Backlog

The face says it all: Olivia doesn’t have regular BMs, she has BUMs – bowel un-movements. We’ve tried everything short of suppositories to help move things along. The porcelain gods must have been smiling on us though because we recently stumbled upon the food item that Olivia’s holding up below. Sunsweet offers individually wrapped prunes, snacks that our picky daughter affectionately calls “candy prunes.” We call them “dehydrated miracles.”

Family Leaves Act

G invited Olivia to assist her with an annual rite of fall – the raking of leaves into piles worthy of jumping into and collecting.

High Purse Pace

Olivia’s been cranking out purses at a rate that would make her competitive for Chinese factory jobs. And she knows that her daddy is secure enough in his manhood that he’d not think twice about toting around his keys and wallet in a personalized pink purse.

Town Criers

I lived in Japan when I was young. I tried my best to fit in – I went to public school, spoke the language, participated in festivals, ate the food – but being the child of a Japanese dad and a white American mom meant that I’d always be looking in not from a position that was the outside or the inside but rather a space between them.

Branded a gaijin – Japanese for outsider – I was fodder for the school and neighborhood bullies. Unpleasant encounters often reduced me to tears, but the waterworks were not only reserved for such instances. You see, unlike my adversaries, my tears were not discriminatory. I cried over skinned knees, spilled milk, school speeches, missed television programs, you name it. The crying episodes became so frequent and problematic that my fiscally conservative father opened up the coffers in a game attempt to dewimpify his firstborn son. We worked out a deal: in exchange for a tear-free week, I’d receive a handheld electronic game.

The above is the very game (bless this thing we call the internet and its explorer Google) – though not the same unit – I “earned” for my efforts. Full disclosure: A quarter century later, I think enough time has passed to say this – Dad, I actually cried once that week, but it was because some kids pointed to a pile of rocks and told me that’s where I lived. Who wouldn’t cry about that? But know that I drew strength from the ninja game you bought me and that I haven’t cried since 1982.

Okay, that’s not true. I’m still the same fragile soul I was back then. I realize now that my acutely emotional nature has more to do with my being the product of two hypersensitive parents than with anything else. This truism serves as a good reminder when my equally sensitive wife and I wonder why our daughter often meets adversity with sorrowful cries.

After all, she is our own flesh and blood and tears.

Sock Lunch

Q: Why did the golfer bring an extra pair of socks with her to lunch at Chipotle?
A: Just in case she got a hole in one.

Trivial Pursuit of Non-Trivial Matters

Actual questions that have been asked recently by our inquisitive daughter:

Question #1: What’s the name of the black person who teaches at my school?
Answer: Did you just say black person??
[Note #1: We’re not sure how or from whom Olivia learned about racial categories. Things should get even more interesting when she starts questioning her own racial makeup, which happens to be a tri-color amalgam.]
[Note #2: For those of you playing along at home, the actual answer is Maria.]

Question #2: Where do squirrels live?
Answer (as provided by questioner): In nests called dreys

Question #3: What’s God?
Answer: Go ask your mother.

Sweetening the Potty

It was one of those moments that occurred while our attention and gaze were momentary diverted: Beni had been straightening up our daughter’s room and I’d been putting away some clothes, which evidently gave Olivia more than enough time to prospect for the chocolate chips on top of the toilet.

Missing Accomplished

My family accompanied me to the airport tonight to bid me farewell. I was heading out on a business trip, one that would take me away from them for three days. The sendoff was going smoothly until I got up to the security gate. As I turned to my darling duo for some final hugs and kisses, Olivia became overwhelmed by emotions, namely the sadness variety. Tears of heartache were met with sobs of anguish. She clutched my neck like a professional wrestler, constantly adjusting her grip to get a better hold. I was surprised by her reaction because our previous goodbyes had been so pedestrian.

I eventually made it through security, but there’s something about a child lamenting your impending absence that keeps taut your pulled heartstrings for a long time. I carried those feelings with me from takeoff to landing, and apparently I wasn’t the only one. Beni told me that hours after they’d left the airport, Olivia randomly turned to her and said, “I’m still missing Daddy.”

Emilie’s Post

According to a recent entry on Emilie’s fabulous blog about her son Henry and their family’s adventures, November is National Blog Posting Month. We are to post entries to our blogs every day for the month, and should we meet that challenge, stand to positively alter the course of human history (or something along those lines). Godspeed, bloggers!

Happy as a Clam

Beni received the following cookied fortune tonight after our dinner at a Thai restaurant.

Come to think of it, this “mistake” can be easily explained: As inferred from the idiom, clams are happy beings. The unfortunate fortune scribe, unfamiliar with such language conventions, believed “clam” to be synonymous with “happy.” Although pad thai has been crowned the national dish of Thailand, the happiness and impartiality combo remains the dietary staple of the Thai workplace.

Fall Guise

Olivia holds up her latest masterpiece outside her preschool.

Hunting Season

The hunt for red October leaves continues into the new month. In recent days, Olivia and Beni have scoured our neighborhood for nature’s treasures. They’ve literally bagged some big game – a brown paper bag has served as keeper of the bounty.

We employed the same technique this evening while trekking the paved trail close to our house, but this time we also brought with us a list of scavenge-able items. As you can see, Olivia successfully checked off all the items on the list, including the ambiguous and ever so elusive “surprise.”