Thursday, June 26, 2008

The Wisdom of Five

Gamble’s been in summer pre-school for a few weeks now, and we’ve noticed an odd effect. Momma and Pabu take Gamble to school every morning, and all goes well. Swimmingly, in fact. He’s so excited to be in school that he rushes in, and he runs down the halls to his classroom.

No, it’s not getting to school that’s the issue. He knows right where to put his backpack, and today, on his birthday, he was allowed to feed their guinea pig, Fluffy.

No, it’s all about coming home. When they pick him back up, generally Random gets really mad, and typically cries for the entire ten minutes it takes to get home.

Funny thing is, she loves her brother. They play together all the time, and often when they’ve been apart for a while, she squeals with delight when he resurfaces. She’s usually not upset to see him. But every day, this happens.

I got a call from Nicole today saying that Gamble’s taking it in stride. He got in the car today, and of course, she started crying.

Gamble looked up at Nicole and said, “I think she’s just upset because she doesn’t have a weiner.”

Oh-h-h... Is that what girls are always so upset about?


Our little boy is five today. Five. Five. Five.

Amazing the way the time flies.

For those of you who don’t know, five is a big age for him. He gets to do three new things at this age: He gets to chew gum, watch Star Wars movies (yeah!), and ride the bus to school (when applicable). He’s so excited about chewing gum he could about pee his pants. He wanted to take it to school with him today.

Well, after I got home from work, we got some Taco Bell for him (one of his favorites; Pabu's too), and then afterwards, he got to chew gum and watch the first half hour or 45 minutes of A New Hope.

I figure it came out in the summer 1977, so I was just a little younger than he was when I saw it for the first time. Very exciting to see a little reflection of me in his eyes.

No, wait. That was C3P0...

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, our awesome boy!

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

How I Roll

Gamble wanted to help me take the stuff out to the car tonight. I rarely get bags at the store if I can avoid it, and since we only bought three things (a strap for some loose ductwork, and two packages of condensation line insulation for the air conditioner), I didn't get any bags, and Gamble was more than glad to help out.

He took both packages of insulation. I grabbed his other hand (always and still when in the street, parking lot, or anywhere a car might come out and smoosh a body), and commented on how great it was that he could carry such large packages.

He said, "See? I carry this one in my armpit, and this one's in my hand. That's how I do it."

"That's how you roll?" Then I got the idea that it would be cute to hear him say it. "Hey, Gamble. Say, 'That's how I roll!'"

But he had his own ideas.

"Daddie? That's how I rock-and-roll!"

He cracks me up.


They say it's fleeting.

Time, I mean.

I've seen all the movies in which the dad works late at the office for years and then something happens that wakes him up, and he realizes that he should have been spending more time with his family all along.

I know all that. I'm actually really sensitive, or sensitized, to that fact. Nicole reminds me all the time that I'm Gamble's hero, and that it won't be that way forever. That he just wants to play video games with me. That he just wants to spend time with me. That he's going to school soon, and at that point, all bets are off, the cords are cut, and the horse (as they say) is out of the barn.

Heck, he tells me himself. After not being able to play with him for a couple nights, I took him to Menards tonight, and even though he played his DS the whole time, he was happy to be there with me.

What those movies don't tell you, however, is that even if you know the lessons of the movies, even if you cherish the time, even if you push to spend every minute with your family, even if you understand that the time is fleeting, it doesn't matter.

Because there's still houses to be sold, inspections to be had, cars to have oil changes, repairs to be made, dishes to be done, laundry to be folded, and yardwork to be done.

We're so lucky that Nicole can stay home with the kids during this time. I can't imagine trying to sell and buy a house if we were both working. For now, she gets the time with the kids, and I'll keep fighting for every minute I can get.

I just can't wait until the time we're in that new house. We can't get there fast enough. And when we do, we're decking out his room, and we're going to love our summertime, because that time, too, will be fleeting.

Friday, June 6, 2008

The Royal Treatment

I miss my family, and they're coming home today! I can't wait to see every one of them: Nicole, because I miss that conversation and together time after the kids go to bed; Random, because I bet that in just two weeks, she will have changed enough that I'll get to see the magic transformations that the passage of time seems to perform on kids so young - even in pictures she looks older; and Gamble, my little buddy, Gilligan to my Skipper, man Friday to my Crusoe, Watson to my Holmes - I can't want just to hang with him.

One reason that he's got that special place is the royal treatment. Before he left, he quite literally treated me like a king, saying things like, "Daddie, we can do whatever you want because you're the king!" and "Mommie, we have to do what Daddie says, because he's the king."

But the real capper is when he sweeps one arm across his body and says, "Yes, your majesty," when I ask him to do something, like cleaning his room. Silly as it is, I find this highly amusing.

Come home, family! Come home! I miss you all - queen, princess, and little prince, all!