Pumpkin still takes an afternoon nap each day. Kiddo usually doesn't. Every once in a while, though, he'll have "rest time" because he really needs it. Maybe he was up late the night before, maybe he didn't sleep well, maybe he's been whiny all morning.
And, I have to admit, every once in a while, he has "rest time" while Pumpkin's napping because Mommy and Daddy are tired, are about to keel over from sheer exhaustion, and desperately need a nap themselves.
I'll wait for a moment while those of you without children finish passing judgement.
Okay. Ready to continue?
This past Monday was one of those days. We had had a LONG weekend (VERY fun, but long) at a camp staff reunion, we had spent the morning taking care of things around the house, Sweetie's been nursing a cold anyway, and our eyelids were noticably droopy. So off to bed Kiddo went immediately after we had laid Pumpkin down for her nap, with instructions that he could read quietly or color pictures.
And off to bed we went.
When I got up to get the kids a little over an hour later, there was a picture Kiddo had colored sitting on his desk:
At the top, in 5 year-old phonics, he wrote "I AM HAPPY AT U R MI SISOODR."
"I am happy that you are my sister."
Yes, it was for Pumpkin.
It amazes me, honestly, that he never thinks of her as an intrusion in his life. She takes time and attention that we could be giving to him, she sometimes gets in the way when he's trying to do things, or plays with his toys when he doesn't want her to...but he ADORES her. I have NEVER seen a big brother with more love for his little sister than Kiddo has for Pumpkin.
Tonight, Sweetie and I took the kids to the Wick alumni Center at UNL for their first "Football Friday." We got to hear Matt Davison and Tommie Frazier talk football for a while and take questions from the audience, we got to eat Runzas and Vals pizza and have beers and Pepsi products, and Kiddo got his hat signed. Tommie Frazier didn't have a Sharpie on him, so he asked Kiddo if he could borrow ours to sign autographs for the rather lengthy line that formed when he was done speaking. Fun times!
Last Wednesday, my little baby boy (who somehow magically turned from the crying infant we brought home from the hospital into a confident, smart 5 year-old overnight!) began kindergarten.
I can't believe it. I'm the father of a school-aged child. And I could not be any prouder of my little man.
For comparison and contrast, here's Kiddo on his first day of preschool, 2 years ago:
And his first day of kindergarten, last Wednesday:
With the Apostles' Creed under his belt, Kiddo decided he wanted to tackle memorizing the 10 Commandments next. When we started, I did a little bit of re-writing from the traditional wording to make it a little more understandable for a 5 year old. I tried to stay faithful to the original meaning, and while he had some clarifying questions at first about some of the wording (for example, I had to explain that "faithful" in the context of the 6th Commandment meant that husbands and wives loved and supported each other, and didn't do things that would hurt each other), I think he grasped the meaning of what he was learning. Here he is:
For the record, here's the list:
The 10 Commandments (traditional wording in italics, 5 year old paraphrase in bold)
1. You shallhave no other gods before me. Nothing should be more important than God.
2. Do not take the name of the Lord your God in vain. Don't use God's name in bad ways.
3. Remember the Sabbath, to keep it holy. Take a day each week to remember and worship God.
4. Honor your father and mother. Honor your father and mother.
5. Do not kill. Do not kill.
6. Do not commit adultery. Husbands and wives should be faithful to each other.
7. Do not steal. Do not steal.
8. Do not bear false witness against your neighbor. Do not lie about other people.
9. Do not covet your neighbor's house. Do not try to take your neighbor's house from them.
10. Do not covet your neighbor's wife, or cattle, or male or female slave, or ox or donkey, or anything else that belongs to your neighbor. Do not try to take anything else that belongs to your neighbor.
Last summer, Kiddo took part in our church's Vacation Bible School. He loved all of it, but the music especially made a big impact. Each child received a CD of the music they sang that week, and he pulls that CD out whenever anyone comes to visit so he can put on a show.
He LOVES that music.
So a few weeks ago, he felt like rockin' out in the living room. He grabbed a play microphone, cranked up the VBS CD on the stereo, and just started jumping and dancing and yelling out song after song for Sweetie, myself, and the tens of thousands of imaginary fans that suddenly filled our house. After the second or third song, he became the announcer as well as the rock star, and shouted in his best "rock" voice:
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN...IT'S THE MONSTERS OF JESUS!!!!"
He then launched into his next song, but I'll admit I couldn't hear a note because I was laughing too hard.
It's tough trying to be a rock star when your parents think you're so freakin' cute.
The last few weeks, Kiddo and I have been working on learning the Apostles Creed--it's become part of his bedtime routine. Last night, he asked if I could record him saying it.
Of course, proud dad that I am, I was more than willing to oblige. =)
I realize he doesn't understand more than a few words of what he's saying--but just like when he was learning the Lord's Prayer, the comprehension can come later. For now, I'm happy to take advantage of the fact that his brain is a big ol' memorizing sponge. Funny thing--near the end of the creed, instead of proclaiming his belief in the communion of saints, he professes belief in the community of saints.
I'm not gonna correct him. True community is what that line of the creed is referring to anyway.
The video's a little dark...sorry about that. Here goes:
So on Christmas Eve my family decided to attend the 5:30 PM service at church, for basically 3 reasons. First, the next service started at 7, which is typically when Pumpkin gets her bedtime bottle and lays down, and we wanted to keep things as close to schedule as possible for her. Second, the 7 PM service was a candlelight service, and Pumpkin's arms are usually about 10 inches long UNTIL she sees something she wants, then they turn to rubber and can stretch nearly a quarter of a mile.
You think I'm joking. I'm not.
Sweetie and I didn't want her getting in her head that the pretty fire would be something she wanted to grab. There were no candles in the pews at the service we attended.
The third reason was that the 5:30 service was specifically geared toward kids, and we thought Kiddo might get a little more out of it.
As part of worship, there were 3 wrapped "Christmas gifts from God" at the front of the sanctuary. At different times in the service, the pastoral intern would ask for a child volunteer to open one, then he'd do a little sermonette on what was inside. The three gifts were actually words--Joy, Hope, and Peace.
Kiddo thought it was all quite cool, though when the intern finished his talk on "the peace of God," Kiddo looked puzzled.
He turned to me and whispered, "why was he talking about the Pizza God?"
It was all I could do to keep from guffawing right there.
But wait, the story continues.
This past Sunday morning, we were back in church. For any non-Lutherans reading this, most Lutheran worship services end with a call and response between the pastor and congregation. The pastor says, "Go in peace, serve the Lord" (or a variation thereof), and the congregation responds with a rousing "THANKS BE TO GOD!" Supposedly as an affirmation of the joy of serving God out in the world, but when I was a kid it was mostly out of the joy of knowing I was about to eat lunch.
So this past Sunday, Kiddo started laughing after we all said "thanks be to God" at the end of the service. That cute, uncontrollable 5 year old belly laugh. I asked him what was funny, and he responded:
"I said, 'THANKS PIZZA GOD!'"
It's too bad I couldn't tell him how funny I thought that was, because if he had ANY idea, he'd do it every time and I don't want that.
I know you can't read yet, and you probably wouldn't be all that interested if I tried reading this letter to you, since there won't be references to Spiderman or LazyTown or Moxie. But I'm going to write it anyway, because I'm your dad and this is the kind of sappy thing parents do when their kids have birthdays. You'll understand someday.
Mommy and I try every day to tell you how much we love you and how proud we are of you. You're growing up into such a cool person--even if you weren't my son, you'd still be one of my favorite kids. You love to make people laugh...you've always had a way of doing that. But you're caring and sensitive, too. You genuinely care about others, and are sensitive to their thoughts and feelings. I hope you continue to develop and nurture those two traits especially, because as you get older, other boys might not see them in the same positive light that your parents do. There will come a time in your life (maybe not too long from now) when being caring and sensitive hurts, and you'll be tempted to grow that same shell of cynicism and selfishness that so many other people have. It will protect you, yes, but it will come at a cost.
It will come at the cost of being able to feel anything--even joy, or love. And once it's grown, it's so hard to crack. And even harder to shed. Some people carry that shell around with them their entire lives, and its tremendous weight eventually distorts them almost beyond recognition. May you continue to remain caring and sensitive, even though that means being vulnerable and sometimes unprotected.
What an incredible big brother you are, too. Pumpkin is very lucky to have someone like you to watch out for her and who loves her the way you do. Already, Mommy and I can see that she's starting to look up to you, and that's only going to grow. The bond between siblings is a special one.
And your faith. My son, your faith in God is a sight to behold, and an inspiration to your dear old dad. I just love our conversations in the car to and from preschool--just yesterday, you told me that God must really like to joke, because he keeps fooling all the weather forecasters. You know that Jesus is your friend, and he's always the first thing you say you're thankful for, followed usually by your family and the world. As you get older, your questions will become more complicated, your thoughts will be more in-depth, your faith will be more mature. But your love for God...my prayer is that your love for God and your assurance of God's love for you may be as strong as it is today.
Five years ago this morning, Mommy and I were checking into the labor and delivery floor of the hospital. Little did we know that we still had 14 hours to wait until we got to meet you (your birthday was ALMOST tomorrow!). It seems like so long ago, but yet not so much. Time flies...and it doesn't. All at the same time. I know that sounds weird, but that's the way things get when you become an adult. Someday you'll be feeling the same way.
I love you SO much, Kiddo. As you like to say, I love you all the way to heaven and back. And I'm so proud of you, and who you are becoming. You are an articulate, compassionate, funny, curious, confident, and intelligent young man. May God bless you on this special day, and on all the rest of the days to come.
You'll be getting plenty of gifts, but I want to leave you with two special gifts right now.
The first is a song. My mom--your grandmother--gave me a gift of a song many years ago. It wasn't her song...it was originally written by Bob Dylan, in fact. But it may well could have been her song. I want to give you that song, too. It's called Forever Young, and is Mommy's and my prayer for you. Our favorite rendition is by Joan Baez:
And here's the lyrics:
May God bless and keep you always, May your wishes all come true, May you always do for others And let others do for you. May you build a ladder to the stars And climb on every rung, May you stay forever young, Forever young, forever young, May you stay forever young.
May you grow up to be righteous, May you grow up to be true, May you always know the truth And see the lights surrounding you. May you always be courageous, Stand upright and be strong, May you stay forever young, Forever young, forever young, May you stay forever young.
May your hands always be busy, May your feet always be swift, May you have a strong foundation When the winds of changes shift. May your heart always be joyful, May your song always be sung, May you stay forever young, Forever young, forever young, May you stay forever young.
My second gift is this: I know you like to look at pictures--here's a very small sampling of pictures of you from the last five years:
Thing #1: A couple of evenings ago, Kiddo was watching the TV show LazyTown (which Sweetie hates...not that it's a bad show, just very annoying to her). Sweetie told him, "I bet your perfect day would be to curl up on the couch with your blankets and Mr. Bear, watch LazyTown, and drink Moxie" (a soft drink that I've let him have a few sips of and he loves...and Sweetie hates. Almost as much as she hates LazyTown. She thinks it tastes like Robitussin. Poor, misguided Sweetie...).
Kiddo thought that sounded like fun...so he announced that he was going to tell US what OUR perfect days would be.
"Daddy, your perfect day would be to sit on the couch, watch The Office, and drink Moxie."
I laughed. "Pretty good, Kiddo."
Then he turned to Sweetie with a mischevious gleam. "And YOU...YOUR perfect day would be to go to work..."
*pause for effect*
*giggle*
"watch LAZYTOWN and YO GABBA GABBA..." (even more annoying than LazyTown, btw)
*pause*
*giggle*
"and drink LOTS OF MOXIE ALL DAY LONG!!!!!!"
He seriously could not have picked anything worse for Sweetie's "perfect day." And he knew it. The kid's got quite the teasing sense of humor.
Yep, he's a big brother all right.
Thing #2: Next Thursday, December 11th, will be Kiddo's fifth birthday. Be prepared for the obligatory sappy "I can't believe my little baby is growing up" post next week.
Today, I've gotta tell you what we'll be having for supper that night. We told him he could have whatever he wanted. So here's what he came up with for the menu:
Kiddo's in his second year at a church-sponsored preschool. Every year, they have a Christmas program where they sing songs and re-tell the Christmas story.
This is a picture of Kiddo at last year's program:
Yes, he's the one in brown standing off to the side next to one of the teachers, holding his lower lip. That's pretty much how he spent the entire program last year. Poor kid was just scared out of his wits in front of all those parents.
This year's program is Friday night the 7th. When I picked Kiddo up from preschool today, there was a note attached to the weekly newsletter with a piece of news that I never would have expected last year at this time.
The teachers picked Kiddo to play Joseph.
That's right, the biggest, most central male role (other than the doll that will be representing Jesus). My son. Joseph. The kid who cried and wouldn't even get on the stage last year. Joseph.
For me, this isn't about "my kid needs to have the biggest and best parts" or anything like that. Yes, I'm proud, but the biggest source of pride for me is just seeing the change in him. His self-confidence has just soared...he used to be timid and quiet around new people and new situations, he used to be afraid to try new things. And now...Sweetie and I were at church last Sunday, talking to someone after the service was done, when we realized Kiddo wasn't with us. After scanning the atrium, we noticed him over in the middle of a crowd of 7 or 8 high school kids, just being part of the conversation. Now remember, he's all of four years old.
My son is starting to spread his wings before my eyes, and I just couldn't be any prouder of the human being he's becoming.
A couple of weeks ago, I was driving home with Kiddo after his swimming lesson. The lesson had gone well, we were both in a great mood, and as we approached home, one of my favorite songs of all time came on the radio.
So I cranked it up, and Kiddo and I sang It's The End of the World As We Know It by R.E.M.
Well, we sang the chorus...all seventeen or so times it came around. And "Leonard Bernstein." I don't think even Michael Stipe knows the rest of the words.
Happiness is yelling "LEONARD BERNSTEIN!" in the car with your four year-old son at the top of your collective lungs on the way home from swimming lessons.
And I felt fine. =)
For any interested in the actual lyrics, here's the song (with subtitles):
(As a quick postscript, Kiddo was sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast when I found the YouTube clip for this post. He stopped watching "Curious George," a big smile came across his face, and he said, "I LOVE this song!!!" So of course we both had to sing along again.)
Saturday, my beloved Nebraska Cornhuskers took on the Virginia Tech Hokies in a highly anticipated game that was supposed to be the first real test for the Huskers (and their new coaching staff) this season.
Nebraska lost, 35-30. At times, they didn't look very good at all. As a fan, it was a disappointing night.
But as a dad, it was freakin' AWESOME.
My parents had tickets to the game, and as it turned out they were going to be out of town for the weekend. Sweetie had access to a ticket with her parents, so that meant I was able to take Kiddo with me. Section 16-B1, Row 85. Waaaaaaaaaaaaaay up in South Stadium.
It's amazing how being with a 4 year-old can help mellow out even the most rabid fan (me).
Our day started well before kickoff, though. We left the house about 4:15, getting to our usual parking spot by 4:30. On our way to the stadium, we stopped by the HuskerPedia tailgate. HuskerPedia is probably the best online source in existence for Husker related news and bulletin board chat. I've been posting there for a few years now--one of the perks of being a member is that you can stop by the tailgate tent before each game and enjoy some great food, great beer and great company. Saturday, the great company included the Husker Elvises (I had my picture taken with them, but haven't gotten a copy of it yet) and Joe Orduna, who played for the 1970 Husker National Championship team. Joe was kind enough to sign Kiddo's hat, and he and I spent about 5 minutes talking about family, football, and just life in general. Good guy.
After having our fill of food (and an adult beverage), we made our way to the Husker Nation Pavillion, which is located right next to the stadium and has live music, facepainting, balloons, games for kids, and televised football on a gigantic screen. Kiddo got his face duly painted, and had someone make a balloon sword for him.
After finding our seats in the stadium, Kiddo just soaked in the atmosphere. He clapped along with the band's pregame show, delighting the fans around us by singing along to There Is No Place Like Nebraska. He was enraptured by the spectacle of the Tunnel Walk, even telling me afterward, "Daddy, during the Tunnel Walk I almost had tears in my eyes because it was just SO COOL!" and by kickoff, he was yelling right along with the crowd.
Until the second play of the game. Which was when he informed me that he REALLY had to go to the bathroom RIGHT NOW.
Remember, we were in row 85...AND right in the middle of our row. I apologetically excused myself past the 8 people to my left, Kiddo and I walked down 20 rows worth of stairs until we got to the exit, then down a series of LONG ramps until we finally were at street level.
I found the men's room, took Kiddo in, waited patiently while trying to discern what the crowd noise above me meant (turns out VT had scored on a safety), had Kiddo wash his hands, then got ready to head back up to our seats.
It was then that Kiddo informed me that he was REALLY hungry.
No problem. We were down by the concession stands...we'd just stop real quick and grab something....
....hmmmm....funny. Where's my money?
I slapped my forehead as I realized Sweetie had it all.
For some perspective, I was in the south endzone. Sweetie was on the west side of the field, right on the north 10 yard line.
And apparently Kiddo was about to melt into a pile of nothingness without something to eat NOW.
SO...we went down another flight of stairs to get to field level, went around the corner to get into West Stadium, walked in front of the VT visitor section, and down the entire length of the field until we got to the north 10 yard line. Then up 17 rows...until finally Kiddo saw his mommy, grandma and grandpa.
Retrieving the money, we kept going up the stairs until we were at the concourse level in West Stadium, stopped by a stand for a couple of hot dogs and a big ol' lemonade, back down to field level, back to South Stadium, up the series of ramps, out to the stands, up 20 rows of stairs, over 8 people, and back to our seats.
Phew.
We watched the rest of the first half while enjoying our dogs and sharing our drink. After our first touchdown, Kiddo let go of the 3 red balloons we had been holding on to, and we marveled at the thousands of balloons that floated away (a truly COOL tradition, letting the balloons go after the first score).
At halftime, we had promised grandpa that we'd come down to visit, so we made the trek back to their West Stadium seats. by this time it was almost 9:00, and Kiddo, while enjoying the game, had started to get tired and ask when it was going to be done. In an attempt to hold him off, Sweetie suggested maybe we should get him some ice cream.
So we did...after standing in line for 20 minutes. Then came the trek back to North Stadium, Row 85. I was amazed the kid was still standing after all the walking he did.
Speaking of standing, we stood for the majority of the game, which was something I was ready for, but hadn't considered when bringing Kiddo with me. But he was a trooper, standing on the bench in front of us and watching the game through his binoculars.
The 20-something year old guy in front of us taught Kiddo how to cross his arms to "throw the bones" for the defense, and Kiddo led our section in the "Goooooooooooo Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig Reddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd...GO BIG RED!" cheer, which the fans around us got a BIG kick out of. Kiddo almost became our section's mascot--whenever the Huskers scored, everyone around us gave him high fives--and he just ate it all up.
Finally, when the game ended, I had the opportunity to teach him a little about sportsmanship. He asked why all the players were kneeling in the middle of the field, so I explained that they were saying a prayer together, and that even though they were on opposite teams, they could still say a prayer to God together. As the players finished praying, the Virginia Tech section started chanting--when Kiddo asked why, I said that they were happy that they won, just like we'd be happy if we won, and that it was okay to be happy for them.
"In fact, you know what?" I asked him. "Something that Husker fans do that I think is REALLY cool is this--whether we win or lose, after the game we clap for the other team when they leave the field, and tell them that they did a good job." So as we made our way to the stairs, we clapped for Virginia Tech as the players ran off.
Even with all the walking, even with the standing in line, even with the Huskers losing, even with the completely pointless unsportsmanlike conduct penalty against Bo Pelini in the 4th quarter, I had an incredible night.
Because I was with my son.
On our way from the parking lot
Kiddo and Sweetie at the HuskerPedia tailgate
Watching the game...check out Joe Orduna's autograph on his hat!
Cheering from Row 85 In Mommy's seats at halftime
Kiddo takes in the Tunnel Walk
Gooooooooooooooooo Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig Redddddddddddddddddddd...GO BIG RED!
A couple of days ago, Kiddo and I had the chance to go on a guided tour of Memorial Stadium, where the University of Nebraska Cornhusker football team plays. A former colleague of my father-in-law had set up a tour for his family and friends, and had invited my father-in-law, who had then invited us. (Thanks, Bruce!!!)
So of course we went. I wouldn't want to let my son down, right?
Had to do it for my child. Uh, yeah. I really didn't want to go, but I had to do it for him. I mean...the chance to be on the field, to go into the pressbox, to see the new weight room, the training table, the wall of fame with the portraits of the academic all-Americans...I wished I didn't have to be there, in all of these awesome places, in the home of my favorite college football team...but in the end, I decided I'd make the sacrifice.
For Kiddo.
Oh, the things we do for our children. =)
There were about 10-12 adults and about 10-12 kids of varying ages on the tour, which lasted about an hour. Kiddo just took it all in, even asking me a couple of questions about things he saw along the way.
It was a phenomenal afternoon, one that I'll never forget with my son, and perhaps one described better through pictures than words:
Grandpa points out the championship trophies
Kiddo: "I remember that these are important trophies, but I can't remember why."
Kiddo: "Hey! Those look like real footballs, except they're shiny!"
The pillars have the names of every player to ever earn a football letter at Nebraska. The portraits on the wall are of all the Academic All-Americans.
Kiddo and I in the south endzone
"Daddy! I'm gonna make a touchdown!"
The horseshoe that the players hit on their way out to the field
In the pressbox: "Look, Daddy...I can see the State Capitol!" (Just not in this picture...) =)
"Yes, I'm proud to have been named the Huskers' starting QB for the 2022 season. Next question?"
Yesterday, I was granted a glimpse of what friendship means.
Kiddo was playing with his best friend Z and Z's younger cousin A (RevScott's daughter).
They were playing with rakes. Yes, that's right, rakes. There's an empty patch of land in the yard at Z's house that in previous years has been home to a garden, but since the house is on the market this summer, they decided not to plant anything.
Kiddo and Z wanted to rake it. and generally make a lot of noise and a little bit of a mess.
The moms were inside talking, so we dads put our heads together and figured, sure--why not. Rake away, kids.
They were having a grand time of it, when A decided to toddle over and ask to play with one of the rakes:
Z's dad asked Z if he would give the rake he was using to A so she could play with it for a few minutes. Z dutifully listened to dad and handed it over without a complaint.
Then he watched Kiddo and A happily raking away, and decided he didn't like the situation after all. Running a few feet away, he flopped on the ground and held his chin in his hands, pouting. (Which actually showed a good deal of maturity on his behalf...not many 5 year-olds immediately agree to something they know they don't want to do...like giving up his "toy.")
Kiddo noticed this, dropped his rake, and came over to ask Z what was wrong:
Z didn't answer.
Kiddo looked at Z, looked back at his rake, looked at Z again, and decided to lay there with Z:
And there they lay for about two minutes...which was about the time it took A to decide she was bored with the rake.
Sometimes the greatest act of friendship (or love) consists of just making the decision to be there...to come alongside another person, lay down in the grass, and hold your chin in your hands next to them until things get better.
There's a lot to be learned from watching our kids.
I've had this tension in my life the last month or so...I've been in an extremely creative mood, but at the same time I've felt extremely tired.
And based on my posting, you can guess which has won out pretty much every time. Yup. That's right, I haven't exactly displayed a whole lot of creative writing in my posts.
And tonight, that's not gonna change one bit.
Pumpkin is 4 months old now...she's 14 lbs 4 oz. and 24 3/4 inches long, and still cute as a button (which thankfully comes from her mother). And Kiddo's still the proud big brother. It's fun to see the bond the two kids are developing--Kiddo can make Pumpkin smile like nobody else can, and he just loves her to pieces.
I'm just a lucky guy. No two ways about it.
Here's some updated pics:
Happy little girl!!!
Smiling at Big Brother
Kiddo as the Hungry Caterpillar
Sure wish I knew where my kids got their silly streak from... =)
This week is Vacation Bible School week at my church, and Kiddo is participating. Monday, as I was driving him home after it was finished, I asked him about the Bible story he had learned. Here was his response:
"Well, Jesus healed ten...um...well Daddy, I can't remember if it was ten tigers...or cheetahs...or leopards. But Jesus healed all of them and then only one came back to say thank you."
Oh, the world of a four year-old, where it would be perfectly normal for a large jungle cat to come back and say "thanks" to Jesus.
Friday, we were sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner, when I told Sweetie that my parents were going to be coming over later.
"They'll be dropping off a weather radio and my Fathers' Day gift," I told her (my dad had gotten us one of those NOAA weather radios where you can program which counties you get the alerts for).
When he heard the words "Fathers' Day gift," Kiddo's ears perked up. You could almost literally see the lightbulb above his head.
"Mommy? I want to tell you a secret," he said. And he walked over to her. Looking at me, he said, "Daddy, don't hear this."
I immediately agreed and tried to look like I was paying attention to my salmon filet and rice.
Now Kiddo knows how to whisper, but his whispering is almost at stage-whisper level, where he really might as well just be talking. So I heard his side of the conversation clear as day.
"Mommy, I want to get Daddy a Fathers' Day present."
Sweetie must have whispered back that the mp3 player they got me for my birthday was also my Fathers' Day gift, because Kiddo whispered/whined "NO...I wanna get him another present."
Sweetie: (unintelligible whispering)
Kiddo: "What's a good present? what does Daddy like?"
Sweetie: (unintelligible whispering)
Kiddo: "He likes Junior Mints."
So later that evening they went out, presumably to pick me up some Junior Mints. As I put Kiddo to bed that night, he was excited. "Daddy, I picked out a present for you...you're gonna loooooove it!"
He kept talking about it yesterday, too--in fact, he couldn't get to sleep last night because he was afraid he was going to forget that today was Fathers' Day.
So this morning, I started to come downstairs. Kiddo and Sweetie were already in the living room. Kiddo said, "Wait...Daddy, stop!" I waited for a moment while I listened to some scurrying around. Finally, I got permission to enter my living room. Kiddo said, "wanna open your presents?" I said, sure, so he told me we were going to play "Hot and Cold" for me to find them.
He led me into the kitchen, and did a great job of guiding me to the corner where three wrapped presents awaited me.
Kiddo was so excited as I brought them into the living room. I opened the first one--it was a Mounds candy bar. "They didn't have Junior Mints," he said. "Do you like this kind as much as Junior Mints?" I assured him that I indeed did (which is true--dark chocolate and coconut goodness...mmmm....).
I opened the second one. It was a can of Moxie. "I know you really like pop," Kiddo said.
Then came the third one. It was like a little snow globe, only instead of white snow they were sparklies. And inside was a bear holding an American flag. "Do you like it?" Kiddo asked, expectantly. "I picked it out all by myself."
Here’s a picture of it:
A little context…we’re trying to watch our money, so Sweetie and I had decided to forego gifts for each other on Mothers’ and Fathers’ Day, and just stick to cards. Sweetie later told me that when they were at the store, Kiddo had seen this figurine on the shelf and had begged and pleaded with her to let him get it for me. She looked at the small, overpriced and...well, kitchy figurine and tried to explain that I had already gotten my present, but he wouldn't hear of it. Kiddo insisted that I’d “really, really like it” until finally, she relented. He just wanted to have something for me that was just from him. It was an act of pure giving, and pure love.
Pure love and pure giving through no deserving of my own, other than the fact that someone else has claimed me as their own? (Yes, I try to be the best dad I can be, but I labor under no pretense that I deserve the unconditional love Kiddo has for me. It is truly a gift--one that I cherish and cling to, but not one that I deserve.)
Leave it to my son to remind me of the wonder that is grace.
It will be many years before he realizes exactly how much that kitchy little teddy bear American flag snow globe figurine means to me.
Thanks, Kiddo. You're the best son a dad could ask for.
(And thanks, Sweetie for playing along and helping him make this such a special day. I love you.) Some pictures from this last week of what makes me such a lucky dad:
Kiddo and Pumpkin on our back deck last week (while Daddy was mowing)
Kiddo's ready to run me down on his new "big boy" bike (with training wheels...)
Pumpkin "posing" by the posies (okay, they're not posies, but allow me some creative license here!)
Over time, Kiddo has developed what can only be described as a liturgy for bedtime. He begins with two structured prayers, then goes into his own personal petitions. The whole thing lasts 3 or 4 minutes. Here is a word-for-word transcript of Kiddo's bedtime prayers:
Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into pantation (he hasn't quite gotten the hang of "temptation") But deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.
Now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to keep. Forgive my sins and when I'm awake Show me the path of love to take. Amen.
God bless mommy and daddy and Pumpkin and Kiddo. And make Kiddo a good boy, and Pumpkin a good girl. Amen.
(the next part is a sung echo song)
May the Lord bless and keep you (may the Lord bless and keep you) May his face shine upon you (may his face shine upon you) May his blessings go with you (may his blessings go with you) And give you peace (and give you peace) (repeat)
Amen, Amen, Amen, Amen.
God bless Ellie and make her feel better. Amen. (Ellie is a girl that Grandpa's church prays for. She's 2 years old if I remember correctly, and has cancer.)
God bless Pumpkin and the whole world. And rocketships. Amen.
God bless C (his aunt) and make her feel better. And share her blessings. Amen.
And help Pumpkin get a good night's sleep all night. Amen.
**************************************************** If only we all could be so faithful to prayer, and have such a reverent sense of the power of familiar and repeated liturgy.
I kid you not, the kid doesn't deviate from his liturgical script. Night after night, day after day, he faithfully comes to God and prays for all of these things.
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