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.
The wind and snow were whipping around my house like a SNOW-NADO!
— Sullivan in his weather journal for school
At the risk of sounding like a monster, I must report that today I lashed out in anger without warning at Sullivan by throwing his flying paper dragon hard at his upper chest after he flew it past my face a few times while I was trying to master parts of the above Choral Society piece.
He was astonished and on the verge of tears. Thankfully, I realized my error immediately, apologized quickly and profusely, and embraced him. He forgave me without hesitation.
In the end, it’ll be a good example to him of how to deal with sin. But aie, that look on his face.
I’ve got to get back to rehearsing when no one is around.
To further Sullivan’s penchant for architecture and craft, and at his request, we made paper airplanes today in my office for our date. We also did some tangrams right before bed—and he beat me in making the square.
Éa, most of these eight swim class evenings you roamed the bleachers while Mom watched. I spectated with her twice, although the second time I came, I mostly meandered through the school lobby with you, appreciating athletic trophies and girls basketball practice with you. You were mesmerized by the girls’ dribbling skills.
Since I’m always looking for lessons, I’ll say the the main lesson I gain from yesterday evening is that there is value to meandering with someone. I felt closer to you, Éa, because of the twenty minutes we spent ambling through the North Building lobby.
Sullivan, You enjoyed yourself in the water very much. And you made friends easily, including Lily, a fellow Houservillian with purple hair with whom you always ran out ahead of Mom and Lily’s grandma after class was over and you were heading home.
Scott: Sullivan, I’ve been meaning to talk with you about your reading habits.
Sullivan: You’ll never stop me.
Daddy, no you don’t go to work! Éa and I go to work! [pause] Oh. Well, I guess if Éa and I were the one who went to work, we’d be poor.
— Sullivan, in a gradually self-aware attempt to keep Scott from going to work that day
The front cover of a birthday card Sullivan drew for Cassie’s birthday. Featuring a black-capped chickadee drawn from a photo.
Yeah, but I got two in a row.
— Sullivan, after losing at tic-tac-toe to Grandpa
Carla: Wow, it looks like it was cold last night.
Sullivan: Well, I was as warm as a bear slumbering in the basement.
My son, youre five,
And I’m so glad youre alive.
It’s worth a lot of mirth,
The day you came to Earth.
So Mom baked a shark-tastic cake
And planned a party for your sake
With piñata, food and skating today
and friends who gather round to say:
We love you very much, my boy.
MAY ALL YOUR DAYS BE FULL OF JOY!
My daughter was over the other day when Scott pulled into your driveway with the kids. As Sullivan was getting out, she said, “Ma! That boy has no coat on!” I said, “You’re lucky he has shoes on.” Then Éa came out of the car…
— Neighbor Janet
“I need a carrot.”
— Sullivan, reaching into the fridge to grab the bag of baby carrots after eating a sour gumball for the first time
While reading the Cheerios box, Sullivan stops and says, “Mom, what’s cancer?” Carla replies that it’s a sickness that kills a lot of people and that Cheerios is trying to raise money to help fund research to find a cure. In turn, Sullivan says, “Yeah, because pink doesn’t really work, right?” Confused, Carla asks, “What?” Sullivan replies slyly as if telling her something that only a few select people know, “Liiiike, people wear those pink shoes and gloves…but it doesn’t really cure their cancer.”
“When you come back to life after death, it’s sort of like God pushed you out of His tummy.”
— Sullivan, unprompted
as reported by Carla:
Just after sunset yesterday, I yelled for Scott to come see this neat swarm of tiny ants that I found in the driveway. We noticed one example of the stark difference in our kids’ personalities when Sullivan stood looking from a safe distance while Éa lay right on the blacktop inches from the mess of ants and poked at them with her fingers.
When I followed Éa in her boldness and looked up close myself, I noticed that these little ants weren’t after some food item as we had first assumed, but were actually fighting each other. I described what I had seen to the others, saying, “They’re fighting! It’s an all-out war! They’re in piles on top of each other and some are carrying away the dead.” Scott explained to the kids that this must be two distinct any colonies fighting for territory or something.
Then our kids displayed another fine example of their polar opposite personalities. Sullivan folded his hands and looked up to the sky with his happy bright blue eyes reflecting the clouds and prayed, “Dear God, please help these ants stop fighting each other.” Meanwhile, Ea moved even closer to the ants, with her brown eyes wide open and a big smile on her face, put her forehead right into the swarm and said with joy, ”Bonk heads!”
“Daddy, do you have any seedlings left?”
— Sullivan, on if we can have more kids
“How you say Thanksgiving in French is … ‘Franksgiving.’”
— Sullivan, giving his parents language lessons in the car on our way downtown
“But Dad, what is God? What is he? Is he just a big huge blump of air?”
— Sullivan, overhearing Carla and me talk about God’s kingdom