Tag: teen-countdown

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Apr 7, 2003, Beth’s age: 5

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?”

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Feb 26, 2003, Beth’s age: 5

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.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jan 29, 2003, Beth’s age: 5

In kindergarten, there apparently is a no moving around policy in the lunch room. In other words, once you find a seat you stay in it until you are done. Beth has been given an exception to this rule. She has been told that if someone at her table is eating a peanut product, she is allowed to move due to her peanut allergy. Well, I was talking with her teacher and she recounted recent story from the lunch room. It seems Beth was sitting next to someone she didn’t want to be around. Beth being Beth, she raised her hand to get the lunch room monitor’s attention. Beth advised the monitor that she had to move. Naturally the monitor asked why. Beth apparently replied, “I can’t sit next to Dino because he has lettuce and I’m allergic to lettuce.”

That little stinker.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jan 15, 2003, Beth’s age: 5

Mommy and Daddy were having a little disagreement. Beth was caught in the middle, sitting at the table trying to do her homework. After this discussion began to wind down and mommy left the room, Beth called out, “mommy, stop being argumentative!”

“What did you say?”, mommy asked incredulously from the other room.

“Argumentative”, Beth responded.

“That’s what I thought you said, I just couldn’t quite believe it. Did you learn that word from daddy?”

It is a parents responsibility to teach their children, but my wife feels that I should be a little more selective in what I teach.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jan 22, 2003, Beth’s age: 5

I consider it a natural law of the human experience; we tend to find more joy in the unexpected moments than in those that are more routine.

If there is anything that makes me feel like a failure as a parent, it is that neither myself nor my wife has more time to spend with Beth in her school related activities. Both of us work, so we are not often available to strike out with her class on many of their adventures in learning. One day this week I was allowed to make amends. Beth’s class was going to visit “Safety Village” and I was able to tag along. Being the only daddy was some cause for concern. I am loath to draw attention to myself amongst strangers, and nothing draws attention like being unique. The unending chorus of: “ah, it’s so sweet Beth’s daddy could come along,” kept an invisible bullseye on my soul for the whole afternoon.

So there I was, walking into Beth’s classroom one day this week, one of the parent chaperones for the trip. I immediately scanned the room for Beth. I saw her first. She was sitting “in circle,” with her back turned to me. Her teacher was handing out name tags, and each student was dismissed from circle only after they had received their tag. Beth’s turn came and as she turned to leave the circle she faced me. She stopped in mid step, initially somewhat confused to see something that did not belong – me. Suddenly, I saw the memory of our morning conversation appear as a grin creased her face from ear to ear. I cringed a little as she momentarily forgot proper classroom protocol and ran to me for a big hug.

It’s disappointing that I can’t be there for more of her class activities, but it made this morning that much more special.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Nov 13, 2002, Beth’s age: 5

Veteran’s Day is a holiday for state employees in Florida. It is not a school holiday.

Little did we know, our alarm was about to take a holiday too.

It was seven-thirty, a full hour after Cheryl and I had hoped to be up. We had exactly thirty minutes to get Beth fed, dressed and out the door. On our best morning, when post alarm events mesh with Swiss precision, we all get out the door in 45 minutes. It was a challenge we had little choice but accept.

Do you know what?

We didn’t make it.

However, I had a back-up plan. The normal routine included a before school program, since both of us work. So the answer was simple: no before school program. In fact, it turned out to be the best thing that happened to me that day. The morning was a glorious Florida fall morning, so I decided we’d walk. Beth was thrilled to do something different, and do it with daddy. We walked through the neighborhood. We cut behind the baseball fields and approached the school from the rear.

We got to the student drop off area and said our goodbyes. Beth gave me her customary triple smooch farewell and she was off. I turned, took a few steps in the other direction and turned back. She was walking off to class with her back turned to me, her pony tail swinging in rhythm with each step. She was talking to one of her fellow students as they made their way to class. They were not overjoyed, but they were not upset either. They seemed happy.

So am I.

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jan 20, 2002, Beth’s age: 4

Title: One tooth, three teeth

Beth is holding three pencil erasers in the shape of teeth. She advises me (in her typically loud fashion, as if from half way across the house) she has three toothes. Recognizing the grammatical error, I explain to her she has three teeth, not three toothes. Beth, being a relatively stubborn child, insists she has three toothes. This goes on for about a minute or so before I convince her there is no such word as “toothes.”

Finally, she seems to be catching on, so I decide to quiz her.

“Beth, what do you have when you have three?”
“Three TEETH daddy!”
“Good! Very good Beth! Now, what do you have when you have just one Beth?”
“Two missing teeth daddy!”

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Jan 8, 2001, Beth’s age: 3

Title: A Lesson in Physics

Beth, doing her best impersonation of Isaac Newton, reaffirmed a couple of principles this evening: mommy and daddy’s rules are for good reason, and gravity plays no favorites.

Beth was in the family room when she decided Stuart Little was no longer worthy of her undivided attention. “Daddy, could you please give me my balloons?” I promise you I handed them to her innocently, with no idea what she would do with them… despite a couple years of practice as a parent.

Beth has taken to throwing things since staying in the hospital, in any direction that is convenient. Tonight it had unintended consequences.

Back to the balloons. Balloons in general, particularly the large foil – helium filled variety, are not very good for throwing. They’re all surface and no mass. Enter the rock ballast. Wrap it in foil, tie a couple of foil balloons to it with ribbon, it’s still a rock; and it still hurts when its dropped on your scull from 2 – 3 feet in the air. This is just what Beth achieved when, from a lying position, she awkwardly heaved the foil covered rock in the direction that tragically was most convenient at the time – straight up. Actually, I’m not sure if the rock technically hit her in the scull – unless the jaw/mouth is considered part of the scull (high school anatomy escapes me at the moment). Since teeth don’t bruise, and none of them were knocked out, the mishap left no visible marks or scars. There was just a bruised ego (if a 3 year old’s ego can be bruised), and hopefully a lesson as to why she should listen to mommy and daddy when they tell her not to do something.

Anyone got odds on wether I’ve learned anything?

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Aug 6, 2001, Beth’s age: 4

Title: You’re Never Too Young

Beth started the day, like nearly every other weekday, at 6 am. Although this is not out of the ordinary, getting up any earlier than 8 am is inherently bad. I’m neither looking for, nor do I expect any sympathy from those of the medical persuasion, but I think we all can agree to this in principle.

From there, Beth went to school and suffered through a long day. When she arrived, she discovered her teacher would not be there. Instead, she had a substitute – which is almost never a good thing. She didn’t get in a nap which is definitely never a good thing.

Tired from a lack of sleep, and already weary from suffering through a substitute teacher, Cheryl picked her up early to go to the dentist. It was her first time with the poke, prod, scrape, and polish routine. When the pain in her mouth was still around an hour later, we called on our good friend Motrin.

Not until later that night, when Beth was on the potty struggling with something too gross to describe, Beth pitifully announced: “Mommy, I’m having a bad day.”

Counting down the days until Beth’s thirteenth birthday with a few reposts from the archives.

Originally posted: Feb 26, 2000, Beth’s age: 2.5

Title: Beth Finds New Ways to Get Into Trouble

A little while ago, Beth decided she didn’t like having to wait on us to get her food for her. She is, as you know, a big girl now. She is capable of many things, including opening doors, especially the pantry door. Beth subsequently learned the joys of getting her own food when she is hungry. This lead to Beth getting all kinds of things out of the pantry, including things we wanted her to eat, as well as those we didn’t.

Being the logical, thinking parents that we are, we decided to put a stop part of this behavior, while still encouraging her independence. We merely took the things that we didn’t want her to eat and put them on a higher shelf.

Being the logical, thinking child that she is, Beth figured she could fetch the broom and use its handle (or for that matter anything that might extend her reach) to poke items she is not supposed to have (candy and the like) off of the upper shelves.

While part of me was upset seeing this take place so soon after we moved all of that food, I had to suppress an urge to laugh out loud, thinking to myself, “that’s my girl!”