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Friday, August 26, 2005

Standing in the Middle of a Memory

She was awake before dawn broke, staring at the ceiling. She called various times throughout the night, hoping to get out of bed and start the day. Finally her mother opened the door. It was morning.

The calm turned to chaos. Quickly fixing hair, eating breakfast, bagging the day’s supplies. The clothes had been meticulously chosen the pervious night, put on now with rushed ceremony. She was oblivious to her mother’s heightened emotions, too excited to observe.

They hurried into the car. Her brother focused on his cereal bar, mother trying not to think about the significance of the day. Her tiny mind, already too quick for her age, spinning with anticipation. Nervousness. Excitement.

Two minutes later they were there. Her mother set her on the curb, concentrating on keeping the tears welled up in her eyes, and off her cheeks. She didn’t even notice. “Bye, Mom,” was about all she said with her goodbye hug.

Her hair bounced as she skipped across the threshold. Pink backpack and coordinating shoes. The teachers were more focused on the kid who were upset, and she blended right into her group of classmates. A fish in water.

Bawling on the way home, her mom thought of the strangeness of it all. Childhood, adulthood, parenthood. Moments you dream about, but never think will come. Standing in the middle of a memory.

She poured herself another cup of coffee, pulled her son close and turned on cartoons

Thursday, August 25, 2005

It's raining again today, the fifteenth day in a row. If it gets to 40 days, and I don't hear from God, I'm going to get nervous. It's like we're living in Seattle without the good seafood and all the Asians.

UPDATE: With the thunderstorms overnight, we've now had 55 in of rain in the month of August. Incidentally, every farming county in the western half of Missouri has been declared a natural disaster zone due to the current drought.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

Our Kind of People

Last night we were at the house of some burgeoning friends when the following conversation took place between a mother and her four year old daughter:

Mom: When is it okay to kiss on the lips?

Daughter: After you're married.

Mom: When is it okay to get married?

Daughter: After college.

Mom: Who is it okay to marry?

Daughter: A Republican.

Tuesday, August 23, 2005








Friday, August 19, 2005

All right. All right. Enough already. I know that I haven’t been posting as much as usual and I’m sorry. I’ll make an effort to get back into the swing of things, including more pictures.

The kids are still cute. Parker has been going through a pretty good case of the terrible twos, but he seems to have turned a corner. The past couple of days he hasn’t had a bad attitude ALL the time. He’s still mischievous, pushes the boundaries, pees his pants on purpose, so pretty much just like his dad. He’s totally fearless, likes to fight and wrestle. Last week he beat up the 10 year old on the end of the block and sent him home crying. I’m not joking, the kid went home in tears because PARKER KICKED HIM IN THE HEAD.

Rylie is still freakishly intelligent. I know I don’t have a lot of experience raising 3 year old girls, but should the really be starting sentences with “The problem with Post Modernism is…” She’s supposed to start pre-school soon and I’m trying to prepare for the onslaught of amazement by her teachers. Has anyone written a book on how to raise a genius, because I need to read it.

Currie has been sick for a couple of days, so the kids have had to deal with me during the day. Thankfully for everyone, she’s getting back on her feet. Do you have any idea how much energy it takes to ignore two screaming children while watching reruns of poker on ESPN? Phew.

As for me: working too much is hard. I got in a wreck on the way to work the other day, so I’m looking forward to replacing that girls fender. Luckily for me the weekend is almost here, and all I have to do is catch up on the lawn, clean the basement, scrape and repaint the trim in Parkers new room, change the oil in both the cars, and clip my toe nails.

Pics coming soon.

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

The Wheels in My Head Keep on Turnin

A couple of weeks ago we were all riding in the car, when Rylie brought us face to face with a dreaded parental moment: Death.

Rylie: Is your grandpa still dead?

Currie, looking at me like what the hell am I going to say: Yes, once your dead your always dead?

Rylie: How come?

Currie glared at me like answer her, jackass, that's what Dad's are for.

Me: Well, once you go to heaven and see Jesus, it's so great that you never want to come back.

The wheels in Rylie's head were turning, making an audible click, click, click. I looked at Currie as if to say God, I hope she buys that.

Rylie: Can we stop for ice cream?

Parker: YEAH, ICECREAM!

Monday, August 01, 2005

Hello, Jackson's

I called the house the other day to talk to Currie. I heard the phone pickup, and the kid's TV show in the background, but that's it.

"Hello?"

"Hi, daddy" Rylie chirped back.

"Where's your mother"

"Next door feeding Cramer" (the neighbor's mutt)

"Well, what are you doing..." a typical Father/10-year-old-daughter conversation ensued, ending with "Okay, have your mom call me when she gets back"

"Okay daddy," And with that I hung up the phone.

Five minutes later I hadn't received a call back, so I called he house again. This time, same thing: phone picks up, kids in the background, that's it.

"Hello?" I say again.

"Hi, daddy" I'm in the twilight zone.

"Where's your mother?"

"Downstairs," she says, unenthusiastically.

"Please take her the phone."

Currie comes on the line, "Yeah?"

"Rylie just answered the phone. Twice"

"Yeah," she says, unimpressed, "she does that all the time."

At this point I'm starting to think that either I've gone crazy, or that moron Ashton Kutcher ran out of celebrities and has moved on to me.

"WHATDOYOUMEANSHEDOESITALLTHETIME, SHE'STHREE, SHECANTANSWERTHEPHONE"

"I came home and the phone was off the hook, I figured she was just playing with it"

Because she was bored with the matches and scissors? "Well could you work with her on the 'hello' and the hanging up?"

"Yeah, and we should probably get her a message pad."

Great idea. Really.Great.Idea.