Category: Beth

You were not there. We were at Adventure Island (a water park next to Bush Gardens – for those of you not familiar with Tampa). Beth said something that was absolutely precious. I’m in a bit of a mental pickle. I can’t recall what it was.

You might have heard that we were having trouble with Cheryl’s lemon Saturn.
When Cheryl’s car goes caput, I go to my parent’s house for a loaner. This last time the loaner was none other than THE MR-2. A little two door, mid-engine, sports car made by Toyota. My dad has a fun little manual five speed.

The next morning I realized an opportunity for some daughter-father bonding, so I suggested to Cheryl that I could take the kid to school. Since I’m the one that usually drives the loaner, this meant I’d be taking Beth to school in THE MR-2.

Beth and I walked out the door. Beth went first and walked up beside THE CIVIC. I took the route less traveled, and went to unlock THE MR-2. Beth exclaimed, “are we going in grandpa’s car daddy?!?”

“Yep,” I feigned casual.

Beth ran up to the passenger side of THE MR-2 and cautioned, “daddy, grandpa’s car doesn’t have a back seat and I’m not supposed to ride in the front.”

What’s a father supposed to say to that? I try to explain things to Beth when she asks, even if it won’t be entirely understood. I said, “well Beth, most cars have an airbag that pops out when you get into an accident, but it’s only in the front seat. Airbags can be dangerous for little kids because kids are really little, and airbags are really big and really fast. But, grandpa’s car doesn’t have airbags, so it’s not like our cars, and in some ways it’s a little safer for kids in the front seat.”

Beth wasn’t just o.k. with this explanation, she reveled in it. During the five minute drive to school, my normally talkative child uttered just one sentence:

“Daddy, this is REALLY cool!”

She sat in that seat like a queen on her throne, looking all around, unaccustomed to the unobstructed view.

Now fast forward to yesterday. We finally decided to send Cheryl’s lemon Saturn down the river. It was well past time we took a do-over, so we bought a car. (Yes, we bought; but that’s another story.) Cheryl and I left work early, but the deal still wasn’t done when it came time to pick up Beth. Since we were close, I left to get Beth and brought her back to the dealership. I brought her up to speed on the way back, and she was eager to get a close look at mommy’s new car. We went inside and walked up to the equivalent model in the showroom. Beth walked around to the passenger side, opened the front door and climbed in. She turned to me and asked in an innocent and hopeful tone: “daddy, does this car have airbags?”

Is it better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all?

Ask Beth.

Stop me if you have heard this story before…
A little kid goes potty and has a little too much fun with the toilet paper. Three towels, two liberal applications of disinfectant, one roll of paper products, and at least half a dozen months of life expectancy later … the bathroom floor was dry again.

Every child must learn what volume of solids a toilet can handle on their own. Unfortunately for the parents of the world, it’s a trial and error process.

My daughter has a peanut allergy, which means we have no peanut products in our house. I like eating peanut products, which means I do without a lot. This morning I was hungry. Not an “I could use a little something to snack on” hungry; more like an “all you can eat buffet, eat until you puke” hungry. Normally I would snack on a couple of saltines, but that would not do today. No, not only was I hungry but drowsy as well. No, I needed the holy trinity of GO food: sugar, caffeine, and corn syrup. Cocoa, various artificial colors, artificial flavors, fillers, and fats also round out the mix; but those are the inactive ingredients, there solely to enhance the consumption process.

Yes, it was time for a junk food run.

I made my way to the junk food dispenser in our office break room. There it was, staring me in the face, the perfect vehicle for killing three birds with two stones: a Butterfinger and a Mountain Dew. On the first pass, John popped the Mountain Dew, tossed it back, savored those artificial flavors, and it was good. On the second pass, John ripped open the Butterfinger, devoured it, and it was good.

I haven’t had a Butterfinger in a while, so I’d forgotten my excavation equipment (for cleaning the hardened remnants from between my teeth); but it was still worth it. Now I’m ready for the rest of the day. Bring it on.

This morning Cheryl and I had the pleasure of bringing Beth in for some out-patient surgery. She had some tubes put into her ears to relieve her chronic ear infection problem, but they stayed in longer than they should have. The doctor said they normally come out on their own, but it appears hers didn’t. One thing was good about this trip to the hospital: it was short. Now, let’s see…what wasn’t good? We went in at six a.m. for starters. There were crying children in pain in the next curtained area over. And then there’s the fever and … this foul smelling liquid substance that keeps coming out of her mouth, about eight ounces at a time. The doctor says it’s probably due to dehydration, but isn’t that getting the cart before the horse? Anyway, I’ve had better days. And yet, here I am tempting fate by getting an allergy shot this afternoon. Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I feel like I’m just asking for anaphylaxis. Then again, didn’t someone of greater note than myself once ask, “can you call it paranoia if everyone really is out to get you?”

Beth has gone in for surgery twice in her lifetime. The first time she had a kidney removed. The second time she had tubes put into her ears. On Tuesday, she is scheduled for her third surgery, to remove the tubes previously placed in her ears. We were discussing the upcoming surgery this evening. When we reminded her that they would be taking out her tubes she asked, “Will they be putting my kidney back in?”

It seems people don’t mind putting up with other people in their world, as long as they don’t get in the way. Nowhere was this more evident than at the ice skating rink last week. Now, I know what you’re thinking … ice skating rinks are not exactly a bastion of peace on earth and good will towards our fellow homo sapiens. Even still, Cheryl was taken aback by one woman’s comments last Wednesday. This middle aged woman was sharing a hockey rink sized piece of ice with Beth and six other youths. She had one close encounter with a certain five year old with six months worth of skating lessons, and subsequently pulled that same five year old aside to ask her a question. Beth apparently responded to this question with a pointing gesture towards Cheryl. The older woman skated over and said to Cheryl, “I don’t think your daughter is old enough to be skating around alone.” I’m not sure what she was expecting, but she apparently didn’t get it. Cheryl responded, “I think you should watch where you’re going. If you don’t want to skate with kids, maybe you should come out when school’s in session.”
Touche!

Beth can be reckless, but she’s too new to skating to be intentionally careless. She’s at least a couple of lessons shy of doing anything other than skating straight – with intent. At the same time, she’s not exactly an accident waiting to happen either. Her feet spend more time on the ice than her back side and she can glide in a straight line, even if she can’t stop on a dime.

We live in a world filled with other people. Why are so many people surprised when they run into one? Will we ever figure out how to coexist?

My daughter having an exceptional week at school. This week went like a 50’s sitcom. It really was nice. I don’t mean to say that we haven’t had good weeks before, it’s just that they’ve been in short supply lately. It was nice to get one back.

We have known Beth to be influenced by TV advertising for some time. When she was three years old and could barely pronounce her full name she could, with perfect TV announcer intonation, declare to mommy and daddy that she really wanted “Cinderella II: Dreams come true, now available on home video and DVD.” Now she is starting to see the commercials for Spy Kids II. She already owns Toy Story II, The Little Mermaid II, and at least one other sequel that I can’t immediately recall. Her five year old mind has taken this phenomenon to the next logical step. Now we’re trying to explain to her that we don’t even know IF there will be a Lilo and Stitch II, let alone when it will be available on home video and DVD.

Earlier this evening I was sitting down next to Beth and she was enthusiastically talking about something; exactly what it was escapes me. Some kind of parent I am, teaching my daughter such wonderful listening skills. I bring this up not to point out more of my shortcomings as a parent, but to try and explain something I observed that may prove to be unexplainable. While Beth was speaking I noted her tone, if not the words themselves. It was a tone that I have come to think of as: “child pretending to be an adult in explanation mode”. It is not uncommon for Beth to take this tone on a dozen occasions in a single day. There is something about a five year old explaining the concept of “all grass being green” that tickles me. Anyway, she was explaining some such nugget of five year old wisdom when I noticed her eyes. They were wide open, yet relaxed. They were inquisitive yet giving. Looking into her eyes I was reminded what a remarkable thing it is to have a child.