Daddy? Daddy? Daddy!

Carey continues to learn how to create a children's book with Duncan Ewald and the South Orange Maplewood Adult School on Tuesdays from 7:30-9:30 p.m., so I get to play Mr. Mom, something I've done much less of with Lincoln than Greta. Chalk it up to odd work hours and Carey being so incredibly good at it now that she's staying at home. Anyway, Lincoln was bathing when I got home, so Carey finished that up and kissed the kids goodnight. We played hide-under-the-covers for a bit, then I convinced Greta to hit the potty and brush her teeth. She opts out about twice a week these days to "skip bath," as she puts it. Personal hygiene out of the way, I attempted to put Lincoln down first. We read a couple books and he pointed to the crib and said, "Bed." I laid him in and he happily murmured to himself, index and pointer fingers of his right-hand jammed in his mouth (his typical "I"m tired" signal since the day he was born).

So on to Greta. We read Too Many Toys and Where Do You Sleep, Little One? then swap butterfly kisses. (She's getting very good at them... tickled my nose and ear last night).

7:49 p.m. and I'm downstairs wondering what's on TiVo. At about 8, Lincoln stands bolt upright in his crib and says, "Daddy?" Just one word, but what I hear is: "Did Daddy just try to tuck me in? Where the hell's Mommy?" I run upstairs, much faster than safe, and scoop him out of the crib. "Book," he says. So we read Good Night, Washington, D.C., a horrible riff on Goodnight Moon. But he likes to ID the animals on the first page as the National Zoo wakes up. Repeat the lay down and tuck him in. Fast forward to 8:15, dinner finally warming in the microwave. Cries this time of "Daddy? Daddy? Daddy!" Just like that -- inquiring at first, then plaintive. I pick him up, pat him on the back and tell him all the people who love him, led by yours truly and ending with the neighbor's dog. That does the trick and he goes down for the rest of the night.

Not as seamless as Carey's bedtime routine, but as my 67-year-old father always reminds me, "It's nice to be needed." (Happy Birthday, by the way, Dad!)

Cheese!

There's nothing better than watching kids feel better after they've been sick. I only had a few hours with Lincoln today after a short day at work, but it was like sunshine following days of rain. He and his sister and mother met me at the train station. We played for 20 minutes or so at the small urban park on South Orange Avenue. Some game called Lava Monster that I don't really understand. It involves Mom with a stick and Greta shouting various commands while running around. Lincoln, meanwhile, checked out every rock and bench and flowerbed, keeping up a constant dialogue. We then had breakfast for dinner at the Village Diner and strolled back up the hill for bath and bed.

Pre-bed cuddling

True dialogue

Greta: I don't want Mommy to leave.
Me: She's just going to have a drink with her friends.
Greta: I want to go.
Me: You can't. They'll be drinking alcohol. That's for grown-ups.
Greta: I'm going to go with her. I can drink alcohol. Trust me.

If that's how she talks at almost-4, what are we in for 10 years from now???

Bug eyes

Just a funny photo taken this week by Carey. Greta rarely opens her eyes this wide. And I dig the cherry-pomegranate Crystal Light moustache.

He did it!

Linc is still under the weather, but he is full of surprises. About ten minutes ago he declared "Potty!" and insisted on sitting on Greta's Dora the Explorer toilet seat. He did his business like a pro and couldn't wait to flush. And I thought potty training a boy was going to be hard! (I know, I know...we have a long road ahead, but still, what a promising start at 21 months old!)

Too good to be true

Last night, Lincoln slept through the night for the first time in weeks. What started as "legitimate" waking when he had his ear infection last month has morphed into "hey, they come when I call so I might as well get some middle-of-the-night cuddles and a clean diaper" over the last few weeks. After consulting the sleep guru, Dr. Marc Weissbluth's, book (Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child) for a brief refresher, I went to bed last night resolved to let him self-settle should he wake up in the middle of the night.


Imagine my surprise when I rolled over at 6:45 a.m. and heard a sweet "Mommy? Mama? Mommy?" from down the hall! My resolve was not even necessary...how about that?!

I walked into his room and started to coo: "I am so proud of you, Lincoln! What a good sleeper you are! Thank you for letting mommy get so much rest!" He smiled back at me. "Mama?" He stretched up his arms. I reached down to pick him up... and immediately felt heat. My good-sleeper-of-a-baby was actually a sick little boy, awakening with a low-grade fever.

We spent a quiet morning at home, but he perked up after his nap and enjoyed some time outside. His energy, enthusiasm, and enjoyment of a little chocolate Easter bunny made me think he had kicked whatever it was he had a touch of. But around dinner time, he was clingy and hot again. I gave him a dose of ibuprofen and he went right to sleep at 7. Here's hoping for another good night of sleep, but a healthier toddler in the morning!

I'm a, I'm a ... diva!

Props to the reader who guesses the singer sans Google...

Greta's aunt Chris hooked the kids up with lots of clothes last weekend. The Fort Drum BX was having a fire sale and she took full advantage. By my count, it was about a dozen outfits for a little more than $20! Greta's insisted on wearing one each day since we got back. This morning's ensemble was straight out of Monique Lhullier's 2009 spring-summer collection. Sheer purple flower-print dress with a faux fur blazer loosely tied at the neck.

Sense of place

We made it home safely yesterday after a lovely weekend in Rodman. There's truly something about home. I stood in the town hall gym where I used to play endless games of basketball with every boy in the neighborhood. Shots from half court (about 15") counted for three and you had to under-arc your ball to avoid the drop ceiling. I could clearly recall last-second heroics and heated arguments over fouls that escalated into fights. The baskets are long gone, replaced by a wall-to-wall mirror on one end. Watching Greta practice dance moves, I wondered, will she and and Lincoln someday feel similiar nostalgia for South Orange, New Jersey? I fear they'll never ride their bikes alone. They certainly won't spend all afternoon after school playing outside only to come in when Mom yells, "Dinner!" But I'm sure their childhood will have its own indelible moments and memories. In the meantime, I'll continue to take lots of pictures of them when they're in Rodman.

More party pictures

Merrill men

Robert F. Merrill was born on March 22, 1914.
Jerry S. Merrill was born on April 1, 1942.
Robert S. Merrill was born on Jan. 19, 1972.
Lincoln D. Merrill was born on June 25, 2007.

Northern exposure

Drove up to Syracuse this morning and arrived in time for lunch and a birthday cake with Carey's niece Emily. She was an excellent portrait subject -- photogenic, fascinated by the camera and her Uncle Robbie.

Continued north to Rodman after lunch and enjoyed some twilight playground time before a lovely meal of grilled pork loin, sweet potatoes and asparagus.

Tomorrow we celebrate my grandfather's 95th birthday. Breakfast served between 8-10, cake and cocktails at 2.

He can run, but he cannot hide!

Poor Jinx. All he wants is to enjoy the spring air in peace, watch the birds in our backyard, and eye the squirrels in the trees. But Greta and Lincoln love to love him. And they go to great lengths (and heights) to make sure he knows how much they adore him.
Oh, and for you true blog loyalists, who remember a similar pic when Greta was a mere ten months old, here is the link for your walk down memory lane. Hard to believe that was nearly three years ago to the day!

Spring is in the air

The kids enjoyed a nice hike to the waterfall yesterday with buddies Duncan and Emma, in honor of Duncan's 4th birthday. Greta and friends sang "We're going on a hike!" with much gusto as they trekked through the woods. Lincoln chimed in with "Hike! Hike!" as he took four steps to their two in a desperate effort to keep up. I was impressed with how far he toddled (almost to the second bridge, for those familiar with the trail!) before turning to me and asking, "Up, please!"

After staring at the tall, tall trees, too much rock-dropping into the water at the falls, and a snack of peanut butter crackers, trail mix (though the kids mostly ate the M&M's), pirate booty, and drinks, we headed back to the parking lot for celebratory birthday shamrock cookies.

Duncan's mom, Nicole, and I agreed the outing was a huge success, and congratulated ourselves on wrangling the foursome. The first such hike of many this spring, I'm sure! Click here for the slide show!

St. Patty's Parade "Cheese!"

Daddy's girl

Shutter play

This week's photography assignment: Mess with the shutter speed to both sharply capture images in motion and blur them artistically. I haven't done well with the latter, but I attempted the former this afternoon at the playground with Greta. It's kind of difficult without a sporting event to photograph, so I asked Greta to run through the frame as fast as she could. She took it as a personal challenge, churning her legs and breathing heavy.

Meanwhile, I haven't forogtten my aperture tricks -- here's a nice one with low depth-of-field.

Syringe art

Carey never stops thinking of new ways to broaden the kids' artistic horizons. Friday it was a little something I could see taking off in the inner city --Syringe Art! Fill it with plain water, put drops on the paper, then dab with a watercolor brush. The resulting mixed media -- signed by the artist with no help from Mom! -- was called Easter Lamb with Chicken Friends Under a Cloud.

Helping Parent VI

Carey spent another 2 1/2 hours as the helping parent at Greta's preschool today. They apparently did it all -- farm animals, reading, painting, Big Wheel riding in the gym, and of course, dress up. It's gratifying (to me, at least) to see that Lincoln is not the only male charmed into wearing a gown in Greta's presence.

Kitch in the kitchen

Lincoln has yet to really develop his interest in baking, but he knows enough to come running when he hears the mixer. His big sis licked hers clean in record time, urging her brother, "Come on, Linc!" Despite her encouragement, he held on to that beater and nibbled away until I pried it from his hands so that we could leave the house and head to the park. He quickly suppressed his wails ("MOOORE! EAT IT!!!!") when I promised him cookies at the park. Fun in the kitchen...you just can't beat it!

Uncanny resemblance

This morning Lincoln found Greta's sunglasses while we were in the playroom. He put them on, and I had to grab the camera. Watch out, Sir Elton, there's a new kid on the block!

Duck feeding boots

Zoo day

We had a wholly unoriginal idea this morning and went to the zoo on the first warm day of the late winter/early spring. But we got there early and the crowds weren't too bad. It was a treat watching Lincoln take it all in. Last time I was there with him he could barely toddle. This time he was off like a shot as soon as we got through the gate. Didn't spend a minute in the stroller. I spent a lot of time practicing my photography. I'm taking an adult school class in digital photography and this week's lesson is depth of field. Mess with the f-stop and shutter speed until the foreground is in focus and the background is blurred. Let me know how you think I did.

All smiles

Yesterday was parent/teacher conference day at Greta's preschool. Mrs. Hicks repeated many of the things she'd said informally and reviewed the "report" she prepared (click on the picture to enlarge). When I asked if she had any advice for us, or if there were any areas of concern, or if she wanted us to work on anything, she smiled very sweetly. "You have a wonderful little girl. Just keep doing what you are doing." I left feeling like Rob and I were awarded smiley faces, too. We love you, Greta, and are very proud of you!

The Humphreys go digital!

Just a quick note to welcome Greta's soulmate and his little sister to the blogosphere. Jay & Ella Humphreys are the proud owners of a shiny new blog -- EllaJay. The name is still under consideration if readers have better ideas. I have added a perma-link to our Friends Blogroll, but wanted to give it a little top promotion as well.

I expect future posts exploring Jay's penchant for beating up kids at his Catholic pre-school. Is it Jewish rage? Too much Batman? Not to mention posts about why Jay is at a Catholic pre-school.

Kidding, G & Alli ... welcome to the blogosphere!

Concentration

My cousin Ryan, who maintains his own family blog, used to stick his tongue out while playing sports long before Michael Jordan made it famous. I remember his Dad telling him he'd bite it off one day playing basketball. But he never did.

Lincoln's not much of a competitive athlete yet, but he does stick out his tongue when concentrating. I think he was drawing when this photo was taken.

Tea time

Pitchers and catchers have reported

Hope, like steroids in baseball, springs eternal.