matching tracksuits

fun in threes, sometimes fours

the boy

Playing and Destroying

Sunday 27 September 2015 | 0 Comments

"Daddy, will you play with me?"

Some day, I know, I will regret not taking as many opportunities as I could have to play with my children. It's certainly a regret most parents have, I would say, no matter how much time they actually spent with their children.

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This weekend, with the rainy weather keeping us inside, we were together most of the time. But I spent a large amount of time grading papers. Late Saturday morning, I sat with E on my knees, grading papers online as he played with cars and shoved various items in my way. Saturday afternoon, I headed to the basement for more grading and fewer distractions. And Sunday morning, it was a mix of grading papers and hanging out with the kids -- mostly the former. Sixty papers graded in one weekend. And the price?

I justify it with the realization that it's just the unit my English I Honors kids are working on now. Lots of writing -- lots of it -- to form the foundation for the entire year. Once we finish this unit (about a week to go), everything will calm down. But there will always be something I could do for school, so perhaps I'm just fooling myself.

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But I smart enough to realize that when E asks me point blank, "Daddy, will you play with me?" that I'd be a fool not to. (I'm a fool occasionally.)

So we built a few things with blocks and knocked them down again. Which was more fun? The knocking down, of course.

Rainy Saturday

Saturday 26 September 2015 | 0 Comments

Lake Jocassee

Sunday 20 September 2015 | 0 Comments

Trains

Saturday 19 September 2015 | 0 Comments

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Apples and Pairs

Monday 14 September 2015 | 0 Comments

Evening Walk

Wednesday 09 September 2015 | 0 Comments

After a few administrative matters were taken care of -- moving the car, taking the trash out to the street -- we headed out this evening for a brief walk. As we headed up the street, K playfully commented on how dirty L was.

"Well, if I had to choose between a child who is filthy," I said, "and a child who is obsessed about being clean, I'd have to go with the filthy child. At least it's a sign that she's outgrown her princess phase."

The Boy, of course, has still not outgrown his machine obsession.

Too Many Toys

Wednesday 02 September 2015 | 0 Comments

Every night whoever has Boy Duty (as opposed to Girl Duty) reads to the Boy, and my selection tonight was Too Many Toys by David Shannon of No, David! fame (one of the best children’s books of all time). The story was a little predictable: “Spencer had too many toys,” it begins, and the astute child or the typical adult will guess where this is going.

Tonight, we reached the page that showed all of Spencer’s toys spilling down the stairs. “Spencer liked to make his toys into a parade that stretched from one corner of the house to the other and back again!” E pointed to the huge line of toys and said, “He poured them all out.”

“Yes,” I laughed. “I know someone else who likes to pour his toys out.”

E looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, then concluded, “Babcia doesn’t.”

Indeed. Every time we visit Babcia, she complains, only partially in jest I’m convinced, that she’ll be glad when we’re all gone and she can get back to normal. “No more toys here, there, and everywhere!”

No, Babcia would not be a fan of Spencer’s train of toys.

After a thoughtful second, E continued: “I do too.” Up went his eyebrows as they always do when he’s about to raise an index finger to emphasize a point. “But I clean up.” Another small pause. “Sometimes.”

“I’m Going to Poland”

Saturday 29 August 2015 | 0 Comments

Ever since we returned last month from our visit to Poland, the Boy has been obsessed, absolutely obsessed, with going to Poland. He constantly asks when we’re going back, and when we finally explained that we won’t be going back for a long time, he simply declared, “We’ll I’ll go alone.”

“And how will you get to the airport?”

“Mama will take me.”

Every Saturday morning, when talking to Babcia via Skype, he proclaims, “Idę do ciebie!”

Since then, he’s been packing. He’ll pack up toys into a box and declare, “This is for Poland.” He’ll put things in a pile and explain that “this is for Poland.” The other night we couldn’t find his toothbrush because he’d packed it in with his toys “for Poland.”

When we ask him what he’s going to do in Poland, he explains that he’s going to play.

“You can play here. Anything else?”

“I’m going to Poland to visit my friend Babcia.”

Jumping Redux

Friday 28 August 2015 | 0 Comments

Out With the Old

Wednesday 26 August 2015 | 0 Comments

If there is one thing I hate more than going to shop for a new cell phone, I don’t know what it is. I hate shopping for just about anything (with a few unhealthy exceptions), but cell phone purchases are at the very bottom of my list. You go into an electronics store and everyone is so excited about the new XYZ and the incredible DEF and the improved KLW — and it just leaves me baffled. It’s a tool, nothing more, nothing less, but I suppose in the age of iPhones and Galaxies, it’s more than that to most people.

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K and I don’t upgrade our phones often. Indeed, we don’t upgrade them ever. Until recently, I was happy to hobble along with my half-broken piece of junk. Then, coming home on the bike, I got caught in a downpour and the phone got soaked in my bike bag, putting it out of its misery.

In a way, I was thrilled. No more phone, period. I don’t have to remember to pick it up in the morning; I don’t have to remember charge it; I don’t have to think about it — heaven. But there are times when even a phone curmudgeon like me has to admit that a phone can be fairly useful. Emergencies, for example. So despite my hesitations and protestations, we upgraded.

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The upshot of that was I could finally do what I always wanted to do to my phone. L enjoyed getting in on it, too.

Yet the Boy was a little upset about it. “Why are you breaking your phone?” he asked, genuinely concerned. I explained that it was already broken and that L and I were just being silly, and so soon he was stomping away too, chirping, “I love breaking phones!” It was at that point that K and I thought a little addendum might be in order…