This morning was quite surreal.
Firstly I was lying in bed at 3.30am waiting to get up to go for a morning run. I could smell the delightful stench of the Hood sour cream factory mixing with the dull, hop-like waft from the local grain elevator at the feedway store. Just as I was about to leap out of bed and run off down Rt. 5 my wife got out of bed. She just felt like going to work early. She gets a work-mania every few months or so and this was one of the nights she had been lying in bed mulling over something she wanted to do. Being awake anyway she figured why not go to work and dig into some of the ideas she had been obsessing about in the darkness. At least that what she told me. Frankly it sounds like the behavior of a junkie or someone hoping to get a quickie in with their bit on the side before the day begins. Or maybe all three at the same time.
Luckily for me my wife's morning subtlety is as soft and delicate as her whispering. Meaning my daughter woke up due to the lights being flashed into her eyes and asked if it was time to get up. Thankfully she fell back to sleep with a little cuddling from me. my son though shot awake right after the wife made it outside to her car. From the strength of his crying when he woke up he was having quite the nightmare. I tried comforting him but it's no use when you wake up from a nightmare - time to get up. Once downstairs my son wanted me to hold him in just that way that is likely the most uncomfortable position you could be in. In this case sat up on the couch with him held in the air in front of me - but not held against me. Each time I would weaken enough to lower him down he'd balance himself by driving his toes like a pitch fork into my groin. I can't tell if it was because it helped him stay upright, or it had the same mental reasoning as whipping a horse to make it try harder. It invoked images of Alberto Gonzalez and Lindy England.
An hour later my daughter was shrieking down the stairs for me to come up stairs and lie down. She didn't want to sleep either. She'd had some realizations of her own that had startled her awake - shaking her to her very core. She wasn't crying, but she was notably upset. I tried to gently lie with her till she woke up enough for me to see if she would snap into happiness (she does that a lot) but she didn't. Instead - while I desperately tried to stop her brother from crushing the two of us/furiously licking us/violating her teddy bear - she furrowed her brow and told me, "Daddy - last night I realized that my name isn't Evelyn." Well this could only be interesting. Because while I was pretty sure her name is Evelyn she did seem pretty confident it wasn't. I was beginning to doubt it myself. Then she said, "My real name is ELEPHANT!!!" and then started violently trumpeting and bouncing around the bed.
While painful it should have signaled that she hadn't woken up depressed. Except she went to the bathroom and came back dour and more annoyed then when I'd first come into the room. Then she hid under the blankets and nearly cried. I tried the humor-angle by mock-yelling that he brother had his trunk out and was about to vacuum up a peanut. Nope - she honked. That's something she does when she's annoyed or upset as a control measure. It stops her lashing out. It took about five minutes to convince her to be comfortable enough to tell me what was up. Then she awkwardly told me that she didn't sleep very well because school was over, but - and I quote - "you left your eyebrows on my school bus and now they're gone forever."
We then dawdled about for the early morning - both kids desperate to sit on top of me the entire time - before heading out to today's playground. I took a bunch of videos and might put togetehr a local guide thing to playgrounds. That sounds somewhat handy to me. I did realize though after walking around the whole thing the first time that my natural inclination to notice the seedier side of things may not be everyone's flavor. Mostly because I realized I had seen one of those things like a tin can with a string you an speak into (and a child across the playground can talk to you) and instead of just saying what else I saw I ended up telling a tale about how some weirdo probably pisses into them just to be callous. Anyway - if I do that I'll let you know - although most of you would have no use for it.
Anyway - the playground completely changed my daughter into a happy orangutan. She loves chucking herself around.
Here's my son toughening up his scrotum on the Swedish-Massage slide.
And here's me using my athletic prowess to lift everyone's spirits.
Marvel at that.