Isaac discovered there’s candy in those shiny scraps of paper the boys are hoarding. I don’t know if you’ve ever had a toddler new to walking try to run from you, but it is a tragicomic sight: little hips wiggling to get the wary legs to flop faster, arms out like a wader in a …
I’ve been away on a top secret mission. I want to tell you more but then I would have to hunt all of you down and kill you, and I don’t need that on my conscience. I wish I had a coherent essay or thought to share, but everything floating around in my head lately …
I’m sitting at the kitchen table when Caleb dashes past with his superhero cape on. “Dad, is my cape flying behind me?” He disappears down the hall before I can answer. Thump thump thump thump, here he comes again. “Dad, is my cape flying . . . whoop!” Slip, crash. He disappears from view behind …
I return to the bathroom where only seconds before I had stationed Eli in front of the pot with instructions to tinkle before bedtime. This is important, you see, because otherwise he forgets to go until he is playing with giant chocolate Lego blocks in Dreamland, where instead of toilets they have golden trees that …
To be a proper parent, contrary to what one sees any given Saturday afternoon at McDonald’s, is to train one’s children. What they don’t tell you before they let you take the kid home from the hospital, however, is that being a parent means being trained by one’s children as well. The question is, who …
The children were all tucked into their beds, and my wife and I were settling into that blessed sliver of time when all is quiet in the house and we are actually awake to enjoy it. Then a strange sound drifted from the baby monitor. A gaspy, sucking kind of sound. I raced up the …
Despite what you might think, doing taxes together is not a good means of drawing close to your spouse. I can see how one might expect otherwise, that it could foster a “You and me versus the World” mentality, or simply give occasion for one spouse, say the one who doesn’t have to get up …
If you had to pick the single most demoralizing word in the English language, what would it be? I’ve had a variety of single words hurled at me over the years, but the one word that can most effectively take the wind out of my sails comes in the form of a question. That word …
The very first order given to us by the Almighty was: Don’t touch. Are you listening to me? Hands to yourselves. Don’t. Touch. Very, very bad things will happen if you touch that tree. See here, I’ve given you all these other trees, covered with yummy fruit. Mmmmm. Go enjoy the garden. Ride an elephant. …
A beauty of having little boys is that they can turn even the most mundane of activities into an adventure. This can also be viewed as a challenge, or a danger, or a price of having little boys, depending on your mood and current level of sleeplessness. Take washing hands, for example. You’d think it’s …
Eli is very proud that he can now get a cup from the cupboard on his own, and reach the water dispenser on our refrigerator door with only minimal chance of dousing himself. I know he is proud of this new ability not because he says so, but because right now there are about fifteen …
We’re playing in the back yard, soaking up the last warmth before another cold front rolls in. I’m kicking a miniature soccer ball around and Caleb and Eli are squealing as they chase it, periodically whacking me in the shins with their little sneakers. Caleb has learned to throw his body into mine in order …
Something about being in charge is that to do my job well I have to make someone unhappy every day. If you put enough people in an organization, you almost guarantee that at any moment someone will feel that the pay/workload/recognition/criticism is too low/high/infrequent/unfair compared to what they do/need/want/could get somewhere else/see someone else doing/getting/taking. …
It was a tender moment. I held Eli in my lap last night, and began to sing: “Ba-by Beluga in the deep blue sea Swim so wild and ya swim so free Heaven above, and the sea below . . .” “Stop dat singing.” “You want me to stop?” “Yes. You sang dat song lesterday.” …
The thing about being outnumbered by your children is that there are more of them than you. Just passing along a bit of wisdom, because that’s what I do. The wife and I are heading like punch-drunk fighters into the holiday vacation season, with wonderful attitudes about family, and gift-buying, and Christmas overall. The two …
The boys decided some time ago that I make a good monster. At night they tell me to hide in their closet and then they scurry off to my bedroom, giggling wildly. After a few seconds of conferring, they come sneaking down the hallway to look for me. This always seems to hold a lot …
Ever put off writing a letter until you have the time to make it really special? Then the next thing you know, eight years have gone by, the person you were going to write to hates you, and you can’t remember what you wanted to say in the first place? So I’ve been meaning to …
My wife informed me that during a recent trip to the grocery store, when they passed the aisle with detergents and other cleaning supplies, Caleb announced, “This is the Mommy aisle.” “Why is it the Mommy aisle?” inquired my wife, perhaps already speculating as to the answer. “I guess because God made you that way,” …
Yesterday Caleb, Eli, and I hunched down behind Caleb’s bed and shot at bad guys storming our position from the yard down below. Caleb and Eli used wooden pistols, and I used a toy telescope doubling as a bolt-action sniper rifle. We had no injuries other than one gunshot to my shoulder, which the boys …
It’s late, and Caleb should be asleep, but instead he’s awake and in our bed, curled up in my arms. We talk about his day, and about the difference between a beard and a moustache, and about pizza. He’s so little in my arms, and getting so much bigger each day. Sometimes I see him …
I know, it’s been awhile. You knew that was the arrangement when you first started coming here, so don’t give me the guilt trip. Even though I don’t always write, I often think about you, my faithful and oft-scorned readers. I think I mentioned last time that I started a new job. It’s taken a …
Last night in a fit of frustration I couldn’t remember the oldest boy’s name. “Eli, uh, boy, uh, Caleb, sit down!” With a droll expression well beyond his four years, Caleb replied, “Okay, Mommy.” This reminded me of a game Caroline used to play when she was two, and learning pronouns and gender. “Caroline is …
My children are developing personalities. Caleb, for example, is a persuader. “Daddy, would you like to go to the ice cream place after dinner?” “We’ll see.” “Well, after we eat, we could go to the ice cream place, you know, and I can get a ice cream with sprinkles on it.” “Maybe. You’ll have to …
Fridays seem to be good days for writing about the munchkins. Something Jeff Brokaw wrote in a very kind, thoughtful letter to me has stayed in my mind. He said that I should write more of the good things I remember about Caroline. I haven’t had the good grace to write back to Jeff yet. …
The following tale attests to the pervasive Disneyfication of our culture. It’s important for you to understand, before I tell you what I’m about to tell you, that we don’t let our children watch television. We limit their video intake to a handful of brands, mostly VeggieTales, Thomas the Tank Engine, and Mr. Rogers. We …
I got back Monday evening, and to her credit, the wife showed up at the airport to retrieve me. This could be less a consequence of love than an indication of her pressing need for reinforcements, but I’ll take what I can get. Does the cavalry captain ever stop to ask why the besieged settlers …
Eli is sitting at his little table in the corner of our kitchen, eating Cheerios. This is never a pretty sight, especially when he’s a little snuffly. He sees me watching him, and with much effort he scoots away from the table and toddles over to me. “Kiss?” I survey, with no small amount of …
The problem with little boys and their favorite clothes is that boys grow, clothes shrink, and seasons change. Caleb’s favorite shirt is a thick yellow cotton one. If he were in charge of dressing and clothes washing in our house, he would wear it every day with his “comfy” pants, which used to live up …
Caleb in a rainy parking lot: “I want to walk through the pud muddle. Wait, I mean the rain muddle.” Last night Eli sang his ABC’s for me, but with a slight modification: “A B C D E F G; H I J K, M&M’s and me…”
I don’t think I have a theme today, which would not leave me in good stead with my 7th grade English teacher. Or maybe there is a theme lurking in here somewhere, and that theme is the combination of sweetness and stinkiness that is the little boy. I’m walking a fine line here — a …
