SEEING WHAT DEMOCRACY LOOKS LIKE - PART 1

We took MEB and MTB to the Capital to witness some of the protests.  I was a little concerned about their safety considering what was being reported on Fox News.  As everyone knows their reporting is so fair and balanced (Just watch it for a while and they'll tell you this every five minutes).

It was Saturday morning (No we weren't skipping school.  GREEDY TEACHERS!) and protesters from the Tea Party were expected to rally that day.  We pushed the kids around the Capital in their stroller and reached the area where the Tea Party was congregating within an orange plastic fence.  MEB wondered what was going on and we told her this was the Tea Party.  She wondered where the balloons and cake and games were.  We told her that they wouldn't have any balloons and cake and the only game they'd probably play is pin the tail on the donkey.

MEB and MTB then froze, both starring at a women wearing a leopard patterned fur coat.  The coat defied all they'd seen in the numerous animal books we own.  Was it a leopard?  A bear?  A mink?  Perhaps a cross-breed (This is the Tea Party after all).  The woman wearing the coat noticed the kid's stares.  She smiled and waved at them which prompted MTB to change his stare to a surly grimace, point at her and yell "No!"  MEB told MTB it was okay then asked us what kind of animal the woman's coat was made of and where did it come from.  We didn't know what kind of animal it was but were pretty sure it came from Tennessee.

We moved on out of fear that MTB was going to raise a ruckus and be included in the less that one percent of people who protested in an uncivil manner.  This would most certainly earn him the lead story on the Sean Hannity Show.  Once Hannity learned that MTB was the son of two educators he'd do an entire show on it followed by Greta Van Sustern's objective reporting of the incident.  I could just hear the lead:  Violent protests continue to erupt throughout the Middle East threatening the stability of the region, but first, apparently teachers in Madison will stop at nothing to intimidate the great Americans from the Tea Party's peaceful  protest in Madison by inciting their two-year-old son to provoke violence.

We moved on with MTB's attention stolen by a man dressed in a cow suit caring a sign that read, "Scott Walker is udderly ridiculous."  Finally, an animal he recognized.  MTB pointed at it and said "Moo."  MEB quickly responded to her little brother by explaining to him that it wasn't a cow, it was a man.  MTB rubbed his face in confusion.

  

DARK INVADER

I was downstairs sitting on the couch watching the news as my wife was upstairs giving MEB and MTB a bath.  I was enjoying this brief moment of solitude  when I heard MEB scream, "Mommy, MTB pooped in the bath!"  My wife quickly removed the kids from the tub, leaving their bath toys stranded.  She called down to me with a chuckle, "It's happened again." 

MEB was upset at the realization that she was in the bath when the unwelcome visitor from the bowels of her brother arrived.  My wife assured her everything was fine and that Daddy had dealt with something like this before (I've been dealing with #$%&* my whole life). 

I quickly arrived in the bathroom and noticed the dark brown invader.  The most noticeable item left in the tub was a plastic figurine of Dora The Explorer unknowly floating toward the invader.  I worried she had mistaken it for Boots and would soon embrace what she thought was her bi-lingual primate friend.
"Vamanos!  Vamanos!"  I yelled, but Dora kept floating towards it with a smile on her face.  If I ever wished for Swiper The Fox it was now.  Of course, if Swiper happened to swip this I speculated he would frustratinly yell "Oh Man!" for different reasons than usual.  Fortunately, I was able to capture the invader (I won't go into detail on how) and rescued Dora and the other toys, quickly quarentining them in a small bucket filled with clean water and disinfectant. 

I'm the first to admit that I struggle with domestic choirs, but when I finished cleaning that bath tub you could've eaten off it.

Later that night I laid awake in bed.  I couldn't  help but think about Dora.  That innocent smile on her face and the trauma she would have suffered if she, in fact, had reached the dark invader.  Trauma such as that would surely lead her down the same destructive path as so many other child stars, eventually resulting in numerous stays in rehab centers and a couple stints in jail.  I felt proud that I was able to save her from such a fate and pray that as she enters her teenage years there will be others to save her from the dark invader.

UNWELCOME VISITORS

While giving M.E.B. a bath this morning, two potato-shaped objects emerged from beneath the soapy water. They didn't look like any of the usual toys M.E.B. shared her baths with. When M.E.B. noticed the now floating objects, she slid herself to the back of the tub, pointed at them and exclaimed “Yucky!” I immediately realized the two objects weren’t toys.

I am a product of my generation so of course the first thing that came to mind was the pool scene from the movie Caddyshack. To prevent a mass panic I calmly removed M.E.B. from the tub and cleaned her thoroughly with a washcloth and soap. I then got her dressed and planted her in front of an episode of Dora The Explorer so she would be occupied while I took care of the situation.

Situations such as this aren’t covered in any of the books on parenting we own. They’re not addressed in the pre-parenting classes they require you to take at the hospital. There are many things to take into consideration when facing such an emergency, yet quick action is needed as with each passing second the objects floated in the water, they were posing a great risk to the safety of her toys that still remained in the tub. What was the family of yellow rubber ducks to do? Or the little plastic people that M.E.B. forced into her bath? I couldn’t desert these inanimate creatures that, through no choice of their own were flung into each bath to make M.E.B.’s cleaning more enjoyable.

There was no time for a detailed plan. I’d have to rely on my instincts and creativity. I rushed back to the bathroom. The two objects seemed to be slowly chasing the rubber ducks around the tub while the little plastic people hid at the bottom. I must say that I was quite impressed with the attitude of the ducks and little people as they had the same wide smiles on their faces as they always seemed to have.

I knew that in order to fix this situation I’d have to risk my own hygiene. You can’t win a war without sacrifice. So, I reached into the water and pulled the drain plug to begin emptying the contaminated water. Next, came the most difficult part; the removal of the objects. I grabbed a large wad of toilet paper and smothered the first one, removing it from the water and disposing it in it’s appropriate place; the toilet. The second one would be more difficult for it seemed to know something was up and decided to try a divide and conquer strategy. Fortunately, I had enough toilet paper to contain both and removed them, also transferring them to their holding cell; the toilet.

The trial of these objects was quick, with me serving as the judge, jury, and executioner. With the pressing of a silver colored lever, they were sent away for life.

While justice was being done, the water had drained from the tub and I removed the ducks and little people. I dropped them in a bucket and filled it with hot water and a strong disinfectant. Again, I was impressed with their positivity as they continued to smile. The objects had left remnants in the tub of their brief, yet powerful existence. I collected these remnants with more toilet paper and sent them to re-unite with their makers. I then sprayed disinfectant in the tub and scrubbed it. I did this again and again and again and again and again until I became dizzy from the fumes. I then turned the shower on to give the tub a final rinse. The ducks and little people continued to soak. I turned off the shower and went to check on M.E.B. who was staring at the Dora The Explorer video.

I haven’t taken a shower today and don’t know if I will, at least until the fumes from the disinfectant clear which might take a while. I rest assured in knowing that the invaders of my daughter’s bath have been sent to their rightful place. The ducks and little people seem to be recovering nicely, drying on a towel, still smiling. Yet, I worry that I’ll never be able to see M.E.B.’s baths in the same way. I know M.E.B. will recover fine. Kids are resilient. As much as I like the ducks and little people, I fear that our relationship may be contaminated (no pun intended) for life.

SHUT UP, DADDY

Last night about an hour before bedtime my wife, M.E.B. and I were hanging out in our living room as we often do during this time of day. M.E.B. was pulling a small wagon filled with a variety of knick-knacky toys around the room. I started to sing, as I often do during this time, to get M.E.B. to start dancing (Something she loves to do). A few notes into my song M.E.B. stopped pulling her wagon, looked over at me and said, “Shut Up.” Her mother and I looked at each other, astonished. Her mother told her that that wasn’t nice to say and that she should instead say, “Would you please be quiet?” M.E.B. seemed a bit confused. She paused, looked at her mother and then at me. “Shut Up, Daddy.” She said again.

Now, I should say that this isn’t the first time in my life a woman has told me to shut up. In fact, if I had a nickel for every time it’s happened throughout my life I’d be sipping margaritas on the deck of my beachfront mansion in Malibu. In many case’s “Shut Up” is the nicest thing many women have said to me. However, we certainly want M.E.B. to be respectful and kind (even to her father) so my wife, more sternly, told her that that wasn’t a nice thing to say to your daddy or anyone and that we don’t say that in this house. M.E.B. immediately perceived the seriousness in the tone of her mother’s voice and within seconds, tears gushed from her tiny brown eyes, her face became red, and a high pitched wailing came from her mouth. She ran to her mother, seeking comfort and forgiveness. I was thinking: Wait a minute; I’m the one she told to shut up. Where’s mine?

As always, my wife did a wonderful job comforting M.E.B. and explaining to her the appropriate thing to say in that situation. She then asked M.E.B. if she heard someone at the child care she goes to say that. At this point, my body tensed up, fearing that M.E.B. would respond by saying, “No, I heard daddy say it.” I must confess that I’ve used the phrase a time or two. Most often it is to know-it-all sports commentators on one of those talk radio shows or to Bill O’ Reilly when I accidentally stumble on to his prime time talk show on the Fox News Channel. Usually it’s because he’s yelling at one of his guests or repeatedly telling his viewers how “fair and balanced” he is. (Note to those who think Bill O’ Reilly is fair and balanced. If you have to tell people over and over that you’re fair and balanced, you’re usually not fair and balanced). Fortunately, M.E.B. confessed that she heard another child say it at childcare.

With M.E.B. tormented by guilt, sitting on her mother’s lap I assured her that it was okay and that I still loved her. Her mother then asked her if she wanted to go over and give daddy a hug. M.E.B. shook her head no and flashed me a face as if she was saying, “This is your fault, daddy.” The sight of my child crying, regardless of how naughty she’s been, melts my heart. I quickly reflected: Perhaps it is my fault. I was the one who was singing with a voice that would make Paula Abdul shoot me if I were to audition for American Idol. Maybe the words “Shut Up” from a two year old’s mouth was a strong sign that I should reserve future singing for the shower or when no one is around.

Eventually, M.E.B. and I made our peace and instead of singing I play the bongos for her to dance to (I do play a mean bongo).

HOMECOMING PARADE

Last Friday MEB and I went to the University of Wisconsin (UW) homecoming parade. It was a cool, autumn afternoon with temperatures in the mid-fifties which required both of us to dress warmly. MEB is not a big fan of warm weather gear. She'd be content going outside in the cold wearing only her pink sweatshirt. However, with temperatures this cold I insisted that she wear a much thicker, more insulated coat and a stocking hat. Whenever I go to put these items on MEB a sound comes from her mouth that is the annoying equivalent of fingernails on a chalkboard. But I persist, assuring her that it for the best.

The parade ran down state street and upon arrival, the curbs were lined, four or five deep with people of all ages. We found a spot at the end of parade route and took a seat on the curb. The parade was an assorted mix of floats, local celebrities sitting atop the back seat in convertibles, student groups, and a variety of vehicles. The first thing we saw in the parade was the mayor chucking candy into the crowds. Because we were at the end of the route I figured we'd probably miss out. However, I soon learned that being at the end meant we'd be subject to the unloading of inventory and the mayor, along with many others in the parade, rained Tootsie Rolls, bubble gum, and other tooth decaying treats to us. Some participants threw knick-knacks, the best being a tiny, stress-ball shaped like a football. It was red and had the address of the Dean of Students on it. MEB clutched the ball throughout the parade. She wasn't much interested in the candy, but it would have been okay if she had considering she'd probably brush her teeth a few times before going to bed that night.

A large, red fire truck with flashing red lights slowly rumbled around the corner. When MEB saw it she pointed and said "@#&*" (Think of a curse word that rhymes with truck). I don't know if this was a phonetic mistake or if she was pointing in fear as if to say "Oh, @#&*, a fire truck." I chose to believe it was the first reason although I'm sure she has heard me us the word numerous times when watching the Badger football team this year.

The overall experience was one of those father-daughter moments I'll cherish forever. The look of excitement in her eyes as she looked at the colorful floats, heard the playful marching band, and saw the variety of trucks (or @#&*) was truly special.

HALLOWEEN, TOOTHPASTE AND DENTAL FLOSS

MEB and I went to Walgreens to pick up dental floss and training toothpaste (Special toothpaste you use with kids who are learning how to brush their teeth). It tastes good so that kids will want to brush their teeth just to eat the stuff. MEB loves it. She brushes her teeth at least three times a day and would do it more if she could.

Because it is Halloween season Walgreens is infested with a poupouri of Halloween related products. Upon entering through the sliding glass doors MEB and I were greeted by a row of scary caricatures made of plastic and rubber. A sign invited us to "Try Them" by pressing a small red button. The first was a king cobra that hissed and darted at us. The second was a guilotine. When you pressed the red button the blade fell and beheaded a pale-faced, dark-eyed man. Finally, there was Jason; the hockey-masked psychopath from the infamous Friday The 13th films. Jason held a machete soaked in blood which he swung when the red button was pushed. Fear of these violent images tatooing themselves in MEB's brain worried me. Such images could manifest into nightmares, awaking her in the middle of the night and interrupting her mom and my much needed slumber. However, I was surprised to see nothing but joy in MEB's face as she watched the mechanical butchery. My worry quickly shifted from MEB having nightmares to her tantruming me into buying one of the cheaply "Made In Taiwan" toys for $19.95, so I ushered her on.

Ghosts and goblins draped from the ceiling looking down on customers. A double-widthed aisle was devoted entirely to Halloween. One side was filled with racks of trick-or-treat candy. The other was an assortment of costumes and other Halloween junk. There was a variety of masks available for purchase. Many were replica's of famous people. MEB's eyes became fixated on one of Bill Clinton. She smiled with affection as she reached up and grabbed his red-tipped nose, squeezing it. I'm a big fan of the former president but after the Monica Lewinsky scandal I don't think I'm comfortable with my daugher doing this so we moved on.

Walgreen's offers the diversity of choices that grocery stores do, but the smaller size of the store make it's aisles easier to navigate. This doesn't make the task of shopping any less unpleasant for me, especially when searching for training toothpaste and dental floss. Certainly, both items are crucial to mantaining good oral hygiene and therefore would be in the same section. But which aisle? As usual, the signs that hung from the ceiling were of little assistance and MEB (All 28.5 pounds of her) was getting heavy. I must have walked back and forth by the aisles a half-dozen times. A light sweat began to form all over my body and the itchy wool sweater and blacking stocking cap I was wearing made it worse. An employee was re-stocking pregnancy tests, smiling at MEB each time we passed. I eventually found the dental hygiene section uncomfortably located in the same aisle as the feminine hygiene products. (I should note that if any products related to this should ever show up on one of the lists my wife formulates for me I will never go shopping again.) Of course, there were so many types of dental floss to choose from. Generic or brand name? Mint or regular? How many feet should I get? Beads of perspiration formed on my forehead as the collar of my wool sweater irritated the back of my neck. I shifted MEB to my left arm and grabbed a generic mint. The training toothpaste was on the bottom shelf just six inches off the floor. Thank goodness there was only two types to choose from and both of them had a lovable looking brown bear on the front. I set MEB down so I could bend over to get one when she excitedly yelled "Dora" and reached for the Dora The Explorer electric toothbrush placed right next to the toothpaste. I'm no marketing expert but I can't believe this was just a coincidence. I affirmed to MEB that it was Dora and she needed to go "night-night" back on the shelf.

At the checkout counter a nice woman behind us commented on how cute MEB was. I said she takes after her mother as I struggled to dig for my wallet. By this point I'm certain I'd lost at least ten pounds in water weight from sweating and wanted to just get out of there. I thanked the cashier and hurried MEB out the door.

DOCTOR'S APPOINTMENT

We took MEB to the doctor for one of her regular check ups. On the way there we told her where we were going and that it would be a lot of fun. It's amazing how much we lie to our children (unless you think having a bright light flashed directly in your eyes, a stick stuck in your mouth, a plastic, cone-shaped mechanism stuck in your ears, and a stranger's cold hands proding different parts of your body fun). MEB loved the chalkboard and small table set up for kids in the waiting room until she learned that she had to share them with three other kids that came. She hoarded the three pieces of chalk made available in a small dixie cup until her mom insisted that she share.

One of the first things the nurse does in the appointment is weigh MEB and measure her height. Each time before this happens her mom and I guess how much we think she weighs and bet on it. I've never won. However, this time I had a distinct advantage being the one who hauls MEB around so much (See Trip To Grocery Store). I guessed 30 pounds. My wife guessed 26. The nurse put MEB on a the scale and a red number showed up on the small monitor attached. 28.5 pounds. My wife quickly pointed out it was a tie because the number was exactly in the middle of the ones we picked (She is getting her PHD). I corrected her in saying that, actually, the number I picked was closer so I won. Being the competitive person that she is I waited for her to invoke the Showcase Showdown rule on the Price is Right. You know the one where if you guess an amount over the actual amount, regardless of how close it is, you are automatically disqualified. But I'm happy to say that she conceded and I won my first "Guess the weight of MEB" bet.

Back in the exam room the nurse asked us a series of questions: Does she have a vocabulary of 50 words? Can she follow three step directions? Does she give others directions? We answered in the affirmative to all of these with a resounding yes to the third emphasizing that MEB often gives her father directions, especially at the grocery store and the park. The nurse then told us to remove MEB's clothes down to her diaper and left a small gown with cartoonish elephants on it for her to wear. MEB wasn't keen on being stripped down to her Huggies in such a strange place and put up a good fight but eventually succumbed. However, she deviantly refused the gown and sat on my lap; then her mother's; then mine; then her mothers until the doctor came in.

The first thing the doctor commented on when she entered the room was how wildly curly MEB's hair was. She shared a picture of one of her children who had similar hair and proceeded to discuss with my wife a hair product that tamed the curls so they'd be more smooth. MEB was getting fussy, but the two woman continued discussing hair care strategies for infants. While I wanted to say something I've learned to keep my mouth shut in these situations.

The exam went as good as could be expected. MEB is a healthy two year old and we are very blessed to have her. I was especially pleased to hear the doctor say that there wasn't any rush for us to potty train her, which is a duty I'd been avoiding anyway.