Category: Miscellaneous

Boy oh boy, there are a lot of decisions being made around our house these days. Mr. 3-year-old Finny is testing out boundaries like it’s his job (which, I suppose, it is!). Never shy with an opinion, he’s started experimenting with if/then statements as well as linking together completely disparate ideas or actions. Here are a few examples:

“I will get out of bed now, but I want to stay in my peej (pajamas) for a little while. I will get dressed after breakfast.”

“If Henry’s going to play with my ice cream truck, I’m not going to go into the kitchen with you.”

“I am going to play with my legos over here, and you should go into the kitchen and clean up.”

“First, I am going to eat my banana chips. Then I will eat my toast, and if I am still hungry, I might want a little yogurt.”

“I want to play in the backyard, so we should skip bath tonight.”

He’s also still quite interested in freestyling when it comes to his bedtime routine. This has evolved to a regular little ritual. Finny and Dad-o do “talk a little bit,” then he and I do our song. After I say goodnight and leave the room, Finny gets up, goes to the bathroom (even though he just did that at bathtime), then goes back to bed. The other night he took it a few steps further and after a few minutes of overhearing him rustling around in his room, I opened the door to find the bathroom lights on, his bedroom lights on, his bedroom door open, and him standing in the middle of the rug, seemingly trying to decide what to do next! We settled on a minute of backrubbing, followed by his committment to staying in bed.

A recent cosmological discussion at Chez Nack:

Me: “Did you have a good weekend, Finny?”
F: “Yeah!… Are the days hooked together?”
Me: “Yep. The days & nights hook together like train cars.”
F: “Yeah! And they’re pulled by a big engine–a Sky Engine!”

Not to be left out, Henry pointed at a very diffused sun & said, “Look like… big truck!” So now maybe we’ll have a great debate of prime movers, Sky Engines vs. Sky Trucks. 🙂

Back when we decided Finny was big enough to sleep in his big-boy bed, we were absolutely amazed that once he was tucked in for his nap or for the night, he stayed in there and just slept. There were zero attempts at sneaking out of his room, or sleeping in chairs, or on the floor. He loved his bed, and like his mom, he loved his sleep, so it has always been smooth sailing when it comes to bedtime.

Of course, nothing lasts forever…Lately Finny has been keenly interested in finding out what’s going on outside his room after he goes to bed.

Visit #1: It started when he simply wasn’t sleepy at bedtime, so after about an hour of chatting and singing to himself in bed, he got up to use the bathroom. We heard him shuffling around in the bathroom and decided to see what he would do next. Sure enough, a little blond head appeared behind the door, grinning at us, asking us what we were doing. (We were slumped on the couch watching mindless, TV! What else would we be doing at 9:15pm on a Tuesday?) John got up, escorted Finny back to bed, and chatted with him in the dark while rubbing his little back for awhile. Eventually, Finny fell asleep.

Visit #2:  Once again Finny proclaimed he wasn’t sleepy, and appeared behind the bathroom door again, gently asking if one of us would rub his back, as he was sure that would help him sleep. I went in, we sang, I rubbed the back, and he went to sleep a little while later.

Visit #3: The next night, John and I went upstairs to play Scrabble while we watched TV, so we turned all the lights out downstairs (except for the nightlight in the hall). We were both expecting our small visitor, and were curious to see if he’d figure out we were upstairs. Answer: Yep! We heard his bedroom door open, his little footfalls on the steps, and saw him peek around our bedroom door. He sauntered in with a casual “What are you guys doing?”, checked out what was on TV, and acted as if he might stay awhile! The “back to bed” drill was enacted again.

Visit #4: We thought everything was great–hadn’t heard a peep from Finny after he went to bed, so we went upstairs and went to sleep. At some point in the deep dark middle of the night, I awoke to find him standing right in front of my face, waving a Kleenex around, calmly asking for help blowing his nose. A bit freaked out, I complied, and he took himself back to bed. The following day we discussed his ability to blow and wipe off his own nose without having to come all the way upstairs to ask me for help. He replied “I will never ever do that again.” I clarified that he should definitely come upstairs if anything was wrong–like he didn’t feel good, or was scared, or couldn’t sleep, but not just for nose-blowing.

Visit #5: Last night, Finny went to bed on time, we sang our song and turned out the lights. 12 seconds later he appeared in the kitchen to tell me he wasn’t tired yet and couldn’t sleep. I laughed and said he hadn’t even really tried yet, and to please go back in. 15 minutes later when John arrived from picking up grown-up take-out food, out pops Finny, asking for some of Dad-o’s trademark “talk a little bit” and backrubbing, which he was confident would help him sleep.  That was the last we heard from him.

I wonder what he’ll come up with tonight!

The eldest Micronack has suffered a significant loss this week. Sadly, while we were cavorting on the beach on Easter Sunday, Finny’s Thomas engineer hat got lost. We’re not even really sure when it happened–we just know that it was super windy that afternoon, and as I was changing Finny out of his cold, soaking wet clothes into some dry ones, the hat disappeared in the blustery chaos. It’s not just Finny who’s bummed out. We are all sad. That hat is just as much a part of Finny as his buddy Leo! No exaggeration, he’s worn it all day every day for almost a year. There was some justified frowning and pouting from our boy on the way home, and Dad-o and I had to start thinking about how we would replace his cherished cap.

We found a decent substitute online, and ordered it right away. It’s not exactly the same, but it does have Thomas on the front and the railroad crossing sign on the sides. As Finny and I were discussing our trip to the beach last night at bedtime, I asked him what his favorite part of the day was. He enthusiastically replied “going into the water!,” and then quickly and somberly followed up with “But losing my Thomas hat was not so good.” I agreed with him, and assured him that we’d found a new one and it should arrive in the mail within the next few days. I said “It’s not exactly like your old one, but I think you’ll like it.” He looked at me, smiled, and said, “I think I’ll like it, too.”

The upside is that we get to enjoy the rare treat of seeing Finny’s beautiful blond wavy hair until the new hat arrives. 🙂

On a flight last summer, I had the misfortune of scoring a middle seat next next to a tremendously drunk young guy. When he wasn’t passed out from the three cocktails Southwest had served him (for a 50-minute flight!), he began LOUDLY serenading me (and the rest of the cabin) with slurred info about his life. He couldn’t shut up about how his girlfriend was blonde (“BLAAAHNDE!!”) and hot (“HAAAAWT!!”), sharing way too much detail & repeating himself over and over.

Having “enjoyed” his performance art for two hours (thanks to bonus time stuck waiting for a gate), I finally escaped with my wits somewhat intact. At home I treated Margot & nearby Finn to a recap, making the little guy ask, “What is ‘Blaaande‘? What is ‘Haaaawt‘?” I tousled his hair and explained that *he’s* blonde–to which he added, “And hot!!”

This week as I prepared to head to Germany, Finn asked out of the blue, “Is the ‘Blonde, Hot’ guy gonna be on there?” I told him I sure hoped not! Even better, Henry–who’s clearly been on full record mode & is ready for some playback–started chiming in from the next room: “Blaaaand… hawwwt!!” What a proud dad I am. 🙂

Yesterday as Mom-O did a 10-mile walk (putting the “go go” in “Margot”), the guys and I fooled around with neighborhood trash cans, “rescuing” some discarded Swiffers & mops from the gutter. (Hey man, cheap thrills, and they were as happy as clams!) After hauling home our loot, we spent much of the day redistributing leaves around our driveway; here’s a photo.

Soon enough it was time for me to head off to my flight to Hamburg, where I’ve now landed. Finn, recalling our extensive pirate lore, said, “Dad-O, if you run into any pirates, maybe you could bring a broomstick and beat ’em with it!” After we discussed the general incompatibility between long wooden truncheons & airline carry-on policy, he agreed, “Yeah, maybe you could just get a broom handle while you’re over there.”

And to that I say, Avast! Time to Swiff some scallywags into the sea!

Margot kids me for my “grandma stylings,” slinking around the house with a blanket over my shoulders. Finn spied me like this on a recent cold morning:

Finn: “Hey, I see you’re wearing a cape! I’m going to take it off you.” (proceeds to try)
Me: “No, but I’ll be cold!”
Finn: “It’s okay, Dad-O. I’ll just hug you to keep you warm.” (proceeds to wrap himself around my legs)

Heartwarming & leg-warming, all at once. 🙂

I interrupt our regular lad reportage to mention how proud we are of Mom-O & her ongoing race training! Today she blazed through the Go Green St. Patrick’s Day Run in nearby Los Gatos, en route to walking a half marathon on May 1st. Way to go, P! We’re so proud of you. (And thanks, by the way, to all our great family & friends who’ve contributed to Margot’s ongoing fundraising efforts on behalf of the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society!)

If Henry someday shoots, I dunno, let’s say President Boehner, people will ask, “Gee, did you ever see it coming?” And everyone who knows Hen will quickly answer, “Oh yes, that’s all he talked about: ‘Getboehner, getboehner, getboehner…!'” In other words, the G-Man gets *reeeeal* focused and obsessive.

Lately he’s utterly focused on garbage cans (pronounced “kahns!!”). For the last couple of weeks he’s constantly begged to go to the window (“Blue one! Black one! Wheels! Tip over! Oh *no*!!”), go outside to push, pull, and inspect cans (“Empty! Water! GarBAAZH!”), and generally discuss them at length. He was so sad when the neighbors finally rolled in their cans, mourning them like phantom limbs. When the baby monitor crackled to life this morning, “Kahns!!” was the first word out of his mouth. And after our little morning visit, he spotted Margot’s Kandinsky print (see above) and announced, “Kahns!!”

So, to any Secret Service folks who might end up reading this, just remember: Keep the kid stocked in Rubbermaid & we’ll have no problems!

When I greet Finny in the morning, I usually ask him something like “How was your night, did you have good sleep?” or “Did you have sweet dreams?”. Sometimes the answer is “Yes, hi Mom-o,” but lately the answer has been “No. It was a baaaaad night,” which is accompanied with a twinkle in Finny’s eye. Then we launch into the following routine:

M: “A bad night, huh? What happened?”
F: “Leo…broke the ceiling again!”
M: “Broke the ceiling?! Oh my goodness! That sounds horrible! What did he do?”
F: “Well he climbed up there, and started hammering the ceiling until it was all broken. I think he had a jackhammer. He broke it into big pieces, and then he threw the pieces in the garbage.”
M: “Wow! But now it’s all fixed! Did he do that, too? Did it keep you awake, all that noise?”
F: “Yeah. It was really noisy. But I helped him fix it and then we went back to sleep [pronounced “sweep”].”

Don’t ask me how we got started on that tangent, because I don’t remember, but clearly it’s something that’s stuck with Finny. He gets a real kick out of bringing it up and riffing on it. We haven’t specifically discussed how Leo gets up there, but I’m guessing jetpack. And it’s always fun to make up stories where Leo is up to mischievous activities. Now that it’s become a regular story, we like to add our own embellishments (which he loves) like “oh yeah, I thought I saw Leo’s head poking up through the floor last night” (our bedroom is right above Finny’s).

[For my part, Finn greeted me after yesterday’s nap by announcing, “I’m a little crossing bell at a train track,” of the sort that swing back and forth. Off to look for his shoes, he noted, “I have to get my dirt”–because in what else would a crossing bell be anchored? –J.]

A few days ago, morning snack-time hit while John was minding the boys (I was marooned upstairs with the stomach flu). He asked Finny what he’d like for a snack, and Finny replied “Cinnamon toast!”, which is currently one of his favorites (much like his Grandpa Liggett). The nanny and I make it for him quite frequently so he’s seen the procedure many times, but John, a self-proclaimed non-cook, was a bit stumped.

Lucky Dad-o has a tiny coach was who was able to talk him through it. He explained to Dad-o that “First you put the bread in the toaster, then when it comes out you put the cinnamon and butter on it, cut it up, and give it to us!” I believe he even helped Dad-o locate the container of cinnamon sugar in the cabinet. Thankfully Dad-o knew that the butter had to go on first, then the sprinkles of cinnamon sugar. I don’t know if Finny and Dad-o discussed the pros and cons of cutting the toast into triangles or squares, as we usually do, but I do know that the toast was summarily inhaled by both Henry and Finny. As Finny might say, “Good job, Dad-o! You get a sticker, a star, and a treat!” (Rewards-based motivational training can be applied to parents!)

The gents and I just wrapped a fun bachelors’ weekend as Mom-O jetted off to New York for a few days with her friend Alethea. Saturday saw us logging major time at multiple parks (chase those hens, Hen! wait, they’re chasing you!), while on Sunday we helped pals Bettie & Quade celebrate their third birthday (complete with some piñata-whacking by Finn). A few pics and videos to follow soon, I hope.

The notable thing is just how independent Finn has started to get. I’m used to Henry rocketing off and/or playing by himself, but Finn has tended to stick to me like white on rice. At the park, however, he cruised off on his own towards some play equipment, leaving his brother and me stranded (sandwich bits strewn all over) out of sight. Once we regained contact, he chose to keep playing on a rather distant slide while the G-Man bounded off elsewhere. And at the party on Sunday, he’d periodically go off and explore with trucks and other toys for what felt like 10+ minutes at a time. Inevitably he’d have little existential freak-outs and start tearfully calling for me, but on the whole he’s really taking new steps.

I write all this solo, appropriately enough, from a gorgeous spot just across the Golden Gate from SF. I’m here for an off-site work event, and I could swear someone has set up outdoor speakers to pipe in seagull chatter and fog horns (nautical authenticity a go-go!). It’s a nice breather from SoloDad duty, but it’ll be nice to give the independence a rest and get the gang back together tomorrow.

When it comes to writing a blog, you’re sometimes advised things like, “Be Yourself, Only Better… Don’t share every little facet of your life, only the charming parts.” On the whole that makes sense, but it can feel a little misleading. That’s why I found this observation insightful:

“Any parent who has posted photos and videos of her child on Facebook is keenly aware of the resulting disconnect from reality, the way chronicling parenthood this way creates a story line of delightfully misspoken words, adorably worn hats, dancing, blown kisses. Tearful falls and tantrums are rarely recorded, nor are the stretches of pure, mind-blowing tedium. We protect ourselves, and our kids, this way; happiness is impersonal in a way that pain is not. But in the process, we wind up contributing to the illusion that kids are all joy, no effort.”

Or, as famous mom-blogger Heather Armstrong described childbirth, “It Sucked and Then I Cried.”

Anyway, we couldn’t be crazier about our guys, and as they get older (and the days longer and the weather warmer), things are only getting better. I just wanted to acknowledge that we do have our ups and downs. And now, back to chronicling the delightfully misspoken words! 🙂

Tonight it was my turn to be the recipient of a spontaneous, unexpected love-bomb shower from Finny. We’d just done our story and were lying in bed (at his request) for a few minutes to do “talk a little bit.” All of a sudden he reached over, gave me a big hug around the neck and said “I love you so much, Toad!” (Toad is one of the characters in the Thomas vids). He continued, “I really really love you a lot” and then proceeded to snuggle up and lay on the smooches and more hugs. Yowza! Talk about a terrific feeling. Rainbows and shooting stars! I of course returned all that affection with even more hugs and smooches, and then bid him sweet dreams. I think my dreams will be pretty sweet, too.

This whole parenting racket can be a grind, but then the guys do some terrific bit that just blows us away.

Last night I had to attend a work function that ran surprisingly late. I was able to scramble and get home just in time to tuck in Finny. He dubbed himself “Thomas” and me “James,” and we laid in our little shed (his darkened bed) talking about our railway adventures. That’s when the laying on of crazy love-bombs commenced. Tipping over, he spontaneously embraced me and said, “I love you! I love hugging you, I love hanging out with you, I love playing with you…!” And when I explained how I’d hurried home, he shot his hands up in the air and exclaimed, “Hooray for James!!” At which point my heart nearly exploded. 😀

Hen, not to be outdone, has been getting more and more playful and chatty. Here’s his novel interpretation of how to use a chef’s hat!

“I have an idea,” reported potty-dwelling Finn last night. “The idea is, maybe when a kid is sitting on the potty, the mom and dad can just take off, and then the kid can shoot some poop or pee into the potty, and then after that he can put a foot stool up to the sink and just climb up to the treats and *haaaup!*, eat one! The kid needs some privacy–that’s the idea.”

Good suggestion, lad. Now we might want to consider hanging one treat (a chocolate-covered pretzel) on a little hook by the sink, such that “the kid” could climb up and help himself to just one treat. (Maybe it could be like a “take a penny/leave a penny” dish: “take a pretzel/take a pretzel.” :-))

Our guys are working on sharing, and inevitably we hit some bumps in the road. Earlier today they were in the sandbox, and after filling up a bucket, Finn lifted it onto a flat spot on our grill–near head height for him. Henry made a beeline for it, and when I attempted to help him reach it, Finn said, “No! I put it up there so that little guys wouldn’t get it!”

Later in the day, Finn was playing with Margot’s curling iron–a practice she’s nixed as he’s liable to break something. I explained the situation, and thinking I’d cleverly reference the earlier bit, I said, “I’m putting the curling iron up high so that little guys can’t reach it.” Finn shot right back, “But I can reach it very easy!!”

Just now in the basement, Finn asked me to tell the same story (about how Grandpa Liggett had sealed up the cat’s old escape hatch) again and again and again.

“I’m a little tired of talking, buddy,” I said. “How about you tell the story?”
“No, you have to do it. I’m not the storyteller!” he protested.
“But why not?” I asked.
“I’m not the expert!!”

Update: Later in the evening, he spied me getting set to push Henry around the basement in a little wagon & said, “Can I do it?? I’m the expert!”–before proceeding to bonk the little guy (gently) into a wall. Apparently expertise is a fairly vague concept. 😉

Lately Finn’s been throwing around some more advanced words (e.g. out of the blue: “I’m not going to have a meltdown today”), and I’m kind of charmed when he doesn’t completely grasp the details. A couple of recent examples:

• “Safekeeping”: Finn likes to hide important objects (particularly Leo) in obscure, often dicey spots, ostensibly for “safekeeping.” Combinations of fragility & precariousness (right by the front door, etc.) are especially popular. “I’m putting your iPad in the sink for safekeeping, Dad-O!,” he proudly declares.
• “I wouldn’t mind…”: The little guy is so kind & patient as to “not mind” if you were to do just what he wants/asks. “I wouldn’t mind if you made me a bunch of bacon, Dad-O,” he says. What an accommodating fella. 😉

Heh–seeing this little cartoon, I had to think of G-Man:

The boy gets an endless kick out of putting progressively more enormous things (e.g. a new panda pillow that’s bigger than his torso) upon his head, looking at us with a smile, and proudly declaring simply, “Hat!” 🙂