A Fish Takes A Nap

The fish bowl was dirty, so I told my son that it needed to be cleaned out soon. The next mornng, his mother helped him clean it, and later that afternoon, my son fed the fish and came downstairs to talk to his mother. She said, "What have you been up to?"

"I just fed my fish, but he's taking a nap."

"A nap?"

"Ya, he's sleeping."

(pause) "How do you know he's sleeping?"

"He's lying on his side."

"Um....dear.... I think your fish might be dead."

"No, I just saw him swimming earlier today."

"Did you see him eat?"

"Well, no..."

The fish was given a buriel at sea ten minutes later. My three children, with drawn faces, watched in quiet as the fish was dumped into the toilet and flushed. Death is never an easy concept, even when it involves a fish.

Haircut observations

"The person who cuts your hair gives you squiggly hair," declares Marcus.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes. and he gives me handsome hair."

PAUSE

"And he gives Nate thick hair."

"Yes, I believe you're right," say I.

Accidentpurpose

"Sometimes I do things on accidentpurpose," said Marcus.

"Accidentpurpose? Do you mean by accident, or on purpose?" I asked.

"I mean by accidentpurpose. It's not by accident and it's not on purpose. It's both."

"Oh, I see..."

"But you can't get arrested...right, Dad?"

"No, I wouldn't think so..."

scusemenoproblem

I wouldn't normally write on the topic of...well, "breaking wind." Not the typical blog entry or conversation starter. But in this case, I'm compelled to dedicate a brief couple lines to the topic.

I happen to love the age of four. It's one of my favorites. Each of my three children, after they have turned four, have been a constant source of laughter and entertainment. Parenting is hard work, as anyone with a child can relate, but the words and phrases that come from their mouths at this age are priceless and make the whole parenting gig worthwhile.

Seeing the world through a young child's eyes is refreshing and life-affirming, and my youngest always delivers. His current phrase is, "scusemenoproblem"(Excuse me no problem). Every time the child's bottom speaks, he reply's in a low monotone voice, "scusemenoproblem." If in fact, his bottom happens to speak in succession, M will reply, "scusemenoproblem, scusemenoproblem, scusemenoproblem." Of course, I must tell you, that now the whole family has adopted, scusemenoproblem.

Do you have any idea how difficult it is to feed your children healthy, nutritious food? Having just read, In Defense of Food, and watched, Food Inc., I can tell you it's downright hard, if not nearly impossible. I highly recommend both the book and the movie to all who want to become educated about the food that goes into their bodies. It's very disturbing.

As a result of reading Michael Pollen's, In Defense of Food, Jen and I have changed the way we eat and shop at the store. If, for example, bread isn't made with four ingredients, we don't buy it. We basically shop on the peripherial of the store and avoid the middle aisles, if at all possible. No, we haven't become militant about it. I still like my Doritos or an Oreo every so often. But we are much more careful about what we offer our children and what we put into our own bodies. 1 in 3 children born after 2000 will develop type 2 diabetes. The amount of sugar and high fructose corn syrup going into our kids bodies is off the charts. It pays to be educated and not a victim to the four corporations that control all of the food in this country.

One final note: As someone who loves food, taking some time to prepare fresh, flavorable food, and making time to sit down as a family and share that meal together is what it's all about. Long live delicious, healthy food, quality chocolate, and a fine wine!

A Lesson in Bowling Humility

The risk of having an intraverted girl in-between two attention seeking, high energy boys, is that it's far too easy to not pay attention to her. It's not intentional, mind you. It's just that you have this intense male energy always in your face! Don't get me wrong, I love the energy. But I worry about my six-year-old daughter. She's so perceptive and sensitive, and I worry that all of my current actions will end up being discussed at length on some ugly mustard colored couch with a well intentioned therapist -- we'll call him Seymour.

Anyway, to ensure Seymour doesn't get his mental Freudian grips on my daughter's mind, I decided to take action. I sat L down and said, "Would you like to do something just with me?"
She nodded her head yes. "Do you like golf?" To my amazement, she shook her head yes again, but it was too cold outside for that idea. I thought of another idea. "Do you like bowling?" Again, she nodded her head in agreement. "That does it!" I said. "Let's go."

So off we went to the bowling ally. She picked out her pink ball and wobbled over to the line. Her little torso jerked to one side and then jerked back, sending the ball crashing down the lane. It slowly rolled, going from one bumper to the other until it reached the pins, knocking down all but two! "Great shot!" I yelled.

As soon as I picked up my ball, I realized something awful. I had injured my forearm several days before and it hurt to simply hold the ball. But, I couldn't not bowl! Not now! Resolute, I eyed the pins and awkwardly went gliding to the line. As soon as my arm descended with the ball I could feel the shooting pain. I dropped the ball sending it directly into the gutter. My face blanched like Charlie Brown's after an embarrassing moment. When the ball returned, I again sent it in the gutter. I looked at my little girl's face as I walked, deflated and humiliated, and saw the great big grin spread from one cheek to the other. She was just so giddy that she could bowl better than her daddy. Yes, I bowled the worst game of my life. My six-year-old beat me by 20 points! But you know... it's as it should be. How often can a little kid beat their father at anything - for real.

Burl Ives doesn't cut it with three-year-olds.

We sat on the couch, the five of us, silently enjoying the holiday classic, Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer. A family favorite that for us, always ushers in the Christmas season. Our children, ages ten, six, and three, enjoy it almost as much as their parents! Well, almost.

In the beginning, if you recall, there is a snowman narrator, played by Burl Ives. He tells the story and sings irritating little songs, like "Silver and Gold." Well, Marcus (the three-year-old) watched him intently in the beginning. Didn't say a word. Later, when he popped up again with his umbrella - you know, after one of the scenes with the Bumble (My personal favorite), Marcus said in a very solumn voice, "I hate that fat guy." It broke us all up.