Dad's day off...

Jen is on spring break this week. So as a bonus, I got a "day off." It's a Sunday, and after she got back from yoga, I took off. I was officially free for the day. Of course, it was quite chilly. But a I grabbed a backpack, my iPod, newspapers, books, and trekked on down to the T. I headed into the city, just wandering a bit, unencumbered. If that sounds less than exciting, let me assure you, it wasn't. Except for attending a journalism conference back in November, I hadn't really just experienced the city by myself very much. So this was liberating, wandering around Boston Commons, Copley Square, Quincy Market.

Near Boston Commons, I ducked into a movie theater, simply because I could. I saw "The Host," an excellent South Korean monster movie. Outstanding, really. After that, I toured some more, making my way to the North End, the Italian district. I stopped for an espresso, and then picked up some canolis to take home. I stopped in the old North Church (where Paul Revere got the infamous signal...)

But the funny thing was, all this alone time gave me time to think about how my time with the kids is coming to an end. As dinnertime neared, I knew I had permission to stay out as late as I wanted. But I decided to head home, because I missed the critters and Jen, of course. It was a surprise to me. Okay, maybe I'm just a masochist. But I know I'm going to miss spending all this time with them when we're back in Oakland. And so I got back for dinner and bedtime, glad to see them, and glad for day off.

Dan Zanes...

We had a fabulous time at our first Dan Zanes concert today. We went with a big group of folks, 20 including us. Somehow, I had gotten it into my head to turn this into a big production. Given the general craziness of our lives, I probably should have just bought us a few tickets and been done with it.

Still, I had originally thought that it would make a good outing for the kids in Liam's preschool. But it sort of morphed into something else. There was us, and two other Blue Room Families. Then there was a friend from Coop, our friends Anita and George, Bay Area transplants, Debbie, another SF refugee. In all, a diverse group, and lots of fun.

Our seats weren't stellar, but the kids were still into it. Here's a bad video clip, via my camera:

Father and sons...

By coincidence, I just read two consecutive books exploring relationships between father and sons.

The first was "Lay of the Land," by Richard Ford. This is the latest in Ford's epic "Frank Bascombe" trilogy. While the first two are among my favorite books, you don't need to have read them to appreciate this one. In any case, in this latest installment, our hero is 57, and gearing up to host a Thanksgiving weekend that will include a visit from his son, who is in his late 20s. While his son makes a decent living writing for a greeting card company in Kansas City, Frank, who lives on the Jersey shore, can't escape his disappointment over the way his son has turned out. It's not that the son is a failure, in any measurable way. Rather, for Bascombe, it's the small things, like his son's mullet, or that he lives in in the Midwest (gasp!), or that his worldview is considerably different. Despite good intentions, both father and son can't seem to connect, or understand each other. In the previous book, the son was a teenager with growing troubles in school and life which Frank tried -- and failed -- to repair.

The second book was "Gilead," by Marilynne Robinson. This was our latest book club pick. It's a slim, slow read. The father in this case is an Iowa pastor who got married and had a son in his late 60s. It's now the 1950s, and having just found out he doesn't have long to live, the father is writing a long letter to his young son, telling him all the things he will never have a chance to say when the boy is old enough to understand them. It's a subtle book that sneaks up you at the end.

I really enjoyed both, on their own terms. Of course, it's hard not to read them and not have the vague anxiety that all parents probably have at one point or another about how their kids will turn out, and how much you can even influence that. Will Liam be able to make friends? Will Kalian mellow out? Will Liam be a trenchcoat wearing, skateboarding, smoking-behind-the-school kid? Will Kalian continue along the path to becoming a girlie girl?

I guess the real question is this: Will I be able accept them for what they become, and not measure them against some ideal I had in mind for them? I hope so.

The Wisdom of Liam

The other day, I got a bit frustrated with Liam for spilling something. Frankly, I can't even remember exactly what it was. But I let loose with the "F-word" and immediately regretted it.

Liam then stuck his hands in pants and got a sad look on his face.

"Liam, are you sticking your hands in your pants because you're upset with me?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. And then: "Daddy, don't say f--k. Next time, just say, 'Liam, please don't do that.' Okay?"

Yes, buddy. Lesson learned.

Hair Today, part 2...

Speaking of hair (see Kalian's below), I had a radical makeover today. I got the SuperCuts special. And I shaved the Grizzly Adams beard that had sprouted. So I look 15 years old now. Jen is shell shocked. I'm sure my mom will be tickled. Kalian ran away from me when I picked her up at Coop today. Liam's friends ran over to check it out when I got him at preschool.

Noted one of the kids: "Hey, you're not going to be able to do a ponytail anymore."

True.

Liam's vision...

As were eating tonight, Liam announced:

"I have something fun I want to tell you guys. After dinner, I want to build a truck that blows up cars and houses and makes ice cream."

Kid Logic

I've recently become obsessed with listening to "This American Life." I know I'm the last person on the planet to discover the show. But I mention it because the show last week was on "Kid Logic." It's an amusing and interesting look at how kids experience the world.

I've posted a link to the show to the right if you want to give a listen.

One commentator noted that little kids are like scientists, constantly conducting experiments on objects and people around them. I'm going to have to keep that in mind next time Kalian is chucking her bowl of food on the floor.

Hair today...

Apropos of nothing, we've been talking a lot about Kalian's hair. We have now dubbed it, the "Rod Stewart Hair." It may look like she just woke up. She didn't. This is just what it's like. It's growing in 50 different directions quite naturally, thank you.

Hey, Huckleberry...

Great parenting moment tonight. I was putting Liam to bed. His usual routine is that I offer to read him three books. He insists on four. I give in. But tonight, he noticed one of Jen's books sitting on the night stand: "Huckleberry Finn." He picked it up and asked me what it was. There were some rought sketches every few pages to hold his attention. I asked him if he wanted me to read it, and he said, "Yes."

So we lay back on the bed, and read the first two chapters of Huckleberry Finn. Liam seemed to follow along fine and understand a good bit of it. Though it was tricky explaining Jim's relationship. But Liam totally understood that Huck didn't like to follow the rules, and so he snuck out in the middle of the night to meet his buddy, Tom Sawyer.

Hopefully that didn't give him any ideas....

Monday, Monday...

Jen elbowed me in the ribs.

"Can you take Kalian to go pee?"

It was 6:45 a.m. A good morning. This is about as late as we can hope she sleeps. I rolled over, and Kalian was peeking over her mother's shoulder. I slid past Liam, who had crawled into our bed sometime in the middle of the night.

"Pee-pee?" I asked Kalian. She replied, "Yeah!" I walked to the bathroom and she followed, pulling down her PJs and sitting right down on her potty. I was slowly waking up. Kalian, did her pee, then reached down, lifted the basin out of her potty, dumped it in the big toilet, and then replaced it. After washing hands, we headed to the kitchen.

"What do you want for breakfast?" I said.

"Ree-ree."

"Raisins?"

"Yeah!" and then "Bo--" as she pointed to the bowls.

I complied. I made coffee. I ate. I catered to her whims ("Mo' wa-wa.")

This is the rush morning. We have to be out of the house by 7:30 a.m. to get Liam to his occupational therapy appointment at 8 a.m. across town. I make lunch for him. I get her diaper bag ready. I change a shirt, brush my teeth, in a half-hearted nod to personal hygiene. I gather some food Liam can eat in the car. He's still sleeping and it's 7:20 a.m. I lift him up, now he's screaming. I change his clothes, brush his teeth, and carry him down to the car. It's 7:30 a.m.

Liam, Kalian and I fly through the Cambridge traffic. I'm driving and handing them bananas and rice cakes with almond butter at the same time. We get to the school early for a change, and head down the therapy room, where we find Tina, Liam's occupational therapist. For the next 45 minutes, Liam runs through a variety of tasks to build his coordination and planning skills. He swings from a harness while picking up stuffed frogs; he pulls putty apart to dig out little plastic animals, and he paints a mural by dipping a toilet plunger in some paint.

Then we're back in the car, scrambling back across town to his preschool. We arrive at 9:10 a.m. I park and we escort Liam to his room (the Blue Room), which is already packed with kids. This is an overwhelming time for Liam, and he wanders from group to group, trying to figure out who is doing what, before finally settling in. We hug, and then say goodbyes.

On our way out, we bump into one of the other Blue Room moms, Julie. She invites Kalian and I to join her for coffee around the corner at Darwin's, our favorite cafe. Julie's son is about Kalian's age (21 months!). We make stabs at adult conversation in between subduing the kiddies. And then we have to go, across town again, to Trader Joe's. It's 10:00 a.m.

I plow through the aisles, grabbing food, stuffing snacks into Kalian's mouth. We check out, and drive home where we unpack the groceries. It's 11:15 a.m. We play for a bit, then eat some lunch. Then it's back into the car to pick up Liam at preschool.

A new feature of our Monday is Sports Class at the Little Gym in Woburn. The Little Gym is a local chain of gymnastic studios. We signed up Liam for a "sports class" which is a mix of gymnastics and learning basic sport skills. The current focus is hockey. Liam loves it. He's enthusiastic, coordinated, focused, and follows direction during the hour-long class. In other words, he becomes a kid I hardly recognize, but in a good way.

Only drawback: The class is in Woburn, a 30 minute drive north. We're in the car. Again. I'm handing food back over the seats as we work our way to the highway and then up to Woburn. But once we're there, Liam is bubbling with excitement.

The class is over and Liam is still bursting. I coral him and we get back into the car to drive home. We arrive, ramble up the steps and sit down for a snack. It's 3:30 p.m. We play. Liam wants to build a car wash and begins furiously cutting some paper which we tape to a box. We also play some music, which Liam is rediscovering. Kalian is coloring. Then it's time to make dinner.

Jen's schedule is even crazier this semester. She doesn't get home until 6:30 p.m. on Mondays. So the three of us eat. Fish sticks. My ambition was once to prepare an elaborate, well balanced, home cooked meal every night. That lasted a few weeks last summer but was abandoned by Fall. The bar for meals continues to drop. After eating, I do the dishes while the kids run around.

Jen arrives at 6:30 p.m. I am already putting on my coat and packing a backpack for the gym. Monday nights I've been taking a Scottish fiddling class. I haven't played the violin much since high school. But the class has been great. It's taught by an oustanding local fiddle player named Hanneke Cassel. The class is a blast, though my playing is woeful. Judge for yourself. Here's me practicing a tune we're learning, "Stella's Trip To Cam Loops":

powered by ODEO

After class, I rush to the T which I take to the gym for a quick workout until the gym closes at 10 p.m. I take the T back, and then walk home. It's just starting to snow. I arrive home and Jen says she's feeling horrible. She asks me to go out and get her some heartburn medicine. I drop my stuff, get back in the car, and drive slowly to the pharmacy through the snow which is really coming down now. I get home with the medicine. It's 10:45 p.m. Jen is getting worse and has the beginning of the flu, which later causes her to cancel a trip later in the week to Berkeley.

We go to bed at 11:15 p.m. Jen is feeling awful. It's going to be a long night.

We've come a long way...

Two weeks and no blog. Yet the news is mostly good. We survived the Massachusetts winter break. Schools here close twice during this semester for a week. I felt tremendous anxiety leading up to this first break. I kept having acid flashbacks to last summer, when both kids were home every day, clawing each other's eyes out. No preschool for Liam. No Coop for Kalian. Egads.

In fact, the week was quite pleasant. More than that, it was a lot of fun. And when it wound down, I realized just how far we've all come since last summer.

The biggest and most obvious changes are in Liam and Kalian. Besides being six months older, their relationship has changed dramatically. It might be too much to call them buddies, but they play together quite a bit, cracking each other up, talking to each other. Kalian has taken on the role of troublemaker, inducing her older brother into trouble by throwing food, standing on her chair, and causing mayhem. Occasionally, the fun turns into naked aggression. But not so much.

That meant that during the off week, I didn't wake up with stomach-churning stress trying to figure out an activity, or a trip, or something to soothe the savage beasts. Instead, we spent several mornings, the three of us, just leisurely hanging out in the apartment and playing.

For the most part, this was made possible by some dramatic changes in Liam, and mostly for the better. The little guy has really blossomed in the last few weeks. If you read my posts from last fall, when we were so worried about his development and stuttering, it would have been hard to imagine. But his language and speech have improved dramatically. He has become far more coordinated. But most interesting, his range of interests have radically expanded.

While he still likes trucks, legos, and trains, he's far more interested in imaginative play, and doing art projects. A few weeks ago, he was barely interested in picking up a crayon. Now he hatches these elaborate schemes for creating things and plunges right in. It seems every time I turn around, he's picking up some scissors, or string, or tape, or crayons, to make some project. One day, after reading a Curious George book where he goes fishing, Liam wanted to act out most of the book, including making a fishing pole from a mop and a hook in the kitchen.

After attending a recent Chinese New Year parade in Boston, we came home and Liam wanted to make a lion out of a box and a blanket so he, Kalian and I, could parade around the house all afternoon. Liam helped tape up the box, paint it, cut out eyes from paper, and tape them on.

Beyond the kids themselves, our social scene has begun to feel more expansive. During the week off, we hosted two of Kalian's friends from Coop, Maya and Alex. Another friend, Charlotte, came and played one afternoon. The next morning, a little girl from preschool that Liam adores, Katharine, came over to play. The two of them sat at our craft table for an hour just pasting and taping stuff together.

On the social front, things have been feeling more casual, and easier. Strange, of course, to think we'll be leaving in three months, just as we are feeling more embraced.

We even had a friend visit from New York, Alayna, who took the bus up here and stayed over the President's Day Weekend. It was great to see her, and selfishly, I'm always happy to have someone help the kids. She was even gracious enough to babysit one night so Jen and I could see a movie. ("The Lives of Others." Great, even though I fell asleep for 20 minutes in the middle.)

By the end of the week, I was definitely ready for a break. But for the most part, it was a wonderful time. And as we begin to think about returning to Oakland, it even makes me a little sad to think that I won't have many more months to experience these kind of extended moments.

Chinese New Year

Last Friday, Liam's classroom, dubbed the "Blue Room", staged its annual Chinese New Year celebration. The celebration was part of the weekly assembly at Cambridge-Ellis preschool, where all the rooms take turns singing a song for everyone.

But this week, the Blue Room was the main event. They had been practicing their Dragon Dance for a couple weeks. Marissa, the main teacher, led the group while holding the "Pearl of Fire." The Dragon (whose head was worn by Jermaine, another BR teacher) was supposed to be trying to chase the Pearl of Fire. And Liam was pretty excited about this. At the dragon's tail is Saba, the other BR teacher.

Jen and I and Kalian all managed to make it this week to see how young master Liam and his comrades would do. See for yourself:

 

A day in the life...of me

My day today:

Woke up close to 7 a.m. A miracle that Kalian let us sleep so late. Checked outside for Boston Globe, the newspaper with the worst delivery service ever. As usual, it's not there. Hmmm, wonder why it's a dying industry?

Eat breakfast. Make lunch for Liam, who will be at preschool until 3 p.m. The kids refuse to let me dress them now. A major power play on their part. I get everything else ready while Jen tends to them. We wait impatiently while Liam decides which "home toy" to bring to school.

We load into the car. I drop Jen and Liam at Cambridge-Ellis, which is just a few blocks away. But heck, it's freezing out.

I drive across town to the Coop, where I'll drop Kalian for the morning. She rushes right in. I say a few hellos, and then run like hell. Back into the car, just past 9 a.m. and back home. Make some coffee. And then sit down to do some work. I'm applying to a multimedia training seminar at Berkeley in March, so I spend most of the morning writing the various essays required. In between, I return a couple dozen emails.

It's 11 a.m., and I decide to unplug. I pull out my fiddle and practice. I've been taking a Scottish fiddle class at a local folk club on Monday nights. Teacher is excellent, though my skills are weak. I'm relearning after not playing much for 18 years. Unfortunately, the kids shriek in horror if I play while they're at home. And it wakes them up when they're sleeping. So I have to do this during my "alone time."

Then back in the car to pick up Kalian at noon. We stop by Whole Foods to pick up stuff I need to make quiche for a breakfast at Liam's preschool tomorrow. We have lunch, and then I put her down for a nap at 1:30 p.m. I jump back on the computer to answer a bunch of emails, make a few phone calls about preschools for Kalian. And then it's time to pick up Liam.

I pull Kalian out of the crib, still asleep, put her in the car, and drive down the street. We hop out and find Liam on the playground. His class is studying Chinese New Year, and they watched a video about a Chinese dragon. Liam can't stop talking about it as we get back into the car. We drive back across town to pick up Jen who is taking a class at MIT this semester.

We're home just in time for me to make a scheduled phone call to the business manager of the student paper at Duke University. This is where I first got into newspapers. And for the past few months, I've been working on a grant proposal for them to get some money for a new newsroom. We've made it through several rounds, but the donor wants some more info, so we have to chat about that a bit.

Then I have to make a quick call to another preschool for Kalian. And presto, dinner is ready! Jen had made stir fry. After we're done, I attempt to begin making the quiche. I'm making four for Valentine's Day breakfast tomorrow. Am I nuts? Probably. Ham and cheese (2). Tomato and goat cheese. Broccoli. But I don't get too far before I stop to help Liam, whose Lego helicopter breaks every 30 seconds.

Next thing I know, Liam is trying to poop on the potty (yes!), but he's asking for more poop toys (uh-oh). We're running out. So somehow he gets out his erector set, and I get sucked into building him another helicopter. No poop today (darn). But I've built another helicopter. Jen takes Liam to bed, and I'm back to making quiche.

I pop those into the oven at 9 p.m. And then I start cleaning the kitchen, then the living room (Exciting new development in my life: We bought a dustbuster!), then I do some laundry.

What's next? I'm back at the computer. It's after 10 p.m. I need to start working on my weekly column for the Mercury News (http://insiderstocksales.blogspot.com/). Except I'm too distracted. And I need to edit two papers for Jen. So, of course, I prograstinate in that most modern of ways: By blogging.

Let it snow...

We are on the cusp of our first major snow storm. Maybe. There have been a couple false alarms. So I'll believe it when I see it tomorrow morning.

How little snow has there been this year? From today's Boston Globe:

The tide may be turning, though, with the region expected to get its first real snowstorm after midnight tomorrow , expected to mix with rain by daytime. Still, Boston has received 21 fewer inches of snow than a normal year, with about 2 inches of recorded snow so far this winter, according to the National Weather Service station in Taunton.

To quote that great philosopher George Bush: "Bring it on!"

Poop!

Today we experienced an earth-shattering event. Liam pooped in the potty for the first time. This moment has been a long-time coming. After years of gentle persuasion, we have shifted in recent months to desperate measures, and stooped to a number of strategies we vowed to never employ. Attempts to bribe him have included offers of every treat imaginable. But nothing has ever swayed him.

Then Jen cribbed an idea she'd heard about. We went to the local toy store and told Liam he could pick out anything. Anything! But that he could only play with it after he'd pooped in the potty. Fortunately, Liam picked out a Lego rescue helicopter (rather than some $200 scooter). We took it home on Sunday and put it on a mantle. He stared at it all day, wandered in and out of the bathroom, kept asking for it, wandered back to the potty to try again.

I think he must have sat on the potty for several hours off and on when it was all over. But it happened. He's had some serious emotional issues around this. And I'm so proud of him today. Even if our actions will probably get us a write up on ShamefulParenting.com. And it was great to see him so obviously proud of himself.

After the BIG EVENT, I spent an hour assembling the helicopter. Liam simply calls it his Poop Toy. Whatever. Good for him.

Speaking of princess...

Look what's coming to town:

Where do I get tickets?

Princess

Last week, Jen passed along a fascinating piece from Berkeley writer Peggy Orenstein, called, "What's Wrong With Cinderella?" For anyone raising a girl, it's worth checking out here (NY Times registration required, I think. If you can't get in, ask me to email you a copy).

Basically, Orenstein is sounding the alarm over the growing princess trend that's being pushed by marketing agencies onto little girls. There's a lot to think about here. She writes:

Diana may be dead and Masako disgraced, but here in America, we are in the midst of a royal moment. To call princesses a ''trend'' among girls is like calling Harry Potter a book. Sales at Disney Consumer Products, which started the craze six years ago by packaging nine of its female characters under one royal rubric, have shot up to $3 billion, globally, this year, from $300 million in 2001. There are now more than 25,000 Disney Princess items. ''Princess,'' as some Disney execs call it, is not only the fastest-growing brand the company has ever created; they say it is on its way to becoming the largest girls' franchise on the planet.

We've been grappling with gender issues since both kids started in school/daycare last fall. As I've mentioned, Kalian has become a willful little girl. We often catch ourselves calling her "princess" and yet trying to stop ourselves from doing it. Even more, since she's been walking last summer, she's become drawn to so many "girl" things. She's picky about her clothes, shoes, jacket, etc. She's obsessed with her baby dolls.

At the same time, the group of kids in Liam's preschool room tend to be very gender segregated. It's not unusual to walk in and see all the boys in one corner and the girls somewhere else. Lots of people tell us this is typical for the age, but still...It carries on outside the classroom, especially at events like birthday parties.

Recently, at one of the birthday parties we attended, the cake was a giant sculpted "Ariel" from The Little Mermaid. Liam had recently seen the movie and loved it, too. At the party, the girls got tiara's to wear. And the boys got pirate hats. And at the end, there were blue gift bags for the boys, and pink for the girls. The boys' gift bag included a small lego rescue vehild which has immediately become Liam's favorite toy. The people throwing the party are clearly wonderful parents, and their little girl loves mermaid stuff. So why does this immediately set off a mental alarm? Why not just celebrate what your little one loves? Orenstein takes time wondering if she, too, is overacting. Where's the harm? She writes:

On the other hand, maybe I'm still surfing a washed-out second wave of feminism in a third-wave world. Maybe princesses are in fact a sign of progress, an indication that girls can embrace their predilection for pink without compromising strength or ambition; that, at long last, they can ''have it all.'' Or maybe it is even less complex than that: to mangle Freud, maybe a princess is sometimes just a princess. And, as my daughter wants to know, what's wrong with that?

Indeed, what's so awful? The articles raises more questions than it answers, ultimately. And I think that's because there isn't a clear cut answer. We're trying to stick to our philosophy of being gender neutral. But it's difficult.

After reading the article, though, I was curious about the reaction it generated. And the letters from readers hit on some things that we've also worried about:

Actually, little boys have it tougher. When a little girl wants to dress up as Spider-Man, it's no big deal. When a little boy enjoys the thrill of twirling in circles in a pink, sparkly frock, it's frowned upon.

Cara Putzrath

Charlotte N.C.

So true. When Liam first started preschool, and his hair was down to his shoulder, kids would ask him if he was a boy or girl. His favorite thing to bring to school is his baby doll (which he calls Kalian). But we'd walk in sometimes, and some of the kids would ask me why Liam has a doll. "Dolls are for girls," they'd say. "Well, I use to play with dolls," I'd reply (which is true: GI JOE). These days, it's not uncommon for Liam to say: "Boys play sports. Girls can't be firefighters. She can't play with my trucks because she's a girl." We try to be patient in our deprogramming.

Which is not shift the blame to his school, or anyone out here. I agree that this becomes a natural tendency for kids at this age. I guess the question is how -- and how hard -- to fight it?

Movie Night...

We're just wrapping up another movie night and Liam is off to bed. Tonight, "Madagascar" was in the DVD player. I took the kids out to ye olde Blockbuster to get a couple movies, and to get them out of the house for a bit while Jen did some studying.

Movie Night has become a regular feature of our time here in Cambridge. And we've watched enough so that I'm running out of ones that we'll all enjoy. And picking out kids' movies is tricky. For instance, this last week, I put an oldie called "The Yearling" on our Netflix list to watch with Liam. Yowza. Has anyone else seen this G-rated bloodbath? I vaguely remember it, but like so many things I watched as kid, I had forgotten how violent "kids" movies could be.

The set up for the Yearling sounded innocent enough. A family living on the frontier. Their 11-year-old boy, Jody, is lonely and longs for a pet to care for. He adopts a baby deer and raises it. What could be sweeter, right?

Except, of course, living on the frontier means everyone carries guns. So that was problem number one. Then we learn the reason Jody is so lonely: His parents had about 30 different kids, but they all died. We learn this as the camera pans across the numerous gravestones behind their home. ("Daddy, what are those?" "Well, those are gravestones because people are buried there..." "Why...?" "Well...").

But the real kicker was the way Jody came to adopt his deer. Jody's father discovers their pigs have been stolen by their hillbilly neighbor, Clem. So he grabs his gun and Jody and they set off to get them hogs back. As they're walking, Jody unsheathes the 8-inch knife he's carrying. But as they're tracking through the woods, dad gets bit by a rattlesnake on his hand! So dad takes out his knife and starts hacking off the skin so he can suck the poison out. Jody's freaking out. ("Dad, don't die...!) They get up to run for help, when dad spots a momma deer. He whips out his shotgun and blasts the deer. Then he tells Jody to carve out the deer's heart and kidney.

Jody runs over to the deer, kneels down and digs right in with his big honkin' knife. Next thing, he's running back to his dad, with a heart in one hand and a kidney in the other, both hands dripping with blood. Dad puts the organs on the wound because they apparently suck out the poison. (Who knew? Holistic medicine frontier style.) Then he tells Jody to run for help. Jody runs screaming for the hillbilly neighbor. Except, just as he's about to run, he sees the baby deer, and immediately realizes they just whacked its mom. Later, when dad lives, Jody lays on the guilt trip and convinces his dad to let him raise the baby deer. Soft focus shot of happy boy. Cue the swelling music....And fade out...

I asked Liam if he understood what had just happened. And he said, "That baby dear is sad." And then he said, "Daddy, I want a pet." "What kind of pet?" "A baby giraffe." "Well, we'll have to see when we get back to Oakland..."

Fortunately, Liam didn't wig out. And that's a big shift because Liam went through an extended period of being terrified by just about any movie or DVD except Blue's Clues. ("Ya gotta find another paw print, that's the second clue...!") A couple years back, we tried to go to a movie theater to see "March of the Penguins" and he was so terrified, that it wasn't until recently that he was even open to the idea of viewing anything remotely resembling a movie or DVD.

But starting last fall, he became more open to the idea. We rented "Mary Poppins" and he loved it. And he loved "Willy Wonka." At the time anyway. Now he keeps asking me if I'm chewing gum and says that gum scares him. ("Daddy, I'll help you...I'll take you to the juicing room."). And along the way we've watched the standards: Toy Story, Nemo. We even went to the movie theater over the holidays and saw "Happy Feet." Stressful moments that used to send him scurrying out of the room now don't seem to faze him much. In fact, now he laughs hysterically through movies like "Madagascar." The current favorite, though, is "Curious George," which Liam quotes liberally throughout the day. ("You're going to want to put those cucumbers back..." "You lost me at lost...") Strangers, of course, just look at him like, "Huh?"

Diaper free

As I noted recently, the diaper free thing has been going great. Kalian often goes to the potty on her own. She insists on doing everything herself. Going in, pulling down her pants, wiping, and then dumping it all in the big potty. Not bad for 20 months old. But my favorite thing is what she now likes to do while she's going to the potty:

My daughter is now a 50-year-old man. Sitting on the potty. Reading the newspaper.

Back to School

The blog went on hiatus for a couple weeks because I did, too. Jen started her Spring semester yesterday. The two weeks before that, she was on extended break. I got some much needed rest and relaxation. And of course, I only got a fraction of what I wanted to accomplish done. But there you go. Isn't life always like that? I'm packing my schedule with other crap when I should be taking it easy.

The time off was good, overall. It included a trip to Western Mass. to Kripalu, a yoga and meditation retreat. Jen has a big entry on this over at her site, so I won't bore you with more details. But it was a fabulous time, other than it being sub-arctic temperatures. Organic food, some great yoga classes, a little meditation. And a pretty setting. We came back Friday and already, Jen was gearing up for the start of school over the weekend.

Our weekend included a trip to the art museum, this time with the whole family. We were invited by a new friend, Francesca, who we met at Kripalu who does some work there. The museum had a kids' event Saturday morning which included mimes. The event was great, but as our friend, Francesca, noted, it may have been planned for kids by people who don't have children. To wit, the breakfast included two roving mimes. The mimes mainly seemed to be scaring the crap out of the kids. Is there anything freakier to little kids than mimes and clowns?

Liam had a great time. Toward the end, a sketch class full of elementary school age kids came into the gallery where we were sitting. The museum had given us a goodie bag with a little sketch pad and crayons. Liam pulled them out, and then wandered over to sit with the group and try to draw the statue they were studying. And then he kept showing his sketch to the teacher, who welcomed this little interloper. Given all the challenges we've had with Liam's development, it was great to seem him just jump right into the group and try to follow along. Even better to see him take an interest in something arts and craft related, something he's doing more often at home, too.

And so, Jen started school yesterday, which went fine on the home front. Though Kalian has clearly gotten re-attached to momma. We went grocery shopping in the morning. And when we pulled into the drive way, Kalian just kept pointing to the house and saying, "Mommy?" "No mommy," I said. And then the wailing began. It went on most of the afternoon. Though she was more relaxed today.

Time, as they say, is flying by. We've been here seven months now. We go back to Oakland in a little more than four months. I'm spending a big chunk of my free time applying to preschools for Kalian. It's an odd feeling, having one foot back in the Bay Area, at least in a mental sense.

Kalian is starting to spit out all sorts of words. And she's become increasingly independent. Today, after lunch, I was washing the dishes. She walked into the bathroom on her own, pulled down her pants, and went poop. Not bad for only 20 months. I've groused about the diaper free thing, but it has definitely worked it's magic.

As for me, I've been trying to put some time into thinking about my own career. After a year at home with the kids, what do I want to do? Officially, I'm on leave from the Mercury News. But when I go back, what do I want to write about? I have an idea for a blog, but do I want to live the blogger lifestyle (posting like a madman at all hours)? And so many people have the Merc since last summer...Sigh.

Well, stay tuned...