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.

Opening day

So Team A had its first practice/game tonight, and I think it went pretty well. Samson, who is usually brutally honest, told me he had fun.

I don't really have anything to report. Other than the fact that for reasons I can't even begin to fathom, our team has me for a coach while Team B has a guy who used to play minor league ball and who has no kid in the program. Weird. We were running the bases while his squad was working on sacrifice bunts.

OK, not really, but I wondered if this was some kind of little league community service for parents who get ornery in the stands at the upper age levels.

Anyway, Vicki and Jane braved a cold and windy night to watch their guys on the field, and Vicki got a perfect photo of our team.

I wish I could take credit for lining them up at that well, but at that point, I was in the infield making sure our runners advanced from first to second base and so on. It's not as easy as it sounds...

Paging Morris Buttermaker

I mentioned in my last post that we'd signed Samson up for tee ball and that it would be starting soon. Apparently it starts tomorrow night. The league coordinator is not, um, coordinated about schedules and stuff like that.

Also, apparently, I am the coach. [Where's Walter Matthau when you need him?] It started innocently enough: We got an e-mail from the league coordinator with a roster and a note that said the team needed some parents to help out and be "assistant" coaches. Sure, I thought. Why not?

Now I never played tee ball as a kid [see: parents; see also: sports agnostics], but I love playing ball outside with Samson. And while I can't take any credit for his good hand-eye coordination and solid swing, there is almost nothing I'd rather do than be part of his tee ball experience. So I e-mailed the league guy to say I'd be happy to help and was told to show up last Thursday night for "coaches clinic" at 6:30 pm.

I came right from work and arrived about 15 minutes early. So I headed into the elementary school gym, which the school custodian kindly told me was where the meeting would be. So far so good.

Finding myself alone and with some time to kill [an occurrence almost as rare as Halley's Comet], I figured I'd take a seat and get some reading done. Since I'm no longer in school, I've been trying to challenge myself with books I should have read by now and was some 600 pages into Ulysses and struggling to finish before it was due back to the library. By the time I realized no one had shown up, it was 6:40. So now, I was not only late, but I was lost.

The meeting was in full swing --- outside --- when I arrived, still in my suit and with a copy of Ulysses with me. Nothing like starting off on the right foot.

I'm guessing the first order of business was picking team colors, because by the time I got there, all that was left was lime green or brown. And I'll be honest, I went for the brown first. One of the head guys there said: "You're really going for brown?" To which I replied, "Sure, why not?"

His answer: "In all the years I've been doing this, no one has ever picked brown."

So we'll be wearing lime green. And black hats. Which, to be honest, is fine. I'm sure the kids won't care, and we'll know where each of them is at all times.

It's a good thing I did show, late or not, because I was the only one from our team there, hence my rapid promotion from guy willing to help to guy with equipment bag full of balls, bases, hats, shirts, and a brand-new tee that smells like the plumbing section of Home Depot. [Seriously, what kind of rubber do they use for those things?]

Samson and I got out today and practiced a bit with the tee (a perq of being the coach's kid). And although the bat is a little heavy for him, I think he'll be just fine. Half the kids on the team are friends of his, which is nice because it means I can enlist lots of help from the parents who are there. I think this is going to be good.

Stay tuned...

Custom of the country

I grew up on Long Island, and lacrosse is sort of a big deal there. But here in Maryland, it's pretty much a religion. And Samson has already caught the fever.

[That said, we signed him up for tee-ball for this spring. He's still too young for youth lax here, and while he likes playing in the backyard with me, something tells me that baseball --- in all its pastoral glory --- may be a little more his speed. I mean, he liked soccer (keep your eye on #5 in the photos), but I think he's really temperamentally suited for the dugout.]

Still, we take the sticks out and play at the park. Jane has shown little interest so far, which makes sense. For one, she's only just learned to walk a few months ago.

And for two, it involves her brother running around (sometimes at her) with a big stick in his hand.

But she really liked throwing to him.

Jane's Vanilla Sky

On the weekends, the reservoir near our house is closed to traffic. Which means it's a perfect place for biking, running, and walking.

It also means you really need to give people context before sharing your pictures...

Redshirt Sammy

Because this is Samson's second go in the three-year-old class, some of the things he is doing are repeats from last year. Like the class play.

[I should explain: He's got a late birthday, and since we knew he'd need to repeat one year somewhere along the way, we figured it might as well be this one. He'll be five about to turn six when he enters kindergarten, which I'm ok with. I've yet to go on a job interview where they asked if I was a "true kindergartener." And let's be honest, it's not like he's a giant, aggressive kid or anything. His class was learning about weight for their science lesson last week, and so everyone got weighed. Despite being one of the oldest kids in his class, he was still on the light end of the chart. I digress.]

Unlike last year (when he was a flower), this year he had a "lead" role: Baby Bear. Of course after a few minutes of wearing the mask, he decided to put it up it like a visor. I'm pretty sure this was so he could more easily pick his nose, but let's give him the benefit of the doubt and assume this is the early mark of a Method actor. [Seriously, Brando wouldn't use a bear mask, right?]

Interestingly enough, their music teacher --- in addition to being the director, narrator and having the patience of Job --- has a fairly thick Russian accent. Which leant a little extra something special to the story of "Goldeelux" and the bears.

All in all, a terrific way to start the morning.

My two

We were at the reservoir yesterday (more pics to follow). It was a crisp spring day, and even as Vicki was taking this picture, I knew it would be a keeper.

I have no idea what they were talking about, and I'm sure they forgot 10 minutes after themselves. But there is something (at least for me) profoundly special in the capturing of this very ordinary moment in time.

Madness (not the band)

It's the time of year again when I care about college basketball. This year, rather than simply leaving my bracket picks up to what little hoops knowledge I have, I thought I'd outsource the job. Enter Samson.

Tonight after dinner, we sat at the table, and I explained the idea of the tournament and then asked him to make his picks. I have to say, for a child who has watched less than 3 minutes of college basketball, he did a great job. To be perfectly honest, I was impressed that he sat still with me for that long.

I read each match-up and then asked him to make a choice. I'm pretty sure he based each pick on name alone (which would explain his faith in American to reach the Sweet 16). And while I'm not terribly optimistic about his Robert Morris pick over the Spartans, I think he's right about local favorites Morgan St. might pulling the upset over Oklahoma.

I've now just about exhausted all the tourney talk I'm capable of, and if I could figure out how to put his bracket up as a file I'd gladly share it with you.

That said, I can give you his final four: Kansas, Washington [which Jane kept calling "WashyerHANDS" every time we said the name], Duke, and Western Kentucky.

He's got the final as a match-up between Washington and Duke, with Duke winning the whole thing.

So there you have it. Let the games begin...

The wearing of the green

So I've been far too busy doing actual work at work to be able to post. And at night, well, if I don't fall asleep while reading Samson a story, I've been falling asleep shortly thereafter while trying to get through Ulysses.

But I'm back, and on a night I would --- in years gone by --- have been out until the wee small hours of the morning, I find myself blogging. It's nice to be back. As my good friend Jared once said: "19-year-old you would hate mid-thirties you." He's probably right, but I'm just as glad to be here on the couch and feel like the fact that I'm awake is a minor St. Patrick's miracle. I lead a very full life.

Lots has transpired in the past few weeks: Jane is now speaking in full sentences; Samson has discovered Tom and Jerry; and we finally got a fix for what was a really frustrating inability to download photos from our camera.

I'll do my best to be on top of this again, and I figured I'd get back in the swing with a few pics of the kiddoes. Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Mea culpa, a haiku

All apologies
New job and freelance project

I will post more soon...

Because I do not hope to turn again

Today is Ash Wednesday. And aside from being pretentious and quoting T.S. Eliot, I'm thinking about Lent. Also, I'm eating a giant ham and bacon sandwich. OK, not really; just putting that out there in the (very) off chance my folks are reading this.

No, I'm thinking about Lent because, as I've noted earlier, I expect this Easter is going to require a LOT of explaining. I mentioned to Samson last night that today is the start of Lent and that it's the time we spend getting ready for Easter. So far so good.

I then said, since he goes to an Episcopal school and might see folks showing up for services, that today is a day many people put ashes on their foreheads as a reminder that we're just sort of passing through this life on our way to the next one. Heady stuff, I know, but it's not like I'm making it up.

And unfortunately, he's not old enough yet for me to refer him to the catechism of Eddie Izzard.

Cousins

When I was a kid, my favorite cousins were a year and two years older, respectively, than me. Which meant that getting together with them was always a lot of fun. Unfortunately, they lived in Montreal, so seeing them was kind of an event.

It's possible that this made our times together (vacations, family occasions) all the more special, but I remember always wishing we lived nearer to each other. And I still treasure those memories from my childhood.

I don't have any interest in moving, but watching Samson and Jane play with Luke certainly made me wish our families lived closer. And it not only brought back lots of good memories from my own childhood but made me happy at the prospect of my children creating their own memories with Luke and Nate in years to come....

Road trip

We took a trip up to Connecticut this weekend to meet my new nephew, Nathan. For a baby weighing more than 9 pounds(!) at birth, he was smaller than I'd expected. I think it's probably just been a long time since I've held a newborn.

What a sweet little guy he is. And big brother Luke is doing very well. He still seems a bit confused about it all. Which makes sense. I think Samson is still wondering what hit him, and Jane is now 2.

Anyway, we went up Saturday morning and returned Sunday night. You're probably thinking: "wow, that's a lot of time in the car with two small children." You know what? I KNOW!

Trip highlights include:

* Sam's discovery that the words "pee-pee bottom" make Jane laugh this terrific belly laugh. Every time. Seriously. Every. Time.

* Jane's slow transformation into Michael Winslow. We're not big beepers in our family, but occasionally, you just need to beep. Every horn honk (ours or others) was met with Jane's approximation of the sound.

* Samson has been paying more attention in chapel than we may have realized. On the turnpike going home (somewhere near Cherry Hill), we heard him having a duel with two Playmobil guys. Guy one: "You can't defeat me." Guy two: "I can. I'm a bad guy." Guy one: "You'll never defeat the ISRAELITES!!!"

Also, apparently the kids have unionized. On our trip up (somewhere near the Amboys; God I love New Jersey!), I suggested, for about the 11th time, that they might want to put their heads down and take a nap.

To which Jane said "Noway." And then Sam chimed in: "No. We're not napping. We'll never take a nap." And then they both laughed this weird conspiratorial laugh and started up again with a round of "pee-pee bottom."

Good times in minivan nation.