My better half

Joey's been kind of mean to Dennis lately. He's being a momma's boy, so clingy. This evening, when Dennis went to give Joe his bath, Joey cried foul: "No, I want mom to do it! I want mom to wash me! I want mom to dress me!" Dennis persisted calmly, washing him quickly before sending him to me for pajamas. Joey was tearful and accusing: "I wanted you!" I tried to explain, in two-year-old terms, that Daddy loves him, and it makes him sad when Joey screams like that.  "I don't love Daddy," Joey shot back. "I love you."

I'm sure Dennis overheard all of this, but, to his extreme merit, he's been at this way too long to get ruffled.  Whatever reason Joey has for his little power-plays and tantrums surely will pass soon.  And then Joey will realize what he's been missing, because Daddy really knows how to show a kid a good time.

Suiting up

Lest you think I do this all on my own...

This morning we took the kids skating with their brand new toys. All three kids were thrilled with their gifts, and they were panting to go to the rink.

Joey decided to give Mr. Bear
a vacation this morning.

The last time we went skating, the ice was about two hours overdue for a visit from the Zamboni and their rental skates were dull.  This time we were the first people on the rink of the day, and their skates were freshly sharpened...and Ella was not pleased.  She had a much harder time keeping her feet under her, and she was very hard on herself because of it. And she lashed out at those around her, too.  At one point I looked back at her, half a rink away, and she yelled over at me "Go away, mom!" That was when I washed my hands of her for a little while.

Times like these, it's really nice to have two parents. Dennis skated over and talked her down, and generally helped her have a little fun and gave her a little confidence. She never did get back to joyful ease she found last week, but she did find her smile.

Back at home, while I made lunch, Dennis gathered the rest of the kids around the table and walked them through an hour-long board game. And then he curled up with Ella and read to her for an hour (because it's always nice to be read to).

Dennis's only ambition for the day was to get a little exercise, and he invited the kids to join him in that as well. The kids love it when Dennis has them do cross-fit exercises, particularly, and their favorite is the burpee. Dennis makes them do ten our twenty of those when they start bouncing off the walls of our little apartment. The kids call them "one-two-three-four-fives."

They weren't acting wild today, but they did have a little excess energy, so Dennis instead had them join him in some yoga stretches.

Overheard: "WOW! Daddy can stand on his head!"

But mad-crazy-yoga skills can only hold the boys' interest for so long, and so I took them outside for a little extra workout.  The boys have really started wrestling with each other since Joey's gotten bigger: they're like puppies, chasing each other, knocking each other overover, rolling around, and laughing and laughing and laughing. A family stopped to watch their antics: the boys were tussling on the ground, hugging and rolling around.  I just shrugged: "Schwingen."

"Ahhh, genau!" they responded, nodding and grinning. Oh, of course. My boys are integrated.

When we came back in, cold and hungry, I opened the fridge and sighed. "I don't know what to make, honey. Nothing's speaking to me."

"You know what we should do?" Dennis offered,  "We should set out a lot of little plates and dishes of things so that the kids can make their own little sandwiches. Peanut butter, honey, cheese, sausage...they'll love it." And so that's what we did, Dennis putting on a little Dean Martin and me lighting some candles to add a little je ne sais quoi. And love it they did. The kids acted as though they'd been invited to a high tea party, simply not believing their good fortune.

Now, having read all that, I think you'll understand why I insist on taking a paragraph or two to sing Dennis's praises. If you go back and read, it's astounding how little time Dennis has taken for himself this year. Two or three afternoons, maybe, in ten months.  And he's not just present: he plays with the kids, and comforts them, and reads with them always, and answers their incessant questions thoughtfully and fully. (My approach is closer to cartoon Calvin's dad: "How do light bulbs work? Magic!")

And, Dennis can stand on his head!

Today was a really quiet day, but it was a wonderful day, too: for whatever reason, I really noticed all that Dennis was doing for the kids, and it made me so proud of this man that I married. He's an amazing father. I have lucky, lucky kids.

And even Joey, someday, will realize that.