Thank you, Dad.

As we approach Father's Day, I could go on and on about what a wonderful father I have -- and how good he has been to me, consistently, throughout my life.

It's clear, for example, in the man I chose to be the father of my own children just what kind of example my Dad set. And you read this week about how Dad drove an hour just to bring me a plant on my birthday.

I'm a lucky, lucky Daddy's girl and I hope Dad knows how thankful I am for all that he is and does in my life.

But I don't think I thank my Dad enough for the wonderful things he does for everyone else in his life.

How he spends so much quality time with my 97-year-old Granddad at least four times a week, does all his grocery shopping, takes him to the doctor and to the bank, helps him write out his bills and fills his prescriptions, leaves him food to eat, bathes and shaves him. And most importantly, he just provides company -- watching sports or the news for hours on end (sometimes falling asleep from exhaustion) -- so that Granddad won't feel so alone.

How he remains at my brother Rashad's beck and call -- responding to all his needs -- even late-night calls for directions because Rashad's memory is so bad after his accident. How he (and my Mom) still support my siblings, well into adulthood, even though they should probably have stopped a long time ago.

Instead, Dad gives more and more, mostly because he wants to be sure his grandchildren are OK.  He often stops whatever he's doing to actively love his grandchildren: Making Cary feel good about his glasses, going to Kalonji's parent-teacher conferences, or Grandparents' Day at Russy's school. (And we can't even talk about how much he dotes on Matty.)

Last night, he went to my sister's house to give her youngest son, Kwahli, a haircut, because today was his kindergarten graduation. He brought over his clippers, sat him on the counter, and buzzed away. 

And look how handsome Kwahli was!

Dad (and Mom) also bought his suit and tie and shoes.

His sisters, Aminah and Alahna love him!

And of course, Dad was there today, cheering Kwahli on.

Because that's what my Dad does. He shows up when you need him. He's there for the things that matter.

I'm so glad my kids have this kind of example in their father -- and their grandfather.

Happy Father's Day to both of you amazing men.

We all love you!

Random wintery, pre-Christmas thoughts

Random thoughts:


When did Clair learn to say "sure?" -- You ask her to do something, she says, "Sure!" It is too funny. She also likes to tell "stories" using mostly nouns, but some verbs, like "crying" or "sleeping" or "falled." I love having conversations with her -- can't wait to hang out with my chatty girl when she's older. P.S. Can't believe she will be 2 in February. Good grief.
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Still no tree in the Davis house. In fact, there are pumpkins sitting on my front porch (covered in snow) and scarecrows on my dining room window sills. I don't know when (or if) we're going to take Christmas card photos -- and then address and send the cards to friends and family. And I haven't pulled out the Christmas music yet. I am really behind this year. Like, woefully. (P.S. How do pumpkins last so long?)
***

I really enjoyed this newspaper article about what toys inspired girls who eventually became engineers/scientists:

I especially loved the connection between Legos and code-writing (something which I totally wish I understood anything about. Even just a little html would be nice to know.)

Note to Santa: Add more Legos to the Christmas bounty!
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It has really gotten cold here - today won't even make it past 30-degrees. One super-annoying thing about winter weather: fastening two big boys into their safety seats with their tremendous, puffy coats on. Seriously, I break out into a sweat trying to get them buckled in and always have to stop myself from saying words no 3-year-old should hear. Today, after my frustrating struggles to get them clicked in, the boys spilled the beans that when Daddy takes them to school, sometimes he doesn't buckle them in. "He says, 'It's OK. We're just going around the corner!'" they told me.
Tsk, tsk, Daddy! Someone's getting a lump of coal in their stocking this year.
(I also had to laugh that they totally told on him! Hahaha! You can't do anything around kids this age. They will let the cat out of the bag. Trust.)
***

I am almost finished with Book 2 of Game of Thrones. Reading these books is definitely an investment, but really worth it. Even if you're not a fan of fantasy, if you like well-written, character-driven stories, with intricate, fast-moving plots and great dialogue (especially from Tyrion, the Imp) you would like these books. Take it from me. And actually, the "fantasy" part is somewhat incidental, I think. But you guys need to read 'em to see for yourself.

Speaking of GoT, I called my Dad this morning on my way to work and we had a little mini bookclub, talking about where I am in the books and Dad's thoughts on it, etc. It was really nice. I absolutely love being able to talk about books (or anything) with my Dad. One of the best parts of my life.
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My friend Olivia wrote a Christmas letter that was so funny, I am determined to write one for this blog. It won't be as good as hers, but I am pledging right now that I am going to get down the highlights of 2013 in one place. Just as soon as I finish this MONSTER report at work, toss the pumpkins, get a Christmas tree, decorate the house, come up with something to put on the front of a Christmas card, and drive the family insane with repeated playings of Donny Hathaway's "This Christmas."

After all that, if my end-of-the-year letter comes next year, I'm sure you'll understand.

Big things poppin'....

The title of this post is an ode to my old-school days of (sometimes) listening to rap music, which I rarely do anymore, because my iPod has been taken over by Justin Roberts (thanks, Angel), Dan Zanes, Elizabeth Mitchell (thanks, Tahira), Elmo, Cookie Monster, Tag, Leap and Lily and a host of other shrill-voiced characters.

But once upon a time, T.I. rapped about "Big things poppin' and little things stoppin'..." and I did a little shoulder dance at my desk and felt cool. Today I still feel pretty cool, because of a few big things happening in my little family.

1. Clair is 15-months today! She is the most opinionated, cranky/cheerful child ever to live. She is going to be a force to reckon with, and I am just going to pray that she uses her powers for good.
She has 4 words: "ott" (for hot); "uh-oh"; "mama" and "dada." Most of the time, we are all dada -- even Cary and Dean. She has started occasionally saying "unh-unh" for no. But usually she just screams angrily at all of us all day long, and swipes and swats at us for some offense unknown to anyone but her. She climbs the stairs like a pro, but can't get down, and can get down off the sofa but can't get up. She has stranger anxiety like none other, and prefers me to anyone else in the world. This is sweet, somewhat, but you know...It'd be nice for other people to see her laugh and act silly instead of just cry and cling to me all the time. But I guess this will come. I hope it will. She is snuggly and sweet (when she wants to be) and loves, loves, loves to dance and read books. She is my absolute sweetie.

I need to take more photos of my silly sweetie!

 2. Cary and Dean have been practicing on their balance bikes!

I won't say who is doing a better job with the bikes so far, but this picture is an indication.

What's taking you so long???

One day this week at school drop-off, Dean climbed out of the car, went and stood by this tree and said, "Mommy, you have to take a picture." I don't know if this is for his secret Facebook page, or just what, but I called Cary over and did what I was told.

I have no idea why he needed this moment captured for all eternity.

 3. I have not done anything toward my goal of getting someone to accept my children's book idea, since getting rejection after rejection after rejection.

Thanks, "Submissions Department."

But I got this fortune in my cookie the other night when I brought home takeout for Lester and me after a loooong board meeting.

I wish it said, "Someone is going to publish your book." But I'll take what I can get.

 And now I think I will get back in the saddle! Must. Keep. Moving. Forward.

 4. Speaking of getting back in the saddle, Beth and Tam will be happy to know that I made an appointment to see my doctor and get my blood sugar, cholesterol, and Vitamin D levels tested. I go tomorrow morning! So yay for that.

5. And not to brag about my husband anymore, because seriously, it really is an embarrassment of riches, but I have to get down for history's sake the amazing 40 for 40 gift he gave me yesterday.

I came home from work feeling tired and sick and wanting to take Tylenol, hurry through the night's activities and go to bed. But Lester told me to get freshened up because we were going out! I honestly had to talk myself into getting excited, because I was just so beat down, but who can resist a man who is so incredibly sweet? So off to take a shower I went.
When I was ready, Lester went upstairs saying he was going to wash up and throw his clothes on. I stayed downstairs and played with the kids, when there was a knock on the door. I opened it and much to my surprise, my Dad was standing there! I thought HE was the babysitter and I immediately turned to ask Lester, "Are you insane?"
That's when I noticed that Lester was still in his shorts and T-shirt.
Turns out: He wasn't my date after all -- my Dad was!
Lester had gotten us tickets to see a play at Center Stage and arranged for my Dad to take off from teaching his evening class so he could go!
It was the SWEETEST thing! I still get all goosebumpy thinking about how he pulled that off. I was totally, 100-percent surprised.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any better -- he handed my Dad a card, which we read in the car. It was all about how Lester knows the close bond my Dad and I have and how much I miss talking to and spending time with him. He said in the note, "I thought I'd give you both the best gift I could think of: The gift of time together." And then, as if my mascara wasn't running enough already, he then wrote, "And Dad, I really hope that one day Clair and I have the same close relationship that you and Tanika have."

I swear, I think I saw a little tear in Dad's eye, too, after reading that card. (Admit it Dad, you cried a little!)

The night was a lot of fun. Dad and I really enjoyed the play (Beneatha's Place) and stayed out in the car afterward talking about any and everything until about 11:30!

This shirt dress looks much better when I stand up straight, I swear.

I came in the house and begged Lester not to give me anything else, because that was the ULTIMATE in my eyes. The ultimate! But he insists there's more. He keeps saying, "Babe, don't worry, these are small things!"

But this whole exercise has proven again and again that the small things mean the absolute most -- in case I ever forget.

Who needs big things poppin'...when the little things are this magnificent?

Tastes like chicken (and also, why I can never go out at night again)

Overheard at the Davis house at dinner, trying out a new (to-the-kids) food:

Dean: Mommy, I don't like lamb.
Me: How do you know? You haven't tasted it.
Dean: I did taste it.
Me: Really? What's it taste like then?
Dean: (Thinking)...Chicken.

(That kid cracks me up.)

And then later on before bed:

Cary: Mommy, when kids go to sleep, do parents leave?
Me: No. We just go to bed.
Cary: You don't drive away?
Me: No, honey. We're too tired. We just go straight to bed.
Cary: OK, Mommy. Don't leave!

And...now you know why I can never go on a date with my husband and leave the sleeping kids with a babysitter.

P.S. Happy, happy, happy birthday to my Dad! He turns 61 today. (Such a young man!)

As proof that I have always been a Daddy's girl, here is a poem I wrote for my Dad when I was a teenager. I can't remember how old, but this was clearly during those tumultuous years when I was aching for more freedom and he was shutting. it. down. We fought a lot then -- but you can tell from this poem (unearthed somehow by my sister last month) that I very much missed him.

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("Dumb Company" was the name of my imaginary friend when I was a little girl Yes, I had an imaginary friend. And he was "dumb," not because he was stupid, but because he couldn't talk. Duh!)

Now that I'm a busy parent, I hardly ever get a chance to talk to Dad anymore (we used to talk every day) and I still miss him.

My Dad will always be so big...so big...in my heart.

Throwback Thursday stories

On Instagram (where I mostly lurk, but sometimes post), there's something called "Throwback Thursday." On Thursdays, many Instagrammers post old pictures of themselves or friends or moments from the past.

I really enjoy TBT, especially when there's a story behind the photo that the poster chose to unearth.

I never have any old photos to post, because the scanner we have at home is garbage, and also because most of my old photos, for some reason, still live at my parents' house.

But this week, my Mom had me look on the Facebook page of one of her friends, because he had posted old photos of her and my Dad from fall 1972 at Tufts University, before I was even conceived.

These pictures are priceless.

Check out my Mom, her earrings and her Afro:

She was 18 here. Eighteen!

She looks so much like Cary here, I can't get over it.

 

And here's my Dad and his Afro and his 20-year-old physique:

I have no idea who this random woman is, looking so happy to be squeezed by my Afro'ed Daddy.

Anyway, these pictures make me ask so many questions.

What was my Mom thinking when she was staring into space like that?
How did she get her baby-fine hair into an Afro?
What was going on in their lives and in the world at this time?

In other words, I love the photos, but I really want the story behind them!

Who is that chick with my Dad? Who are those people in the photos behind them? Were Mom and Dad dating yet at this point? Was Mom always so effortlessly beautiful? What is the story??

This is why my Mom and Dad should have had a BLOG back in the day! I would have devoured every word.