Claire sitting at the coffee table eating dinner while Dante lays under her feet in hopes of catching some crumbs, “Dante! Leave! You’re pissing me off!”

Mama and Dad’s eye brows raised toward one another.

Me, “um….” Thinking it’s my truck driver vernacular that got us to this point.

Mama, “Claire, you shouldn’t tell the dog that he’s pissing you off. Tell him he’s upsetting you. That’s an adult phrase.”

Claire’s reply. “But, Mama, what if he IS pissing me off?”

Claire swims on Wednesdays. I usually pack her bag and get everything ready but recently we were on a cleaning spree. Mom was washing suits and figuring out what stayed for class and what went on vacation. When I got up, her bag looked packed. Her towel was already folded in the bag and her wrap was sitting across the top of the bag. We were running late from karate (check the punch my kid in the face post below!), and we got there with two minutes to spare. When we cut it this close, she changes in the truck of my truck. Well, we pulled everything out for the suit, and there was NO Suit!

I immediately called Mama, and she said of course there wasn’t a suit because I [me not her] didn’t pack it! She told me to just run in, buy one, and get her into the water. I dragged her naked, only in her wrap, inside. The manager gave me a list of sizes and then the swim coach came over. I quickly asked what size, he looked down at her, and called out a number. I quickly picked the really cool green and black designed suit and knew I was going to be paying an arm or leg for my first born. He scanned the suit, I handed him my card, and she ran into the locker room.

The photo below doesn’t do it justice, but she loves her new, sleek competition suit.

Today at karate Claire was early, sitting with other kids, and watching the other class. She suddenly shrieked, began to cry, and ran to me. “He punched me in the face!” she screamed.

I scanned the room. “Who?” I demanded.

“Him.” She pointed at a four year old boy near where she was sitting. I immediately jumped up, took three huge steps across the room, leaned down into this little guy’s face, and said “Don’t even think about touching my kid again.”

He timidly whispered “Ok” as he looked like he was about to pee himself.

Hahaha they won’t mess with my kid. The teen years sure’ll be fun.

I don’t mind traveling for work, and I enjoy flying around the country (for the most part), but being away from Claire is hard. When she was two months old she flew to PA while I took a trip down the east coast. This was a little hard because she was so new, but her mother was with her so that helped. In 2007 Donna and I flew to Europe without Claire. I’d been away from her for a few days before flying to Berlin that year, and by the time I hit Vienna I missed her so much. I can dig a day here or long weekend there, but once again she’ll be off to PA this summer to see her grandparents. I will literally be away from my daughter for 21 days: 3 weeks. Yes, I realize she will be around her grandparents and family and busy, and I will be super busy myself but it’s still hard. I hope to talk to her a few times, and I hope to Skype her. I will have to get my mother-in-law access to my ning to post photos of Claire so we can all enjoy them, too. Things’ll work out but it’s always a little disconcerting. In another decade she can just stay with us during this time and all will be fine.

Recently two pretty cool things happened. I was off to Maricopa Tech on May 19th and Donna took Claire to karate. Afterward Claire told Mama that she got a tip on her karate belt. Donna was surprised, but then Claire showed her. Donna completely missed Claire graduating a level, which I thought was hilarious. Claire’s now running around waiting to be tested again since the first three levels don’t necessarily go in order, so you can do one or another first or second… etc. Each day she wants to know when her next tip test will be, and I encourage her but I don’t know their schedules.

Then also in gymnastics, we’ve waited for her to graduate from this level for sometime. One week we thought she was done, but then she wasn’t. The next week she was tested, and then her instructor had her do things for the next level. She did really well and passed! She moved from the 10am course to the 8:30am course. We didn’t realize the next level is now 45 minutes long, so she gets more instruction time which works well. Then it’s great for an early brunch.

Here’s a shot of her getting her gymnastic medal, and, of course, you can tell how excited and happy she is.

My mother sent the following email out to some people today. Read for yourself.

Well, for the past several days we’ve been going back and forth with the seller of this nice level ranch home on Thomas Road in Peters Township. This morning we finally heard back that they accepted our latest bid!!! Whooooo hooooo!! Apparently there was another bid that came in late yesterday, and there was also yet another buyer who was asking to go back for another viewing. His agent told him to just take the bid, already, cause we’d gone out of way to accommodate what he needed too. Sheesh…. No idea when the closing will be. Getting our house redd up so we can put it on the market. They don’t really do that thing where they wait for you to sell your old house anymore but I think we won’t have too much trouble, even on the main road since we’ve really fixed our place up real nice.

Years ago my wife and I saw Neil Simon’s Rumors at the local college and really enjoyed it, so when the high school announced they were performing Fools, I was eager to go. They only had it playing three nights, and the kids asked me to go. On the final night, I asked Claire if she thought she wanted to go. She really had no idea what I was asking, but I figured if she freaked out, we could leave.

She was totally into the whole idea, but she kept talking about the kids dancing. I tried to explain that they wouldn’t be dancing but she didn’t get it. We got there, got pretty good seats up front (near an aisle where we could slip out), and buckled down.

The show was phenomenal. The kids were great, and my former student, Eric, who has never acted before, did a great job. Claire was wonderful. She mostly sat there and enjoyed the show. She really didn’t talk loudly or anything but asked a few questions. During the intermission, we got some water, she peed, and then we sat back down. We enjoyed the second half as much as the first, and then we headed home. Claire thanked me for taking her to the play when we got into the car, and then she conked out on me.

That was Friday. Last night I asked Claire what she wanted to do today, Sunday. She asked to go to the movies. This wasn’t what I expected so I was a little curious. I knew Monsters Versus Aliens was playing and figured she might like it. After I got home this morning from grading, Claire asked again. I got her cleaned up and dressed, and then we headed out.

We got to the theatre a little early, and Claire asked for popcorn. We got a small popcorn and smuggled in some water bottles from the store. Another girl her size had a booster seat, so I asked Claire if she wanted one. She nodded and grabbed one off the stack before we went into the theatre. Several other parents and kids came in, and the previews started. They were very loud and Claire wasn’t too happy about the noise.

The movie was almost two hours, and there was more of a plot than even The Invincibles, but Claire sat through it all and watched. She only complained a few times when it was very loud or scary.

At one point she told me that if I didn’t eat some popcorn soon, she’d eat it all. I took a handful and thought nothing of it until about twenty minutes later when I went for more. There was none! She’d eaten it all. She told me I missed out and I could use the popcorn bag for trash if I’d like. It was so rational and kinda scary.

We had a beautiful time and she thanked me. Great weekend.

Ok, I think it’s time to comment on this one. One day in 1984 I was walking home from school and my parents drove by. I waved them down and hopped into the car. They told me they were off to look at houses because before that we’d been renting, and it was time to move on. We went to this three story cape code on a major highway. The former former occupant had died on the first floor master bedroom and the basement had nice wood paneling. The next day I wrote the address on my wooden desk at school. This was midyear. Within a month we were moved into this new house on Curry Hollow Road. I finished grade 4-6 at two local elementary schools and spent junior high and high school in that house. I can begin to tell you some of the stories in that house, and some others will never leave my lips. I visited home through undergrad and then moved home (into the dead lady’s room) for all of grad school. My brother has lived there for 24 years now. My sister about 20. I lived there for a good part of two decades myself. The house isn’t the largest, the yard isn’t the biggest, and it’s on a highway. In 1993 I became a man in that downstairs basement. Through the early 1990s my cousin courted his now wife and mother of 3 children while spending most weekends living in that same basement. In early 1994 I got my largest tattoo to date on my parent’s dining room table in that house. In spring of 1995 the house caught fire. The basement was destroyed, half the first floor. That same basement where I was sleeping on a December morning in 1994 when I was informed my grandmother was dead. That same house where I lay in an upstairs bedroom with fever and chills in 1988 and was shortly diagnosed with Crohn’s Disease. The house where I met with my tutors through Jr High when I couldn’t go to school. The same house from which we all three graduated from high school. The home to which my sister headed after a stint in Colorado and, years early, my brother after another in South Bend, Indiana.

My parents are getting older. Dad has bad knees (over weight, skied for four decades). Mom has bad knees (baker’s cysts), bionic hip and a terrible back (sciatic and discs). Did I mention the house has three floors? You can’t even get to the living room without going up a flight of stairs or two… and in the snow and ice, it’s even worse. They need one floor.

Now, I come to say this. It looks like I will never ever be in that house again. Never. Ever. My parents are selling it. They too are moving on like Donna and I did a decade ago. They aren’t going as far. My parents are prepared to put in a bid on a single story (with a huge basement) large home in Canonsburg, PA. We shall see if they get it.

When they talked about moving, we always told them to go for it! Curry Hollow has always been small, too small for two dogs, three children, two parents, a parade of boy friends, girl friends, friend friends, and our own families now. Mum began looking more earnestly after Christmas (now that the economy sucks and you can get a good deal); she liked the Thomas Road house, but I didn’t realize my father would run our the day after tax season to look, too. When he’s ready, my father acts quickly. Too quickly almost for me right now.

My uncle (Dad’s little brother) is in town. They all went to view this Thomas Road house yesterday, and today my parents began packing our house. Yes, Ours, still. I’ve not lived there in a decade, but I am really town now between being happy for them to have the room they need and the lack of stairs, etc… but it’s like I can never go home now. There will be nothing familiar at all with it. No sleeping on the back porch in the summer, listening to New Kids on the Block and getting my ear pierced when I was 12, or the pond where I froze my snapping turtle to death by accident. Nothing. When they say you can never go home again, now I really get it.

This feels like it’s becoming a reality. We talked about new carpets for 15 years and they are doing it now… to sell our family home. We talked about new bathroom model. Now, they are doing it. The basement acoustic ceiling has been falling down for 15 years, my uncle and brother replaced it today. Today. Took 1 day. I waited 15 years, and I will never see the ceiling, the hardwood, the paint. I will get off the plane at Christmas and go to someone’s weird unrecognizable house.

A few months ago day care added an oven in Claire’s room. It’s a small thing where they can do basic cooking without burning anyone or anything, but now Claire comes home all of the time and thinks she can cook. Typically she wants to do it without us! She’s really into making dessert for us, and the other day we almost had to eat some really odd looking Easter candy and water concoction before we convinced Claire otherwise.

Monday I came home from work and wanted to grab a quick shower before we headed to dinner. I told Claire and typically she plays quietly with some art stuff, a book or the video game. This time I came out a few minutes later (I do NOT take long showers) and this is how I found her.

To this day I don’t know what she made, but I will tell you that she used half of the vanilla I had left from Nogales, most of the baking soda and a few cups of sugar. She also finished off our icing (from a former cupcake evening) and sprinkled everything with confectionery delights. She was very happy with her project and we left it there so Mama could see it before I tossed it after Claire was deep asleep that night.