Category: Kids & Cute Stories

A few good boys

Jill, official older daughter of NewMexiKen, brings us up to date on 7-year-old Mack’s training for a triathlon August 9th.

Today Mack had swim practice for an hour. They worked on the butterfly stroke for the whole hour, which can only help him.

Then he rode his bike home. That was two miles.

As soon as he got home he ran around the block — only .2 of a mile, but I figured one lap was enough.

His stomach hurt, but I kid you not, he wasn’t even breathing hard.

Loving grandpa that I am, I responded that he’d make a good Marine. Jill wrote back.

Nope, I’ve told all [three boys] that they are forbidden from pursuing any career which would lead to people shooting at them.

So that knocks out anything in the armed forces, as well as police officer, security guard, border patrol and working for the post office.

Most asinine decision of the day

(Beachwood [Ohio]) – Beachwood has cancelled its annual 4th of July Rec League All-Star Game for 9 to 12 year olds.

In a letter to coaches, Assistant Recreation Supervisor Frank Vicchiarelli announced that the decades old tradition would end because certain kids were being singled out as better players than others.

WTAM

As Fark.com put it, we won’t be hearing “Now batting, number twelve, Precious Snowflake.”

How sweet are The Sweeties?

Five of The Sweeties attended the Washington Nationals game last night — and three were tossed balls from the field after the between innings warmups. That’s some mighty cute kid appeal!

Jill, official older daughter of NewMexiKen reports that, “The balls are cool. They have a special logo … that says inaugural season of the Nationals ballpark.”

Oh, and Emily, official younger daughter of NewMexiKen, caught one of the T-shirts shot into the crowd. (She’s pretty cute too!)

The triathlete

Jill brings us up to date on 7-year-old Mack’s training for a (kids) triathalon August 9th:

Mack did a good job at his swim meet. He got new personal bests in both of his events, smashing his backstroke time by almost ten seconds. . . .

Following the meet we came straight home and he rode his 1.3-mile bike loop around the neighborhood. He smashed that time by four and a half minutes. The training continues…

The kid who was still learning to ride early in the week is now doing 1.3-mile loops.

Powers

Jill, official older daughter of NewMexiKen, filed this report on Aidan, who will be five in September:

This morning, Aidan came into my bed at about 6:00am and woke me up by saying, “Aidan, reporting for duty.” Snuggle duty.

We took coloring books to the pool, to watch Mack’s swim team practice, and didn’t wear our bathing suits because it was so cold today. Since we didn’t get suited up, we forgot a hat for Aidan. He was so concerned, and although we sat in the shade at the pool, whenever he got up to go to the bathroom or go say hello to someone he held a coloring book across his face as a sun shield.

A few days ago our electricity went out in a storm. We played and watched the storm for about half an hour and then Aidan announced he was going to watch TV. I laughed, “Aidan, the TV won’t work. It uses power.” He replied, “The TV has powers?!”

Yes, magical, magical powers.

Aidan

Aidan a couple of days after he walked into a moving aluminum baseball bat May 24th. He does all his own stunts.

Ah-Dee’s Belly

Jill, official older daughter of NewMexiKen, reports on Aidan, who’ll be five in September. Ah-Dee’s been having some reflux issues.

Aidan had an upper GI this morning, which is a test to try to identify certain problems in the stomach and diaphragm. He had to drink a bunch of barium (which the tech flavored with Hershey’s syrup for him, but which still was pretty gross), then stand and lie in a variety of positions on an x-ray table, sipping the barium the whole time, as they photographed him.

He did a very good job. The doctor told me that he didn’t see any obvious ulcers or tumors, which is good news. Apparently, ulcers in four years olds are more common than you’d think.

After that we went across the street and he had four vials of blood drawn. That was far more traumatic for Aidan, but we had a lab technician there who was quick, no nonsense, and got the stick the first time despite Aidan thrashing as hard as he could, screaming, and having difficult veins because he’d fasted 12 hours for the upper GI. I could have kissed her. (This is the same lab where I brought Reid when he was nine months old, and took my time explaining to the tech that he had difficult veins, and that we’d had many problems in the past, and we’d had to go into his head, and it took many tries, yadda yadda, and she nodded at me, turned around, and had the needle in his vein in about three seconds. I am never going anywhere else.)

Next we have to collect some stool and turn that in. That we get to collect at home, Yay. Apparently, we use saran wrap.

Anyway, maybe something will turn up in these tests to explain his stomach, and maybe it won’t. We have to wait until mid-August to see a pediatric gastroenterologist, believe it or not. But we got a new Zantac prescription, so at least we can make him feel better while we wait to see if they can diagnose him.

I had promised him that if he did a good job at the upper GI, we could go to Safeway and get him a doughnut and a soda. As he’s in the middle of the test, I hear his little voice from the machine, “Mommy, remember, after this I get a doughnut, soda, and candy.” I replied, “I don’t remember saying anything about candy!” The doctor and the tech laughed and the doctor said, “He’s kind of running the show right now, mom.”

Later the tech told me to make sure Aidan got a lot to drink today, “…and things without caffeine.” Feeling like Champion White Trash Mom, I replied, “So, no Mountain Dew, then?” Aidan piped up, “No, I want diet Coke.” And we left, to the sound of dueling banjos in the distance.

Thoroughbred

Jill, official older daughter of NewMexiKen, sent this along today:

“Here’s Mack starting his kick for home, leaving the other kids in the dust…a 3:57 half mile…in 90-degree heat…after getting up at 6:15 and swimming at a swim meet.”

Bringing It Home

He’s 7. Amazing how much energy he can get from a diet consisting pretty much of peanut butter and jelly and chicken nuggets.

Click image for larger version.

Easy call

My friend Donna’s 8-year-old granddaughter, Morgan, joined us Friday when we toured the Oklahoma City Memorial and Museum.

Beforehand, while driving around downtown Oklahoma City we somehow got into a discussion about execution — lethal injections in particular. She was against them, Morgan said. She doesn’t even want to be a veterinarian despite loving animals, because her friend’s dog had been given a shot by a vet (euthanized). Killing people, even bad people, was killing too, she said.

Part way through the museum Morgan told her grandmother that it was “fine with me” that they executed the bomber.

They’re really better if you don’t know

NewMexiKen is reading Michael Pollan’s 2006 book The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals. It reminded my of a conversation I heard about over the weekend concerning 5-year-old McKenna, one of my friend Donna’s granddaughters.

McKenna was in a discussion with her grandfather about getting chickens for the farm he’d recently purchased. He told her that chickens and cows can be pets, but they could also be food.

“Where do you think chicken nuggets come from?,” he asked.

“McDonalds,” McKenna answered.

Mack Truck

The oldest of The Sweeties, Mack, not only plays soccer, football and swims for the club team, he runs the mile. He is seven.

His mother reports:

Mack Truck Comin' ThroughMack did so great at his race yesterday.  …  He came in second in his age group with a time of 8:09.  The kid who came in first in his age division is the kid that went by Mack when he stopped at the wrong ending line (the kid finished in 8:06).  Which kills me, but doesn’t seem to matter to Mack.  The kid is a second grader, so Mack finished first in first graders and younger.
. . .
 
He came in 19th in the race, of 163 people 18 and under.
 
It would have been nice if he won, because the girl he luuuuurves won the girls 7 and under.  That could have been the spark that brought them together.  Now she will feel superior to him (although he did beat her by more than a minute.)  Actually, I think she already feels superior to him.  After all, he is a boy and she is a girl.

Life is just a bowl of cherries

This story from Jill, official oldest daughter of NewMexiKen, was first posted here four years ago today.

[Three-year-old] Mack and I picked out some lovely ripe cherries at the market today. We’re going to chop them up put them in homemade ice cream.

At lunch I diced some of them and gave them to [8-month-old] Aidan.

He grabbed a couple and stuffed them in his mouth. Immediately, his eyes shot to me with an expression that perfectly conveyed two thoughts:

“My God, but I do love you, woman.”

and

“Exactly what else have you been keeping from me?”

Kids

Buy kids all the video games and Disney princess paraphernalia in the world — or let them drop stones down a storm drain grate at the soccer field. Which to you think they’ll choose?

Five of The Sweeties® demonstrate. Click image for larger version.

Five Sweeties

How together were you at age three?

First posted four years ago today. (How time flies.)

Three-year-old Mack informs everyone (through his mommy) that he was one of only two kids to hit a home run* during his at bat at tee ball class today. Yay Mack!

*”Home runs” are conditional in many ways. Some, but not all, of the factors that contribute to a tee ball home run include:

1) How well the child hits the ball off the tee.

2) The speed with which the instructor reaches the child and redirects him towards first base after the child goes tearing indiscriminately towards left field.

3) How many of the children playing in the field are actually paying attention to the at bat, rather than standing at the bleachers asking their mommies for goldfish crackers.

4) The “coming within ten to twelve feet of second base is close enough” clause.

5) Which child fields the ball. It’s usually Zachary or Carson (“The Big Kids”), and no way are you getting a home run. But if your ball accidentally trickles right up to the feet of Noah (“The Kid Who Won’t Participate Without His Mommy”) you stand a chance.

Update: Lest it not be clear, Mack’s mommy provided this report.

And from that same day in 2004:

“Jill, Mack’s mommy, also reports that watching a bunch of three-, four- and five-year-olds doing jumping-jacks is funnier than any movie Hollywood has put out in 20 years. Some clap, some jump, but no one gets the whole thing together.”

America’s Favorite Pastime

Yesterday I went to a Giants baseball game. It was Little League Day, so there were about ten thousand young boys running wild in the stands. It was also free bat day, courtesy Bank of America.

I will pause while you digest this concept.

Do you know what happens when you hand an 8-year old boy a new bat, sit him behind the exposed heads of several adults, and ask him to sit patiently for four hours while nothing much happens on the big field in front of him? Do you think he fiddles with that bat?

Apparently Bank of America figured there was some theoretical amount of head injuries that would make the public forget that they lent a trillion of your dollars to hobos.

Scott Adams

There’s more.

Lost and found

Jill, official oldest daughter of NewMexiKen, reports on Reidie, who turned two last Sunday:

As most of you know, I lost my cell phone 11 days ago when the baby got into my purse and spread its contents all over the kitchen area. I’ve asked the boy probably 50 times since then “Where is Mommy’s phone?”

Well, about half an hour ago he walked up and handed it to me, out of the blue.

Hello, anyone home?

First posted here two years ago thanks to Amy.

The boss of a big company needed to call one of his employees about an urgent problem with one of the main computers, dialed the employee’s home phone number and was greeted with a child’s whisper.

“Hello.”

“Is your daddy home?” he asked.

“Yes,” whispered the small voice.

“May I talk with him?”

The child whispered, “No.”

Surprised, and wanting to talk with an adult, the boss asked, “Is your mommy there?”

“Yes.”

“May I talk with her?”

Again the small voice whispered, “No.”

Hoping there was somebody with whom he could leave a message, the boss asked, “Is anybody else there?”

“Yes, “whispered the child, “a policeman.”

Wondering what a cop would be doing at his employee’s home, the boss asked, “May I speak with the policeman?”

“No, he’s busy”, whispered the child.

“Busy doing what?”

“Talking to Daddy and Mommy and the fireman,” came the whispered answer.

Growing concerned and even worried as he heard what sounded like a helicopter through the earpiece on the phone the boss asked, “What is that noise?”

“A hello-copper” answered the whispering voice.

“What is going on there?” asked the boss, now truly alarmed.

In an awed whispering voice the child answered, “The search team just landed the hello-copper.”

Alarmed, concerned, and even more then just a little frustrated the boss asked, “What are they searching for?”

Still whispering, the young voice replied along with a muffled giggle:

“ME.”

Hmmm, let me think about that while you put on your sweater

“The presence of a grandparent confirms that parents were, indeed, little once, too, and that people who are little can grow to be big, can become parents, and one day even have grandchildren of their own. So often we think of grandparents as belonging to the past; but in this important way, grandparents, for young children, belong to the future.”

— Fred Rogers, born 80 years ago today.

Around 35 years ago NewMexiKen (I was just Ken then) wrote Mr. Rogers a letter. I thought the way two elderly characters were portrayed on the show was silly, especially the old messenger Mr. McFeely (McFeely by the way was Rogers’s middle name).

I received back a five paragraph letter, apparently from Fred Rogers himself (and oddly not dated). The man took the time to respond to my criticism in a thoughtful way that — at least it seems to me — showed the type of class he evidenced in everything he ever did. Read for yourself his reply. Click each image for larger version.

Rogers Letter Page 1 Rogers Letter Page 2

About to be two

Jill, official oldest daughter of NewMexiKen, reports on Reid, who turns two this Sunday:

This morning, Reidie threw himself out of his crib for the first time. (It sounded like, “Daddy! Daddy! Daddy! [LOUD THUMP] Waaaaaaaah!)

Then, later, he walked downstairs and said, “Hi, Aidan.” Not Ah-dee. “Aidan.”

Sigh. Tomorrow he’ll be off to college.

Mama Giraffe

This was first posted here four years ago, February 23, 2004.

NewMexiKen visited the Rio Grande Zoo Monday, a cool but not uncomfortable day (the rain and snow came in toward evening). With me were my daughter Emily and her daughter, my 16-month-old granddaughter, Kiley. The Zoo was quiet and nearly empty, seemingly as many caretakers as visitors.

We had already enjoyed the giraffes for a few minutes when a female came from the far side of the enclosure toward us. I commented to Emily that the giraffe was coming to see us.

Sure enough the giraffe came as close as she could, her head no more than five or six feet from our viewpoint. She seemed attracted to the baby, who was hungry about then and crying.

Kiley stopped crying when she saw the giraffe. We took some photos. The giraffe lost interest and wandered off.

Kiley also lost interest and resumed crying. Slowly, ambling as they do, but without hesitation, the giraffe, which by then had gone around a corner out of sight about 20 yards away, came back, if anything closer.

There was absolutely no doubt in our minds that the female giraffe was interested in the crying baby. I found myself talking to the giraffe, as one would to an intelligent house pet, reassuring her that the baby was fine. It was a conversation with considerable eye-to-eye contact.

The whole incident was extraordinary.

Ah!

Debby, official younger sister of NewMexiKen, sent me a present that arrived today. It’s a Grandpa’s Sweeties calendar — and not at all late because it runs from March 2008 through February 2009.

The calendar has, as you might imagine, delightful photos of The Sweeties each month, plus notations for holidays, family birthdays and anniversaries, events, etc.

And most importantly of all, April 20 is dutifully annotated as the birthday of Ron Howard’s Brother.

I think I’m gonna cry.

Thank you Debby.