I am the luckiest Daddy ever.

Lounging in the early morning quiet of our living room, Rowan impishly declares that Griffin is Mr. Crazy Pants and that I am Mr. Mad Pants. Meanwhile, Griffin is trying to get the ball behind the couch that Pam is stretched out on. "Move Mommy!" he admonishes.

When it's finally time to go, I am able bid a brief and quiet goodbye to my daughters while remaining unnoticed by Griffin (who goes into a desperate plea of "Wait!" whenever I try to leave for work). I get in the car and start it. The house door opens, and Berit comes flying down the yard and around to the driver's side window.

"Bye bye, Daddy. Have a good day at work." She gives me a kiss and a big bear hug.

Rowan and I went to little Catherine's pool party yesterday. Row was pretty shy with the kids... really wanted me to swim with her. So we swam around a while. She declared that she wanted to take swimming lessons.

She was a kick at Jeff and Bev's Western Swing wedding party last night!! She just danced and danced nonstop. Until the end of the night, when Jeff and Bev brought out their wedding cake, which was a pyramid of doughnuts. Then, Berit and Rowan just sat under the buffet table eating donuts. When Pam told Berit no more, she quickly shoved what she had into her mouth and backed away from her.

Last night we went out while our 23 year old houseguests babysat. It occurred to me that Rebecca and Matias might not have heartless single-mindedness it often takes to overcome the girls' protestations. And I was right. The girls were to be put to bed at 8 pm. When we came back at 10:45 pm, they were still up, with Matias throwing up his hands in a plea of innocence declaring, "We tried to get them to go to bed. We really did."

Evidenty Berit and Rowan (Berit as the spokesperson, no doubt) told the young couple that they weren't leaving the guestroom to head up to their bedroom, no matter what they said. Not psyched to hear this, Pam and I told Berit that her consequences would be not going to Bridey's party OR not playing with friends in the neighborhood this weekend. She opted to be able to attend the party.

On the plus side, she did great at her 1st day in the new 1st grade. A bit nervous, but composed, nonetheless. Her only complaint was that Maggie was annoying her by following her everywhere she went. She even seemed to enjoy soccer, and eagerly did some kicks with me, and showed me around Douglass Elementary's playground.

I was in the garage with Griffin the other day, and he leapt into a gallop while exclaiming, "I'm running! I'm running!"

At the playground, he definitively tells me, "Train! A choo-choo train!" meaning that he wants to do a train on the slide.

His use of the language is blossoming. I think I read somewhere that between 18 months and two years of age, children acquire something like 4,000 words a day (that might be an overestimation). Wehn he comes in the bedroom, he augments his bouncing up and down on my head with throwing his juice cup at me and telling me, "Daddy! Juice! 'Mon! (C'mon)"

He knows how to get what he wants.

My kids are awesome.

I snuck out of the house with Rowan on Friday for a quick bus adventure. We picked up the Dash from Louisville into Boulder, getting off down at the Pearl Street Mall - pizza, coffee-milk, and a ball at the kite store. We took the bus back just in time to miss the massive hailstorm, and I could barely keep Rowan awake on the ride back. The girls love a good bus adventure.

Back in Louisville, we met the others to see Colcannon, a good celtic band, at the downtown street festivus. Rowan and Griffin crazy-danced with me in the front. It's easy to lose your inhibitions when you have extremely beautiful children to dance with.

At the playground, Berit was sitting at the top of the roller-slide, and Rowan really wanted to slide down with her. Berit was having fun with Griffin, though, and I don't think she wanted to go down with Rowan. So when Rowan came up, she acted as though she was going to slide with her, but then slyly let her go down by herself. I was mad about that and spoke in harsh tones (yelled? I don't think I yelled...) to her about it.

My sister commented that I was too intense with her... that, in general, she thought I snapped quickly and too fiercely on the kids. Naturally, I'm hurt, but feel there must be some truth to it, which I have to amend.