Proud

That’s how I have been feeling lately.

I know that I’ve complained a lot about the girls always fighting HERE and HERE, but this is going to be a little bit different. I picked them up from school the other day and took them to my mom’s for supper. I did this for a couple of reasons; one of them being that Mrs. B needed some quiet time to get a bunch of work done. The main reason I was going out was to build a chair for Mom so she would have a mate to her Bear Chair that we picked up at Costco for $50.

It doesn't come with the ottoman, but come on, can't you find something else to put your feet on?

These are really good chairs for fifty bucks, and quite easy to put together. I don’t really know much about chair prices, but I’ve seen this style selling for upwards of $200 for the handmade ones. This leads me to believe that they won’t last as long, but I’ve been told by Gadget that if you tighten up the screws each year, you’ll at least get a few out of them. The best part is that they’re made in Canada, and you don’t need a pickup truck to get them home.

So, back to my story, I take the girls out to Mom’s, and start building the chair. It’s not like I don’t have an agenda, because Mom has a good steam cleaner, and we had some ketchup and blood stains that needed to be taken out of the van. Don’t ask.

 

While I was building, Mom started cleaning, but apparently the van was filthier than just the two stains, so she decided to clean the floors and all of the seats. Score! While we were there, the girls finished their homework, and watched something on the TV. I was in the garage, and when the door opened I heard “Nana, may I please have a drink?”, and a little bit later, “Nana, may I please use the markers and crayons?”.

As I stood there with a smug grin on my face I realized that all the crappy fighting and bickering was minor. The fact that I have to constantly prove points by not giving them things that they ask for, because they don’t say please, didn’t matter at that particular time. There was even a time where one of them asked for something, and didn’t say please, but the other added it in, almost seamlessly.

Also, there was no fighting. Well, there may have been fighting, but we never heard any of it, and that’s all that matters, right? I was so proud when Mom came out and said how cute and well behaved they were. I know that it wasn’t me that made them like that, but it still feels pretty amazing to know that they know how to act in other people’s homes.

They other thing I am very proud of them for, is their creative talent. O is a very good visual artist, and is quite creative with her words. She retains things remarkably well, they both do for that matter. Mrs. B took O and her friend to the Picasso exhibit at the Art Gallery of Ontario a few weeks ago, and said that the girls really did well there. She said that they did an audio tour, and both girls took a great interest in learning about the artist, his works, and his life. I knew this to be true, when Mrs. B was looking at the program she had gotten from her tour, and O, from the back seat, said “That’s the *blah blah blah* painting.”. Mrs B.checked her program, and sure enough it was the painting she had mentioned. She then said some other things about the painting, and how it came to be, and touched on why she remembered these facts.

Seriously. WTF is that?

I was pretty impressed. I look at Picasso, and think that he must have been high for the majority of his career, but these artsy-fartsy types see something else. I’m glad they do, because it’s going to take all kinds of minds when the revolution starts.

T is a different kind of artist. She loves to draw as well, but she impresses me more as a dancer. She loves anything to do with dancing, choreography, and the mechanics of how these things work. She will practice and practice a dance for a song, but it isn’t the one that the singer is doing, it’s her own dance that she thinks should go with the music. That takes a bit of talent to be able to see a finished product, just from listening to a song. As I said, she loves to draw as well, and I’m sure that she will progress nicely in that field, but for now, she’ll be my tiny dancer.

As I sit here listening to “That’s miiiiiiiine, give it back. GIVE IT BAAAAAACK.” I am smiling. You know those contradictory smiles, where you are trying really hard to remember the times that they were so good, but those memories are starting to fade because of the shreiky voices that are starting to waft up the stairs.

I just have to get the praises recorded next time, and whenever the fighting starts, I can play them back and smile to myself as I block out the noise. I have marveled at Mrs. Birdman for her ability to “block” before, and she has assured me that I will learn it in time. I can now see that she is correctemundo in her assumptions.

The thing is that the good far outweighs the bad, and I love those kids so much it makes my brain sore. As far as I’m concerned, things are on the right track.

Little pitchers have big ears, but don’t you stop to count the years,

Birdman

P.S. Have you ever almost died?

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6 thoughts on “Proud

  1. What do you mean by “almost died?” I can think of two such occasions where death would have been the outcome had I not gone to the hospital. Does that count?

    • Sure does. Do you know something crazy? I just had to moderate this comment, but you’ve been a reader since the start. YOU HAVE NEVER COMMENTED? Bastard.

  2. I am so proud of you as well. Embracing step fatherhood the way you have. I can tell how much you love those girls. You are an amazing man Bird.

    Almost died? Yup. I was hit by a car when I was a kid. Thank goodness it only resulted in a couple of stitches and a concussion.

    Let me modify a bit. mActually, I hit the car. Being a dare devil on my bike.

    See you in 8 days.

    • Thanks for the praise. I don’t get near enough of it. :s I ran into a bus once and broke my nose. I’ll tell the story some time.

  3. I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. When you were at your mom’s house and she commented on how well behaved the girls were, you mention that you didn’t have anything to do with that. But, I bet you did (and do) have way more to do with that than you think. Yes, you’ve only been in their lives a short time, but (building off of something Dustin said), stepping up to be a stepfather is no easy task. You’ve taken the time to REALLY get to know each girl – recognizing each one’s distinct talent/personality. I know they are lucky to have a dad like you.

    As for the death question. Nope. My life is fairly calm in that respect. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. I have enough other drama going on. I don’t need to add that new level.

    • Awwww, shucks. Thanks, Missy, that’s sweet of you to say, seeing as I am the one that whups ’em when they speak out of turn.

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