The Monkey Spoon: A Tale of Why Scott Is Such a Great Dad

Once upon a time, there was a little boy named Luca who, like his parents, liked to have things just so. This particular summer, he went to day camp at a place called Touch of Nature. He hiked and canoed and made things like bird feeders & bug jars. Every day he took his lunch of pasta or pizza, Diego yogurt, mango fruit leather and carrots (and sometimes celery he dipped in olive oil . . . odd, I know). He ate his yogurt with a very special plastic spoon. It was brown and the handle was in the shape of a monkey. One day, Luca was in a hurry to move on to the activity after lunch. In his haste, he left his special spoon behind and no one could find it.

The next morning, Luca cried to his mother about losing his special monkey spoon. "I can't find it! I will never get it back!" he sobbed. "I don't want that green plastic snake spoon!" he yelled. "I want the monkey spoon." Well, Luca's mother does not do morning all that well. She told him through clenched teeth to forget it. It was just a plastic spoon. Couldn't he ask the counselors at camp to look for it again? Until then he would have to use the snake or the whale spoon. This was no good for Luca-who-liked-everything-to-be-the-same. He cried real tears as he brushed his teeth and got dressed. His mother who does not do morning well tried to convince him to get over it again and again. It is a plastic spoon for god's sake.

In walked his father who remains calm and empathetic and does morning much better than his mother. His mother looked at his father and said, "I'm having a hard time being sympathetic. It's a plastic spoon." Luca continued to cry and protest. His father knelt down on the floor in front of the unhappy boy and said, "I'm sorry you lost your spoon. It's okay to be sad. You loved your brown monkey spoon. You miss it." Luca stopped crying and nodded his head. His father explained that when he was a boy he had a favorite dump truck that he took to the pool with him. And, one day he left the dump truck at the pool. Luca asked, "Did you get it back?" And the father who remains calm and empathetic and does morning much better than the mother said, "No. No one found it. But, you know what? I had other toys. I missed the dump truck. I was sad, but I felt better after a while." By this time the boy wasn't crying any more.

And, by this time the grouchy mother had torn apart the cabinets and found another brown plastic monkey spoon and everyone lived happily ever after thanks to the great father (and grouchy yet determined mother).

The end.

Happy Father's Day to one awesome Dad!

If My Kids Were Charts . . .

. . . this is what they would look like. I realize that Alia and Luca are going to be different. Of course, they are. But, we are constantly amazed at exactly how different they are. Up until a few months ago, Luca was our only point of reference as far as children are concerned . . . nice, slow, methodical, even-keeled Luca. The boy who wakes up with a smile and goes to bed with a bigger smile. The boy who I could park on a nice soft quilt to play for, oh an hour or more, while I emptied out the dishwasher, paid a few bills and wrote a lecture. He is also the boy who at almost 6 has no interest in riding a bike or playing baseball or walking down the street unless begged.

Then we have our little brown-eyed, silky-haired whirling dervish. Alia's whole being pulsates with energy. Her main form of communication these days is screeching . . . brain-emptying screeching like I haven't heard . . . ever. She'll do it at Steak and Shake, the grocery store, the dinner table - any time the mood strikes her and for no discernible reason. And, once she gets going it takes her a while to stop. She sits on her soft little quilt for all of 2 seconds. She is soon rifling through every drawer and cabinet she can open - pulling out stray pairs of scissors, full containers of fish food with lids ajar, and sequins that she sticks in her mouth by the dozens. Alia will look at me with joy and glee one second then scrunch up her face in a fit of anger the next. The other night, Luca didn't want her to shred one of his drawings she had gotten a hold of. I took it away and she crawled her little 15 month-old butt over to Luca sitting on the couch and HIT him.

Scott and I regularly exchange looks of pure joy and utter fear over our sweet little, moxie-filled Alia.

Summer is in full swing around here. Luca completed kindergarten this past Friday. He has done an amazing job this year. We celebrated with a "do-whatever-you-want" day. It mostly entailed early snacks and TV and a little Dairy Queen for dessert. He is already in camp this week. I think it will be a lot harder to keep him entertained at home now that he has been in kindergarten all day. I want to spend some lazy summer days with him, but I also want to keep that mind of his occupied. I hope we can strike a balance this summer.

As most of you know, the life of a baby/toddler changes very little. I am still trying to figure out why life seems so crazy with such a predictable routine. Oh, yeah . . . see above. Alia is really thriving. At her 15 month check-up, we found out that she grew 3 inches in 3 months. She is 31 1/2" tall & really close to 23 lbs. She started walking last month. Crawling is still quicker and more convenient for her, but she chooses to walk more & more. She makes lots of noises . . . some words which seem to come and go. She really wants to be in on conversations and in close proximity to whoever happens to be around however, she is still generally guarded in new situations and around lots of people.

Alia continues to sleep and eat really well. She definitely does have preferences for certain foods on certain days . . . like one day she will inhale zucchini pasta and the next she will yell for something else. She is a huge fan of any kind of tropical fruit . . . pineapple, mangoes, bananas . . . which makes me smile because Kazakhstan could not be any less tropical.
Her latest project is growing all 8 of her back teeth at once! I guess once they are all in, we will be done for a while . . . thankfully.

Outside of the occasional physical violence, Luca and Alia get along really well. My heart really couldn't feel any fuller when I come across them playing on the floor of Luca's room. Alia's face lights up when Luca comes home from school and Luca is a kind and gentle big brother. I really could not ask for anything more.

A few random photos that I am including just because I like them.

A moment of repose

Luca has been taking LOTS of really interesting photos.

A snippet of Easter

Luca after our big storm (topic for another post)

This weekend Alia started grabbing a book and climbing into the chair and rocking. She also slides down the slide at the park on her own - at FIFTEEN months.

I am going to try to make a little time each week to read blogs and update our own. So, if you are still out there, I am making a commitment to this again! I appreciate all the reminders to update from Susan, Kim, Jen M. and Eileen.

We're back!