Sunday, March 7, 2010

David the writer

Mike's mother, Sue, recently had a birthday.

The kids and I spent one morning trying to think of something we could make her as a gift.

Kate wanted to paint her a picture. "My think Grandma will love it."

David said, "Hey, I know. Grandma likes books. She reads me lots of books. I'll make her a book."

I wrote the words for him, but they were all his. Mike helped him with the illustrations. He was so excited about it. He hid it in a cabinet until Sue came for dinner.

The title: "My first book."

It went something like this:

Once upon a time there were a lot of Triceratops.
Then came a big T-Rex.
Then came a Spinosaurus.
Then came an Ankylosaurus.
Then came a Woolly Mammoth.
Then came a mouse.
They were a family.

It was a fantastic book.

Carry you around

You are distracting me from all other activity and I know that your presence will dominate my memory (Ani Difraco - Carry you around)

I think sometimes as a parent, I tend to dwell on the negative. Or at least seem to dwell on the negative.

I would be a liar to say that every day is easy.

Most days are long and tiring, usually with some sort of a challenge.

David doesn't want to school. Kate doesn't want to get dressed. No one wants to eat. No one wants to go to bed.

And I think that comes out sometimes in my writing and conversations, the frustration of a long day, mostly because of the need to release some of that frustration, get ideas from other parents.

That emotion though is not what I carry around.

David and Kate have their bedrooms on the first floor of our home, ours is on the second. At night, I put a gate up in the hallway and a monitor on. The other morning, over the monitor I heard Kate go in to Davids room and wake him up:

Kate: Wake up David

David: Hi Kate

Kate: My love you David

David: You too Kate

Kate: We are best friends

David: Yes. Mommy too. Lets go wake her up.

(Two children appear from bedroom on left, a 4 year old boy and 2 year old girl, dressed in pajamas. First the older child tries shaking the gate, the younger repeats the action. Working together they realize they can push down the gate and escape.)

It's those sort of moments that dominate my memory. That I carry around.