You Smell!

Yes our boys have reached that age. It is now uncool for Mom and Dad to say “I love you” in a public setting. They might be shunned at school if one of their friends were to hear us express our love for them. Now as they get out the car for baseball, school, or a sleep over they no longer give me a hug from the back seat and say those three words. I’m lucky if I get a “Bye dad” or the male head nod (guys you know what I’m talking about.) They slam the car door, no longer looking back at me as I watch them disappear.

This kind of stung at first, knowing they were reaching that stage where their parents are seen as “uncool,” listen to weird music, hugs are unwanted and Kisses from mom are nearly toxic while in public.

After a little thought I came up with an idea, a code that I could say to them that would express my love for them while maintaining their sense of parental separation. Only they would know what I meant, none of their friends would get it.  “You smell!” I yelled as they left they car. They only turned for a moment shook their head and smiled.  “It means I love you,” and now I can yell it as loud as I want to and only they understand. “You smell too dad.” they laugh back, and I smile. I win this round of the war of coolness.


Playing at the Science Factory

It’s amazing to think that less then a year ago Keira was just learning to stand on her own.  Now she’s doing this:





Wordless Wednesday (Christmas Edition)

Toddler Communication

We are stepping into a brave new land where many parents’ hair have gone white with stress: The Toddler Years. Nothing is more apparent that we are in this new land than the constant chatter of a certain princess. Since we mostly skipped through the toddler years with the boys, this new stage first had us beaming with pride as Keira tried out her first words with “mama” and “dada”. Then along came a string of new words “banana”, “meow”, “Titus”…

Until finally one of the most feared words entered her vocabulary: “No.” On came the continual battles of Keira asserting her opinions on the world.

Daddy pulls her off the stairs:  “Daddy! No!”

New food that looks questionable: “No, no, no, no, no!!”

Papa decides to walk out of the room: “No! Papa! STOP!”

Uh oh…. “Stop??” And so our dearest Keira learned how to get her way by communicating her desires and leaving us in a fit of giggles. A monster was born. An exceptionally cute, talkative, opinionated and disaster toddler monster.

Just when I had myself questioning my sanity of trying to teach my daughter how to speak in the first place, Keira showed her exceptionally cute disastrous toddler monster powers could be used for good.

As I took a breath between lullabies as I sang her to sleep, Keira chimed in. Taking both my cheeks into her tiny little hands, she looked me in the eyes and began singing.

“Maaamma… baby, baby,… Maammma… awwweesoommmme…..”

I don’t need the toddler-parent decoder ring to know that this is love.

Wordless Wednesday

The Morning Assembly Line

In the past, mornings have consisted of the boys waking up for school at the same time, with Keira waking shortly after, creating a buzzing chaos every morning. With Anthony moving up to middle school this year and taking the earlier bus, the Deeds routine has become a “Morning Assembly Line”:

First thing in the morning, I wake up Anthony, nice and early, just as the sun is changing the clouds to pink. We take Zar Zar, and Titus out for their morning break. Anthony feeds the dogs. I feed Anthony. Anthony brushes teeth and hair and stumbles on to the early bus.

I grab a cup of coffee to take it up to Kirsten, who I’m hoping is in the shower and not running late. I wake up Ethan, run back in to the master bedroom to give Kirsten a morning kiss, before heading downstairs.

I feed Ethan, who in turn feeds the cats and waters the dogs (because that’s how they grow). Ethan jumps in the shower and makes just enough noise to wake the baby. I run upstairs under the pull of Keira’s singing giraffe to change the baby’s butt and get my morning snuggles (she’s such a daddy’s girl). I surprise Kirsten with baby giggles while she is getting ready until she looks at the clock and realizes she’s running late.

Keira and Daddy run downstairs to get Mommy her water, Coffee (it’s capitalized for a reason, folks), a banana and other food items for work. Kirsten runs out the door with a kiss to all as I tell her to drive safely (not slowly, just safely). Ethan tromps downstairs like a heard of elephants, usually with both dogs in tow. He grabs his backpack and heads out the door to the bus stop.

In two minutes, Ethan realizes he forgot his jacket, his lunch, his clarinet, or something else and comes running back towards the house. I hold out his missing item and off he goes. Keira and I watch the bus carry Ethan away from the picture window. I turn towards her and say “alright, little one, time to start OUR day.” She giggles and looks at me with her cute face and says “Daddy, noooo….”

Wordless Wednesday (First Day of School)

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