Berit's been doing great at soccer. No, she hasn't scored a goal in either game so far, but neither have her teammates. She has run the ball all the way down the field a couple times - one time ended in a face-plant, but I felt that she recovered rather quickly from that. Now, I play the proud father out there shouting for her to kill the 6 year old girls on the other team.

Rowan did a face-plant of her own last night. While running through the house, she tripped and bit it into the floor. This morning she had a nasty little fat lip. Poor girl.

I've been less and less patient when Griffin hits Rowan... because he hits her all the time. It's like there's a magnet in his hand and one in her head, so that anytime he even comes near her, it's BAP! Yesterday, I grabbed him and yelled at him not to do that anymore. Pam doesn't agree, but I think it would be good if we taught Rowan to just hit him back. I think he'd stop, then.

Then there are days like today when the first few hours with my three children in their various stages of meltdown about drive me over the edge.

However, in this case, I send them off, pray for patience, regroup, and rejoin them at Berit's soccer game. And boy am I glad I did that, instead of going to yoga. Because you know what? Her team didn't score a single goal out there - but man, she looked good, tearing down the field with the ball in front of her! Like the other girls, she always seemed to stop just shy of the goal... progress not perfection. And then there was the one bad face-plant as she was taking it down... ouch! But she recovered.

Rowan started at her new preschool yesterday - easing into it slowly, so they were just there for an hour or so. It sounded like she did just fine.

Griffin parrots everything now so I have to watch my mouth. This morning I greeted him by saying, "Hello Mr. Babaloo!" and he said it right back to me in his primitive little toddler way.

I surprised Berit by showing up at her school today. She sat with some other 1st grade girls at the back of the cafeteria. I thought that she looked quiet and alone - not her usually social self. We spent a while chit-chatting about school and about the HUGE monkey-bars blister on her hand before the bell rang. I casually commented that we wouldn't be able to play on the playground before she had to go back to class, and Berit broke down in tears. I felt terrible. She was sad because I was leaving, and I consoled her, promising that I would go to class with her for a short while.

As it turned out, we had a few minutes to hang out on the playground together before we went back to her class. Once there, I was asked by Ms. Cohen to read a book to the class, which I did. Berit seemed all in good spirits again when I finally left.

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.