One great thing about being a parent is the chance to be a witness to a child’s mental development. The physical part’s pretty cool, too, but I’m hoping my fat gene doesn’t ever kick in for them. That would just be another thing to blame on me when my kids’ psyches are raked through the coals during therapy in young adulthood. For the record, my fat genes didn’t show their puffy face until I was about twenty-two; it’s amazing what a positive effect drinking and not exercising can have on one’s life.
As I was saying about mental development, my daughter’s skills and abilities have grown astronomically this year. I’d like to give credit to her teachers at preschool for these amazing advancements, but I won’t, because it’s probably just a coincidence that this has happened since she’s gone there. I know that I’m the catalyst that triggered her brilliance to come to the forefront. I can’t back this statement up with facts, but take my word, I just know it to be true. How could it not be?
With my son’s advancement, I think it’s my wife’s doing, because I have to blame someone. I don’t mean to infer that he’s not doing well, because he is… in his own way. This week he loves letters, not the paper kind with threats of retribution on them that arrive in envelopes once a week; the kind that make up those futile words. Actually, he loves a letter: W. I don’t know why, but his whole world’s about “W”. “W” this, “W” that. I’m sick of the freaking thing. It’s not even in his name, first, last, or middle. I tried getting him to appreciate all the letters by subjecting him to my singing the alphabet song in F-flat, but that proved to be futile. He tunefully sang back at me, “ABW KLW RWS WOP XYZ W”. What’s a parent to do?
The bright side of this is that he’s progressed, because last week his favorite letter was 3.
Copyright Linus Mann 2008
Wow, it seems like yesterday that I last posted, that or 106 yesterdays. Well, I’m back and I’m ready to start filling your heads with thoughtful anecdotes about my family and my life in general. Okay, I’m back and I’m ready to spout my views, spill my guts and make you weep. Okay, okay, here’s the truth: I’m back and I’m going to write about anything that I find interesting whether it bores you to tears, tickles your fancy, or just makes you want to cry or laugh or shake your head or pull your hair…
Since I’ve been away for a while, I’ll try to catch you up on my life. This is your last chance to look away before I start droning on, so don’t say I didn’t warn you if you pass out or fall in love (with my writing).
The kids have both changed dramatically since my last post. My daughter has become an emotional roller coaster that knows exactly what she wants out of life and is not afraid to go out and take it, whether it’s hers or someone else’s. This can be a little troublesome if the item in question is expensive or hard to conceal, but assertiveness is very important in today’s child-eat-child world, so I can deal with it.
My son’s goals are very similar to his big sister’s. In fact, he wants exactly what she wants out of life, but only while she possesses it. This is a bit more of a hassle for me than my daughter’s issues because I care if someone takes her stuff, but I’m learning how to work with my daughter to appease the boy. We throw out some red herrings and the boy is as happy as Heather Mills is this week, and like the former Mrs. McCartney, it keeps him occupied for a little while until there’s something else to be coveted. Luckily for us that just might be a plastic frog or a drumstick, as opposed to song royalties or castles.
As for my beautiful wife, she’s just as wonderful as before and still tolerates me, usually. She’s a great mother and hardly scolds me about my lousy parenting skills unless they are life threatening, which isn’t very often, you know, once, maybe twice a week.
My dog’s just as loyal as always and still holds a higher standing in the house than me, but I can deal with that. Well, I have to deal with it because what’s the alternative, dog stew? I’m kidding; I prefer chops. Does anyone have any golden retriever recipes? I’m kidding again; I really do love my dog as much as the rest of my family. Okay, not as much as the rest of the family, but almost as much. Kind of how the Baldwin’s feel about Stephen, but a little more.
As for me, I put my writing on hiatus to pursue an important goal: becoming a mime. I was quite successful, actually too successful; I was stuck in that freaking imaginary box and couldn’t get out for days. This kind of stripped me of my passion to be the next Marcel Marceau, but I did lose ten pounds.
The last paragraph was total B.S., but I do plan on making this site a regular thing again. Check back sooner than 106 days (early July), because I might get on a roll, or at least a tailspin. Huh?
copyright Linus Mann 2008