Our preschool years are over. Earlier this morning I watched my daughter get on the school bus for the first time (she starts a new school today), and in about an hour I’ll walk my son to his first day of Kindergarten. We’ve fantasized about this day for years—the extra time that my wife will…
My daughter, our first-born, turned eight yesterday and it’s got me thinking, particularly about how much my thinking has changed since 2004. I used to think about “the kind of daughter” I wanted to raise. How could I have ever dared to define another spirit? Instead, our daughter has brought us the spectacular gift of herself, beyond any dream or fear or expectation. This child is, thank God, utterly and fiercely herself. Even though many days her peculiarities fray me raw, I pray to never stop feeling grateful for and protective of them. I can forecast the (not so far-off)…
Life isn’t always about chasing what you want. Sometimes life gives you more than you ever could have dreamed of had you kept yourself chained to your own delusions. Corny? True. In only 5 years, our son has taught us every step of the way to embrace the unexpected. A surprising but joyous pregnancy becomes a difficult and potentially dangerous pregnancy. An orderly, scheduled induction becomes a “this baby is coming and don’t anyone get in the way” overnight express train. A little brother so easily overshadowed by an exuberant sister becomes the wisest and most quietly brilliant sun in…
We go through a lot of maple syrup All else being equal, my children’s default state is “fighting” Every morning, the fucking city plows another foot of snow onto the apron of my driveway and crushes my will to live Podcasts are more enjoyable while commuting We are filthy people There is, in fact, a limit to how much coffee I can drink Time, it turns out, is not the issue; it’s attention Everything that happens in The Shining makes much more sense to me now
My daughter claims she wants to be an artist, and decided (all on her own) that she wanted to create a museum featuring her favorite "cruisers" (her word for art projects) that she had made in the past year. So she went through the archives, selected a bunch of her favorites, and we decided to take the idea seriously. We all dressed for the occasion, hung the art in the living room, invited Grandma and Grandpa Morrow, served appetizers and champagne, etc. It was a full weekend project, but we all had a blast. She was so proud of herself.…
I don’t know, I’m guessing this has been linked to all over the Web, but in case you haven’t seen it here is Mr. Obama’s (open) letter to his daughter’s upon assuming the presidency. Would have been hard to say it any better, I imagine. PARADE Magazine | Barack Obama: A Letter to My Daughters.
In the middle of a cul de sac in the town where we used to live is a little island of grass and a single, nondescript street lamp that holds the stature of myth in our family. I speak of The Green Light. The Green Light, so named and mythologized by my daughter at two years of age, cast a peculiar green shade from its vantage point at the end of our street. I’m sure that with a little while of dedicated Googling I could determine the reason this light cast such a verdant hue, though as you’ll see I’m…
Maybe, just maybe, the best tumblog of the year. 1001 rules for my unborn son. Let’s get some things straight before I get old and uncool. Just for the record, I do not currently have any unborn children, so don’t get any ideas. (via Shawn Blanc)