Charlotte was "helping" me mow the lawn today. Mowing is presently a ridiculous process right now with our reel mower and winter turning right into to two weeks of rain. Until this afternoon, there was a two hour window to mow the lawn during non-work hours over the past two weeks. That was Monday when I had a meeting that ran until 5 p.m. So the grass continued to grow at a rapid rate and over the past two days dandelions have taken off as well and are growing like, well, a weed.
It was comical as Charlotte was struggling to push her toy lawn mower through our bluegrass thicket as much as I was. At one point she dropped her mower and started picking dandelions.
"Look at all the flowers. Daddy growed them."
Indeed, sadly, I should take the blame for this one. I can take a hint Charlotte. Weed and feed is on the to do list, in 25 days, when the 40 days and 40 nights of rain finally comes to a close.
As I was washing dishes I overheard Emily reading a book to Charlotte. It took me awhile to figure out which book because I had the radio on. But when I figured it out, I knew I had to film this beautiful, tender moment.
Over the weekend Charlotte kept on saying "nein" for "no." Emily and I were joking that she is becoming German and just figured it was a coincidence as Charlotte sometimes has her own way of saying things for a day or two and then things return back to normal. But we were still not sure what the heck she was saying.
Well when Emily dropped Charlotte off at daycare today, Mr. Al was mid-lesson teaching the kids to count to ten... in German. So it's safe to assume he has taught them "ja" and "nein" along the way.
I have never been this pregnant before! Actually, these pictures are from a few weeks ago when I was 34 weeks. My brother-in-law, Ben, was kind enough to take some pictures of us before we are four. Plus, I really wanted my own baby bump shot like this one of my sister. It was weird to think that by that time Charlotte was already born. So, this is all new to me - I never outgrew maternity clothes before.
Baby bump peek-a-boo
Charlotte running with her egg sandwich
Our little family. People always ask if Charlotte is excited. I think it's too abstract for a 2 1/2 year old. Mike asked Charlotte what we should name the baby and she said, "Happy." So, we've been talking about where Happy is going to sleep, and she says goodnight to Baby Happy at bedtime. But, I'm sure it will be a big surprise for Charlotte. She loves to play with diapers and wipes, so maybe she will like helping? Charlotte herself is a very happy baby and she's pretty resilient. I think she'll be a good big sister.
While I was cooking dinner tonight Charlotte was in the other room with Emily playing with bristle blocks. Every two minutes or so she would run into the kitchen to show me what she made. It was your typical toddler creations, a boat and then a train. But then she came running in and said she made "Mr. Al with a guitar. He's gonna sing Baby Beluga."
Mr. Al is one of Charlotte's preschool teachers. He is really into music. When I drop Charlotte off, we are one of the first arrivers and Mr. Al is just getting started for the day. He always has some sort of music on his boom box, and his choices range from Bob Dylan to jazz to blues to classical. When Emily drops Charlotte off it is usually two hours later than I do so Mr. Al is in full swing with his lessons for the kid. Emily says he is typically either singing to them or doing a lesson centered around music. Oh yeah, and he loves Charlotte.
And lately Charlotte has really taken to Mr. Al. She made the bristle block Mr. Al before dinner and then just before bedtime, she made another Mr. Al. And then she turned it into a Mr. Al Tower (whatever that is), before reconstructing back to Mr. Al.
Here isa picture of Charlotte just before I turned out the light. She has her blankets, pacifiers, doll tucked in.... and those orange, green, and yellow bristle blocks would be Mr. Al. She insisted he join her in the crib tonight. But she told me he did not need to be tucked in . "He has a polka dot blanket." I think she was referring the bumps on the bristle blocks, but your guess is as good as mine.
Charlotte and I were driving in the car yesterday and we were stopped a traffic light near our house, the hated 42nd and 42nd light. A fellow citizen was out walking his dog.
CHARLOTTE: That a daddy.
ME: What's he doing?
CHARLOTTE: Walking his doggie.
ME: Yeah. That's a really nice looking dog. It's called a golden retriever.
CHARLOTTE: It a golden treever.
ME: And Pancho is kind of a black lab.
CHARLOTTE: Pancho wear a black lab.
ME: No. He IS a black lab. That's the kind of dog he is.
CHARLOTTE: He wear a black lab.
ME: Okay, that dog IS a golden retriever. Pancho IS a black lab.
(five second pause)
CHARLOTTE: Pancho have a black lab on.
Thankfully the light finally turned green at this point and our conversation shifted to that.
It's a task with built-in excuses, but I am not going to use them. This parenting fail is 100% on my shoulders and the guilt runs through my veins. Apologies after a failure like this are meaningless, yet to me, feel necessary. But I won't apologize. I won't make excuses. I will instead accept my failure as a father and will resolve to try harder. That is all I can do.
But it is just so hard to raise a Texan in Minnesota.
Last night Charlotte and I were drawing on the sidewalk in the front yard as we are wont to do. I have this vision of using the front porch and cold beer as a way to make our block one giant Kumbayah community. But the specifics behind that vision is for another discussion or blog entry. I will say this: I just rolled out my plan for "National Night Out Every Night" last week and Emily agrees that the early returns of this soft opening have exceeded expectations. The hard opening won't be for another month or so.
So anyway, Charlotte and I were drawing on the sidewalk. Typically she will ask me to draw something. And then when I draw it, she will color it in. So far, so good. But here is where it got ugly. She asked me to draw a Boe Boe Head (a bunch of characters I made up when I was a kid... in Texas), a zebra (a horse with stripes, so it's kind of Texan), a baby in a crib (they have those in Texas) and then the unspeakable happened.
Charlotte: Draw a bridge over the Mississippi River.
Me: How about the I-35 bridge over the Red River?
Charlotte: No. I want a Lake Street Bridge.
Me: Or maybe I could draw a star or a spur. Or the Olmos Dam. It's like a bridge. Or not like one.
Charlotte: No. Daddy draw a Lake Street Bridge.
No apologies. No excuses. But this girl is sure acting like a Minnesotan.
Over the weekend our house was invaded by a few wasps. We are still sorting where the hive is or if we even have one. But we definitely had a few of them in our house. Big Nacho did his best to kill them, but unfortunately I had to step in.
Having a wasp flying around is stressful enough as it is, but when you couple it with Emily's extreme fear of all things that sting, it was pretty easy for Charlotte to realize that something dramatic was happening. I killed the first one in front of her by smacking it off a wall with a towel and then stomping on it. Charlotte looked a little stressed out and very confused as it all went down, so I just told her I was wasp dancing.
Five minutes later she had her blanket and was whipping it around the room and then stomped on the floor and told me she was wasp dancing.
Later that day she was hanging out on her potty upstairs, waiting for the magic of urination to happen, when I isolated wasp #2 in our bedroom next door to hers. So I told Charlotte I was going to go play a funny game in the bedroom (exactly why I said this is beyond me; I think I was just keep from feeling unnecessarily worried). This wasp was way more aggressive than the previous wasp, yet I was stuck with the same dumb weapon, a towel. Eventually I killed the thing but not before madly slapping the wall and blinds with a towel repeatedly.
Today I was making dinner and Charlotte was playing by herself in the living room when she suddenly came running into the kitchen announcing "I'm gonna play daddy's funny game" and then proceeded to smash the cabinets, fridge, and stove with her toy hammer. As an aside, I fantasize about taking a hammer to our cabinets, too. Only with a sledge kind, not a toy kind.
I was able to coax Charlotte into playing the "funny game" one last time for the video but the video does not reflect all the frantic energy Charlotte had when she first came into the kitchen and played the funny game for her own sake and not mine.
Also, I think we need to invest in a fly swatter. Cats and towels are inefficient ways to fight wasps.
