We’ve been having an unusual amount of snow the past several days and have been making the most of it. Maple Leaf Park, near our house, is a great place to go sledding:
Today we made a giant snowman and snow fort (with tunnel). Click the photo below to see the whole set:
(This is an entirely unedited list, exactly as Ruby said it)
This morning Ruby and I were sitting in the bathroom together, as we occasionally do. I finished up my business and waited for her to finish hers. For no particular reason I started singing “Ring of Fire”. It’s one of Ruby’s favorite songs, and I’ve got a tendency to burst into random song at random times.”He’s dead,” Ruby said after I’d finished the chorus.”Who?” I asked.”Johnny Cash is dead,” Ruby said. I was impressed that she remembered who sang the song, and even more impressed that she knew he’d died.”Yes,” I said, “he died a few years ago. But he lived a long time, so that’s okay. Most people live a long time, and then they die.”I’m not one to shy away from the topic of death with Ruby. Death is a natural part of living, and one of my goals as a parent is to give her a holistic view of the world. I told Ruby that most people live a long time, but some people don’t. And I told her that everything dies: people, animals, trees, everything dies, because that’s an important part of life.”But Papa”, Ruby said, “who will be my parent if you die?”This was an unexpected question. Not just the transition from death of random people to the death of me, but the more insightful understanding that if I died, then I wouldn’t be around to take care of her. From the worried look in her eyes, I could see that Ruby has a good understanding of what death means.I told Ruby that if I died, then her Mama would take care of her. And if Mama died too, there would be a long line of people who would be there to take care of her: her Aunt Ni, Bebe and Pop, Nana and Grandpapa. She wouldn’t have to worry about that. And I also told her that I would probably be alive for a long time, so she wouldn’t have to worry.”Will you come back?” she asked.I told her that was a complicated question, and that some people think I will, but that I think I probably won’t.”You should come back,” she said.”Well, I’ll try, Ruby, and if I can, then I will.”She paused for a few moments, thinking about it.”You should come back,” she said again. Then after a few more moments, “I love you.””I love you too,” I told her, and that is a great way to end a conversation about death.
Kate, Ruby, and I took advantage of some well-timed good weather to do two fun things: go swimming, and visit the Puyallup fair. Both of these were great opportunities to see Ruby try some new, fun things.
Two weeks ago we went to Mounger Pool (an outdoor pool in Magnolia) on its last open day of the season. The weather was sunny but a little chilly, and we were all fighting off colds, but we decided to brave the waters anyway. Ruby had been taking swimming lessons with me all summer, and Kate was excited to see firsthand the progress she’s made.
Ruby showed Kate all the new swimming skills she’s acquired over the summer: she can hang onto a water noodle (or other flotation device, probably) and swim around all by herself; she can jump from the pool deck into the arms of someone waiting in the pool; she can hang on the edge of the pool by herself; she can comfortably float on her back while I hold onto just the back of her head; and we can even let go of her for a few seconds and she’ll go underwater and open her eyes (she’s not strong enough to swim to the surface yet).
Mounger has a decent water slide. It has a single drop at the beginning leading into a 270-degree turn before the water. It’s small, but worth the extra dollar each for unlimited rides. We took Ruby on this slide — she sat between my legs (or Kate’s legs) and we’d slide down together. After a trip with each parent, though, she wanted to go down by herself!
Kate or I would go down first and wait for Ruby at the bottom of the slide. Then the other would put Ruby in the slide and gave her a little shove. She mostly stayed upright and pointed in the right direction, and loved the ride. She wanted to go again and again. I watched her from above as she slid down the last section before she hit the water, and the giant grin on her face was the highlight of my day.
Some things can really upset Ruby’s sense of order. For example, she hates sledding — and not just when she does it, but when anybody does it. Check out this video from last month:
Sledding with Aunt Nicole from Kate on Vimeo.
She had the same reaction a few weeks later when we were watching complete strangers doing some sledding.
Last night, we had our first family video night and the three of us watched first half of Ratatouille together. There’s a scene where Remy (the rat protagonist) takes a harrowing water ride atop a cookbook, down a waterfall and into the sewers. This particular scene upset Ruby, and we had to pause the movie for a few minutes until she sorted herself out.
My parents told us a similar story from last year, when they took Ruby to see a dog show. They were up in the stands, far away from the action. One dog was supposed to jump a hurdle, but knocked over the bar instead. The dog then grabbed the bar and starting running around the ring with the bar in his mouth. This freaked Ruby out, she wouldn’t stop crying, and they had to leave the show.
I wonder what it is about these scenes that upsets Ruby? For what it’s worth, she has no problem with playground slides.
Ruby is going through another “Mama” phase. Her preference for each parent varies on a weekly basis — peaking towards me on Sunday nights and then back to Kate again by Friday. Over the past few weeks, though, the arrow has generally pointed more strongly towards Kate. And Ruby’s been sick this week, making her clingy and fragile and wanting more attention.
This mostly manifests itself in hugs. Mama gets lots of hugs. I get very, very few. As you can probably understand, this is kind of hard for me.
Yes, I know it’s just a phase. I know she loves us both. I know there’ll be times when I’ll be the Preferred Parent and Kate will feel left out. But hugs are pretty much the only currency in this economy right now, and so (for the moment) I’m feeling like quite a pauper.
For Fathers’ Day this year, after the requisite breakfast in bed and a morning nap, we headed off to the KEXP Kids Dance Party at Neumos. We enjoyed the music, the breakdancing, and the free cupcakes. It was a fun time, even though Ruby’s idea of dancing would be more accurately described as “walking through the crowd trying to ditch her parents.”
Today, I printed out some pictures of far-away relatives for Ruby to see. One of them was my brother Michael (who lives in Singapore). Something about the phrase “Uncle Michael” tickled Ruby’s fancy and she repeated it, sort of. She kept saying it all day. I decided to capitalize on this and associate his picture with his name.
For her first birthday, Michael gave Ruby a book about airplanes. So, I printed a tiny picture of his face and added him to the first page:
click for full-size
Then, I taped Ruby talking about it. The way she says “Uncle Michael” sounds like a cross between “taco” and “cuckoo”. Take a look…
Ruby’s cousin, Zacharie Georges Cybak Leroux, was born on Thursday the 31st. Ruby can’t wait to teach him the ways of the world in a few years…
click for full-size
