November 2007
Little Megan is the sweetest thing ever. Unless she’s angry. Which is a bit too often. And she always takes her socks off. Like I could build a snow fort, and put her in it, and immediately she would set about grunting and trying to remove her boots and socks. This would be especially difficult with mittens on, but she is remarkably stubborn and ingenious and I wouldn't bet against her.
Meggie had a good Thanksgiving. I didn’t really pay attention to anyone else.
Michael asked Sara, “Are humans going to get extinct soon?” He is bright, perceptive, and inquisitive. And he’s more of a scientist than a cynic, by the way; I know it was a question born of curiosity more than fear or fatalism. Obviously. He’s four years old. He’s still an optimist! I’m kidding. I love him.
December 2007
Michael’s favorite song right now is “Thunderstruck.” Yes, ACDC. Attaboy!
The other night, after I delivered an especially spirited Christmas prayer, Michael asked me, “Daddy, is God real?” I said, “Yes, I believe God is real.” He must’ve sensed my answer wasn’t a slam-dunk affirmative. He clarified his question, “I mean, does God walk on two legs?” Oh. I smiled and said, "Sure, I think God can exist in many forms. In fact, maybe God walks on two legs inside all of us, and don't forget the reason we celebrate Christmas,"... but Michael interrupted me, very excited, “Or does God fly?!” It's important to remember that kids aren't theologians. We chatted about the possibilities, but mostly I told Michael we’ll discuss God more when he gets older, and he’ll arrive at his own thoughts and beliefs on the matter, and in the meantime we should love one another and be grateful for everything God has given us.
January 2008
Oh my sweet Megan. She’s a little chatterbox now and her voice is music. As long as she’s happy. That’s Megan as Bruce Banner. Megan as the Hulk is... unpleasant. She screams. She throws things, or knocks them over. She’s pretty combustible. But usually she’s a sweetheart. She gets less irritated now that he has more words to express herself; overall, she seems less frustrated. But being a toddler can’t be that bad. Consider the perks like naps and comfy pajamas. Megan seems more inquisitive now, too. She asks, “What ya workin’, Daddy?” Or, “What ya lookin’?” Or, if she hears a loud truck outside or an airplane overhead, she says, “I her dat!” She kind of looks around suspiciously, cautiously. When she says, “Pease, Daddy?” it’s hard to say no.
Michael and I play the “I love you more than…” game once in a while. I say, “Michael, I love you more than all the Blue Whales.” This is a good one, of course, because Michael informed me that Blue Whales are the biggest animals in the world! Last night, however, I tried something different: I said, “Michael, I love you so much that when you were born, I cried, I was SO happy, I cried like crazy, more than you did in the first hour of your life, the first hour I could see you and hold you.” I thought maybe I’d only confused Michael, but he said, “Daddy, I know you were the guy who made me come out of Mommy’s tummy.” I said, “How do you know that?” He said, “Because I saw pictures.” Ah yes, pictures from the hospital. I explained that doctors were involved too. Then I changed the subject.
Megan is the cutest thing ever, but her diapers are very stinky. At least she warns us now, “I’m poopy, I got poopy out of my bottom.” Okay, Sweetheart, gimme a minute to prepare myself...
Meggie’s a good talker now but she doesn’t always make sense. Yesterday, we had this exchange:
Meggie: I took my socks off, Daddy.
Daddy: I know, Honey. Why do you always do that?
Meggie: Because it’s cold outside.
I went to the bookstore with the kids last weekend. I explained – to Michael mostly – that the three of us would stay together. That meant, to avoid separating, we might look at books Meggie likes first, then books Michael likes, then books that Daddy likes. Michael was frustrated by this, “Well, uh, well, I don't like princesses and I am allowed to NOT look at a princess book if Meggie finds one!” Fair enough. I agreed that was perfectly fine.
Michael has seen and read how animals kill each other, how they hunt, fight, protect their young, and so on. He knows killer whales and sharks attack seals; he knows lions and cheetahs run down all kinds of prey. So I wasn't too surprised when I heard him narrating dialogue between two plastic dinosaur toys like this: “Hi, I’m a Protoceratops and I’m going to kill you now, Lambeosaurus!” I told Michael to go easy on the “I’m going to kill you!” storylines. I emphasized how it’s especially not nice to use language like that in stories about people. Maybe they just fight and wrestle or something. Of course, the next play-story I heard Michael narrating went like this: “Watch out Brachiosaurus! Here comes T-Rex to make you not alive anymore!”
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