Let me shout you a blog entry

Apples make you cool. Cool as ice. Word to your mother.

Today, we headed out on the bikes with The Moore family (Chris, Emily, Ella) and did some biking, which seemed the natural activity since we were on our bikes. We made our way down to Nokomis and enjoyed the warm/cool/breezy/uber-comfortable day. The day was indeed obnoxiously comfortable. As you'll see below, we hit the swings. After 10 minutes, I tried to pull Abby out to go do something else; she let me know in no uncertain terms that this was a miserable idea. Back she went for another 1o minutes. Blondie likes her swings.

Later on, these very generous friends of ours shouted us dinner. "Shouted" you say? "Surely Dave's off his rocker". No, "shouted" is Australian for "paid for it". We ended up way ahead tonight: got a nice dinner and a new phrase. I like it, and I think it's going to catch on. I'm totally going to use it the next time I'm in a financial situation secure enough to shout somebody something.

Day one hundred and sixty seven.

ps. credit to Chris for all the photos below...

Post-modern parenting.

Loved it.

This kid...so cute. So pale. So Lily.

Noh!

Me: "Lily, is it time for you to put on pajamas?"
Lily: "Noh!" (a very cute, staccato and breathy "no")
Me: "Do you want to keep playing?"
Lily: "Noh!"
M: "Should we go to bed?"
L: "Noh!"
M: "Lily, do you want a hundred dollars?"
L: "Noh!"
M: "I think you're awesome."
L: "...."
M: "Lily, are you awesome?"
L: "Noh!"
M: "Lily, what's this?" (holding up a shoe)
L: "Shooww!"
M: "Ah. So, Lily, this is a shoe?"
L: "Noh!"
M: "Who's your favorite parent?"
L: "Noh!"
M: "What's the dog say?"
L: "Woof!"
M: "What's the cat say?"
L: "Meowwwr."
M: "Do you like dogs and cats?"
L: "Noh!"
M: "Lily, what's the opposite of 'no'?"
L: "Noh!"
M: "Actually, no; that's the same word. Please refrain from such asinine comments."
L: "...."
M: "...."
M: (I point at the cat)
L: "Meeoooww!"
M: "Good girl."

"Noh!"

"Ab...beeee"

A really awful book list.

OOohhh! (is she surfing here? I have no clue)

An altogether unremarkable day in the best of possible ways. Jen was out for a school thingy, so the girls and I had some dinner and played until we could play no more. Good times all around.

I got one of those requests recently on Facebook, the kind I normally ignore, not because I don't want to participate, but just because it doesn't fit into my timetable philosophy. This one, from Amanda Hoff, was a simple "list 15 favorite books that have stuck with you" sort of affair. It was on the cusp of being deleted from my mind, when I realized that this is exactly the type of thing I should be chronicling here. How great my shame might be when, many moons from now, the girls ask me, "Daddy, what great books should I read?" and I won't be able to come up with any decent answers on the spot, as I'll be sleeping on the kitchen table, half-drunk gin and tonic melting in my hand.

Who doesn't like lists? If Facebook is any telling list-barometer: nobody. This will be nice. And it can begin a series...I can do top 15 movies. Top 15 albums that should be listened to in their entirety. Top 15 Two and a Half Men episodes. Top 15 sources of irony. You get the gist.

I am quite convinced that revealing this particular list will reveal my uncouthness with trendy and interesting literature. In other words: predictable. Bah. I likes what I likes.

15 books that I liked a lot and stuff, so my kids should read them too:

- The Little Prince; Antoinne de Saint-Exupery
- Skinny Legs and All; Tom Robbins
- Hithchiker's Guide to the Galaxy; Douglas Adams
- Wonder Boys; Michael Chabon
- Catcher in the Rye; J.D.Salinger
- One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest; Ken Kesey
- Cosmicomics; Italo Calvino
- Slaughterhouse Five; Kurt Vonnegut (although I'm tempted to list "Galapagos"; I've never understood why that stands out as my favorite of his, it just is...)
- Jurrasic Park; Michael Crichton (I had to have a stupid inclusion here..it's an irresistably fun book to read.)
- A Farewell to Arms; Ernest Hemmingway (probably not his best, but remains one of my favorites)
- 1984; George Orwell
- The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay; Michael Chabon (couldn't decide of the two of his)
- Pride and Prejudice; Jane Austen
- Middlesex; Geoffrey Eugenides
- James and the Giant Peach; Roald Dahl

It's a strange list, I admit. I can't explain it...just the first 15 I thought of, really. Hmm.. I may have to edit this with some afterthought.

Day one hundred and sixty fife (yes, still the phonetic alphabet. Just wait til I get to niner)

Abby knows who she loves.

Riding on Rowdy the Rubber...uh...thing..

That dog hates glare.

We're like a normal family now. Relatively. (Relative..get it? Play on words. I do that from time to time, you know)

Abby's never been super snuggly, but she's starting to come around to it.

If you are a parent of toddler twins and you find yourself plum out of hours in the day, I think I have just the trick for you: eat dinner at 6 instead of 8:30. We've adopted this policy (most days). I'm learning to love it. Hmmmm... (that's the sound of me hugging our new schedule.)

Previously, we'd get home from work/school/daycare/wherever around 5:15, play a bit, feed the girls dinner, and bed the morons by 7:30. Then - and only then - would us parent-types begin to consider the grumbling needs of our grumbling grumblies. 8:30 or 9 at night was not an atypical time to finally sit down and tuck into a deliciously warmed over dish from our friends at Trader Joe's. (I do love their frozen food section, I am a begrudging convert of theirs) (I also have a soft spot for the phrase "tuck into a _____" in the context of beginning a meal; I don't know why.)

That's all changed, now (for the most part) that we're eating all together as one big Gelsian Family Unit. The impetus for this change was in fact trying to have more free time; time I could spend sitting in front of a thesaurus while writing the blog; time we could use for yard work (ah..no); time to read up on Michael Jackson; or time for just the sake of it. The side benefit is that we all eat together, and they will soon be at the age when that is an important family habit to get into.

There's a downside to this, however. It makes that hour between work and dinner fretfully hectic at times. Further, if we have a hankering for a complicated meal requiring something like a roux or a stock or a can of spaghetti-ohs, it is likely going to take too long and won't fit into our timeline.

I'm also not sure this would be possible without Jen at home with the girls, as she usually has her proverbial ducks (not literal ducks...that's silly) in a row. I suppose we'll see what the fall and her return to metriculation brings; I hope we'll stick with it. I like being "done" with "life" by 8.

Now to find a snack; I'm absolutely freaking starving.

Day one hundred and sixty fower. (that's right. I'm busting out the phonetic alphabet)

Abby from the block (whoa. A J-Lo reference, really? Oh yeah)

It's Cooter from Dukes of Hazard!

"I reckon it'll runya a hundred to fixen that scratch you put on the general lee, unnhum."

Quality time.

There is such a thing as a sugar high. Take that, conventional science.

I was quick and lucky, catching our nephew Oliver in the act of taking a leap.

Our computer is having issues. It graciously let me upload some photos before deciding that it'd be best if I weren't able to access the interweb. This turned out to be a happy accident, because I trotted out Jen's laptop to the porch to do the post, and I'm quite taken with being here. I should be out here every night. It's cool. The sound of the radio wafting from the living room is somehow more pleasant than if I were in there next to it, as if a degree of separation from it is amplifying its enjoyment quotient. The lighting is whimsically supplied by old-school, bulbous christmas lights (Jen exasperatingly acquiesced to my desire for this a long time ago). And the cat is here.

The cat being here is a mixed blessing. His need for lap time is equalled only by his irreverence for the laptop that is already lying in said lap. So he headbutts the screen once every 4 seconds to show me that, yes, he is scorned. Thanks Guinness. I get it.

Here's the day's news, broken down bullet-style, because who doesn't like their news in tasty little bites? Snack away on our daily hap'nings:

- Abby stood today for about 10 seconds unaided. Plus she can walk with only holding one hand. Any day now, I swear...
- I lost about 2 hours worth of work today because Flash took a dive on me and I'd forgotten to hit the save button.
- Lily washed her hands in my brother's sink, and instinctively grabbed for the towel to dry her hands off.
- Our shower is again showing signs of needing attention. I'm considering giving up bathing altogether
- Abby is totally Jen's kid right now. I can pick her up out of the crib and all is well for a minute or two; then she loses it and needs to go to Mommy.
- Lily could care less who's holding her.
- Our garden now has weeds twice as tall as me. I haven't done yardwork in weeks. I can't foresee how I am going to get better at this or have more time. Maybe a condo is worth investigating.
- Lily says "shoe" exactly like how Mr. Miyagi says "Show!" in "The Karate Kid".
- Abby wigged out tonight after getting ice cream. This is at least the third time that ice cream consumption has led to a kid that is super-hyper. I love that I read stuff online about sugar highs being total fiction, a complete myth of overactive parent imaginations. I think not. This kid gets ice cream, and it's hammer time.

My brother kindly let us descend upon his house tonight, where he stir fried a tasty meal (he said it wasn't good...he's wrong) for us.

Day one hundred and sixty three.

Maya snaps a shot of Abby while Jen watches warily.

Maya

Lily and JJ

Heat. Fatigue. Hypocrisy.

A self portrait.

It's 11. That's late for me now, and I can feel the fatigue down to my fingertips. I remember a time during my high school years when I would spend my summers schlepping sandwiches and beers until 1 am, then bike across town to meet with friends afterwards. That I was once able to do this shamelessly impresses my older self.

The kids were fine today. I was in the house after work for 10 seconds before I knew, without her saying a word, that Jen was annoyed, and guessed correctly that it was at Abby. She's still very whiny, even though her rash seems to be withering under the carpet-bombing mixture of concoctions that we slather on her twice daily. Despite the retreat of the bumps and redness and general terribleness, she's very itchy. Thus, she's irritable almost all the time. It's a taxing thing to deal with, and I tried my best to step up immediately, lest Jen lose her patience and hit herself with a frying pan.

Luckily that didn't happen.

The night passed pleasantly. After their bath, we spent a good 45 minutes in the little air-conditioned lifeboat that is their room. It's like a tiny oasis from the weighty, sticky summer air of the rest of the house. I'm more than happy to linger there for a while after bathtime. When we put them to bed, I secretly want to duck down where they can't see me, curl up on the floor, and sleep the unfettered sleep of a cool man.

I'm hot. And tired. And I also claimed above that Abby was whiny. Wonder where she gets it.

Day one hundred and sixty two.

Like a bowlful of jelly.

I love to make a grab for that tongue.

Cute little monster.

My shrieking return.

I'm back from the great north, fresh with a wicked sunburn and a few mosquito bites. I can't thank Jen enough for letting me off the parental hook for a couple days, and yet I'm chewing my nails at the thought of how she'll cash in on the favor. I think she's ahead in the "watching the girls" scoreboard.

Some parents keep score, and the rest lie about keeping score. We don't keep score, and yet I have, hidden in my semi-conscious mind, a little clicker-counter that is ever watchful of the times when I watch the kids for Jen. As has been pointed out to me on some occassions, this counter tends to not be so fastidious when it comes to the times that Jen watches the kids for me. How subtly does the mind work such trickery.

I missed the girls a lot, all three of them. There was no fairer sound for me than when I got out of the car this afternoon, started unloading the trunk, and heard Lily screech in delight from the stoop, where Jen had opened the door to greet me. Coming home now means something different to me; different than when we were pre-kids, and different than when they were just two swaddled little raisins. I am eager every day to hear that Lily "Aaaaaiiiiiiiiiiieeeieighhhhschk!!!" rend the afternoon air, followed in due course by Abby's "rreeeeeeeeaaaacccckkgh" that sounds so astoundingly dolphin-esque, you might swear you were lolling about in the Pacific.

Here is Today's Moment of Hilarity: I had fetched myself a pint of water after I got home, and it took the girls no time to pry it from me so they could drink from it (I made the mistake of thinking we could all share. So, they both took a sip, and I raised it to my face, where I could see about 12 million peanut-butter cracker particulates floating about in my water. Never share water with a toddler; it's disgusting.) So, they both took turns slaking their thirst with my hard-gotten water. They love drinking big-people glasses, and it's good practice, so I let them do it with my guidance.

Lily decided today to try and go solo, and curiousity got the better of me, so I let her take the entire pint glass (half full) and see what she would do. She brought it up. It tilted. Her face was nowhere near it. She poured it all over herself, reminiscent of Jennifer Beals in "Flashdance". We (wisely) surpressed our initial reaction - laughter - and just kept looking at her blankly to see what she would do. She stared back and forth at both of us with a goofy non-smile, waiting to see how we would react. It was, for a good 8 seconds, a sort of "reaction stand off", which she finally broke by letting out an enormous, "Aaaahhhhh!"

This will go down as one of my favorite moments of hers to date.

Day one hundred and sixty one.

Thanks Marj for coming down to help, unasked for and amazingly appreciated. Thanks to Jen for blog duty, and for taking really great photos of the girls swinging, which I will continue putting up right now.

Lily, the sunscreen goddess.

Crotch? Check.

I'm glad to hear Lily didn't try to push her with the stick.

Two Swinging Doofuses.