo’s exclamation upon sighting an actual classic “slug bug.”

Darth Vader Car

A Darth Vader car is any car that has one of those racks mounted to the grill — like a bumper that comes up as far as to protect the lights. In order to be a Darth Vader car, that rack must be black. The car being black helps, too — I suppose it resembles Darth Vader’s mask.

Slug-Bug with a Black Vent

When I was in high school, we called these "bras" — black fabric or pleather used to protect the front of the car near the hood. Sometimes these “bras” have holes cut in them for the car’s lights. Kiddo relates this to the mouth area (the “vent”) of Darth Vader’s mask. As it happens, we have a green slug-bug with one of these black protectors in our neighborhood… so it became the green slug bug with the black vent.

Stormtrooper Car

Let me know if you’re picking up any strong tendencies toward Star Wars here. As you might guess (in opposition to the Darth Vader Car, a Stormtrooper Car is a white car with a black grille.

TV Car

A TV Car is a squarish vehicle such as the Honda Element, Kia Soul, or the Nissan Cube. By the way, when calling a “TV Car”, one does not have to specify the color. “TV Car!” is apparently sufficient.

Flinga Wheels

This was a tough one. "Flinga" refers to a type of hubcap design which features few spokes. Kiddo imagines that flinga wheels can be extended from the wheel to send foes spinning out of control. I think I recall that this was one of the inventions on Speed Racer’s Mach 5 — but that was a long time ago.

Balloong Fight

FINALLY something not car or Star Wars-related. “Balloong Fight” is a game in which we sit at opposite ends of the short hallway between the two bedrooms and pass a balloon back and forth between each other by tapping it. Really have no idea how this became a "fight".


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2010.12.30Lesson #39: Don't Let Your Child Learn About Traffic Rules from Holiday Comedies

Kiddo spied a taxi lingering near the door of the restaurant tonight. As we walked toward the entrance, she squeezed our hands and yelled, " THE YELLOW ONES DON’T STOP!!"

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