Holiday gifts from a kids point of view

My girls were playing Santa and Mrs Claus tonight (yes, we're Jewish and celebrate Hanukah but that's a subject for another post). There were flying their sleigh around the living room delivering toys to all their babies (their dolls).

They flew into the kitchen and asked my wife what she wanted for Christmas. She said a Barbie doll. They told her that Barbies were for kids but they had a nice salad maker or waffle maker or coffee maker if she wanted one of those.

I was at least quick enough to ask for power tools when they flew in my direction.

Bouncing kids back and forth

My wife and I brought the girls to a holiday party at our clubhouse last night (to be clear, this clubhouse is more hunting lodge than it is golf clubhouse). Maybe 100 people there, about 20 of them under 4 feet tall and less than 7 years old.

As different as all these kids are, the one thing they had in common is that they get bounced around like pinballs while they run and the adults move around the room. It usually happens when 2 or more adults are talking and one of them turns and takes a step to grab some more food or get another glass of wine. 9 out of 10 times, there's a kid zooming past them just at the right moment.

The kid bounces off the adult's leg, takes 2 wobbly side steps while getting his balance back and keeps on going.

Do it often enough and you get a free ball.

Macaroni and Cheese

Grace is in one of those phases where she'll only eat two things, yogurt and mac and cheese.

So last week, we're coming home from a week in Orlando on the Amtrak Autotrain (don't ask, it's just one of those thing). Dinner is at 7:00 prompt in the dining car and the menu is pretty simple. 4 or 5 meals for adults. And for the kids, it's Choo Choo Chicken Fingers. Which of course, Grace won't eat. But one of the adult means comes with a side of mac and cheese. So being the good dad, I order that and figure I'll trade the mac and cheese for  come Choo Choo Chicken and all will be good.

Except the waitress comes back and informs us that they are out of mac and cheese. They're glad to substitute mashed potatoes. But there won't be any mac and cheese on this trip.

Of course, Grace is not happy. And neither am I. I start getting into it with the waitress. "How can you be out of mac and cheese? We just left Florida. Can't the guy who's only job is to make sure we have mac and cheese just do his job right for once? What's my daughter going to eat now?"...and so on.

Which is all just plain asinine. Like it's Amtrak's fault Grace won't eat anything else right now.

Would have been nice if I realized that while we were still on the train.

Dichotomy of being a dad

We took our second trip to Disney World yesterday. The first time was 19 months ago when my daughters were 2 years 8 months old (Grace) and 13 months old (Ella). Grace is now 4 and a few months and Ella is 2 and a half.

It's not a surprise how much changes in 19 months, especially with kids so little. But when I think about what they were like the first time we were there and watch how they were this time, it really drives the point home.

First time at Disney, Ella could barely walk. We've got video of her taking 4 or 5 steps before flopping down into my wife sitting cross-legged on the floor followed by everyone celebrating like it was New Years Eve. Tonight, we raced from the car to the room so she could get to the  potty before it was too late. That's another big change. Last year, diapers. This year we had to get of 3 or 4 lines at just the wrong time.

The changes with Grace were also just as apparent. Last year, we waited on line for 30 minutes and met Mickey and Minnie. She was thrilled (although the video does show I may have been more excited at the moment than she was). This year, we had breakfast with 5 princesses, waited on line to meet 3 more and made reservations 6 months ago for tomorrow's makeover at the Bippity Boppity Boutique. Which will cost me $100 on top of the $50 Sleeping Beauty dress we had to buy her to go along with the transformation.

I love the changes. I love how they're growing. I love how excited Ella gets every time she makes it to the potty in time. And I also love every word that she still mispronounces (be-rella for umbrella). I love that Grace now tells me exactly how she wants her ice cream and won't eat it any other way. And I love that she still falls asleep exhausted laying on my chest at the end of the day.

But I know there are also things that I've loved about them that they've grown out of. Things that I can remember how adorable they were which they won't be doing any more. I'd never want to freeze them in time. But sometimes, I wish I could.

And then, when Ella finally said "umbrella" yesterday and I said "Aww, now I'm sad. You're getting to be a big girl", Grace replied with "It's okay, Dada. I'll always love you"