Seven

Seven years ago today, I earned the right to be grumpy.  Prior to that, I was just an a@#$hole.  As of 7 years ago tonight, I'm a "dad".

Dear Finn,

As you complete your seventh year, I want to make sure that you know this:  you are an amazing person.   And I'm not just saying that because you can read this now (though that doesn't hurt).

Allow me to be more specific:

• You are an amazing big brother, always making sure your sister has the appropriate dosage of Pro-Nuggets.
• You have an amazing sense of humor and you make me laugh every day.
• You are amazingly genuine, open and insightful about who you are as a person;  I'm so proud of your ability to talk about your vulnerability and what makes you happy and what makes you sad.  There are many grown-ups that could learn from you.
• You're really good at Legos.  Like, scary-good.

When we were joking around on the walkie talkies the other day, you said that I "make your life fun."  I hope so - it's one of my success criteria, along with keeping you from picking your nose and getting you to lean over your plate.  It would be good to know that I'm succeeding in at least one of those.

I'm going to keep this note short - I just deleted about 300 words - in the hopes that you'll read this note sooner than later.  I'd also encourage you to read other stuff on this blog, but unfortunately most of it is self-indulgent garbage.  But if you're bored, give it a shot.  As boring as it probably is, it's all for you.

I love you, Finny.

Happy birthday!!!

-Daddy

Pro Nuggets

For all of the grief that I give Kitty about the supplements that she's force feeding this family or the amount of money that we spend on "bone broth" soup bones from cows that were educated at Oxford and got in at Amazon pre-IPO, you can't debate her intent.  Nobody cares more about making sure her family is happy and healthy than her and she pours every once of her energy into the task - along with about $300/month in chewable animal shaped probiotics.

Fun fact:  chewable animal shaped probiotics are apparently as addictive to a two year old as playing Minecraft on crack.

Not that I've seen that many two year old crack-smoking Minecraft junkies.  This is Washington.  All of our two year olds smoke pot.

But I digress:  Edie is INCREDIBLY addicted to probiotics, which she adorably refers to as "pro-nuggets."  As in, "Baby needs her pro-nuggets, Daddy", as she nervously scratches her arm and stares through me...

The first thing she asks for when I come into her room in the morning?  "Pro-nuggets in my bowl, daddy?"  The first thing she asks for when we get home from daycare?  "Pro-nuggets in my bowl, daddy?"  She'll stand next to you in the kitchen jumping up and down, waving her arms, with a huge smile on her face yelling "PRO-NUGGETS!" whenever you appear to be approaching the general probiotic staging area.

I'd say this can't be good, but there is plenty of research suggesting you can't overdo this stuff.  In fact, I'll bet her "gut flora" could kick my ass.

After which she would calmly step over me, pull my wallet out of my pocket, lean down and caress my cheek and say, "Don't worry, Daddy, Baby just needs her pro-nuggets."

Persuasion

After nearly seven years of an impressive steadfast refusal to try any and all kid activities that his mother and I have tried to push him - REALLY PUSH HIM - into, the last six months have been a banner time for ol' Finny.  Who knew that it could take a kid 6.9 years before he was willing to learn to swing on a swingset by himself?  Or put his face in the water in a swimming pool?  Or ride a bike?

It was worth the wait, because he's now happily doing all of those things and the one, arguably most important thing, that he's been avoiding the most:  reading.

At the beginning of the school year, he would struggle to finish five pages in 20 minutes.  Last night, he read all 50 pages of Red Fish, Blue Fish in under 10.  That's a long freakin' book and I'm incredibly proud of how hard he's worked on his reading to get there.

But that's only the tip of the iceberg.  At school this week, they were working on writing persuasive letters.  Apparently, Finn's was for me.  I've included both a photo & a transcript translated into common English, since while his reading is great, his spelling might still be a little advanced for many of you.

Dear Famous Blogger, 

Can I have an iPad? 

#1:  Because you have two.
#2:  I won't have to bug you any more.
#3:  Why do you need two?
#4:  What will you do with the other one? 

So please can I have an iPad? 

Sincerely,
Finn

It's tough to argue with that logic.  I think the kid just earned himself an iPad - the old one, of course.  After all, why do I need two?

Now I apparently need to write a persuasive letter of my own.  The topic?  "The Importance of Flushing Your Poop."