a rugs life

Playing with my daughter involves spending huge amounts of time on the floor, taking on the personality of one of her trains. I am usually either Percy, Henry or Toby.

Typically, the ensuing drama is often related to conflict, such as several trains wanting to travel on the same track at the same time, or one train does not want give way to another (these both being a variant of the classic ‘get out of my way’ dilemma.) 

My job, as Percy, Henry, or Toby, is to express my desires in an articulate way and yet try to find opportunities to slip in parental hints for civilized resolution such as, for example, suggest that one train wait while the other train goes ahead, etc.

My daughter revels in enacting scenes like this for hours on end. I try to participate with as much muster and enthusiasm as I can, but often I find myself profoundly bored and struggling to keep up with the dramatic narrative.

What helps me persevere is the occasional burst of insight that she will express, seemingly out of the blue. Yesterday she told me that although Gordon is the fastest, most powerful engine on the Island of Sodor, he is also very shy, and sometimes this makes it hard for him to share with the other engines. Essentially this is the ‘lonely at the top’ paradigm and her description of Gordon outlined it perfectly.

Our friend Homa recently sent us photos from this past Halloween. If I don’t mind saying so, my daughter and I were looking particularly sharp that night.

The bloodless visage seemed to suit me, and Rada was positively glowing in train soot.

All in all, it was a fine Halloween. We were visited by elegant giants with hats to match, and a magician who charmed trick or treaters on my doorstep.

Rada has decided, when she grows up, to become a firefighter. She wants to ride in the fire truck and sleep at the firestation.

When asked what she will do with her babies while she’s fighting fires, she said, “I won’t have any babies. I can’t be a mommy _and_ a firefighter.”

I said, “Yes, you can,” and I told her to bring her babies to daycare while she’s working. I said she could pick them up and take them home again when she’s done. She liked that idea. She said she was going to have many babies, some that she’ll adopt and some that she’ll ‘born’.

I haven’t yet figured out where Rada will go to kindergarten next year, but am relieved she’s finally chosen a career path.

This week, the first after the end of Daylight Savings Time, has been disorienting. I feel I am walking to work in the middle of the morning, and walking home in the dead of night. 

It is odd to be headed home surrounded by pitch black sky but warm pleasant breezes.

These early days of November feel out-of-sync somehow, un-aligned. There is the darkening of winter, and yet there is also the softness and warmth of fall. 

In a few weeks, though, everything will line up only too well. It will become colder, and darker, and will feel very wintery indeed. Its just a matter of time.

I was appalled to witness the mild snowstorm this past Saturday evening. The date of the travesty was Oct 29th….. October…. the month, along with November, when Massachusettsians bask in the warmth of an autumnal glow with sunny days and crisp evenings.

Snow in October? No, it just doesn’t happen here.

So on Saturday evening, with big snow flakes wafting by our window, when my daughter asked if it was now ‘winter’, I looked wistfully into the night and nodded my head sadly, yes.

However, as many of you know, Sunday October 30th dawned clear and bright, practically glowing with warmth and overflowing with sunshine. Upon seeing this, my daughter asked me if ‘winter’ was now over and if ’spring’ had now come. I looked into that bright blue sky and, with an defiant nod towards the weather gods, nodded my head, yes.