Sitting Up

Yep. That's what that kid is doing. The first reliable sightings of controlled sittings were about a week ago. Since then he's been sitting like a champ where ever he can.

The Race

Notwithstanding my recent rant about Vivian being my witness and my trying to be a good son, my dad and I are already like room mates in need of some separation.

I don't like to wait. I start late and drive fast to get wherever. I feel physically queasy if I'm not the last person to hurry into an airplane. I hate doctors because they always make you wait. So I have to invoke some inner zen calmness when I walk with my dad. He's excruciatingly slow. And then he completely stops and looks at something for a while. Or pokes at a dead leaf with the pointy end of his hiking pole.

So the other day we step out to go to the grocery store. He asks if we are driving. I need to invoke that inner zen and say "Yes. We are driving. You walked to Central Market once four years ago. It takes us 15 minutes to walk down and around the corner to your house." He says "No - I walk to my house in 5 minutes".

In a flash I whip out my iPhone and start the stopwatch. He gets this steely look in his eyes and shuffles down the porch steps. Once he hits the sidewalk, he's practically running. At first I'm a bit worried. Then I start to imagine the music from Chariots of Fire. My dad picks up speed. We careen down the street and lurch up the next one. At the doorstep of his house my stopwatch reads 8:47. I'm impressed. But I say "See, not 5 minutes". He catches his breath and says "I could do it in five. I was taking it easy."

Jesus Loves You*

Imagine you are a good christian (some of you are going to have to image pretty damn hard). Then imagine that you send your daughter to a school where they tell her every week that there is no god.

So I choose to ignore certain aspects of Vivian's otherwise very satisfactory education. Meanwhile, chapel can cause some funny moments at home.

The other day Vivian started to sing a song about Jesus. But she couldn't remember all the words. Jo looked up the song on the internet and played back a rather gospel-ish version. Vivian enjoyed it and we joked that she might raise a few eyebrows in chapel if she burst forth in tune the next time. Then Vivian ran around the house singing the song for a while. I was in the kitchen with Evan when she again forgot some words. "Daddy - what are the words after such-and-such?"

I admitted that I didn't know. She asked why I didn't remember it from church when I was a kid. As plainly as I could, I told her that I didn't go to church as a kid or an adult.

She chewed on that for a moment then raised her voice so that Jo in the other room would be able to hear. "Mommy - we need to teach Daddy the song because he didn't learn it when he was little."

Evan and I chuckled.

*I can't remember the words of the song or what it was called, but these three words were frequently enough mentioned in the lyrics to be able to stand in for the title.

Oh Shit Again

I was in the kitchen and Vivian and Devyn were quietly playing in the play room. Vivian was cutting paper with her crinkle-cut scissors. Suddenly I hear her say "Oh Shit!".

Me: "Vivian - what did you say?"

Vivian: "Nothing."

Me: "Sounded like something."

Vivian: "I said Oh Man."

Me: "Really? Didn't sound like that at all."

Vivian: [eye roll] "OK Daddy - I said it."

Me: "Why?"

Vivian: "I don't know."

Me: "Who did you learn it from?"

Vivian: "Mommy and Grandma and Aunt Colle. You say it sometimes Daddy."

[and she blames a certain cousin who will remain un-named]

Me: "We are grown-ups. It's a grown-up word."

Then I think about it a bit. And add "If you must use it, make sure there are no grown-ups around".

"Oh shit" was Vivian's first recognizable words (She Speaks 05/2008). I cursed like a sailor when I was a kid - I just didn't do it in front of my parents or teachers or other grown-ups of consequence. I'd prefer that Vivian and Evan learn what to say when, where and to whom rather than pretend that certain words are censored.