It’s been a very cold week here in Wisconsin. Even taking the Littles outside to play on the snow mound isn’t much fun. But my kids have adapted a little, though it provides a hilarious scenario this week.
Emma has been asking Me to play hide and seek in the house with her. I finally had to break the news to her that there aren’t a lot of places for Daddy to hide inside the house. So we decided to play Hide A Stuffy. She picked a stuffed animal and we took turns hiding that for the seeker to find. It usually ended up playing Hot/Cold for her to find it. Or she would beg for hints.
This week her and Jackson played it together without Dad. I’m listening as she keeps adding more stuffies for Jackson to hide at the same time (they got up to 7 or 8 before the game broke down.)
Now, Jackson doesn’t quite understand how Hide and Seek works yet. He’s the kid you can call his name and he’ll tell you he’s “over here”. So he hides the stuffed animals. Then proceeds to tell Emma things like, ”I hid it over here.” While pointing to a cabinet or behind a box. Sometimes he would just tell her what room it was in, and I had hope for those rounds.
Every time he’d tell her exactly where something was, Emma would yell at him he isn’t supposed to tell her. I overheard an exchange that went something like this.
E: Ok, Jackson, you have to give me a hint.
J: I hid them here in Teta’s room. (As he leads her into their big brother’s room.)
E: (moments later, yelling) I SAID DON’T TELL ME WHERE IT IS.
J:(sits on the couch) I need a break. Can you put in Paw Patrol… or Blaze. I changed my mind. Blaze.
This week was a fun one. My 5-year-old daughter, Emma, has a Youtube channel where she has done some cooking shows because she loves being in the kitchen. If you guys would go subscribe to her channel it would mean the world to her. We share all the comments with her because it is a passion project for her.
So, her little brother, Jackson, has tried to get into the kitchen in the past. As a newly minted 3-year-old, he has really begun to assert himself with Emma. Really since she started 5 day a week kindergarten and he had more time to himself. Earlier in the week, we needed to crack eggs for scrambled eggs to do Breakfast for Dinner. Just him, myself, and my wife were home. He wanted to help Mommy in the kitchen, so she set him up with a small bowl to crack eggs into. We did this for Emma when she first started because of shell pieces. Well, he must have cracked over a dozen eggs and only had one or two tiny pieces of shell.
My wife took some video and I snapped a couple pictures. We asked him if he was going to do a cooking show like Emma, and he enthusiastically said yes. Then my wife tried to get him to do an intro, “Hi it’s me Jackson, and I’m cooking in the kitchen.”
His response, “Can’t do it.” As he continues cracking eggs like a pro, he starts waving at the camera and says. “I’m Jackson, Cooking in the Kitchen.” Then goes back to cracking eggs. He wouldn’t repeat it, so the video shot isn’t as polished as Emma’s. It is very Jackson though.
Time flies when the world is in crisis and you have three kids to keep track of.
The Coronavirus Pandemic is still in full swing though states are starting to open up a bit. We shall see if this is too soon or not in the coming weeks and months. I’m not a fan of groups of people anyway so that part of the social distancing hasn’t bothered me much. It has been annoying that I couldn’t take the kids to parks or anything when the weather warmed up. Trapped at home has not been kind to my littles. And my oldest, well, he’s had an ok go of this home school thing when they shut schools down in March. Beyond that, we’ve eaten more takeout from local places to help them stay afloat and tried to find creative things to do at home. Which has translated into yard work mainly. We’ve planted some flowers and set up a little fairy garden area that Emma loves. We’ve also take a plot at our village’s community garden. We’ll see how it goes. Not much to show right now except a plot of dirt.
The second bit of unpleasantness to get out of the way is the situation that began in Minneapolis with the death of George Floyd at the hands of police. His murder has ignited protests all over the country and even foreign police are condemning the actions of the officers in Minneapolis. I am appalled and angry that this shit keeps happening in America.
This is a horrible tragedy that has sparked riots and looting as things continue to escalate in cities other than Minneapolis. Even as close to me as Green Bay saw violence at a protest over the weekend. There are reports of rocks being thrown at police.
I’m not going to rehash all the events. I simply want to state that I support the calls against racism, transphobia and all the other despicable-isms. I’m about all lives. Because this issue is about Blacks, I’m in. If it’s Native Americans protesting a shitty pipeline on their land, I’m in. If it’s Pride rallies, I support you too. I can’t do live protests, my anxiety around large groups of people wouldn’t let me contemplate it. So I try to be supportive in other ways. Donations, signing petitions, voting appropriately and encouraging others to as well. So for those out there fighting this fight that needs to happen, I see you. This cishet white guy is sick of the racist bullshit as well.
Now onto more pleasant events for those who’ve stuck it out this long. My oldest is driving. He was able to get his learners permit when the DMV reopened to limited services.
It’s going quite well. I feared this day, teen drivers being potentially what they can be, but he’s doing what he should and is attentive on the road. I’m proud of him. Now if the usual teenage surliness would go away, everything would be great. It’s to be expected though. He’s 15 and trying to figure out himself and his place in the world. I try telling myself I wasn’t much better. Hell, I moved out of my parents house a couple months after I turned 17. I hope this pandemic is cleared up in time for football season. I don’t know if either of us could handle him not getting to play football this year. He needs the activity. Playing basketball in the yard by himself isn’t cutting it for his energy level.
Those who have read about my daughter know that she’s passionate about a great many things. She has her YouTube channel and a Facebook page to document the many things she gets into. This past weekend we were able to begin again the adventure of raising monarch butterflies. We found our first eggs. She was beyond excited when we found the first one. We ended up with ten from our excursion into a marshy area. All ten hatched within a few days and we’ve added a dozen more as well as some that we found already hatched into tiny caterpillars. Now we wait and see if this next batch all hatched, as well as continue to hunt for more. Keeping these beautiful creatures from all becoming bird food is a noble cause right?
How to begin to describe my youngest child. Perhaps this image will help you. Picture a Tornado wearing a Hurricane Jacket, plunked down into a Volcano, while riding a Tsunami during an Earthquake. That should give you a pretty clear picture of the Incarnation of Chaos this little one has become. He chatters away at you, mostly making sense, and understands more than he pretends to. Close to bed time the other night, my wife asked him, “What do you want for snack?” He looks right at me and plain as day said, “Ice Cream Cone Daddy.” Then went back to snuggling his mother while I made him a little cone with orange sherbet. He tests my patience almost as strongly as his older brother. He really riles his sister up. He will pick something up, a toy or doll or whatever. If she decides she wants it. She goes up to him and as she’s asking him for it or offering something different in trade; she snatched the item and leaves. Then you hear, “EMMA!” at the top of his little lungs. Sometimes I think he takes her favorite doll on purpose just to make her angry.
He’s also quite entertaining when it comes to big brother, “Teta.” (Emma started calling Mason, Teta, pronounced TeeTah, and it’s kinda stuck.) So Jackson has a poop diaper, we can all smell it. Mom asks, “Jackson, did you poop your pants?” “No.” He replies with this smirk on his face. Mom asks, “Who put the poop in your pants then?” “Teta.” He yells with a giggle and a look at his older brother. Teta was a good sport. He just said, “Jackson you weren’t supposed to tell anyone.” Which set everyone to laughing, even Emma.
All three of my kids challenge me to be a better person. To set a better example than what they may see around them in these times of crisis. I just hope I’m doing a good enough job.
My writing has been up and down the last few months. I’m still hitting my word count goals but I’m no where near ready to publish anything because I keep bouncing from project to project, unable to focus on much except knocking out Tales Of Ezrahn short stories. I think I almost have enough for a collection so maybe if I can knock that out I’ll be able to get back to Mike’s journey. Book three needs some rewrites then off to my editor. I hope he’s ready to deal with Colleen coming back into his life and a betrayal from The Council.
Until next time, my Gentle Readers. Keep on keeping on.