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Michael's Diary Entries Diary Navigation: Choose A Diary Entry -------------------- Latest Entry: 8/28/00 -------------------- 8/21/00 8/14/00 8/7/00 8/1/00 7/24/00 7/17/00 7/10/00 7/3/00 6/26/00 6/19/00 6/12/00 6/5/00 5/29/00 5/22/00 5/14/00 -------------------- Michael's Introduction

July 3, 2000

Dear Readers,

Lately one the most rewarding things I’ve felt about parenting is the way it puts me in touch with the basic, the simple, the everyday. My kids have a wonderful knack for making me pause and see the beauty in the ordinary and commonplace, from the delightful pleasure of eating watermelon or corn on the cob to smelling a flower in the garden, from watching a bird in the backyard to seeing the healing power of smile. Each day imagination and innocence combine to create something new, sometimes lovely, sometimes ridiculous, but always worth experiencing. Life slows down with them -- even though it’s moving faster than ever.

All Day, All Nana:
About every other month my wife goes with her mother (Brandon and Allie’s Nana) to visit Nana’s aunt in a northwest suburb of Chicago. The kids enjoy it because the community in which Nana’s aunt lives has a recreation center for kids that’s better than Discovery Zone and the like. It has ball bins and tunnels and mats and mazes, and a carousel and car ride.

This time, when it came time to leave, Brandon decided he wanted to stay with his Nana (further endearing himself to her) and pleaded to go back to her house with her. Of course, Nana gave in even though she was supposed to do some work in the afternoon. So while Nana worked, doing her assorted billing, tracking, and telephone answering, Brandon played beside her desk. He noticed that Nana’s phone rings a lot compared to our house, which unfortunately rings mainly with telemarketers.

With her work finished, Nana and Brandon headed to the store. Or as Nana told it, "Brandon was such a good boy that I decided to take him shopping for some trucks for my house." Nana and Brandon went to the local K-Mart and bought the entire aisle -- almost. I know how this happened. Let me explain. Brandon has mastered the art of getting what he wants at the toy store through the brilliant use of reverse psychology and restraint. He doesn’t throw tantrums or beg for items. He just shows complete innocent wonder and enthusiasm for the item and then willingly surrenders it when asked, causing adults to want to give in to their desire to purchase the item for him and justifying on their surrender on his good behavior. I should have warned Nana.

So Nana ended up buying him a bubble blowing fire truck, a regular fire truck, a police car, and a five-piece construction truck set. And that’s just what she admitted buying. Smart boy: he’s already learned you get more toys with honey than with whinegar.

Leaky Outdoor Plumbing:
I love it when the weather’s nice and we can get out and play. So do the kids, almost as much as I do, I think. Brandon and Allie decided to play with the outdoor chalk, coloring the cement banks that lead up to the garage. I decided to trim back some bushes on the opposite side from them, but I was still able to see them from about the neck up. I clipped, they chalked, and we talked back and forth about what we were doing.

Then Brandon started whimpering. "Oh no not another stupid bug." I thought. "Brandon, what’s wrong. Did you see a bug? I’m sure it’s gone." More whimpers then a full out cry. I walked over and saw Brandon standing in a puddle and the leak still leaking. I strangely thought this was funny and didn’t get upset. Anyway, Brandon was upset enough for both of us. After comforting him, I scooped him and Allie up to go inside for the clean-up. On the way in, Brandon showed his remarkable ability to keep his priorities straight: "Daddy, we come back outside, after we clean me up." That’s what I love about him and his age: Nothing surpasses play.

Fishing Hole Blues:
Ever since his Uncle D gave him a fishing pole on Memorial Day, Brandon has wanted to go fishing. Casting in the yard with the fake plastic fish was no longer enough, so I decided to take him this Friday to the little village lake, an attractive little pool of water filled with assorted pan fish. It turned out to be the shortest fishing trip of my life: ten minutes tops. We came, caught a fished, cried, and left.

The trouble started with baiting the hook. Brandon immediately got a little queasy when I cut the worm in half and wrapped it around the hook. He whined and squirmed when the worm rubbed against his leg while I put the bobber on the line. Things improved briefly when we casted the line out and almost instantly got a bite. We enjoyed watching the bobber bob and reeling in the fish. But the fun ended as soon as Brandon saw the sight of the sad looking fish with a hook in his mouth dangling from the line. This was an especially pathetically sad-looking fish. I took the fish off the hook and threw it back, which relieved Brandon of his torment and sorrow. He smiled when I told him the fish swam away, back to his friends. With the fish and the worm safely away, we walked back to the car and had more fun avoiding the goose droppings and saying, "Watch out for the goose poop" and discussing the qualities of this substance.

Watching our step and putting away the poles,
Michael