i want my covers flat!

Ducks in a row.Right now Keaton is screaming in her room.  She’s refusing to go to bed because she can’t get her “covers flat.”

Allow me to explain.

I fear that my daughter has inherited some of my OCD tendencies.  See, she has some very ritualistic habits for a three year old: Needing to say “goodnight” and “I love you,” along with blowing just so many kisses, in a choreographed bedtime progression that’s repeated for a fixed number of volleys before she’s satisfied and starts to doze off; wanting her “covers flat,” which means that the blanket can have no wrinkles at all – no matter if it’s on top of her or she’s laying on it; not being able to tolerate a single speck of dirt or debris in her shoes without nearly losing it; giving up on food in a fit of frustration if it’s not assembled correctly (a sandwich that’s falling apart, for instance).  On and on the list goes…

No, I don’t think this any kind of real OCD, or even anything serious… rather I think it’s part of the peculiarities of being a three year-old.  Wanting familiarity, desiring consistency, exerting some degree of control over one’s world.  But, whatever it is, when it chooses to manifest, it can be a three-year-old tornado.  I mean, right now, Sharaun is back there trying to explain to Keaton that the past forty-five minutes of screaming, crying, and all-out worked up tantrumming has been for nothing more than “wrinkled covers.”  Somehow, I don’t think Keaton appreciates just how ridiculous that is – but I gotta hand it to Sharaun for at least trying.

Camping this weekend, she lost it over a breakfast burrito that was losing its guts and falling apart in general.  Beginning as a whiny, “It keeps falling apart!,” and eventually escalating into a near all out breakdown where she refused to eat the thing unless it could be reassembled into a nice, neat, handheld breakfast.  I tried re-characterizing the pile of former-burrito on her plate as a regular style breakfast, but it was hopeless… she continued to try and rebuild the thing in futility, getting more and more frustrated and more and more vocal as she continued to fail.

Usually, when she obsesses over some minor thing like this and loses it, Sharaun and I try to use it as an example of how not everything always go your way.  I can remember saying, “Breakfast burritos are supposed to fall apart babe, that’s part of what makes them so good.”  The key seems to get her to remove her brain from the motivating hangup (in this case, taking away the burrito altogether) and then getting her to calm down and relax.  At that point we can typically re-introduce the hangup (be it a burrito, covers, dirty shoes, etc.) and usually get past it all.

But really, I don’t know… this whole parenting thing is a crapshoot.  I don’t read the books, I just do what seems right; even if it sometimes it feels like baking a delicate cake over a bonfire…  Wish us luck with our progeny, OK?

Oh, and lest you think I just bailed and gave tonight’s bedtime fit to my wife – we alternate on the nighttime Keaton duties, and tonight was her night.  And if that sounds like a copout, I’ll also note that we have an agreement that “owning” bedtime for the night means owning all of bedtime – whether it be a quick and easy one or some hellish protracted nightmare of one like tonight.  So, while I’m here for support and guidance, there’s some binding agreement (we may have actually drawn, signed, and notarized a contract… I can’t recall) that it’s up to her to get our sweet angel calmed down and off to sleep.

And, after everything, OCD tantrum and all, Keaton was asleep by the time I finished that last paragraph.  Good job Sharaun; good job.

Well… I need to go flatten my covers before I head to bed.  Goodnight y’all.

spinning in love

One day maybe.Hi.

Before going to bed last night I told Sharaun I had today figured for a harrying one at the sawmill.  With last week shot to time in Oregon and the subsequent game of catch-up, and Monday’s Yosemite weekend extension absence, I knew I’d face an avalanche neglected and undone work.  I was right; but it was one of those good-feeling busy days, where you end up leaving feeling more productive than overwrought.

After work I made a brief stopover at a local watering hole to have an (informal) “after hours” business meeting with some of the other shirts.  Sometimes those suds-and-appetizer ad-hoc meetings are the best for real conversation… and the unstated rule of confidentiality that disclaims all bar-talk certainly helps.  Anyway, thirty minutes past five and I was home… unfortunately with a bellyful of bad-for-me pub food and not much interested in the healthier pasta dish Sharaun had prepared for me (I’m scheduled on the “Bad Husbands” episode of Springer next month).

Once at home, I found Keaton especially animated and talkative, and had the wherewithal to grab the camera and roll film as she started to tell me about her plans for “falling in love.”  So then, since I recorded it I figured I’d spend ten minutes editing it and slapping a title on it so I could properly share it with the internet.  Here, then, is Keaton talking about “falling in love”:

[flv:https://blog.pharaohweb.com/video/spinning_in_love.flv 320 240]

Interesting notions on love and marriage, Keaton.  Glad you could be here to share with the sounds familiar audience today.

And now, changing subjects: The Ford continues to lumber along while she awaits a merciful death at the hands of the Obama administration’s “Cash for Clunkers” plan.  A goverment-connected friend of mine keeps me informed on the progress of the various legislative efforts around this initiative which are snaking their way through Congress.  In a good sign, the House today passed their version of the bill.  A good sign, to be sure, but I’m still reserving all-out excitement for final language and voting.

Oh before I go, I heard a joke I liked today.  Q: How many hipsters does it take to screw in a light bulb?  A: It’s a really obscure number; you’ve probably never heard of it.

And that, my friends, is the end of the blog for Tuesday.  Goodnight.

the blog lay fallow

Can we grow again?Happy Monday from Portland, internet.

Boy did the blog lay fallow last week or what? As usual, I stutter-started several entries only to give up within the hour.

Y’know, it was a pretty mediocre week anyway: Work was busy and we did the same kind of things we always do. Saturday morning though, we took the short flight north to Oregon and are now enjoying the warm Springtime of the Pacific Northwest.

Today we played heathan and skipped church at the little congregation down the street that we visit when we’re here, and instead got an early start on the day’s planned activity: heading down to the river to a big carnival. We took the train down, Keaton always likes that, and arrived at really nice typical midway-and-rides setup.

Now, me, I have a lot of love for carnivals. For some reason, I really enjoy them. And it’s not just the “stuff” I enjoy, it’s the atmosphere. The smells: straw scattered on the ground, exhaust from ride motors, a myriad of fried foods. The sounds: a cacophony of barkers calling rubes to their games, the pssshhht! pssshhht! of the pneumatics, and the din of voices and music. It’s all fun to me, and being there I remember how much I used to enjoy it all as a kid.

And now, watching Keaton enjoy it lets me experience it all again. Keaton wasn’t quite tall enough to do the Ferris wheel with me, and I was a tad disappointed since I’d really wanted to do that together. But we did ride rides together, do the mirror-maze together, and eat bad-for-you foods together. All under a cloudless blue sky and hot bright sun. But, don’t take my words for it, have a look for yourself:

[nggallery id=26]

Looks almost as fun as it was!

Goodnight.

worth every penny

Preciouser than my gadgets.Saturday night my iPhone and I went for a swim.

Well, not on purpose…

See, Keaton was sitting in a chair with her back to the pool, eating an apple.  We were at a poolside birthday party and the swimming part had ended with the sun going down, so I was out of my trunks and back into my shorts and t-shirt.  And, properly dressed, I also had my iPhone and wallet in my pocket.  The scene was set.

Playfully, I approached Keaton under the guise of the Tickle Monster, arms outstretched and growling slightly, fingers clenching and flexing just looking for some good ribmeat for ticklin’.  I remember her smiling as I approached, shrinking back into the chair, and sticking her feet out to push me away.  Only, Newton’s 3rd law says that, as much as little Keaton’s feet pushed me away from her, my thighs pushed back on them in equal proportion.

Yup: Her chair leaned back and toppled.  And, in a flash, I could see the chair sinking into the shallow end of the pool, and remember vividly seeing Keaton’s arms reaching wildly for the surface and her hair billowing in gravity-free plumes under the water.  Although it seemed like slow motion, my next awareness was being in the water.  As I grabbed her under the armpits and hoisted her above the surface, she had her mouth open and I could see bits of chewed apple inside.

She was crying, but not gulping or choking or gasping; I honestly don’t think she had enough time to even try to take a breath before I got to her, and that she likely held her breath that long on instinct alone.  She clung to me and dripped.

Sharaun was standing next to me in the water, I actually think she beat me into the pool (also fully clothed) but couldn’t get to Keaton for the chair.  Immediately after pulling her out of the water Sharaun wanted to take her from me and hold her.  Without thinking I passed her over, knowing already that she was fine (if a little shook up), and began climbing out of the pool.  Only then did I realize…

… the iPhone and wallet were still in my pockets.

I pulled out the phone and checked: dead.  In an attempt at playing humor for the watching folks, I chucked it into the grass in front of me – visually acknowledging its new uselessness.  In that moment, my thought was that my daughter was safe (if a bit wet) in the arms of my wife behind me – and a work-purchased iPhone was a small price to pay.  (Of course, in the next few days I’d try like crazy to resurrect the thing… fruitlessly, I might add.)

Monday I went down to the Apple store and got a new phone.  $199 later and I’m back up and running.

Worth every penny (not talking about the phone).

still fighting the writing

Prodigous.Happy new week, internet peoples.  I had a splendid weekend.  Sorry most of these paragraphs are pretty standalone… I’m still fighting the writing a bit, so I didn’t really craft anything to well-flowing.

Saturday was 80° and sunny and we all took a walk down to a big public event in the city.  A long walk in the bright sunshine was just what the doctor ordered to get me in the Springtime mood.  Later that day I finished hooking up the new backyard speakers.  You don’t know how long I’ve wanted a decent, permanent set of speakers out back… it may sound small but it’s been something I’ve had on the to-do list for years now.  Grilled some burgers that night and enjoyed them for the first time.

Sunday around 5pm Sharaun said she was headed out to “pick up something” for dinner.  Lately though, I’ve been encouraging her to instead review our vast stores and make something from stuff we already have.  I’ve always thought that we keep a bit too much food on-hand and likely even end up double-purchasing things before our previous reserves are expended.  So, instead, I went through the cupboard, fridge and freezer and suggested chicken breasts with saffron rice and steamed broccoli.  After poking around, I figure, should zombies flood the streets tonight, we could likely survive off our holdings for a month or more.  Seriously, we have that much.

Ages ago, I set the DVR to record Disney movies when they’re played.  This morning I noticed that Mulan was in the list of recordings so I decided to have an impromptu “movie night” with Sharaun and Keaton.  Keaton’s really come to love movie nights.  I always try and do something special.  We dim the lights, I’ll make popcorn or some other snack and bring it to the girls.  Tonight I brought a candle out to the coffee table and we roasted marshmallows on skewers for S’Mores.  Funny thing roasting marshmallows over a candle on the coffee table, but Keaton loved it.  (Mulan was pretty good too, I’d never seen it.)  Another successful movie night.

OK before I go, I’ll relay a quick one from today.

We drove separate to church this morning because Sharaun had a meeting afterward.  I took Keaton home, made us both lunch, played with her in the tent, and got her down for her nap.  After her lunch, Keaton hopped down and informed me  that she had to go potty.  Still finishing my leftovers I wished her well and told her to holler if she needed help.  A few minutes later, a clarion call from the water closet: “Daddy!!  I need help.  I went poo-poo with pee-pee.”  This is my cue to come in and do the, ahem, Daddy part of a Keaton doo-doo.

When I get into the bathroom, she’s still sitting on the pot, legs spread wide, and her head bent down almost to her knees.  She’s staring down into the toilet bowl through her legs and, her voice muted and ringing against the porcelain, she says, “Hey Dad, look at this five-dollar footlong I made!”  She looked up with a cheeky grin just in time to see me chuckle.

I didn’t even teach her that.  (If you must know, she learned it from our friend Natalie in Florida.  Bravo on the turn of phrase there, Nat.)  That is so my girl, though.

Goodnight folks.

keaton: does not like moustaches

Over the limit.Hmmph.

I spent so much of the day yesterday thinking it was Friday.  I couldn’t shake the notion.  Kept wondering what Sharaun and I were up to that evening.  Turns out she was up to going to some craft fair and I was up to going to the gym with Keaton.  Making matters worse, I’m expected to report to the sawmill tomorrow; on a Saturday, no less.  Flippin’ slavedrivers.

9am meeting ran long today, didn’t get out until a quarter to one.  OK so that was only 45min past-time, but that junk be cuttin’ into my lunch, dig?  Yeah so me and some buddies grabbed a late one at the Mongolian Grill.  You ever been to a Mongolian grill?  Not exactly diet food (good thing I’m not exactly on a diet), but you get to pile an empty bowl high with foodstuffs, pour various sauces on it, and they grill it up for you.  Was tasty.

Wednesday night our regular church-ish thing got canned so we joined our friends in a social Lost-watching event (television: campfire for modern Neanderthals).  At some point during the evening, Keaton, who was watching Peter Pan in the adjoining room, wandered into our area and took a commanding position in the center of the floor rug.  She puffed up, waved her arms to ensure she had our attention, and proceeded to proclaim:  “I don’t like moustaches.”  Then she laughed a little.  Me, I laughed a lot.  Such a random thing to promulgate; such a random little girl.  The room had a good chuckle though, and she eventually went back to Peter Pan, seemingly pleased with herself.

Nite, happy weekending.

poor easter bunny

bunnycropA nice weekend, but (yes I know I always say it) too short a one to be sure.

Saturday morning I began a couple backyard projects I’ve been meaning to get to for a while now.  The first being the installation of some landscape lighting to both make the yard both a bit “prettier” and a little brighter as the Summer barbecues stretch on past dusk, the second being a set of outdoor speakers to provide a nice soundtrack for those same Summer barbecues.  I got about halfway done with each before it started to rain and I was placed in charge of Keaton so Sharaun could run some errands.  Sunday after church I resumed the work until the rain (which only seems to come on the weekends lately) drove me inside yet again.  Once the rain subsided I was able to finish both jobs as far as the materials I had on-hand would take me.  A good start, tho.

Saturday night Keaton stayed the night at her friend Matthew’s place (her first co-ed sleepover) so Sharaun and I could attend a wedding.  We didn’t even get back that late, so the sleepover bit may have been overkill – but word is she had a fantastic time, and having the house to ourselves the whole night was pretty neat.  Turns out Keaton had a blast; Matthew’s dad setup the tent in the living room, lit a fire in the fireplace, and the kids fell asleep watching a movie each in their own sleeping bag.  And us, returning to an empty house, were just a little sad to be missing our little girl.

After church this morning we went to lunch with some friends.  Keaton was being very three-years-old, not talking, not acknowledging folks when talked to, and just generally not listening.  One of our friends, in an attempt to draw her out of herself, asked her, “Keaton, is the Easter Bunny going to come to your house soon?”  “No,” Keaton answered.  “He’s not?!,” we all chimed, anxious to hear why, “How come?”  “Because he’s dead.”

Oh, we’ll then.  I guess he won’t be coming by.

Goodnight.