In Uncategorized on November 7, 2013 at 1:15 pm
This morning I felt crabby and disengaged for a number of reasons. When that happens EVERYONE at Chez Jung lets me know about it, and rightfully so. The 3.02 year old had the most effective response. We were cuddling together in a chair and I must have been frowning, because he peered into my face, put his hands on my cheeks, and started gently squishing them in an up and down motion. Up and down, up and down. The following conversation ensued:
Me: “Hey, what are you doing?”
3.02 year old: “Daddy, I’m grouping your cheeks with my hands so you can change your face!”
Me: “Oh. Are you trying to make me smile?”
3.02 year old: *nodding* “Yeah!”
In Uncategorized on October 29, 2013 at 4:47 pm
Miranda and I weren’t sure that we wanted to have a second child, mostly because our daughter is such a high-spirited, high-energy burst of human lightning that we had doubts about our ability to cope with the increase in family size. When we did take the leap, we hoped fervently for another daughter – human lightning bolt or not, our daughter is an amazing kid, and Miranda and I both felt a great attachment to the idea of having a pair of sisters around the place – so when we discovered we were having a boy, our initial disappointment was shockingly high.
In retrospect it’s almost laughable to think about that, because from the moment he emerged into the world our son has been sweet, gentle, and affectionate beyond measure. Raising two children has turned out to be harder than raising one, sure enough, and the moments of grinding fatigue and baffled witlessness I contend with are undoubtedly more lengthy and abundant than they were during the halcyon days of single child parenting. But it’s grossly understating things to say we’re glad that he’s here. Our beautiful boy. He’s 3.00 years old today, you know.
In Uncategorized on October 22, 2013 at 10:44 am
The 2.99 year old is very interested in planes these days. Seaplanes, to be precise (we’ve been watching a lot of PORCO ROSSO). Accordingly, his new favorite activity is flying, by which I mean pretending a couple of plastic clothes hangers are planes and flying them in circles through the living room and kitchen, making jet-engine noises and calling everyone in the house “Pilot This” and “Pilot That.”
One of these recent flights took us on over 50 circuits through the living room and kitchen, and I can’t lie, it was getting pretty damned monotonous. The prospect of continuing on and on with it was really testing me. But then we landed our coat hangers/seaplanes on the ocean/living room floor, whereupon Pilot 2.99 Year Old gave me a big hug and said “I love you so much, Pilot Da-Da.”
And of course that made me think “Oh right, this is my son, and he’s beautiful and amazing, and he loves doing this, and I’m perfectly willing to walk in circles pretending these hangers are airplanes until civilization crumbles into moldering fragments around us.”
One of his birthday gifts is a shiny new Green Toys seaplane. We anticipate a positive reaction.