Crossing the Rubicon

Vicki started back to work yesterday. This is not her first time back, obviously, but she hasn't worked full-time since Samson was born, nearly five(!) years ago. Which means that our schedules will begin a grand, if somewhat gradual, readjustment over the next several days. Earlier to bed, and much, much earlier to rise.

The kids (plural) start school next week, so Vicki's mom has graciously offered to help out with both Samson and Jane a few days this week, and I'll be taking two days this week and one day next to make sure we're covered. Truly summer's almost gone.

But there's something exciting and hopeful about all of this. And I don't just mean the second full paycheck coming in (although that really will be nice). But it's like our little family has reached a kind of milestone. Starting Monday, Sam and Jane will go to school together three days a week.

Jane has already starting referring to "my school," which Samson --- ever the Martinet --- never fails to correct her on, as he doesn't think it's her school until she actually attends. [He's apparently a real stickler for matriculation.]

Still, we're ready with supplies (how many glue sticks can one child possibly need?) and lunch bags and crib sheets and spare clothes and all the other things one can possibly fit into a 3-foot high by 18-inch-wide cubby.

So there's no true point to this post other than to mark the passage of time, the impending fall ritual that we are all now part of , and to wonder --- albeit in a not very original way --- where all the time has gone. Not just the summer, which is always fleeting, but the years. How is it possible that sweet Jane is ready for school? And when did Samson become a "big kid"? I can still clearly remember his first day in this brave new preschool world.

The godson of soul?

I don't know that there's anything I could really add to this. Samson has discovered James Brown (and also, apparently, his bad self).

American idyll

Admittedly, I have not been good at keeping this site up lately. Heck, I even missed my own bloggiversary (4 years on August 8). It's not like there's nothing going on these days. To the contrary, there's too much going on. I am training for my first marathon, so that is taking up some time.

Of course, longer summer days means later nights, and by the time the stories have been read, the backs rubbed, the cups of water gotten or refused, I'm kind of worn out. And to be honest, it seems silly to hustle the kids off to bed early so I can sit in the warm glow of my laptop and write about them.

So I make no promises as to regularity moving forward, but I'm not ready to call it a day with this blog just yet. I guess I would just ask that you stay tuned...

Here are some pictures of the most perfect night we've had this summer. I was just about to start a week off from work, and the movie Wall-E was showing on campus. We had no idea if the kids would even last until the movie started much less make it to the end. But it was one of those nights when the stars just seemed to align.

Samson and Jane were amazing; the night turned chilly enough to require sweatshirts (always a bonus in July); and we got to watch the whole movie under a beautiful, clear summer sky while munching on popcorn and enjoying the breeze. And not only was the movie free, but they had a guy there doing balloon animals and flowers (also balloon light sabers, but only by request).

Seriously, what more could you ask for?

Sam crosses the wine-dark sea

Because Samson loves to hear stories at bedtime, and because I love to tell them but am not always at the ready with a new one, he's gotten some exposure to a few of the classics (like Beowulf, Sir Gawain, Icarus and Daedalus).

I usually switch him in for the protagonist. So he'll either feel totally prepared or unbelievably cheated when he hits that first Western Lit class and realizes how many of his bedtime stories were plagiarized. [Actually, he already knows because our local library has a great collection of kids-adapted versions of these stories, which we also read.]

Anyway, of late Samson is obsessed with the story of Odysseus. [Tip of the hat to my friend Rebecca for putting me wise to this clip.]

This came about innocently enough. Vicki was trying to get some painting done in the basement and found a late 90s kids movie called "The Trojan Horse" on our cable system. It's exactly what you'd expect from the time and genre: Bad jokes, fluffy hair, and more precocity than you can shake a stick at. But it presents the story in a way that's exciting and has been edited enough to keep it from being too violent while still keeping the story moving. And despite it's cheese factor, it's still a far cry from the dreck of movies like Cars, which insist on salting the dialogue with "grown-up" jokes to keep the adults interested.

[Note to the Disney executives: You've already rigged it so I have to watch the movie; don't do me any favors by trying to make it funny for me. You'll fail, and it will feel longer than it already does. Just get it over with quickly and go on with peddling your merchandise tie-ins. I digress.]

Anyway, this Trojan Horse movie has it all. Swords and spears, archers, a giant wooden horse, even a musical number (which, and he's watched it at least a dozen times now, Sam always asks to fast-forward through). Seriously, and I know this about my son, when he likes something he really likes it. So we're in the basement watching it and he's studying the thing like it's the Zapruder film. Afterwards he's out in the yard or running around the house fighting Trojans, battling a Cyclopes, etc.

Which can be dicey --- luckily, Jane has excellent reflexes --- but I love that he's connecting with this story that's thousands of years old. And his enthusiasm inspired me to re-read The Odyssey, something I hadn't done since I had to teach it years ago to a group of decidedly unenthusiastic first-year engineering students fulfilling their humanities requirement.

Not to mention that this new found fascinating with all things Hellenic has afforded us some leverage with day to day stuff. Like most boys, he's not big on washing his hands before eating or after using the bathroom, but since I've told him that the Greeks were big on cleanliness, he's scrubbing in like a surgeon. Likewise, at dinner we've talked about how the Greek soldiers always ate everything on their plate (especially when camped for 10 years outside Troy), so he's been a champ at the table.

Thanks Homer!

Unplugged

So it's been a while, and while normally I'd make some attempt at apologizing, it's actually been nice to be disconnected for a bit. I took last week off from work and had a great week home. We took a few day trips and actually got a couple of things done around the house.

I have lots of photos to post and a few stories to tell, but I was determined that I would refrain from logging on at all (for work e-mails, personal e-mails, Facebook, etc) while I was off. It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be (which probably says something about my work ethic), and I kind of enjoyed not being in the loop for a while. I'm not saying that I'll be shopping for abandoned buses in the Alaskan outback anytime soon, but it really was nice --- for a little while --- to be able to view the laptop as just another appliance and to turn off my BlackBerry without worrying that I might miss something. [Of course, I did miss something, but it all got sorted out in the end. And it's not like I'm a surgeon for crying out loud.]

Anyway, some good stuff to catch up on, including Jane's newfound interest in using the toilet and Samson's complete obsession with the story of Odysseus. More on both later, but right now it's off to bed for me. I've decided, for reasons I still can't fully explain, that I'm going to run a marathon in October. So three weekday mornings and Saturdays I am up at 6 to do my running. Good times. Actually, I'm really enjoying it.

Jane on the other hand? Not so much. I thought I was out the door undetected this morning, but Vicki said right after I left Jane was at our bedroom window [she is still coming into our bed in the middle of the night] and said "Daddy! He's running away from me!" My poor sweet Jane...

Fourth of July

We had a barbeque to attend in the evening but decided to spend the early part of the day at Ft. McHenry, a local attraction and the scene of the battle with the British during the War of 1812 that inspired Francis Scott Key to write what would become our national anthem.

One of the coolest things about the fort, in addition to the cannons they fire, is the fact that they have a replica of the original star-spangled banner (30 feet x42 feet) and enlist (no pun intended) vistors in helping them unfurl it. Sam and I were picked to help for the morning display, and it was pretty neat to listen to the park ranger tell us the story of the Battle of Baltimore, how 1,000 men fought off an attack from British naval ships lobbing 200-lb bombs at them for 25 hours. The citizens of Baltimore, fearful that the British would burn the city the way they had Washington, DC, were looking to the fort for a sign of hope. The sight of the flag still flying let them know the fort had not surrendered and the city --- at least for the time being --- was safe.

I admit I'm something of a history buff (not on the order of the fanny-packed, reenactor groupie who almost ran Jane over to get nearer to the munitions exhibit, but I love learning about how people used to live). And I love the connection visiting a place like Fort McHenry can foster, particularly on a day like Independence Day. Yes, I know the 4th is about burgers and beer and not very bright teenagers losing digits. But I want my kids to know it's also a very important part of their nation's complicated, imperfect, and fascinating history.

At noon, the rangers asked all the visitors to gather for another unfurling of the flag and a singing of the national anthem. We stood up on one of the grassy ramparts that allowed us to look out to the bay or in to the fort. Two gigantic flags were unfurled, and the master of ceremonies led us all in singing the national anthem. Now I don't sing much in public. Not even in church. Not even when the priest (or worse yet, my mother) looks at me like "hey man, what's the problem?" But I sang. And it was really something to see all these people gathered and to hear them singing together.

When it was over, the most amazing thing happened. Out of nowhere, a guy in the crowd started singing the second verse. This was amazing to me for two reasons. First, because I had no idea there was a second verse. So that was nice to learn. But there this guy stood, unabashed and not looking for praise or attention, just somehow moved to sing there in this place where people had fought hard, not for a flag but for an idea and a way of life that may not even have been available to some of them. The guy was probably in his sixties, wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt that read NAVY on it. The look on the man's face reminded me of Norman Rockwell's Freedom of Speech painting. Completely unselfconscious and right there in the moment.

As I stood there, holding Samson's hand and watching this man, I thought of the men in that fort during the battle. How they must have been afraid and exhausted. Victory certainly wasn't guaranteed, but they fought because they believed in their country. I thought of my dad, who spent the end of his teenage years in the navy in the Pacific theater of World War II. I thought of my brother-in-law, who is serving in Iraq right now, away from his wife and baby daughter.

And I was profoundly grateful for them and for people like them. Not because they are heroes (although they may be). And not because they are perfect (they are not). But because they serve. And they sacrifice. And in so doing, in a very real way, they stake their lives on the very promise articulated with the sentence that begins "We hold these truths to be self-evident..."

Spanish-language optometry?

No matter how many times we correct him, I still find it hilarious that Samson thinks the Star-Spangled Banner's first line is "O Jose, can you see?"

Happy Independence Day everyone!