The Quotable Toddler, Part Two

In which we are reminded that we parents are indeed quotable, too.


We're sitting down for lunch, Declan, Amy and I, and Elsie is sleeping in the next room. It's a nice, peaceful, quiet time. Rockwell would have liked to paint it.

Declan takes a few bites, then looks over at the swing, where Elsie is most of the time when we're at the table. He furrows his brow and shouts out...

"Damn it! Where's Elsie?"

Stunned silence. For a beat.

Then Amy and I look at each other and, wordlessly, implore each other not to laugh.

Which lasts roughly seven seconds, and then it's let loose. Guffaws.

I'm sorry Nana. I really, really am.

And How To Make Your Daddy Cry

David here.

I just signed in to post that note from Amy and saw Kaleigh's entry.

So, if you're wondering, that's how you make your Daddy cry.

How To Make Your Mommy Cry

This is Amy writing.

The other night, as I was putting PJs on Declan he said, "Mama, don't leave Declan."

I, of course, just thought he meant, "Hey lady don't leave me up on this changing table" so I quickly said, "I won't, son.”

Then he smiled at me and said, "You came back from the library."

I realized he was glad I hadn't left him earlier in the day when I hopped out of the car, leaving the kids in the back while I ran the 30 feet to return some books in the drop box at the library.

I told him I'd be right back, but maybe he worried?

So I got a bit choked up and croaked out something along the lines of, “Mommy loves you and will never, ever leave you.”

He smiled sweetly and said, "That's a good choice Mommy."

Quite the Life Lesson

Well, hey. I decided to break up my dad's string of posts and write a little something of my own because:
1. He said I could
2. I need an outlet besides MySpace because 70% of my friends there could quite possibly still think that the Earth is flat and that Ugg boots are extremely fashionable. (They are called Ugg for a reason)
3. I'm without something to do because It's 6 p.m. on Friday here at Virginia Tech, and we all know that no one goes out until 10

So here we go.

As I am sitting in what could be the epitome of a college student's apartment; our kitchen is plagued with Hot Pockets, white walls are covered with the faces of ancient musical artists, a beer can rests outside our window in a bush, I'm thinking about last month when I was on "the phase." You know the one I'm talking about. The one where your mind is constantly pounding with questions about the world. Life. Religion. Existance. Any other confusing and frustrating cliche you could imagine, goes streamlining through your head. I go through this phase about every 8 months, but this time, it was somehow so much more consuming. I spent a week in a solid slump searching for answers in what is a ridiculously small amount of knowledge in my young adult head.

And it hurt. I don't know why, but it did. I fought and fought and fought and tried my hardest to solve the meaning of life, but it never happened, and it brought me to tears.

A few days before I left to come back up to Tech, I was walking around downstairs and my dad must have noticed I was having some trouble because he came up to me, kissed me on the head, and said "I love you." He couldn't have said anything more perfect. This is the truth, those three words that are so insignificant, yet so freaking powerful you can't even comprehend. It is the truth, and it is the answer. Oh, I know there is a 99.9% possibility that I am wrong and that some great omnipotent power (if there is one) is laughing his ass off at my elementary deduction, but for now, this satisfys me.

Love. You know that feeling. Where some snowballing mass of happiness shoots from your feet to your throat and then sits there as it forces you to smile, laugh, cry, sing, or even just sit quitely in bliss if only for a few seconds.

So sitting here on my torn couch with Phish playing in the background, I think back to Christmas break where I spent an entire month with the people that I love. With Declan, Elsie, Dad, Amy, Carlin, my mom, my 53453 cousins and aunts and uncles in Maine, Vermont, Virginia, is where I am happy. My family and my best friends are what make this wildly confusing and frustrating life of mine so incredibly worth it.

So to quote John Lennon and the rest of The Beatles,
All you need is love, love, love is all you need.

Signs Of The Apocalypse

I don’t know if I’m just becoming a misanthrope, but lately I’ve been seeing more and more indicators that we are in deep, deep trouble in this country. Since we’re on the road to hell, I figured I’d share.

I mean, the more the merrier. Even on the way to hell.

So this will be a recurring feature in our blog: Signs Of The Apocalypse.

Two things have come up recently that will serve as this first installment.

The first one: several times in the past few months I’ve had this exchange, or something eerily similar to it, with various clerks/operators/general service industry reps. This is the conversation I had with the pharmacist yesterday as I tried to pick up a prescription for Amy’s strep throat.

Pharmacist: “Last name?”

David: “O’Donnell.”

P: “Hyphenated?”

D: “I’m sorry?”

P: “Is it hyphenated?”

D: “My name?”

P: “Yes.”

D: (blank stare)

P: “Does it have, like, a hyphen, like one of those things, those little quote marks?”

D: “Ah, apostrophe. Yes. O apostrophe D O N N E L L.”

P: “Thank you.”

D: (mumbling) “Madre mia...”

This is the pharmacist. Who hands out drugs to people every day. Hyphenated. I mean, what if the young George Bailey weren’t working there that day to see that the poison had been mixed in…

Sign of the apocalypse.

The second one: Pat Robertson, that twisted lunatic multimillionaire who poses as a man of the cloth, recently announced that, since Landmark Communications is selling The Virginian-Pilot (the main paper here in the Hampton Roads area), he’s considering buying it.

Great. The man already controls the minds of far too many people in this area, and now he might control the paper? I mean this is the guy who said feminism makes women kill their kids and become lesbians, who called for the assassination of Hugo Chavez, who chimed in with Falwell that 9/11 was caused by gays and abortionists, who said he himself prayed away a hurricane, who used his non-profit as a cover for a massive diamond trade out of Liberia, who… well, I could go on, but I won’t.

The thing is, he makes all these claims from his plush offices just a few miles from where we live, and he has a lot of influence around here, and he freaks me the hell out. And if he buys the paper: sign of the apocalypse.

(For those keeping score, The Virginian-Pilot is indeed hyphenated.)

Adventures

Last week Fatboy sent everyone an article (http://www.drive.subaru.com/Winter08_Feature.asp), an excerpt from a book about the importance of getting kids outside so they can connect, personally and physically, with the natural world.

The author makes in interesting point about how, back when we were kids, we were outside a lot and knew the world immediately around us, but didn’t really think about nature in a larger sense -- and that nowadays, the reverse is true: kids don’t know their back yards much but they know about global warming and recycling.

Anyway, for the last few months, Amy and I have been trying hard to go on what we call Adventures every weekend.

Saturday mornings often start with, "Declan, wanna go on an Adventure?"

"Yeah!" and he’s running for the door.

We pack the kids in the car, head out, strap the baby on with the Bjorn and wander. A few favorites:

The Hoffler Creek Wildlife Preserve, just a few miles from our house. Strange to find a wildlife sanctuary in Portsmouth, but there it is. That’s where the photo above was taken. It’s got a lake and some surrounding marshlands, with trails. Usually there are birders quietly walking around with binoculars, hoping to spy the rare Blue Bellied Babbling Blusterer -- which Declan just flushed out by running past and screaming, “Let’s throw rocks in the water!” It’s an easy place to get to for a quick wander before nap. One time Kaleigh came with us and I remember it as one of those magical hours I’ll always remember.

The Chesapeake Arboretum. A winding collection of trails (in which we got lost our first time out. Note to self: pick up the map next time) through the woods. It’s very near a business and hospital area, so when you’re there, in the woods, listening to the birds and looking up the trunks of towering pine trees, it’s funny to think there’s a Wal-Mart right over there that you can’t really picture from inside. It’s here that we taught Declan Poohsticks -- one of Kaleigh’s favorites when she was young -- which consists of throwing a stick into the upstream side of a stream from a bridge, then running to the downstream side to watch it come out from underneath. He loves it. Who wouldn't?

Chicks Beach. The beach at the Chesapeake Bay. It has all the sand and water and seagulls and shells we need without all the madness that can sometimes come at the Oceanfront. Declan currently has a love-fear relationship with the ocean and bay. He’s totally intrigued, but it freaks him out a little sometimes. I remember Kaleigh going through phases of loving and being terrified of the ocean. Chicks Beach got a thumbs up from Mom when she last visited -- this is where I think she and Dad should get a condo for wintering here in the south.

Seashore State Park. A beautiful and huge nature preserve in Virginia Beach with lots of walking and biking trails, bridges for Poohsticks, Spanish moss, osprey nests, turtles, roots. “What are those, Declan?” “Roots!” “What are they for?” “So the trees can drink!” Declan’s good enough to put up with our questions -- and of course his answering doesn’t slow him down from kneeling to check out a bug, running his fingers along bark furrows or collecting rocks.

Norfolk Botanical Gardens. It’s always been a beautiful place to go and lose yourself in great gardens and walkways, but recently they built a kid section that Declan loves. It’s got fountains for wading through in the summer and a few exhibits about different cultures and landscapes that include things to crawl on and through. Mom and Dad got us a season’s pass for Christmas so I’m sure we’ll be visiting much more often now.

These Adventures are so good for all of us, to be out there, together, breathing fresh air and checking out the endlessly fascinating details of the world. Oh, and throwing rocks in water, which remains Declan’s favorite pastime.

Come join us.

The Quotable Toddler, Part One

Because we should all find beauty everywhere we can.



Declan sits on the potty after bath as he ususally does. He begins to pee and his face lights up. He calls out, "Hey! It looks like a waterfall!"

And waterfalls are beautiful.

Rough Days Are Worth It

On Saturday after my (not exactly) weekly ride with the guys from the bike shop downtown, we were sitting outside a coffee shop having a cup when Jeff asked how the kids were doing. I told him about Declan getting sick on Friday, a fairly standard cold with a slight fever and some intestinal yuck, and how when he gets sick it primes him for asthma attacks.

“See, that’s why I’m not ready to have kids. That scares the piss out of me, “ said Jeff.

It’s true. Any good parent knows that having kids –- actually having anyone you care about deeply –- can be scary. You put someone in your heart and it can be rough going.

Declan of course quickly shared his illness with Elsie, so she’s had an uncomfortable couple of days.

This weekend, Kaleigh left to go back to school.

Last night, Mom had to go to the hospital.

All painful. But all painful because these people are deep in my heart.

Maybe that’s why some people don’t let others in. Why they disassociate from their family. Why they don’t settle down with one partner. Why they don’t have kids.

Self-preservation, maybe only at a subconscious level.

Not for me, thanks. I'd be nothing without these people.

It’s a sentiment perhaps made trite by overuse, but Elizabeth Barrett Browning had it right when she said it was so much better to take the risk of love.

Amy and I will help Declan through this immediate illness and hopefully his body will grow out of the asthma. Elsie’s gonna be fine -– especially since, thanks to Amy, the wee lass has the perfect food to get and stay healthy. Kaleigh’s a grown woman now and though she goes away, she loves us and will never really be gone. And I just got a great phone call from up north: things are looking positive for Mom –- who’d hate that I’m mentioning her here so I won’t go into details.

So Jeff, my cycling friend, have those kids. It’s scary, but it’s worth it.


And finally, Maureen, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU for being there fore Mom and Dad. It’s so difficult being this far away, and I can’t tell you how much comfort comes from knowing you and Patrick are right there.

David

Start Your Engines

Amy and I have been saying for a while that so many funny and amazing and scary things happen as we stumble through life with these most excellent kids we need to write them down.

Well, here we are, writing them down.

So, to start things off, this is us:

Elsie, the youngest. Clearly more wise than either of her parents. I mean, come on: look at those eyes.

Declan, the middle fella. Wide open, hilarious and the quintessential charmer who slays the ladies.

Kaleigh, the eldest. So gorgeous it fairly scares me to death -- a wonderful young woman with a big heart, a sharp wit and a sweet love for the little ones.

And us, Amy and David. This is us on our honeymoon, at the bar in Costa Rica that we went to every night to watch the sunset, have a drink and listen to the spider monkeys do whatever it is spider monkeys do so very loudly in the dimming light of a jungle at sunset.

Does it look like we're holding onto each other for dear life? Perhaps so. It's like we knew, even then, that the romantic dinners out a few times a week, the six or eight movies each month, the lazy Sunday mornings were about to be put on hold for a while.

I think, by the way, that that might have been the last time we really got a good night's sleep...

But damn it's been worth it.

Hopefully more to come soon.

David