Jake and Maggie

toast.

Jake — Tue, 25 Aug 2009 11:43:16 +0000

“Hey Dylan, do you want some toast?”
“I’m not Dylan. I’m Dylan’s sister.”
“Oh, what’s your name?”
“I don’t have one yet.”
“Ok. Hey, Dylan’s sister, do you want some toast?”
“Sure.”

Conversation with a colleague.

Jake — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 17:42:19 +0000

Sam: we hoisted a burrito for you at the project status meeting. you’d have been proud.
Jake: I believe that’s the first time a burrito has been hoisted for me.
Sam: I’m sure it won’t be the last. in fact, that’s how you should ask to be honored from now on.
Jake: I’m going to request that for my funeral.
Sam: you should request to be buried in a life-sized tortilla

Hydrogenated Oils

Jake — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 16:57:52 +0000

(In the checkout at Home Depot.)
Dylan: Dad, can we get one of those?
Jake: No, we don’t really eat Snickers.
D: Is it chocolate?
J: Yes, but it’s also other things and it’s not very good for you.
D: Like hydrogenated oils?
J: Yes, buddy. Like hydrogenated oils.

Energy.

Jake — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 12:22:59 +0000

I’ve never been known as one to “exercise.” Or “exert” myself. Or get up out of my “chair” all that much. A few years ago I lost a significant amount of weight without exercise and I think subconsciously I felt that I had proved I didn’t need it. But lately I’ve continued on the same dietary path I was on and am not able to maintain the girlish figure I once had.

So today I went for a run. Not on the treadmill, in the great outdoors, and I don’t think I’ve ever had this much energy in the morning. It was difficult considering how little I’ve moved over the last few years, but exhilarating.

I’m hoping to make this a habit and eventually love doing it. I say eventually because today I felt several times like I wanted to throw up or lay down on the sidewalk — and I only went 1.26 miles. I’m going to use iMapMyRun to track and map my runs.

If Eddie Izzard can run a marathon a day, I can at least start running around my neighborhood. I think this will be a good thing.

A poem this morning and a comment from Dylan

maggie — Tue, 19 May 2009 14:16:04 +0000

This morning, Dylan and I were reading poems (well, I was reading, he was listening). We came across this one from Raymond Carver

At Least

I want to get up early one more morning,
before sunrise. Before the birds, even.
I want to throw cold water on my face
and be at my work table
when the sky lightens and smoke
begins to rise from the chimneys
of the other houses.
I want to see the waves break
on this rocky beach, not just hear them
break as I did all night in my sleep.
I want to see again the ships
that pass through the Strait from every
seafaring country in the world—
old, dirty freighters just barely moving along,
and the swift new cargo vessels
painted every color under the sun
that cut the water as they pass.
I want to keep an eye out for them.
And for the little boat that plies
the water between the ships
and the pilot station near the lighthouse.
I want to see them take a man off the ship
and put another up on board.
I want to spend the day watching this happen
and reach my own conclusions.
I hate to seem greedy—I have so much
to be thankful for already.
But I want to get up early one more morning, at least.
And go to my place with some coffee and wait.
Just wait, to see what’s going to happen.

And after we finished, I said that it was sort of an exciting poem. And I asked Dylan what it made him feel like. And he smiled, a coy little gem, and said in a flash of excitement, “it makes me feel like I want to go to Starbucks and drink a coffee.”

The Itsy Bitsy Spider.

Jake — Sat, 11 Apr 2009 02:23:01 +0000

The Itsy Bitsy Spider was the only song that would keep Dylan sane on long (or average length or very, very short) car rides when he was a baby. Once we discovered his love for this stirring anthem, invoking it kept us from pounding our heads on the dashboard or otherwise turning the music to unholy levels.

Change.

Jake — Tue, 07 Apr 2009 02:52:20 +0000

Every 6 months or so I get the urge to refresh the blog. We don’t make a profit from it, nor has it generated much traffic as of late due to the fact that it was just a stream of tweets. But simply because I like change, I put my hands to it and came out with some minor pleasant tweaks.

As of the end of this month I will have plenty of change to talk about. The change itself will allow me the time to talk about it.

I like change.

Cheers.

Our roles

maggie — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 21:03:02 +0000

Every day I’m either Mary Poppins and Dylan is Michael. Or I’m Bert and he’s Mary Poppins (because, as he said, he can’t do Bert’s voice). I don’t want to burst his bubble, but he can’t do Mary’s voice either.

Today though, we played school. I was the teacher, and he was the student: Michael Banks. And he had all of his friends with him. These consisted of imaginary Jesse and imaginary Dylan.

Another day of fantasy and exploration. It’s great until I forget and just act like myself and then I get: “NO! You forgot to be the teacher!”

Right. How dare I.

Another rational conversation

maggie — Mon, 17 Nov 2008 14:12:30 +0000

Me: Are you ready for me to wash you up [in the bath]?

Dylan: Nope.

Me: Why not?

Dylan: Cuz I don’t want you to live in this city.

What we are faced with

maggie — Thu, 30 Oct 2008 14:52:59 +0000

When you finally have a moment, you’re fried.

That’s the essence of the issue. It’s not like I never get “a” moment. But those moments now happen to come at a time, when I have nothing left in reserves. Like for instance, at 9:30pm, when both boys are asleep and finally it’s “my” turn, or “our” turn.

But by then, what’s left? The dregs of my brain, the minimal energy in my body? What have I to do with those except lay them down and succumb to the next round of interrupted sleep…it is what we do. It is what all parents of young children do, I suppose. Except for perhaps those rich Mommys with nannys, I suppose. But what fun is a nanny? Someone to handle the ups and downs of your own children? No, thank you really, but no. Not that it’s a consideration, but if it were, I’d have to turn it down, flat.

As my wise mother said last weekend, “they are small for a much shorter period of time than they are grown.” And implied: cherish every moment.

And that is exactly what I intend to do.