Category: Kids

Day Dream Believer

The field was sopping wet and mud was getting tossed all over the shorts, socks and faces of the kids. Occasionally a soccer ball was kicked towards the goal, yet most of the time, the coach would yell, “Kick it this way!” as the ball headed out of bounce for the 20th time. I watched the coach gently turn several kids around to get them going down the field in the right direction. All in a days work when coaching a group of five year olds.

My five year old son, Lincoln, started playing soccer this year and we are surprised to see a side of him that we’d not seen before. He’s much more confident and aggressive than we expected running right into the mix after the ball.

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Lincoln spending the afternoon at a muddy soccer practice

Yet as the coach separated the kids into two teams for a scrimmage, Lincoln couldn’t keep from his hands off a large pole in a pool of mud. He’d quietly drift behind the goal till he reached the spot.  Maybe it was the pole. Maybe the mud. Either way, it was more interesting than soccer so he continued going back to it even after the coach called him back to the field several times.

Kim and I smiled at each other as we watched this struggle between player and coach from the sidelines. I supposed one of us could have gone down on the field and taken care of the issue, but we didn’t. It was a good learning experience for Lincoln in taking direction from an adult other than his parents.

As I watched Lincoln wander off I couldn’t help but think he’s a curious kid and with a short attention span. I can relate to that well as I get bored very easily and will find alternate activities to keep busy.

If Lincoln does have a little day dreamer in him, he can blame his parents.

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Coloring Easter Eggs

Whoever invented the custom of coloring Easter eggs must not have had children because if any color got on our eggs it was certainly by accident. We did color a lot of other items, most of which are not at all related to Easter unless the table, chairs, hair, faces and dog count.

The egg coloring kit came with five color tablets. I carefully separated the colors pouring the recommended amounts of water and vinegar into the color coded cups. All was going well until the kids demanded they test out the flimsy egg dunker that looks like it’s made out of one extra large paperclip. I have no idea what demented mind created this thing, but it only works if you have a perfectly balanced egg and the skilled hands of a brain surgeon. The egg dunker in the hands of my kids is just a cruel way of transporting eggs from the carton onto the floor in record time.

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I laughed when I picked up the egg coloring kit and saw these gorgeous eggs that must have been colored by Martha Stewart.  A more realistic picture would include the eggs my 3-year old dunked into all five colors. She reminded me of the days I’d gross out out my parents by ordering the Kamikaze snow-cone with one squirt of each flavor. She created the egg coloring equivalent of the Kamikaze.

We eventually colored all the eggs. Those that hadn’t turned black received the sticker treatment. I forget that kids don’t understand the notion of pacing themselves, and instead of putting three or four stickers on each egg, decided it was best to put 50 stickers on three eggs. No wonder Kim had to make a quick Target run leaving me in charge.

We made a mess, dyed our hands, and maybe even drank some vinegar. But we survived. And you know what? The eggs the kids created are more beautiful than those on the coloring kit cover because they were lovingly hand-crafted by by three great kids. Take that, Martha!

Games We Play

Each night before the kids head off to bed they beg and plead and occasionally bribe me to play a game with them. The type of game doesn’t matter as long as it meets the one important criteria: The game must be one that I make up on the spot.

In the past I’ve played a game where the kids run around the living room in circles while I toss couch cushions and throw pillows at them until mom asks WHAT-THE-HECK-DO-WE-THINK-WE’RE-DOING!

Another game I made up while trying to rest on the couch goes something like this: The kids try to sneak up and pull my socks off before I can smack them over the head with a pillow.

Each game I make up includes the tossing or hiding of items that weren’t made for that purpose. That’s what makes the game fun. That’s also what bothers mom. These games are best played while mom is running errands.

Tonight we played a game where the kids line up on the couch and I make a comment that applies to one of them like, “I’m going to tickle the person with the longest hair”. The kids laugh till they cry. Sometimes they just cry if they get passed over one too many times.

I decided to switch things up tonight by chasing the kids around the living room with a nursing cushion that looks like a pillow in the shape of Pac Man. I call it the JAWS OF DEATH if only to make it sound more threatening than its appearance gives off. Come to think of it, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Kim use this item. It looks like it could be a neck brace or nifty platform to hold up a set of nursing boobs at just the right angle. I really should pay more attention to these things. But the game entails capturing each child in a Pac Man grip and relocating them back to the couch.

My goal in any of these games is to wear out the kids before I collapse. So far I’m 0 for 25.

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First Time That’s Been Said

As a kid I thought it was funny to create sentences that nobody in the history of the world had ever said before. For example, can you imagine someone has ever uttered the phrase:

Applying eye liner to my sister’s zebra makes me happier than spreading ants on my grandma’s birthday cake

All fairly common words, yet possibly the first time they’ve been assembled in this fashion. Making sense isn’t the key. You just have to be the first person to create the sentence using common words.

I’m not sure what this says about my childhood, but this is the type of activity that would keep me occupied for hours. I’m not embarrassed to admit what I did in my youth, but I’m hesitant to say I still play this game when I’m in the car. Alone.

But the more our kids grow the more I find myself uttering sentences that sound weird and oftentimes inappropriate if taken out of context. And I wonder if those games I played in my youth were merely practice for when kids came along.

It’s to the point now where I’ll say something and only later think back and ponder how it came to be that saying, “Get your hands out of your butt” seemed appropriate at the time.

Over the last week I’ve also said, “Don’t lick your sister’s ear” and “Please don’t bite your brother’s toenails”. I didn’t’ think twice when I used those words. Yet in hindsight, someone may read this and wonder if our family is a bunch of cannibals.

The Beanbag

I feel as though my personal space gets perpetually smaller by the minute. It started a few years back when we bought our dog a nice “doggy bed” to sleep on. At least that was the idea. But Elka would sniff the bed, walk around it a few times, scratch at it and then walk around it again before jumping on the couch to sleep on my legs. And it didn’t matter how big the couch was either as she always rested her paws and chin on my lap. I’d try to scoot her over but it was no use. It’s not easy moving a 70 lb boxer when she doesn’t want to move. And then she’d snore like a sailor.

Yet back then I could still see the TV. Now I have a 6 year old who jumps on my back when my 5 year old climbs on my lap while my 3 year old thinks it’s funny to “spank dad’s butt” while I try to watch SportsCenter. I feel like a human beanbag with too few beans.

I don’t know why we invest in larger couches, recliners or chairs when the kids think it’s perfectly fine to treat dad like a tree fort. When we sat down on the couch to watch 101 Dalmatians, everyone was comfortable except me. I couldn’t see the TV, my legs and arms had gone to sleep and my dog drooled on my leg. 

But I cherish these times because I know it won’t be long before it won’t be cool to sit by dad. So right now, I don’t pluck them off me.

Until Lincoln gives me a “wet willy”.

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The Toddler Train

The week we visited family in Utah, we went to this fun kids museum called the Tree House located near the LDS Temple in downtown Ogden. Our kids had a lot of fun playing in each of the different areas. One area had a small classroom setup and the kids took turns playing the teacher or student. Another area had a small fire engine where the kids could dress up in firefighter uniforms and sit up high on the engine and ring a bell and turn the big steering wheel.

But their favorite area of the Tree House was a semi-enclosed area full of these large foam shapes. The kids jumped on them and tossed them at each other until one of them noticed this sign:

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I didn’t think a bunch of kids ages 2-6 could put this train together. But they gathered up all the different shapes and started from the front of the train and moved down the line, carefully making sure each piece was a perfect fit.

The biggest challenge was keeping a few of the smaller kids from sitting on the front of the train making the whole thing unstable. I was surprised how well the kids worked together and the train was assembled with only one temper tantrum thrown.

I’d like a home large enough to have something like this train around. It was a nice break from the video and computer games. It was fun to see them work together as some of the larger blocks took two or more kids to move into place.

More Snow on Sunday

We woke up to more snow this morning and our kids can’t get enough of it. About the only one not excited about the white stuff is Elka our boxer. There was already a lot of snow on the ground at my parents house and today’s storm brought another four inches for the kids to run, skip and dance through.There’s something about a yard full of fresh power that calls to the kids. We’ve been keeping my parents dryer running non-stop attempting to keep the kids in dry clothes. The cold hands and feet and faces don’t seem to keep them inside for long.

We are hoping for a break in the weather tomorrow as was make the sixteen hour drive back to Seattle. Our kids will miss their grandparents and cousins. They will also miss the snow, the slush and the special snowballs only dad can pack.  

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Snow Fun in Utah

We are visiting family in Ogden, UT this week. Having lots of snow to play in is sure a treat for our kids who don’t see much snow in Seattle. Although they don’t have proper outerwear, they enjoyed tossing snowballs at each other and running through the huge piles of snow. It doesn’t hurt when they have a Grandpa who makes hot chocolate for them when their little hands and feet get too cold.

Makes me not want to go back to  rainy Seattle.

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It’s always fun when Grandpa Visits Seattle

When I finished college in 1994 and moved to Seattle for my first (or 2nd) real job, I didn’t plan on staying. I figured I’d gain a few years of experience, contact old friends back in Utah and eventually move back to Salt Lake City.

Other than a year stint in St. George, I’ve remained in the Seattle area going on 13 years and I couldn’t be happier. I enjoy living close to a big city and all the attractions that comes with it such as sporting events, concerts, diversity of culture and arts. Occasionally I miss the snow we had in Utah, but I don’t mind the mild temperatures of Seattle and I enjoy the rain.

But one thing we miss by living in Seattle is the proximity of family. Kim’s family all live in St. George, Utah with the exception of her brother who lives 90 minute north of us. My entire family lives in northern Utah so we’re lucky to see them once or twice a year. As our family has grown, it’s become more difficult to plan trips that revolve around seeing every family member. We see our parents a couple of times a year but our siblings don’t make the effort to come up this direction which means we don’t see them much.

This past weekend has been a treat having my father in town for a few days. We blessed our baby, Kai David Nordquist, in church today and my dad made the trip up for that special event. We gave Kai his middle named after my father. We took in a UW Husky basketball game yesterday and watched the Giants pull a major upset of the Patriots tonight. Basically, we hung out and talked about sports, family, church and technology.

Our kids love to see their grandfather. The pull his arms, hug his legs and generally maul him every waking minute of the day. He’s such a good sport with them. No wonder they can’t wait till he arrives and cry when he leaves. Kim’s parents are also fantastic with our kids. Grandparents have a unique way of making the kids feel special. I wish they could see them more than a few times each year.

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Three Different Styles

Since baby Kai arrived my sleep schedule seems to change on a nightly basis. I get up at 5:45 am each morning to catch my vanpool into Redmond at 6:30 am. If Kai gets up before I need to, I’ll sometimes sneak downstairs and sleep on the couch. Elka will usually follow me down to keep my feet warm as she lounges at the end of the couch. Don’t tell Kim.

If the kids get up early, they will come downstairs to watch cartoons just like I did at their age.

The three oldest kids each have different ways of approaching a sleeping dad since they need my help to turn on the TV and receiver. Here’s where each little personality comes out in spades.

Luca will quietly make her way down the stairs, grab both both remotes, turn on the TV and then kindly ask me to turn on the receiver. She will then snuggle up in two or more blankets on the smaller couch.

Lincoln will sneak down the stairs like a leopard, careful not to make a sound. He’ll wander around in a daze for a bit before stumbling upon the remotes. He’ll sit on the couch quietly until I awake and then ask for my help. He’ll push out the couch cushions so he can hide behind them which he listens to cartoons.

And then there’s Anna Lynn. She’ll wake up and run as fast as she can down the stairs. I don’t know how a 3-year old can replicate the sound of herding elephants but she can. She’ll dash across the room until she’s close enough to perform a cannon-ball type dive onto my stomach ensuring I won’t be getting more sleep. She doesn’t care about the TV or remotes. I’ll wake up, look at her smiling face and she’ll say, “I am awake, dad!!!” like it was a surprise.

As much as I cherish my sleep, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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