F-Stop That This Minute

I enjoyed seeing the pictures
Of my friend's kids'
FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL
On Facebook.

The shiny new shoes.
The optimistic smiles.
The homemade signs
Handwritten or printed in comic sans
Complete with the year
                            the grade
                                    the teacher.

First Day of Pre-K!!!
Second and Sixth!
I Can't Believe He's Starting High School!

My kid's pictures were
Conspicuous in their absence from my
Social Media Accounts this year.

The pictures all came out blurry.
Our camera does not have a
Temper tantrum setting.

Wave Pool

The wave pool
Is a watery mosh pit.
My twins are the slam dancers
Feeling the music-
Joyfully careening into strangers.

They are two independently floating
Pieces of flotsam.

They bob up and down
In their red life jackets,
As the waves crash at them
From either side,
Dousing them happily.

I am the yellow shirted bouncer
Facing away from the stage
With ear plugs in,
Annoyed with the jostling
And splashing.

"Too deep"
"Come back"

I am still clinging to the idea of safety.
I am trying not to be a stick in this mud.

I should jump in with them
And float
And bob
And dance.

Hard Work

He grabs a scrap piece of paper and black ink pen
And starts to give a pen a vigorous workout.

Quick jots here and
Long lines there.

He pauses to push the hair out of his eyes and sigh.
He scratches the whole thing out and starts again.

I sidle over to where he sits,
Anxious to see a funny new drawing,
But there are no rock bands playing guitars.
There are no baseball teams.  No Zombies
No TNT.

There are numbers.
Progressively bigger numbers!
He is challenging himself!
He is doing math- high level math
On Summer Break!

He diligently continues his work unabated for several more minutes
Until finally, he looks up,
Beaming with pride.

"Look, Dad"  We still have 5,184,000 seconds left of summer vacation before school starts!"

Important Moments

Pumping gas-
Gazing past but not looking at my
Reflection in the darkened glass,
My mind focused on
The next ten places to go and
The next ten things to do.

I am brought back to the moment
By the vibrating thump thump thump
Of a small hand against the vented back window

I block the sun with my hand
So that I can see through my reflection,
To see who is thumping.
I don't even remember
Who got into which seat.

I see her face-
Shining!
Grinning from ear to ear!
HI! HI! HI!
I see you!
I see Dad out there!
Outside the car!  Pumping the gas!
HI DAD!

The next ten things need to stay the next 10 things.

I return her smile and enthusiastic wave.
Hi Darling!
HI! HI! HI!
I see you there, smiling and waving!
I love you, too!

Closed Doors

Two closed doors

At the top of the stairs. 

Each room a refuge-

A place to let the anger subside. 

They are not mad at each other,

Not this time. 

Each door, decorated with their names

And months old artwork,

Was slammed in my tyrannical face. 

I did not yell, holler, scream

Or stamp my feet at them,

Not this time. 

My crime was only suggesting that

9:45 was too early for lunch.

Where Too Many Men Have Gone Before

When I am older 

And my hair is gray.

When I am hard of hearing

And I need help getting around and 

Taking care of myself.

I hope that you remember today,

My dear, darling daughter.

I hope that you remember the day you asked,

"Daddy, will you go into the port-a-potty with me?"

And I replied,

"Yeah.  Sure.  I guess so."  

The Sweetest of Spots

The almanacs of parenting tell of a time
Where the hard toil of many seasons
Blossoms into a harvest of happiness:

The Sweet Spot

Old enough to not need your
Constant supervision and attention
To be free of diapers and wipes and bags
Able to walk and run and skip and jump without often falling
With a growing playful imagination that can create games on their own

BUT

Young enough
To still want to have you around.
To guard the door of a strange stall or Port-O-Let.
To pick up, bandage and kiss or lend a hand when balance is failing
To pretend to be their scary monster or pirate at the playground

Before the independence you tried to foster for so long
Not only takes hold,
But becomes a barrier between you
As they continue to grow and uproot
On their way to a new garden

Yet Another New Rule

I discovered new tribal art
At bath time.
A trail of ink stamped from
Pale inner wrist to
Outer shoulder.

$418$418$418$418$418$418

She tries to absolve the obviously guilty older brother,
But her testimony crumbles under the anatomic impossibility
Of this being a one man job.

This has lead to a new rule:
NO PRICING YOUR SISTER.

At least he wasn't letting her go for cheap.

Conflict Resolution

"Daddy,
I need your help.
The boys won't let me play their game.
I want to be a princess."
Her face is downtrodden.
Her voice a barely audible squeak.

We travel together to the basement.

Blankets and rearranged chairs have transformed the space into their imaginations' playground.

"Boys, your attention please!

Your sister wants to play with you.

She wants to be a princess.

Please let her be a princess."

Expressions of shock and indignation

Fly in the face of the request.

"But Dad,

There are no princesses

 In World War II!"

I meet the exasperation with a salute as inspiration strikes,

"General!

Meet your new recruit:

Princess Jones"

You Can Decide if This Actually Happened

Come on everybody!

Let's Go!

Get in the Car!

It's time to go to swim!

We are late!

Come on!  Come on!

Don't dilly dally!

Get in the van and buckle up!

Big ones, help the little ones!

I'm right behind you, I just need to lock up the house!

(with this bowl of peanut butter frosting and this spoon)

Okay, let's roll.

I Gotta Feelin'

As a parent

You sometimes get

A feeling 

A feeling

Like you are entering a haunted house

Like you are at the top of the roller coaster

Like opening the door to a surprise party

A feeling 

Like I don't know where this is going to go

But it's probably going to be an interesting ride

It might be a little bit scary

You can either hold on to the railing

Or put your hands in the air and scream

A feeling

Like when you hear

A four year old say to her brother,

"Hey bud, here's the Sharpie you wanted!"

The Legacy of Man

It has taken forty years,
But today I assumed my legacy.

The legacy of a father,
Left to me by my father
And his father before him,
And his father before him.

There were times when others doubted,
Nay!!
Certain I would not,
He will not!!!
Or that I could not,
He can not!!!
Fulfill my birthright.

Alas,
The time was right.
I saw what needed to be done,
And I did that thing.

I cleaned my driveway.

With a hose.

At least the black socks kept my toes warm in the sandals.

The Name Game

I can trace its origins.


I know that your cousin has a cat

That is named after a popular candy

With a plural sounding name.


I am sure that this is a tribute

To little "Snickers" who lives

In the barn.


But it makes me laugh,

When you two are pretending to be

A pet owner and a kitty cat


And all I hear,

Suckers!  Get over here!

C'mon, Suckers!

Suuuuccckkkkerrrsss!

Measuring

"Daddy, I need to borrow the measurer."

I take the yellow and black
Stanley Measuring Tape
And place it firmly in her open palm
A perfect impression of a scrub nurse
It lands with a pat

She crosses the room
With a shuffling run
Quietly sidling next to the
Patient cat

She coordinates her small hands
One feeding the metal tape out
The other keeping it from retreating
Into the tools' plastic snail shell

Slowly Slowly Slowly
The concentration required
Forces her tongue out of her mouth

Finally she exclaims,

"Seventeen Pounds!"

The Chauffeur

Go to swim.
Home from swim.

Go to soccer.
Home from soccer.

Go to piano.
Home from piano.

Go to school.
Home from school.

Have I been demoted
From Dad to Chauffeur?

Does the Chauffeur's heart
Break a little when he drops
The Rock Star off at the five-star hotel?

Does the Chauffeur jump for joy
When the businessman comes out of baggage claim?

I may be putting more miles on the Minivan,
But I am still more Dad than Chauffeur.

Too Much Wedding

Music Throbbing
Lights Flashing
People
   Dancing
     Eating
       Drinking
         Singing
Toddler on her Daddy's lap
Sleeping

Crust Wars

I don't want to eat my crust.

Tough, I say.

It's a grilled cheese sandwich.

I'ts practically all crust.

The cheese layer is just there to stick more crust on.

To not eat the crust is to rob yourself of part of the experience.

I'll eat your crust,

The other one pipes in,

Grabbing the black carby worm from her sister's hand,

And popping it into her mouth.

Yum-a!

Hey,

She was going to eat that!

You have robbed your sister of some character development!

This was a teachable moment!

Maybe I'll eat my crust next time.
Maybe.

Put down your phone

Daddy put down your phone.
This is George!
He is an invisible turtle riding guy!
He landed on the color red!
Daddy put down your phone.

Daddy put down your phone.
Did you see the race car in the museum?
It looked soooo fast.
Do you think it can still race?
Daddy put down your phone.

Daddy put down your phone.
Do you want to toe clap?
It is where you clap your toes together like hands.
It is like a toe high five!
Daddy put down your phone.

Daddy put down your phone.
I am six.
I will only be six for one year.
The internet will still be there
When I go to school,
Or when I am in bed at night.
Daddy put down your phone.

Dear My Boss

Dear my boss,
Please accept my sincere apologies
Regarding my late arrival at work today.

You see,
The dolly had only one shoe and it was the white shoe not the blue shoe and this is the dolly that has the white shoes!

And then,
The shirt was the blue shirt with the bird, not the blue shirt with the flowers and that doesn't go with the pink shorts with the stripes!

This was complicated by,
Not enough of milk in the cereal, no I need milk in my bowl not milk in my glass!

I will endeavor to address these issues in the future,
And avoid any further tardiness.

Sincerely,
Employee dad

Mop Top

I am not sure what caused his hair

This summer

To turn from a straight brown mop

Into a wonderful conflagration.

Sun kissed strands

Jutting this way and that 

Crashing waves frozen in time

A white blonde pile of pick up sticks

Defiant of any comb or brush

Sweat?

Sunscreen?

Super Cuts?

Thank you.

It is glorious.