The Rules of the Game

Daddy?

I am on all fours
In the grass
Pulling out weeds.
No one likes this.

You are not Daddy anymore you are Papa, okay?

It seems as though
Over the winter
Someone came and sprinkled
Dandelion seeds all over my lawn.

And Sissy isn't sissy anymore, she is Memaw, okay?

They are some kind of
New mutant Dandelion
That is bigger and has a gnarled head
With twice the leaves.

And a bad guy and a bad lady came and stole my mommy and daddy, okay?

These roots
Are bigger around than carrots
And are at least six inches deep.

And tied them up and put them in a house, okay?

I should just spray this whole thing.
Keep all the kids off the lawn for a week,
So they don't get poisoned.

And my name is Lola and I am a princess, okay?  Daddy?

Yes, sweetie?

No, my name is not sweetie.  My name is Lola and I am a princess.

Okay.

The World is a Gift (or Does Dave Matthews like Blue Cheese?)

The world is a present
Just waiting to be opened.

It is filled with many new
Sights, sounds and smells
That even at three years old
Are still new and thrilling.

I was reminded of this today,
When my girls spent five minutes
Passing a blue cheese dressing bottle
Back and forth,
Like they were on the lawn at a Dave Matthews concert,
Sniffing it and exclaiming
YUM!

YUM!

Little Ninja

     He is trying to be quiet, bless his heart.  "Bless his heart," being the thing that people say when a child is trying hard to do something and failing miserably.  I am in the shower with the door closed and the vent fan, whose motor was clearly taken from a decommissioned WWII bomber, on.  Yet I hear him coming up the steps from the time his first little foot hits the bottom riser.  His footfalls are slower than normal, so I know he is making an effort to be quiet.  He pushes the door open softly, producing one long drawn-out loud creak instead of a brief one.  The curtain opens with a flourish.  "Boo!"  He attempts to whisper, but it is hard to suppress excitement when you are sneaking up on someone.
     "EEeek!"  I playfully feign surprise, but the crooked smirky smile on his face shows me that he knows I'm not fooled.  "Well, I could hear you coming from a mile away.  Hang on, I'm done here."  When you have four kids any ideas of privacy and the sanctity of bathroom time have flown well out the window and over the neighbors hedge.  The little ninja is now concentrating on adhering, then snapping off, the suction cups from the new shower curtain on to the shower wall tile.  It is an enviable pursuit, when I was his age I loved a non slip bath mat that my grandparents owned.  The sound of fifty or so little octopus feet snapping and slurping off of the shower bottom as I muscled it upward was so satisfying.
     His attention has wandered away from the shower curtain, now that I have gotten out of the shower and began my post-shower process of applying lotions and hair products.  We men become quite prissy in our old age, savoring the last bits of our youthful appearance   He reopens the bathroom door again slowly, again loudly.  On egress he again pauses on every little creak.  This time the intended stealth is directed at not waking his napping twin sisters.  As he tip toes out into the hallway close to the doors of the rooms where they slumber, I see that tip toeing may be something we need to review in our fine motor skills sessions.  His method of sneaking might be more accurately described as tip outsides-of-the-feeting.
     I then realize that I was not the primary target.  He has spotted his prey.  Boomer, his formally white, now more accurately described as off white, stuffed cat and constant companion, is relaxing in the hallway outside the door to his bedroom, having been placed thus not 10 minutes earlier by me in an attempt to "keep this place picked up."
     I move to my bedroom to throw on some clothes.  Privacy may have eroded with offspring, but we all still have a modicum of modesty.  He shuts off the bathroom fan.  His first ever attempt at conserving energy at odds with his attempt to not wake his sisters.  The din had been an effective blanket of sound to this point.  Then I hear the pounce.
     "Boomie, I got you!"  Full voice this time, no attempt made to conceal it.
     I close my eyes and brace for the wailing cry of being awoken too early from a nap.

Sick day

She normally floats across the room
In the mornings.
Spinning jumping dancing smiling.

Today
She trudges
Shuffling her feet.
Gravity has been increased.
The air has been replaced with jello.
She fights her way to me.
Snuffling whimpering.

The usual jump into my arms
Has been replaced with
A sigh that lasts for hours.
She folds in half,
Laying her head in my lap.

Daddy I'm sick.

I know, honey.
I know.

Memories

Perhaps just as there is no bad publicity,
There is no bad memory of your children.

Every time you had to wash the poop off your hands,
Or the spit up from your shirt,
Or the pee off the floor.

Every time they yelled,
Or you yelled,
Or everybody yelled until they cried.

Every time you had to go to the doctor,
Or the emergency room,
Or the hospital.

You were there together-
Sometimes holding hands,
Sometimes not.

That is the life lived.
The good and the bad are both important patches
On everybody's quilt

All warm and beautiful at the end of the day.

The Incident

Mom I need to tell you something

The hazel eyes shift far to the left and up

Like the prime suspect on a bad TV cop show

It may not be a lie that comes out next

But if it is the truth it has been carefully

Massaged

You see
I had to tell my sister a secret
It wasn't really a secret
It was like a joke
Not really a joke just something
I wanted to tell her
You know
Quietly

Umm Hmm

And

Well you see

I was chewing 

This

Gum.

AndIdidntmeantogetitinherhairbutitisinherhairImeanreallyinherhairanditwontcomeoutandIImeanWEneedyourhelpplease

A deep breath in.

An inside count to three

Mom steels herself 

And prepares for the extraction

Happy Birthday

Happy birthday to my little man!

Your laughing voice cheers me
Your embracing arms soothe me
Your little round belly invites me
To fill it up with vanilla ice cream.

Your busy hands challenge me.
Your giving heart heals me.
Your inventive head makes me yearn for
another story about another drawing.

Your joyful smile warms me.
Your twinkling eyes lift me.
Your dancing feet sweep me
Up in their rhythm.

Spring Cleaning

The twins are not identical.

One diligently and cheerfully helps
Her daddy pick up dry leaves from
Around the budding bushes and trees
And carefully place them
Into the yard waste bin.

The other climbs the leafless tree,
sings "Rudolf the Red-nosed Reindeer"
And intermittently but enthusiastically
Cheers her sister on, a safe distance from
The cleaning efforts.

Both of them are essential to the task.

Water Park Haiku

School aged boys, lazy
River equals chocolate milk
Powered bumper boats

Space Rain

Be careful when running errands
With a five year old.
You just might get asked a question like,

Are satellites waterproof?

Were we talking about satellites?
Were we talking about space?
Were we taking about waterproofing?
Or rain damage?
Or flooding?
Was there even a cloud in the sky?

No.

Fine then, genius, just answer the question.
Says the voice in the back of your head.

Well, pal, you know satellites have a lot of expensive
Computers and batteries on board so, of course-

Ahem-the voice interrupts

There is no rain in space.
There is no snow in space.
There is no air to rust things.
No water to flood things.
There is nothing in space.
Why would they need to be waterproof?

So, of course- ummmm
I don't really know if satellites are waterproof, bud.

That's okay.
Do you know what I like?
Steam shovels.

Milton Bradley was a Sadist

Chutes and Ladders
Are you sure?
Can't we just play Hi Ho Cherry-O?
Oh, okay. Just one game.
Go!

Four!
One, two-
No, put the piece down it's not your turn-
Three, four.

Five!
One-
No, keep going
That's not your slide-
Two, three, four, five.

Three!
Oh thank god!
You saved a cat!
Climb that ladder, girl!

Six!!
One, two-
No, now you're going the other way-
Three, four, five, six....
Oh, thin ice?!
Really?!

Two!
Pick your girl up.
No, she's not supposed to be dancing.
It's just two spaces.
Come on.
One-
You just want me to move it for you?
Okay.

Four!
What?
You want me to move your girl, too?
Sigh.

Ninety-eight.
Ninety-nine.
One hundred!!

What's that?
End the game by exact count only?
You're @&$$@@ kidding me!

Daddy Princess

I don't remember what life was like
Before I became a princess
But I do remember the day it happened

Princess-hood wasn't handed down
to me through the generations
I don't come from blue blood, ceremony and tradition

I did not marry in to royalty
My wedding was not a carefully orchestrated coup
With a kingdom in a distant land

It was magic
Magic possessed by a three year old
Bequeathing rule to me with an urgent incantation

Help me
Daddy Princess
Help me get the broom from the hook

I accepted the honor gratefully
And I will endeavor to rule all with
Kindness and grace and gratitude
The way only a Daddy Princess can

Oh wait
Now I am a tiger

Push and Jump

The picnic table is a boat
Or a diving board
Or a mountain top

One sister climbs up
Shuffles her toes to the edge
The other sister is behind her
A small stick in hand
She pushes as the other jumps
Down onto the grass
Both feet stick the landing
Then gravity takes over
she tumbles back onto her bottom
Smiling
She quickly stands up
Runs back around to the side of the table
And takes the stick from her sister
It is her turn to jump
Or be pushed

This repeats
And repeats
And repeats

When they come in
I ask the name of the game
They were playing
Pirates?
Swimming?
Super cliff diver?
Super heroes?

No

Push and jump

Rock Star

When I was young
I wanted to be a rock star
I would come off the stage
People would be shouting my name
Jumping up and down
Grabbing at my clothes
Waiting in line for hugs

Time passed and
That dream died out

Now I am a parent
When I come home from work
People are shouting my name
Jumping up and down
Grabbing at my clothes
Waiting in line for hugs
I am a rock star

Impressions

Sometimes
After a meal
He leaves an outline

A silhouette
Painted in cracker crumbs
And orange rinds

Unintentional in its creation
Beautiful in its way

I hate to clean it up
But I must

There will be no nothing new
To admire tomorrow
If I don't

The Rainforest

The shower is my refuge
It is the sanctuary of my people

The spray from the nozzle and
The drone from the bath fan
Create a sonic canopy
Protecting my rain forest from the harsh conditions of the outside world
The competing foreign interests aged 3-9 that conspire to clear cut this region
And flatten these lands.

The two curtains sealed tight against the tile walls
Sealing in the heat and humidity to let the endangered species thrive
Grow - independent thought
Blossom - ideas of the future
Thrive - creative plans

Then

The CLANG of the metal rings against the rod
Are a chainsaw

Hey daddy
Are you takin' a shower

Heavy

I know there will be a day
When you are too big
Or I am to old to carry you both
Down the stairs when you
Wake up so sad you just
Need to be held for awhile
I hope that day
Is not some day soon

Dante's Children

I am surprised
That no one has written
The Divine Comedy - Parents Edition

I am certain that

Carrying your toddler on your shoulder
To your car
In the parking lot of school
While she is screaming at the top of her lungs
Directly into your ear
Because someone threw away her last pretzel
Surrounded by most of the grown ups you know and like
The screaming intensifying with each buckle of the five point restraint
While being rained on

Would probably be near the top
Or is it bottom
It's been awhile since high school

Mutual Admiration Society

You're awesome
Said the older brother to the younger brother
You're awesome
Said the younger brother to the older brother

Can you please hand me that
Sure thing pal
Thanks little buddy

Am I dreaming
Have my children been secretly been replaced by alien shape shifters from planet Cares-a-lot
Are they on drugs
Am I

What could possibly
have created this complete sea change in the
attitudes and tenor of this house

Oh

New LEGO

Mornings

My bed is made of Velcro
Each morning the kids try to free me
With their little hands and
Their cries of
Daddy wake up
I wanna eat breakfast
But it seems the only thing
That can free me from
Those little hooks and loops
Is my wife's inquiry
Hon are you up

RRRRRRIIIIPPPPP

As I try to feign that
I've been up for ages

April showers

I used to like the spring rain
The gentle patter
Melting the snow
And watering the bulbs
Encouraging the daffodils and tulips
Come out it's time
Lets party

Today the rain is a warden
Barring the doors and windows
Keeping us from
Ball throwing
Bike riding
Skipping and jumping

Later it will pass
And there will be puddles to hop in
And mud to squlech in

But for now we make marks on the walls
Counting down the hours
Until it passes

Confessions

Sometimes
When I am
Face down on the floor
Arms and legs
Splayed out
A giant X
Being drawn and quartered
As I look under the couch for
A lost ball
A puzzle piece
A plastic zebra
I close my eyes
And take a tiny

nap

Piano Practice

Listening to my son
Play the piano
Is like a pointalist painting

My mind fills in the blanks
Between the missed notes
And imprecise rhythms

And creates a symphony

Pack Mule

On the way to the park
I held
One baseball
One ball glove
One bat

On the way back from the park
I held
Two baseballs
Two bats
Three ball gloves
One scooter
and
One hand

Swearing

Dear other parents,

I get it
Swearing is freaking awesome
When you hit your thumb with a hammer
Or drop a full container of cottage cheese on the floor
Or you are calking

But when you are chilling at the children's museum
Loudly chatting it up with your sleazy friend
Dropping 'em down at 5 MFPM
(mother fathers per minute)
So that every one large or small or very small
Can hear

It is just not cool.

Unless someone poops in the ball pit
Then it's justified

Fully justified

Danger

Sometimes
Being a parent
Is holding on to
The little ball
Of fire in your belly
That grows when you
Are watching your
Boys carry a green machine
Up an icy hill

You hold that fire

Even though if you
Yell outside
Get down from there
It's dangerous
The fire will go away

No one learns
That way
They will be okay

You are watching

I Worry for the Future

In the store I saw
A box labeled
Sugar Free Peeps

I expected the box to be empty

It wasn't