You Told that Lady Sam was Potty Trained

In a parenting first for me, Francis called me out on a lie I told someone else. This weekend, we went to IKEA. Our plan was to drop the kids, including Sam, off at the playland. I probably could have told you that the First Rule of Småland is that children must be potty trained. Two-and-a-half year old Sam can actually pass for potty trained, except when he has soiled himself. Helping the ruse, if you ever ask him if he just pooped his pants, he always responds with an emphatic, "No!" Our plan was to put him in there with a pull-up on "just in case."

As we approached, an IKEA employee was putting out a sign that said, "Småland Will Not Accept More Children For 35 minutes." Viewing an hour of free childcare by complete strangers as worth the wait, I sat with Francis, George, and Sam while Sally started shopping. The kids and I waited, playing twenty questions to pass the time. Francis was stumping me by picking kids in her school that I'd never met. Finally, after about forty five minutes, our time came.

Wait. Have that one stand on the green feet over there. He's potty trained?

Well, yeah.

He's not wearing a diaper?

He's got a pull-up on. You know, just in case.

It's right here on the sheet you just signed. No diapers OR pull-ups. No exceptions.

OK, sorry Sam. Francis, George: I'll see you in an hour.

Sam had been watching the fun through the giant window as we waited. He'd pointed out everything he wanted to play with. When he was refused entry, he wailed. It was sad and I felt guilty for leading him on this fool's errand. I felt guiltier later that night, when Francis said: "you told that lady Sam was potty trained."

I looked at Francis and said, "that didn't work out very well, did it?"

Francis laughed, and I hoped -- not for the first time -- that kids could learn from their dad being a dolt.

-Matt

Already Gone

Already Gone from gulde on Vimeo.

Francis and Matt rarely collaborate musically. When he asks her to sing the Notre Dame Victory March, for example, she sneers and says "Go TCU." If we even look in the rear-view mirror when we hear her singing in the car, she buries her face in her chest. So I was very lucky to get this video of her playing the guitar with her daddy.

Three things I love about this video: (1) george banging his cars in passive-aggressive protest (2) uninterested dog on couch, and (3) Sam teetering on the chair across the room.

Enchilada Night

Just in case you think it's all sicky frowns and broken collarbones around here, I present ENCHILADA NIGHT WITH FRANCIS.  Francis is wearing the apron I bought Sally at Harrod's in London back in November 2001.  Remember?  That was the trip when Sally thought I was going to propose and I wasn't planning on it.  Boy, that was a fun trip.

Fatherhood

Francis has had a difficult few days. Her last solid meal was on Christmas day (when she ate an entire steak at Hunk and Jerry’s house in Clarendon). She’s had a fever for most or all of the intervening time. The Urgent Care center told us that she had bilateral pneumonia, strep, and ear infection, and possibly a UTI. After an evening with a kind ER doc, it turns out that some of those diagnoses may have been exaggerated, but I want to talk about Francis’s nose right now. She was blocked up and unable to breathe comfortably last night. She couldn’t sleep, and she hasn’t developed an effective nose blowing technique. Sally tried to use the suction bulb, but it didn’t reach the problem.

If you have a queasy stomach, you should stop reading now.

Other people might have run a steamy tub to try to loosen it up. More medication was also an option. We eschewed these modern solutions and reached deeply into our frontier traditions. I sucked Francis’s nose clean with my mouth, and then spit the offending snot out. No one enjoyed it, but it helped.

The device pictured above is made by a Swedish company called Nosefrida. I am ordering one today.

Split Vote

Split Vote
Originally uploaded by ..Sally..

We are a house divided. Francis supports John McCain, while George prefers Barack Obama. It's somewhat fitting, as I've noticed that Francis endorses a "trickle down" policy as to toys in our house, whereas George is a vocal advocate for change.

My mom was working the polling place at her local elementary school, so we brought her donuts when we voted. That's an issue that unites our household. We may disagree on who should run this country, but we can all agree on the consumption of donuts.

UPDATE:

The headmaster at Francis's school just emailed the election results from her school. His email describes an election in which the 3rd - 8th graders elected McCain by a landslide:

It has been an exciting morning here at St. Andrew's with the students (3-8) casting their vote for President. We have had two television stations (channels 4 and 7) here to tape and interview the students. The results are as follows:

McCain 120
Obama 40

Rainbow Fish and Pirate

IMG_8127.jpg
Originally uploaded by ..Sally..

After flirting with the idea of being a good witch for Halloween, Francis decided to portray a rainbow fish. In a single afternoon's work---and fighting a malfunctioning sewing machine---Sally created this amazing costume. As with Francis's second-birthday otter cake, her 2007 tightrope-walker costume, and countless other great-mom moments, Sally pulled this off in the style to which we are accustomed. There has never been a prettier, more stylish rainbow fish --- or a luckier kid.

George was much more steadfast in his costume choice. For months, he's been telling us that he would be a pirate. He says it with a growl, along with a signature "harr matey." I had originally planned a more conservative mustache, but during application, George wiped it across his cheek to his ear. I think it made him look like Salvador Dali.

Visit to Notre Dame

I've read them all.
Originally uploaded by ..Sally..

There's a sense of "one last time before we go" that permeates our days lately. Yesterday, that spirit took us over to Notre Dame for the day. We had a good lunch, visit to the bookstore and a nice long stroll through campus. Francis lit a candle at the Grotto for her own special intention. Click on the photo to see the full set of pictures.

Climbing George

Sally just sent me this photo of George climbing at Barrie Park, a few blocks from our house. Funny story about George from this morning: Sally just bought him some Spiderman underwear, and he was insisting to wear it. George is nowhere near toilet-trained, so I was reluctant to put the underpants in harm's way. Sally walked by George's room a few minutes later and noticed that he had crawled up on top of his changing table, gotten the underwear, put two pair on his legs, and was wearing another pair with both arms through the leg holes.

Beak to Beak

Beak to Beak
Originally uploaded by ..Sally..

During our open house today, we went down to Hyde Park for some quality time with our old next door neighbors and good friends Ben and Maureen. They live a couple blocks from the Museum of Science and Industry, so we walked over there and took advantage of their membership.

Here are George and a newly hatched chick sizing each other up. Click the picture for a small album of our museum trip.

Grocery list: carrots and milk

A new sheriff's in town

Note: underpants holster

Happy Birthday Francis!

Today, Francis turns 4. She awoke this morning to find streamers, balloons, and birthday banner in her bedroom -- constructed by Sally as Francis slept. She's in for a big surprise tonight. We're going to Kiddieland.

The girl is really growing up. For example, from the backseat a few days ago, she said:

"F you, guys."

Sally and I looked at each other, startled. We had been noticing that Francis picks up saucy language at school, but so far it's been of the "nanny nanny boo boo" variety. Hearing an actual F-bomb, even an implied/truncated one, from our 3.95 year old was very troubling.

What did you say, Francis?

"'F,' you guys," she said, as she pointed to the capital "F" in the book she was reading.

Oh. I see.

Milk makes you jump

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Originally uploaded by ..Sally..

Yesterday, the family packed up and drove down to Fair Oaks Dairy Farm in Indiana. Fair Oaks is a working dairy farm that is open (and tailored) to visitors. We saw the milking facility where more than 60 cows are milked simultaneously on a giant carousel. We saw the mountains of Total Mixed Ration that feed the thousands of cows at the farm. Most memorably, we all sat spellbound for half an hour as cow number 49885 gave birth to a calf.

"Francis, are you seeing this?" I would ask.

"Yes, I see it, Daddy. Why is that baby cow so wet?"

"All babies are wet when they're born. You were wet."

"Really?"

"And then your mommy licked you clean just like that cow is doing."

Francis laughed, but most other people just looked away nervously.

Pictured here is the inflatable trampoline that gives the cow-birth a run for its money in the most-memorable race. Not pictured: tractor races, climbing wall, and delicious grilled cheese sandwiches.

Good Morning, Daddy

Sally had a gig shooting some lawyers in Milwaukee this morning, and she left just before the kids woke up. Not long after she closed the door, and while I was still in bed, Francis came into my room to see if I was awake. You know, this is one of those iconic moments of parenthood: angelic child padding into the parents' bedroom to start the day. If I had a picture of being a daddy, it was something like this.

Francis was carrying her blanket in one hand, and she held her other hand in front of her as she walked up to me. I didn't have my glasses on, so her fingers were two inches from my face before I noticed her finger had something on it. It's not uncommon for Francis to show me the most recent thing that she's fished out of her nose, so that's what I expected. This was something different, though.

"What did you get into?" I asked as I tested the substance between my fingers. The answer was a gleeful whisper, like she was playing a joke: "it's poo poo, daddy." It was no joke.

Francis self portrait

Francis self portrait
Originally uploaded by ..Sally..

Francis took this picture of herself the other day. She really enjoys the feature on my phone that lets you draw on existing pictures. Often, when we get in the car, she will say, "Daddy, I want to draw on a picture," so I get her to the right menu, and hand her the phone.

Little did I know she was also snapping pictures the whole time. I discovered them when my phone told me it was full. I'll upload more of her pictures soon, but I wanted to share this great self-portrait immediately.

Child Logic

My mom is visiting this week. Yesterday, Sally left Francis and George with their Grammie while she ran some errands. Francis burst into tears after Sally departed, and my mom tried several things to calm her. Activities didn't work, neither did a "crying towel." That's when she pulled this ingenius bit of child logic:

Francis: I [sob] want [sob] my [sob] mommy [sob] [sob]

Grammie: I'm not sure when she's going to be back, and if you cry the whole time, you'll just have a sore throat when she gets back.

Francis: [sob]

Grammie: So why don't you stop crying for now, and we'll listen for your mommy? That way, you can start crying again when she's coming back in and you won't have a sore throat.

Francis: [nodding] [sobbing stops]

I asked my mom if she'd ever used that one before, and she said it just came to her. Must be the instincts of a retired second grade teacher.

Open For Business

Chicago Bake Sale: brownies and cookies
Originally uploaded by ..Sally..

Feel free to disagree, but I think the best thing about this photo is the reassuring hand that Francis has placed on George's shoulder. It's as though she's reached that point in her sales pitch where it helps to make some personal connection with the buyer. Can't you just hear her saying, "I feed these cookies and brownies to my own brother; would I give anything but the best to my own flesh and blood?" Well, that's one interpretation of the image. She could also be saying, "For another fifty cents, I'll throw in the boy." Most likely, she's just trying to keep his paws out of the cash register.

The Theory and Practice of Parenting

We have a 3.75-year old who sometimes makes unreasonable demands. It seems normal for a kid to test the limits of her control over her environment, including her parents. Sally and I have been working on a model of parenting that responds to and circumvents these demands by offering choices instead of ultimata. I'm not very good at this yet, and my alternatives often include the ultimatum as one of the choices. For example:

Francis: I don't want to take a bath.

Daddy: But it's time to take a bath. George is taking a bath.

Francis: Well, I don't want to take a bath. I'm not dirty.

Daddy: You are dirty; it's been three days since your last bath.

Francis: I'm not dirty.

Daddy: OK, you have a choice: you can take a bath and have a book and a song before bed, or you can skip your bath and get no book and no song.

Francis: (writhing on the floor) But I don't want to take a bath.


She took her bath eventually, but I think the idea is to offer choices that make the kid feel empowered before a confrontation even happens (e.g., "Hey Francis, do you want use the white washcloth or the blue washcloth today?").

Here's a blog in which an Australian daddy/economist applies the theories of his day job to the raising of his kids. In one of his ruminations on discipline, he notes that the perceived threat of punishment is often more important than the punishment itself:

I also know that their imagination is much more active than my own. So when I am not getting compliance with a request or order -- such as getting ready for bathtime -- I stand there and close my eyes and saw "I am thinking up a suitable punishment and if, when I open my eyes, you haven't done x, I will tell you it." Well, a flurry of activity always ensues.

That's what I want: some non-violent thing that I can do that always incites a "flurry of activity" from my children.

Sweet Francis

mygirl.
Originally uploaded by ..Sally..

I took a walk with Francis, a couple of days ago and for the first time she was such a ridiculous ham! Typically, she sees my camera and turns the other way. This time... it was different. I may have created a... monster. A really adorable monster.

Don't go to work...

Don't go to work daddy
Originally uploaded by ..Sally..

This was the scene yesterday morning as Matt was trying to head out the door. Francis and Georgie love their daddy.

Soon it will be warm again (or if it isn't I'm going to scratch my eyes out) and they'll be running out in their pj's to wave "bye-bye" to him as he disappears down the sidewalk in the morning.