Two days ago I discovered that one of the small, pink feet from Emma's doll bed was missing. The what of this story isn't important--just understand that what was missing was a pink piece of plastic perhaps the size of a thimble.
I asked the assembled children if anyone had seen this piece of plastic and Cordelia perked right up. "I know where it is," she said.
This surprised me because normally Cordelia's memory is spotty and her powers of observation come and go.
I asked her where she had seen it. She replied, "I can't describe it. I have to take you there."
So she took me by the hand and led me downstairs. Out into the garage. To the back of the garage. To the bottom shelf. Where she pulled out the big plastic tub we use to store swimming paraphrenalia. She then fished around to the bottom of the tub, in the far, back corner. And promptly produced the pink doo-hickey.
"How did that get here?" I asked.
"I put it there," she answered matter-of-factly. "It looked special to me so I put it there to keep it safe."
She scampered off and I immediately started to wonder what other items she has stashed around the house. Maybe we should keep Shannon's jewelry in a secure place? Or lock up the silver?
But the thing that struck me most is that of the kids, Cordelia remains the one with the deepest interior life. Cody tells you everything he's feeling. Emma, too. But with Cora, there are wheels within wheels.
Monday, September 12, 2016
Wednesday, September 7, 2016
Baseball Night In America
I think I said the other day that the PNats clinched a berth in the playoffs and Cody, Cora, and I got tickets. Well, tonight was Game 1 of their first series. It was scheduled for a 7:00 start, but a thunderstorm rolled through and the game was pushed back an hour. I almost bailed entirely--going at 8:00 would mean we'd get an hour at the park and it seemed almost cruel to bring the kids to their first truly meaningful game and then have to leave after a couple innings.
But then I thought of the immortal words of the great Danny Ainge: Come on! It's the playoffs!
And we went. And again, magic.
The field box seats really are amazing. I'm pretty sure Cody is ruined for ever going to a big-league park:
Because it's the playoffs, both teams lined up on the sidelines for introductions.
And then, when the PNats starting catcher, the superbly named Raudy Read ("Let's get Raudy!") was called out, he jogged past our box and handed the ball he'd been working with to Cody. Who went insane. I insisted he share with Cordelia and he was more than happy to do so. Because this wasn't an ordinary ball. It was a Playoff Ball.
But then, in the bottom of the first, a foul ball was hit to the first base side. The first base coach scooped it up and tossed it into our box. A guy in his late 50s caught it and walked right over to us and handed it to Cora. So two Playoff Balls.
Then Uncle Slam came by for a visit--and he signed Cora's ball.
And then, in the third inning, with the bases loaded, Cody was dialed in to the game. He looks like he's 12. Maybe one of my five favorite pictures of him, ever.
We left after the third inning. Both kids were super good sports about it. I tucked them into bed 30 minutes ago, a mere two hours after their bed time. On a school night. I'm sure I'll pay for this tomorrow. But again: Come on! It's the playoffs!
As I type this, the PNats lead 6-0 at the bottom of the 6th and play has been suspended again as another storm pushes through.
And I go to sleep happy in the knowledge that if they win their best-of-three series with Lynchburg, I already have our tickets to the next series.
But then I thought of the immortal words of the great Danny Ainge: Come on! It's the playoffs!
And we went. And again, magic.
The field box seats really are amazing. I'm pretty sure Cody is ruined for ever going to a big-league park:
Because it's the playoffs, both teams lined up on the sidelines for introductions.
And then, when the PNats starting catcher, the superbly named Raudy Read ("Let's get Raudy!") was called out, he jogged past our box and handed the ball he'd been working with to Cody. Who went insane. I insisted he share with Cordelia and he was more than happy to do so. Because this wasn't an ordinary ball. It was a Playoff Ball.
But then, in the bottom of the first, a foul ball was hit to the first base side. The first base coach scooped it up and tossed it into our box. A guy in his late 50s caught it and walked right over to us and handed it to Cora. So two Playoff Balls.
Then Uncle Slam came by for a visit--and he signed Cora's ball.
And then, in the third inning, with the bases loaded, Cody was dialed in to the game. He looks like he's 12. Maybe one of my five favorite pictures of him, ever.
We left after the third inning. Both kids were super good sports about it. I tucked them into bed 30 minutes ago, a mere two hours after their bed time. On a school night. I'm sure I'll pay for this tomorrow. But again: Come on! It's the playoffs!
As I type this, the PNats lead 6-0 at the bottom of the 6th and play has been suspended again as another storm pushes through.
And I go to sleep happy in the knowledge that if they win their best-of-three series with Lynchburg, I already have our tickets to the next series.
Monday, September 5, 2016
The Big Kids
Like Shannon, I'm so far behind that I've basically given up on trying to catch up. So here's the big Yellowstone trip, in all of the essentials, with very little left out. (Except for me teaching Cody how to play poker, and instilling in him (possibly?) a life-long love of gambling.) It's my hope that someday Cody will cherish this love letter.
On the subject of other events I've missed writing about, I took Cody and Cordelia to Belmar last week. It was wonderful. They went to the beach with Mary Beth, we all went to a minor league game at the Lakewood Blue Claws, which was one of Walter's favorite things to do. We went to the rides at Point Pleasant, and afterwards watched fireworks on the beach. With ice cream. We went to the retro arcade, where I played Gauntlet and X-Men--two games BJ and I played endlessly as kids--with my own children. Which was both wonderful and bracing.
Here's a random assortment of pictures:
That's the Tilt-a-Whirl and the Himalayan, for those of you keeping score at home. Two of Monika, BJ, and my favorite rides as kids. Cordelia loved everything we did. Except for the Gravitron (which is called the Starship 3000 at Point Pleasant).
Which brings us to today, Labor Day.
Last night I took C&C to see the PNats. It was a night game. It was a debacle. PNats gave up 7 in the first inning. The starting pitcher was relieved after only two-thirds of work. But we went back to the ballpark today because all the PNats had to do to clinch a playoff birth was win. And they did. That's half the story.
The other half is that Cordelia sat in a field box for the first time ever. And that she made it through a complete game for the first time ever. And during the 6th, a screaming foul ball came our way and bounced over us. It landed near a couple at the end of the box. We turned around and cheered for them. Then they called Cody over and gave him the ball. And he in turn gave it to Cordelia.
What makes this such a big deal is that beginning at last night's game, Cody talked endlessly about how he was sure to get another foul ball and he kept promising Cordelia that when he did, he was going to give it to her. When it happened, she looked like she'd been handed the Hope Diamond. It was magic.
Also magic: The PNats won, beating the mighty Myrtle Beach Pelicans (who are like 18 games over .500). They made the playoffs. And after the game, we marched over to the box office and bought field box seats for the entire run of playoff games. Three of them.
This, by the way, was from a magical night at the park earlier in the summer. It was the first field-box night for Cody and the PNats won with a walk-off home run in the 10th. And in the 7th, their first baseman flipped a ball to Cody, who was cheering for his catching of a routine foul ball like the guy had just caught the last out of the World Series. One of my favorite pictures, ever.
And here's the cherry on top for today: Cordelia is having trouble falling asleep. She's tried everything. She's unhappy. Her tummy hurts. What's a girl to do.
So I went upstairs, took her in my arms, sat on the edge of our bed and just rocked her. At first I whispered little sweet nothings to her, but then as she settled in I just rocked her silently with her head on my shoulder. Then, suddenly, she pulled away to be able to look me full in the face. And she whispered, "There's no love as strong as our love."
I agreed. She put her head back on my shoulder. And three minutes later she was sound asleep. I carried her to bed, lifted her into the top bunk, and kissed her forehead goodnight.
On the subject of other events I've missed writing about, I took Cody and Cordelia to Belmar last week. It was wonderful. They went to the beach with Mary Beth, we all went to a minor league game at the Lakewood Blue Claws, which was one of Walter's favorite things to do. We went to the rides at Point Pleasant, and afterwards watched fireworks on the beach. With ice cream. We went to the retro arcade, where I played Gauntlet and X-Men--two games BJ and I played endlessly as kids--with my own children. Which was both wonderful and bracing.
Here's a random assortment of pictures:
That's the Tilt-a-Whirl and the Himalayan, for those of you keeping score at home. Two of Monika, BJ, and my favorite rides as kids. Cordelia loved everything we did. Except for the Gravitron (which is called the Starship 3000 at Point Pleasant).
Which brings us to today, Labor Day.
Last night I took C&C to see the PNats. It was a night game. It was a debacle. PNats gave up 7 in the first inning. The starting pitcher was relieved after only two-thirds of work. But we went back to the ballpark today because all the PNats had to do to clinch a playoff birth was win. And they did. That's half the story.
The other half is that Cordelia sat in a field box for the first time ever. And that she made it through a complete game for the first time ever. And during the 6th, a screaming foul ball came our way and bounced over us. It landed near a couple at the end of the box. We turned around and cheered for them. Then they called Cody over and gave him the ball. And he in turn gave it to Cordelia.
What makes this such a big deal is that beginning at last night's game, Cody talked endlessly about how he was sure to get another foul ball and he kept promising Cordelia that when he did, he was going to give it to her. When it happened, she looked like she'd been handed the Hope Diamond. It was magic.
Also magic: The PNats won, beating the mighty Myrtle Beach Pelicans (who are like 18 games over .500). They made the playoffs. And after the game, we marched over to the box office and bought field box seats for the entire run of playoff games. Three of them.
This, by the way, was from a magical night at the park earlier in the summer. It was the first field-box night for Cody and the PNats won with a walk-off home run in the 10th. And in the 7th, their first baseman flipped a ball to Cody, who was cheering for his catching of a routine foul ball like the guy had just caught the last out of the World Series. One of my favorite pictures, ever.
And here's the cherry on top for today: Cordelia is having trouble falling asleep. She's tried everything. She's unhappy. Her tummy hurts. What's a girl to do.
So I went upstairs, took her in my arms, sat on the edge of our bed and just rocked her. At first I whispered little sweet nothings to her, but then as she settled in I just rocked her silently with her head on my shoulder. Then, suddenly, she pulled away to be able to look me full in the face. And she whispered, "There's no love as strong as our love."
I agreed. She put her head back on my shoulder. And three minutes later she was sound asleep. I carried her to bed, lifted her into the top bunk, and kissed her forehead goodnight.
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