Jane learns a life lesson

Vicki had a school meeting last night, so it was dinner for three. While I was in the kitchen getting some pineapple cut up for dessert, Jane decided --- it being taco night and all --- to reach into the bowl of shredded cheddar and put a few pieces up her nose.

I can usually count on Samson to give a running commentary of what Jane is doing if she even thinks about doing something she's not supposed to. Last night? Not so much.

I arrived back in the dining room, after a minute's absence (two at the most), to find Jane's eyes watering. She was looking up at me, pointing to her nose and saying, "Nose, Nose, Nose."

After about a minute of this, it became apparent what she had done, and we worked all six (!) little pieces out of her nose. Good grief.

Lightning round

I am really proud of the kids on our tee ball team. Because we could all see that a big storm was coming, the coaches from both teams agreed we'd skip the "clinic" part of the evening and just jump into the "game." Which meant that everyone got a chance to bat.

But it was far from the leisurely pace we usually move at. This was more like speed chess. With bats. And toddlers.

Our side batted first [sidenote: Sam laced a shot that nearly made it out of the infield], and by the time we'd taken the field, the sky was an angry color gray.

The other team got three quarters of the way through their lineup before the first rain drops fell. Amazingly, nobody left the field. Our guys stayed put; they did, of course, notice the rain. And they let me know that it was raining. Repeatedly. But Team A did itself proud by letting all the kids on the other team have the same incredibly hurried chance to bat that they got.

As the last player on Team E rounded third base, we heard the first crack of thunder, and the skies opened. Perfect timing.

Interestingly, all the parents headed for their cars only to find their kids headed for the moms who were on snack duty. What's a little lightning when there's Capri Sun to be had?

Did Dewey Decimal have kids?

I'm guessing he did not. Why, you ask. Because this morning I took a little field with Samson and Jane to the library and got to see the dark side of his system.

Vicki was proctoring an exam, so I took the morning off and got to spend a sunny Tuesday morning with my guys. [Note: This Tuesday morning is not to be confused with the other Tuesday Morning, which somehow manages to combine all the warmth of a Soviet era DMV with the charm and selection of a post-tornado yard sale. I digress.]

Anyway, there's a new library not far from our house, so we happy few packed up our stuff (everyone is carrying a bag and wearing sunglasses these days) and headed out for an hour of play and reading. So far so good.

Samson and Jane had a great time in the kids' area, which is full of kitchen toys and costumes and the like, and they also enjoyed picking out a few books to check out and read at home.

Foolishly, I decided I'd try to find something for myself. We were nearing an hour and fifteen minutes on-site, and Jane was definitely ready for lunch and a nap. But for some reason, I thought it would be a good idea to take a quick spin in the travel section to look for a book [I've been hunting high and low for David Grann's "Lost City of Z"]. No luck.

But I did learn that the travel section, in addition to including narratives and guidebooks, is in the same aisle as graphic novel compilations (that's bound comic books for those of you who weren't in Mathletes) and Spanish-language kids' books. All of which were helpfully placed at around the 3-foot level.

So after a quick scan of what was there, I spent the next 10 minutes trying to wrestle the Batman version of Encyclopedia Brittanica away from Samson only to then find Jane clutching Dora's big book of buenas noches. She was not happy, to say the least, to be told she couldn't bring the book with her and threw herself on the floor.

After asking her nicely to get up, I pulled the "OK then, bye" move. At which point Sammy Superego jumped in with: "Daddy! What are you doing? Jane is part of our family. We don't leave our family behind."

She, of course, was unfazed. But it made me smile to see Samson sticking up for Jane's right to lie on the floor of the public library.

Montessori league

So we finally had weather that was baseball-friendly, and the kids were thrilled not to be shivering while waiting to bat. They were also thrilled at the fresh shoots of grass and dandelions in the infield. So much to see and play with. And none of it remotely related to tee ball.

Which means I need to get some better ideas for fielding drills pretty fast.

We played the light blue team (team E), and at one point, six of their players were sitting on the pitcher's mound. I think I actually saw two of their guys thumb wrestling.

It really is a great time of year...

Hide and seek

Jane tells her first joke

Last night at dinner, Jane was looking out the window into the backyard. What follows is almost verbatim.

Me: "What do you see out there Jane?"

J: "I see a squirrel." [It actually sounded like "EYESEEUHSKWURREL"]

Me: "Oh yeah, what's he doing?"

J: [pause, smile]: "He's pooping!"

I wish you could have seen the twinkle in her eye just before she said it and heard the huge laugh that followed.

I almost choked on my dinner, but I was enormously proud.

The silence of the Peeps

Lock up your Easter baskets, Jane is on the loose...

And yes, that is X-wing pilot Luke holding up the row of mangled Peeps. I needed some way to hold them still, and he just happened to be sitting (minding his own business) at Sam's place on the dining room table.

My girl

"Daddy, I play soccer."

Jane is really starting to put words together, and despite the uber-chattiness of her big brother, she manages to get more than a few words in edgewise.

And I'll be honest, watching her take the world in with those big blue eyes and put her ideas into words is equal parts awe-inspiring and humbling. There's never been a doubt (not since day one) that Jane is her own person, but it's so apparent now as she tells us what she's thinking and feeling.

She and I went to the zoo today, and as I was buckling her into the car seat, she looked at me and said "I had fun."

Not a girl of many words, but boy she sure makes them count. Thanks for making my day Sweet Jane.