Sullivan: Yeah, even Mimi’s inflatable balls are giant! [LAUGHTER] Put that on Familypants, Dad!
Scott: I’m not sure that I will…
If I’m ever going to become a successful scientist, I’m going to need less hair.
— Sullivan
[five minutes after bedtime lights out]
Sullivan: Mom?
Carla: Yes?! [long pause]
Sullivan: Why, when, or how did burritos originate?
After Sullivan switched from his ghost costume to wearing my peacoat for Halloween:
Neighbor: Who are you? Sullivan: I’m my dad.
Sullivan: Mom, come look at my parfait!
Carla: Oh, cute! It’s like a happy face.
Sullivan: Well, I was trying to make it look like a icosahedron.
We are ready to send Everett and Oak home. But we’re not. I’m sure these are the typical feelings of a foster parent. Life is going to be different. Quieter. This evening without them because they’re with Mommy and Daddy makes that sure. But as Everett would surely reciprocate, “I will miss you, Everett.” And I will miss you, Oak. We still have three weeks with them, so let’s make them count.
We asked Éa and Sullivan today whether they’d like to foster again. Sullivan said, “I’d like a year.” And Éa said, “Yeah, in like, five thousand weeks.”
A home is fuller if you’re stretched for the sake of relationships. Let us dig in to more people. Let us “love [our] enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return” (Luke 6:35). Then I will live without regret.
You’re more helpful than a rabid dog!
— Sullivan, thanking a friend who was helping clean up
I feel better dancing when I’m on a precarious rock wall.
— Sullivan, explaining why he was dancing all by himself on a rock wall outside the tent at Megan’s wedding
One thing that pleases me—well, two: First, Mommy and Daddy snuggles. And second, rock dust on my hands.
— Sullivan
I’m ashamed to say this for my gender, but men sweat 40% more than women.
— Sullivan, responding to Lucy after she pointed out a sweaty jogger while they both rode in the car to her house
I am proud of my engineering-minded boy, this being an invention of his for transferring goods from his bunk to Éa’s and back, constructed of old box staples, string left over from the driveway sealers, paper, and electrical tape.
My favorite thing is to make that piano reveberate [sic] like an explosive bāss violin.
— Sullivan, pronouncing “bass” like the fish, explaining what he loves about playing his new instrument
Hey, Mom, I don’t know what would be worse: getting punched on the back of your head and falling on your face, or getting punched in the face and falling on the back of your head.
— Sullivan, breaking several minutes of in-car silence at 10 PM on a road trip to Pittsburgh
Carla: What were you dreaming about, Sully?
Sullivan: Different metals that are essential to life.
Carla: Oh! What metals are essential to life?
Sullivan: Well, I wasn’t really dreaming about the names. I was dreaming about their colors and crystal habits.
**Donna: ** Sullivan’s mom would volunteer [in the library] for a Tuesday, but would need to bring Sullivan’s sister. Is that okay?
Mardi: Yep! If she’s anything like Sullivan, she could probably help out too!
Donna: We are a go!
Sullivan: Was there a time when doctors recommended smoking?
Carla: Maybe somebody recommended it at some point, I don’t know.
Scott: Certainly not since the ’50s.
Sullivan: The ’50s haven’t even come yet, people!
Scott: We’re talking about the 1950s, Sullivan.
Your bellybutton looks a bit like Moshulu’s butt.
— Sullivan, comparing Scott’s navel to our calico’s anus
Dad! In heaven, I bet that don’t have any rifles.
— Sullivan, without prompting, while being towed along through Spring Creek Park on a snow saucer
For our date tonight, Sullivan and I purchased the Estes’ Shuttle Express model rocket kit today from HobbyTown USA over in the Benner Pike Shops. He was delighted, and when we returned home, we got started right away. It was gratifying to contribute toward something about which he is avid.
Plus, we found out that there is a maker space in State College now that has open houses every Wednesday evening. Sullivan and I could finally have a medium between us that will help us connect.
The most significant thing that happened was that Sullivan and I finally managed to get the Yankee into the sky. It helps that I had to climb fifteen feet up into the first oak on the right side of the paved park path to retrieve the rocket after the launch.
We will both continue the hobby. That bodes well for our relationship. With Éa, I’ll always have music, but with Sully, I’ve been searching for a material thing to serve as a connecting point for us. May we be like that pair of clips on either side of the starter, side by side launching stuff into the sky.
Carla: Sullivan, you have to take a shower. I don’t want to hear any more whining about it. Get in there.
Sullivan [walking away into the bathroom]: Aw, maaan! Fuck. Fuck fuck.
Carla: Sullivan, what did you just say?
Sullivan: Haha! I didn’t want to say “shucks” so I disguised it by saying “puck”—or no wait: “fuck.” Yeah, that was it.
I enjoy watching my family do things I suspect other families do not but which I consider healthy. In this photo, all three of them are leaning out or about to lean out past the boardwalk rail in searching of jewelweed pods ready to pop.
It turns out the seeds are edible!
On our Saturday morning errands, feeling proudly countercultural, I suggested the kids walk ahead of me to Barnes & Noble while I returned spoons Carla had bought from Ross Dress for Less. Sullivan’s eyes widened with excitement at the prospect. So they did it, following the sidewalk as much as they could, as instructed.
In my perfect world, there would be sidewalks connecting Ross to Barnes & Noble, and it would not be extraordinary for a six-year-old to walk to a building three hundred feet away from his dad.
(The photos is from our walk back to the car together.)
I like Shardas. And FarmFest.
Carla: Are you ready for your [chickens] meeting tonight?
Scott: Yeah, it’s just a brainstorm and catch-up meeting.
Sullivan: Ketchup? Ketchup is for eggs. Ketchup? Ketchup is for eggs.