This is what it comes down to...

I had a moment yesterday when I looked at Buttercup and realized she'd made another developmental leap. She was no longer the post-pre-K-early-elementary kid. Nope. She was a kid coming into her own right. She was finding ways to help on her own, ways to relate to people on her own. The shy kid was still there, but in her place was an increasingly interesting individual.

The other day, we were on our way from Richmond back to Dayton, and it proved to be one of the best trips we've taken yet. The difference between seven and six is radical. At seven, the kid is reading to me from the backseat. We are having full-on conversations. It's like she has suddenly become aware of the world.

The funny part about these developmental moments is that you can't prepare for them. No matter how many books you read or other parents you talk to, it is simply impossible to prepare for the moment that your kid makes the leap. Why? Because you suddenly have to adjust everything. If it's the kid deciding she no longer likes something she happily ate before, it's better to ask why she doesn't like it than to insist she should eat something she doesn't like. If she suddenly has distinct opinions about what she wants to do, it's better to find out why she no longer wants to do things she did before. And in all cases, it's best to adjust accordingly.

The brilliant part is that the kid can articulate her reasons at this age. If something tastes bitter, she can say so. If something tastes good, that can be part of it too. The trick as a parent is to find that space to adjust accordingly. It's not always easy, but like the koan about the reed in the wind, it's better to bend than to be rigid and break.

Count this as holiday lesson #743, and remember that your kid is actually a pretty decent little individual.

Notes from the holidays

Some days as a parent you feel like a super hero. Some days you feel like a super villain. I guess the key is finding the balance—remembering that at the best moments you will stumble and the worst moments you will do better. That said, here are some mental notes from the holiday season...

• A girl will fall in love with a pair of cool new boots. She will wear them every day. Gift success...


• It will be very interesting to see how many brands and/or retailers survive the current recession and holiday season. The sales are absurd. The discounts are so deep it's impossible to imagine how brands like Jos. A. Banks will maintain profitability and viability.


• The grocery shrink ray hit Reilly's food. California Naturals shrank the mid-size bag of their Herring and Sweet Potato food from 20 pounds to 15 pounds. The price remained the same. As a result, the per-pound cost went from $1.50 to $2.00, and the longevity of a bag is reduced from three weeks to two weeks. I appreciate the company's need to deal with rising costs, but I do not appreciated such a drastic loss in value for the consumer.


• Mad Men is an exercise in excellence.


• Once you accept that the holidays are about more than an orgy of consumerism, it is easier to see the beauty of the season. What it really comes down to is the ways in which any one of us can make the people around us feel better.


• Your grandmother's traditional dishes come out better when you stop reading the recipe and remember how to cook and how they tasted when she made them.

There will be more to come later...

A Good Day

Christmas this year began with my Grandmother's Swedish meatballs on the eve. It was a mopey start, however, because Banana was going to be with Mére until mid-day on Christmas. Even so, the meatballs and gløg came out well. In fact, I'd almost say they were the best I've ever done. Practice does make perfect, as my grandmother's example showed.

Christmas morning was a bit mopey as well as it is less fun to wake up without a kid chomping at the bit to open her presents. Nonetheless, I got up, made coffee, and worked at finishing up Christmas preps. Then a wonderful thing happened: Mére called to say that Banana wanted to come over earlier than planned. I had to race a bit, but things came together and I even managed to get showered before they showed up.

What followed was brilliant. Banana was naturally excited about the spread of presents—though in reality it was less this year than last year. Better yet, she was excited about everything she opened—from the stocking gifts to the Schoolhouse Rock DVD to the iPod Shuffle (pink, with her name engraved on back) to the Hanna Andersson outfit (including boots) to the framed picture of her ballet group from the spring. Honestly, it was sweet how she reacted to each and every one, and it was even sweeter that she made a point of saying "Thank you" for each and every one she knew was mine. And when it came to the Santa gifts (iPod and Pixos), she was beyond happy that Santa had remembered what she'd asked for.

The second part of our day — the day with the extended family — was mostly drama-free, too, which helped turn this into a grand Christmas. Ultimately, what made it great was the sense that the people who mattered — including my ex-father-in-law who came over for a bit while Mére rested — all had a grand time. Cynicism aside, it truly is a wonderful life sometimes.