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September 21, 2006
Annie and Silly Putty
It's been quite an evening with Dadder.
Amy's still fighting bronchitis, so after Quinn came back from the pulmonologist following up on her pneumonia, it was only 2:30 and Amy was about to pass out. Amy put on Annie for Quinn and went up to bed.
Now, I don't think we've discussed quite how ravenous the appetite for Annie is in this house, but trust us: It is large. Quinn knows it all, knows many songs, etc etc. She used to not be able to watch any scene with Miss Hannigan, because Quinn's #1 fear is of anyone being mean. Now it's OK, because she knows "She's silly mean!"
Typically what we'll do is sometimes before bed, she'll get to watch the first half hour, and then skip to the big ending where ....
**** SPOILER ALERT!!! ***
.... Annie gets to live with Daddy Warbucks and they all live happily ever after. The last two times we've done this, though, she has cried. "I want anovver Annie movie about where she lives in the big house!" She is so like her mom at being able to cry at both sad and happy endings.
So today, at about 4:10 when Annie got over, after Quinn had even sat through the scary part on the bridge, Quinn was sobbing. Sobbing. I tried to talk to her and cheer her up, but she was having none of it. I sang silly lyrics to Backyardigans songs, but she scolded me: "Dad, don't be SIL-ly when I'm SAD!" So I just went back to work in my green chair, and let her be sad. Again, just like how I do when her mom is sad and doesn't want to be cheered up.
After a bit, she came over by my chair, plopped on the floor, and started coloring in a Barbie coloring book with markers. After a minute I remembered that we had a new rule in the house where we only write at a table, because of the couple of colorful spots on the carpet. :-(
"Quinn, please sit at a table. Or your little desk over there." "Dad, can you bring it over here?" So I went and picked up her little schoolhouse-style desk and put it over by the couch, about 6 feet from my green work chair. "No, I want it by your chair." So I brought it over right next to my chair, and she sat there and colored, happy and content. It made me so happy to be a dad.
...
Later, we got ready to go have dinner at Steak & Shake, since I really wanted to get out of the house. I went to go into the garage, walking towards the door near the bathroom. "Dad! Don't go into the bathroom!"
I went in, but didn't see (or smell) anything obviously wrong. She followed close behind. "Quinn, what's wrong?" She answered in a quiet voice, "I don't want you to look. I made a mistake."
I looked around, but didn't see anything. No water on the floor. Nothing on the floor of note. Then I saw a towel on the sink, covering a lumpy object. I reached to pick up the towel and she implored, "I don't want you to look!"
I found the remote control for the TiVo.
I asked "Quinn, what happened?" "I put Silly Putty on it." It all fell together. She had showed me impressions in the Silly Putty from various objects earlier in the day. Apparently she'd tried to get an impression of the buttons on the remote, and Silly Putty didn't peel off the soft textured buttons. Then I realized that it was wet.
"Sweetie, why is it wet?"
"I tried to wash it off. I washed it in the sink."
I was annoyed that she hid it from me, and so very proud of her industriousness. But I told her "Sweetie, I know you made a mistake, and that's OK. If you make a mistake, I want you to tell me, or tell mom. I'm not mad. I love you, and we can clean it later. Now, let's go to Steak & Shake and have some cheese fries."
Oh yes, she does love to dip fries in cheese now. So many things the kid loves.
Posted by Andy at 12:34 AM | Comments (3)
September 17, 2006
Back to school
I suppose I'm grateful for Quinn's ability to keep herself occupied for long periods of time. She can bounce from area to area of the house, always finding things to work on wherever she lands.
However, the cleanup is another story.
She isn't a fan of returning things when she's done using them, which I don't understand since it's so drilled into her head at school. She'll color for 1/2 hour, then wander away leaving her paper and markers set out on the coffee table. It drives me NUTTY.
Add that to the fact that she likes to work with single objects from multiple sets of play items. It is not unusual to find one of everything grouped together nicely--but abandoned. For example:
I mean, do you know how many different sets she's callously broken up here?? Pieces from toys that go UPSTAIRS, from toys that go DOWNSTAIRS, from toys that should be put away because they're from the Toddler Bin...oh my stars, it gives me the vapors just looking at this picture.
She's also, as I have mentioned before, a fan of The Cute:
Oh, those precious bears! Encircled gently by a lovely necklace.
Touch one bear, move it 1/2 inch from where she placed it (in the middle of the room)...and she will BITE YOUR HEAD OFF. And then? Cry.
Back in November, I came upon this scene in her bedroom...she had her tape player blasting, and was calmly arranging everything from her bookshelf into a huge grid.
Upon closer inspection, I noticed that she left NOTHING out of the grid, not even non-book items such as chapstick or printed instructions on how to work her new watch.
Which brings us to the great joy that all of us here feel...from the people stumbling over complex bear scenarios, to people so in need of stimulation that they've plumbed the rarely-seen bottom of the toybox for materials...that school has resumed.
Here's Quinn on the first day, with Target lurking in the background--an ever-present, benevolent force.
PRETTIEST! OF ALL BUNNIES!
With her Ariel backpack and Princesses lunch box...yeah, I did it. I sold out. I spent two years buying her NON-character backpacks, clothing, accessories, anything...but when she saw this backpack, her eyes lit up and she stroked it fondly and didn't even ASK for it. I had to do it. I know. I KNOW.
Quinn and Andy heading into school. Quinn wasn't nervous at all, since she's in the same classroom (3-6 year olds) as last year with the same teacher.
With her beloved Ms. Yolanda...
As soon as she got there, she got right down to work...Andy and I were mere annoyances, so we took off, leaving her to her favorite place on earth.
Posted by Amy at 11:59 PM | Comments (8)
September 9, 2006
Dads (from parsley.org)
I think that last night's "Nanny 911" was the worst episode I've seen so far. Not that the kids were particularly bad, because they weren't. But the dad is the biggest, most gigantic asshat I've ever seen in my life. The short story is that he works from sun-up to sun-down, and refuses to help out around the house in the few hours he's at home. He has no idea how to play with them, and several times he was shown just walking away from them to talk on his cell phone, leaving them confused and alone. And when his wife asked for a five-minute break at the end of the day, he refused to give it to her. Because he didn't want to be alone with his kids. And when called on his behavior by the Nanny and by his wife (although barely, she was the biggest doormat I've ever seen) he said, "Well, I told you I was selfish. I'm not going to change."
OK, there, buttnut. "I'm not going to change" is NOT AN OPTION. Just because you think you're doing the best you can, DOESN'T MEAN THAT YOU DON'T HAVE TO TRY TO DO BETTER. Oh my God, I have never been so infuriated by a person on TV as I was by this stupid, ignorant excuse for a man.
I am proud of how Andy and I deal with Quinn. I think we're patient, and kind, and sensitive to her personality. I also think we're firm when needed, and reliable, and consistent. We say we're sorry when we're wrong, and we ask her to do the same. We pay her a lot of attention, but encourage her independence. We both have the exact same philosophies for raising her, so she is never going to be able to play us against one another.
It sounds cocky, but I think we're doing a really good job with her.
I didn't know how Andy would be as a father. I never thought about it too much. He's so incredible as a husband, though, that I don't think I worried too much. I appreciate how great he is with Quinn every day, and I tell him that.
Andy is absolutely as interested in every single detail of her day as I am, and he knows all of her friends, her teachers, and her interests, as varied from day to day as they are. He's been to her school as much as I have, he makes a point to talk to the parents of the other kids in her room, and he shows up at all of her events, happily, proudly.
They go on little excursions without me, and they have their shared secrets and rituals that I'm not a part of. When we say goodnight to her, he lingers in her bedroom longer than I do, talking about the day's Happy Things and listening to her music and just laughing and talking.
He is an amazing father to Quinn. She is lucky, and if she doesn't know it now, she will someday.
Andy's also a wonderful father to Quinn in that he senses when I need to be away from her. As great and as helpful as Andy is, I am her primary caregiver, and I keep track of her and feed her and dress her and keep her occupied for the better part of each day. So after dinner, he may see that I look a little frazzled and he'll take her to Home Depot or the library. Or he might announce on a Friday night that "tomorrow is going to be a Daddy and Quinny day!" and there is much cheering from both of us. Today, for example, I am still getting over the world's longest-lasting upper respiratory infection, so Andy took Quinn on his run to the Apple store with his friend Pete.
And he never resents me for it. He makes me feel good about taking time for myself. He wants me to work if that makes me happy (which it does, I miss my school), he wants me to freelance if that makes me happy, he wants me to go back to school if that makes me happy. He'll pick up the slack. He'll do whatever he can. He's fine.
He's just the best.
(And the implications of his behavior are, yes, far-reaching.)
So when I see this ASSHAT on "Nanny 911" who doesn't know his children, who doesn't see how tired and beaten-down his wife is, and who shrugs his shoulders when he hears that his family is falling apart, it makes me pissed. When Quinn's teacher tells me that she doesn't even know some of the dads of the kids in her classroom, that makes me angry.
But, I have to tell myself, people are good parents in different ways. Just because I like what Andy is doing for Quinn, it doesn't mean that dads who do less are necessarily worse. Maybe the dads who have never shown up at their kids' schools are extemely attentive at home. Maybe the dads who make their kids miss their swim lesson or who won't take them to a sports class because they refuse to take their kids out on their own are really involved in other ways. And it's OK. It really is. What works for one person doesn't necessarily work for the next, and I accept that. Or, I'm working on accepting it. I don't need to get so angry at TV dads or other dads who have nothing to do with my family.
But. I am thankful every day that Andy is Quinn's dadder. And I think Quinn is, too.
Posted by Amy at 1:37 PM | Comments (2)
September 1, 2006
TB clean
Both Amy and Quinn had negative TB tests. I took Quinn to the doc today and the doc said all was fine.
When I reminded Dr. Mirza, per Amy's suggestion, that Quinn has had pneumonia 3 times so far, she referred us to another hospital with a pediatric pulmonologist to do some other tests to make sure it's nothing serious.
Posted by Andy at 1:53 PM | Comments (2)