Stepping up his game

I should write here more, obviously, but it's been hard. For a long time. Life, man. But I gotta admit, Darby's doing his best to smoke me out.

Casey and Darby are both playing soccer this summer, but Darby gets special mention because it's his very first season. Also because, incredibly, he's one of the stars of his team. If you don't want to hear a father gush about his 4-year-old son trying soccer for the first time, bail out now. With my blessing. Because *puke*, who wants to listen to that? I totally understand. But I've got to write it down because Darby deserves it and because I want to remember this later.

From the beginning, Darby's brought excellent levels of focus and effort. Just another kid pounding ineffectually at the ball, though. Until a few practices ago, when the kids were in their customary scrimmage with one of the other teams to close out the night. Halfway through the game, Darby kicked the ball out of the scrum, jumped after it through a gap in the crowd, and just took off. He ran half the field with both teams trying to steal the ball away — 4-year-olds don't pass, so there's only one way to acquire the ball — but he shrugged it all off, kept his speed up, and carried it easily into the goal.

I was shocked. That play came out of nowhere. And then the thrill hit me — more excitement than a parent probably should feel from a pre-K soccer game. I played it cool 'cause I didn't want to be that guy, but inside I'm so proud. Because Darby did everything I asked: he worked hard, he listened to his coach, and he did his best every time out there. And suddenly the effort was paying off. What parent wouldn't be happy to see his kid succeed like that? I started thinking through treats we had at home that Darby might like. Something to let him know he'd done something special and his family noticed.

But Darby was just getting started. He dominated the rest of that game. It was like he'd suddenly stumbled on the winning formula — a ha, that's how you score! — and the rest of the night he just pushed that play as far as it would go. Which was pretty far. Tons of breakaways, at least one more goal, one mystery play that was either a goal or an assist — hard to say who gets the last touch when three teammates are kicking furiously from two feet out. It was only 3-0 at the end, and either he scored every goal or very close to it. He just took over that game.

I talked it up quite a bit, but he took it all in stride — "OK, Dad, can I go play on the swings now?" — but you have to reinforce the stuff he does right, and he's got such a terrific attitude. Funny, all those scoring plays, and all he wanted to brag about was how the other team got no goals.

Erika's been nervous, though, and worried about me overdoing it. We don't want to make Casey feel bad, and we want to make sure we're praising the right things, etc. She's got a point, absolutely. But she also doesn't understand soccer. This really is special! I told her. She's got to realize, scoring goals in soccer is hard. Everybody's working against you, and it takes a tremendous amount of perseverance and energy and luck. I don't want to overdo it either, but at the same time, I played soccer a bunch of years as a kid, and I remember scoring exactly one goal. And I treasure that memory. So, I continued, this really is a big deal. Those might be the only two goals he ever scores! And I want him to remember that I was there and that his family cared and was excited for him.

And of course, the punchline is that since then, Darby has recorded at least a hat trick in every outing.

Tonight his team won 5-3, and Darby had three goals. The kid's just persistent. It's super fun to watch. Lots of other kids out there are taller, and some are way faster. Darby loses lots of races for the ball. But he doesn't get discouraged, and he doesn't pout or give up. I admit, I thought that a strong possibility. But he surprised me. He's steady; he pays attention and pounces on opportunities, and he just keeps getting rewarded for it.

He's got a strong kick (favors his left foot for some reason), and he's good at driving the ball up the field and staying with it while everyone chases him. But what's most amazing to me is how he intuitively shifts his body to keep other players off the ball — and then he gets away with it. He gets caught from behind all the time, but he blocks everybody out and keeps his feet, and no one seems able to reach the ball. They just follow him helplessly, not sure how to get around him to where the ball is.

He looks so tiny out there! He should be getting steamrolled! But you know, he seems to eat continuously. I've wondered once or twice how I'm going to afford groceries when he's 14. So he's a pretty solid kid now. And in the past couple weeks I've seen challengers crash into him and bounce off. It's just silly. I've seen him emerge unharmed from packs of children determined to trip him. I've seen him skip through slide tackles like a pro. I've seen taller, faster kids collide with him on the run while he's got the ball, and when they fall down while he glides away, I cannot believe my eyes. Am I dreaming this? He's just a tank out there.

This should not happen. Delaneys are not built that way.

But he doesn't know that, and I'm not going to tell him. I doubt he'll ride that play style successfully forever, but for now he's doing great, having a ton of fun, and maintaining an excellent attitude. And for the past couple weeks he's had me looking forward to soccer nights, and that's a job very well done.

Darby tries on the hat

Behold, Darby as Indiana Jones:

 

Bonus photo! Casey's turn:

I love that one. We got lucky and caught the whip crack at a nice moment. He looks like he just stepped out of the poster.

Also lucky: Darby and I only took a light lashing. And that's how Casey learned to wait until his family is out of range before trying out the weapons.

So that's how it works

We've been letting the kids watch Doctor Who lately, and Darby's particularly attached to it. On Sunday I gave Darby a haircut, which led Erika to tell him that we'll have to leave enough time to grow it back out before Halloween so it'll be suitable for his possible Doctor costume.

"I keep putting water on my head to make [the hair] grow," Darby offered.

We're saved! Thanks, Darby

Darby got his hands on the garden hose and decided he wanted to play firefighter. If only the house's windows had been closed.

March Madness Part 2

After collecting Casey's NCAA picks, it was Darby's turn.

First I asked if he wanted to pick Wisconsin because we live there, and he thought I was teasing him. "We don't live in Wisconsin!" Uh, yes we do, Darby. "No! We live in Cross Plains!" So I spent a little time this morning teaching him about cities and states. Apparently we tease him too much – he assumes we're kidding about everything. It took a little persistence to convince him we really did live in a place called Wisconsin (Casey backed me up, which helped). But then when I got back on subject and asked whether he liked Wisconsin or Vanderbilt, he said "Cross Plains." At that point I gave up and translated it to Wisconsin.

Then Darby picked Georgetown to go all the way because he heard the word "George," and right now Curious George is the hottest trend in the house. He probably thinks Curious George is on the team. It's not the worst basis for picking an NCAA winner that I've heard of.

Blame

Darby: Daddy, somebody made a mess, and you have to clean it up.
Chris: "Somebody" made a mess?
Darby: Yes.
Chris: Did you make a mess?
Darby: Yes.

I promised Casey I'd bring home Raisinets. I made sure Darby got a handful, too, presenting him with a pile on the desk he was sitting at.

Darby: You brought me chocolate beans!

Growing up

Darby: Daddy, I'm growing!
Chris: Right now?
Darby: Yes!
Chris: Cool!

Come here and get out!

Erika and I are chatting in the kitchen when Darby begins shrieking: "MOMMAY! MOMMAY!" Erika goes downstairs to check it out while I listen in.

Darby: "Leave me alone!"

Erika: "You ... want me to leave you alone?"'

Darby: "Yes, I said leave me alone!"

Erika: "Uh, OK. I'm going to go back upstairs where I won't bother you."

Man, is that kid 3 or what?

Weird things happen when I read to the kids

One of Darby's favorite books is The Spooky Old Tree, the story of the three bears that go in the tree and a bunch of mildly scary stuff happens. When it gets to the part where they have to go over the Great Sleeping Bear, for some reason, I find myself doing a Gregory Peck impression, this really low gravelly voice when I say "Great Sleeping Bear. Do they dare go over Great Sleeping Bear?" It makes it sound more ominous or something. Except, it's not really a Gregory Peck impression at all. It's my impression of Robert Downey Jr. doing an impression of Gregory Peck, which he did some years ago in a silly romantic comedy that I can't remember the name of now. I think Marisa Tomei was in it? Anyway. I'm not sure why this is the way it is. I've seen Gregory Peck himself in several movies. But the voice I'm channeling is Robert Downey Jr.'s. But only when I'm reading The Spooky Old Tree.

Now Darby knows pretty much every word in The Spooky Old Tree and sometimes insists on saying the words himself (it's a pretty short book). When he gets to that page, he does the low gravelly voice like I do it. So ... as I told Chris, that's Darby doing an impression of his mom doing an impression of Robert Downey Jr. doing an impression of Gregory Peck. He thought that was amusing and that I should share it.

In which Mom's new pants arrive

Erika ordered some jeans online (ordinary denim jeans, that part's important), and one day last week they turned up in the mailbox.

Darby: Mommy, I'm so proud of you! You got new pants!
Mom: You're proud of me? Uh, thank you, Darby.
Darby: They're so furry!
Dad: Darby, are you stoned right now?*

*Note: I only thought, and did not actually speak, that last line out loud.

Erika reminded me of this conversation when I observed that I spend most of my time around here correcting Darby. Erika pointed out that Darby just likes to talk and doesn't much care what he says or what the context is. He just remembers that he's heard this combination of words before, and he's going to speak them now. And I'm excitedly posting that here, because as soon as she said it, I realized: YES. THAT'S IT EXACTLY.

In which Darby discovers trash talk

The boys and I saw the Conners in Rochester last week (more on that later), and let me just say how startling it is to see Paige, who is (1) younger than Darby and (2) a girl, ahead of him in height and weight. And that's despite the fact that, of my two sons, Darby is the one who won't stop eating. Sorry, Darby: your genes have failed you.

But he's not letting it get to him. Darby and Paige got along very well, which was a delight to see.

For example, Darby loves to play catch, so we spent several sessions in the Conners family kitchen bouncing a rubber ball back and forth. Paige wanted to play, too, but she doesn't have as much practice as Darby, so she struggled with the catching part. The ball would squirt away across the room, and the two of them would race to chase it down, but Darby -- well, I'm not kidding, Darby has a LOT of practice at this, so he usually came up with the ball, only to have Paige feeling left out and trying to take it out of his hands. But I didn't even have a chance to work out a balanced system before Darby solved the problem for me. "Here, I'll share," he announced, and handed Paige the ball. Go Darby!

And that became the pattern: I bounce the ball to Darby; Darby catches it and hands it to Paige; Paige throws the heavy, water-filled glitter ball at my head or my groin from 36 inches away; repeat. Excitement for everyone!

We continued in that fashion for quite a while, and I was so proud and relieved to see Darby and Paige cheerfully and spontaneously sharing duties. I had two toddlers and one ball, and we were all getting along and playing nicely. I don't know how else to put it: this moment was magical.

But then I bounced it to Darby, and the ball slipped away, and the two kids dove for it in a mad scrum. Again, Darby got to it first. He rose to his feet with the ball in his grasp.

"I got it!" he cheered.

"Good job!" I exclaimed, because that's what you do.

And Paige loves attention and praise too, I'm sure, because she immediately stood and lifted her empty arms in the air: "I got it!" And she's 2, so she says this with no irony, which is already pretty funny.

And Darby just turned and gave her this shockingly mature affronted look, like he couldn't believe the gall of this girl.

"No, I got it," he corrects her. "You got nothing!"

Cheeseburgers do not hide!

Classic Darby quote to kick off the year:

We're driving to Indiana to visit Erika's family for Christmas in 2010, and I plead exhaustion and make Erika drive. For some reason, she thinks it's a good idea to grab fast food for dinner along the way but keep on driving. I disagreed but failed to put up a fight. So our 4-year-old and 2-year-old had cheeseburgers handed to them, in the car, in the dark, with helpless and vague instructions to "be careful."

Casey did all right, but soon enough I checked on Darby to find his dinner missing. Hmm. He's a good eater, but finishing that fast? I was skeptical.

Dad: Darby, did you finish your cheeseburger?
Darby: No.
Dad: Where's your cheeseburger, Darby?
Darby: It's hiding in my pants!

Ugh. So in the dark, I fish around in his lap until I find his burger, and that's when I discover he's eaten the top half of the bun and left everything else, so that when I find it in the dark, my fingers squelch unpleasantly into the cheese and ketchup and mustard. That's the last time I asked Erika to drive.

Darby tries ginger ale:

Darby: Blech! This is yucky!
Chris: Do you want some more?
Darby: ... Yes.

And reported by his mom:

Erika: Good painting, Darby. What is it?
Darby: It's a guy throwing up!
Erika: Yep, that's what that looks like.

I'm sitting at the kitchen table when Darby comes running up.

"Daddy, Daddy! Mommy did something bad!"

Immediately I hear Erika from somewhere in the distance: "WHAT?!"

Sadly, Darby's explanation was incomprehensible, so I never could figure out what he thought she'd done. But I'm sure it was terrible.

Quote[s] of the [Holi]day

Ah, a day at home with the kids. So here's one from each:

Casey: Hey, Daddy? Remember last year, when the Twins lost too many games?
Me: Well, I try not to, but yes.
Casey: Maybe that will happen to the other hockey team that's playing the Wild.

Thanks, Casey. I love when he tries to cheer me up. And actually ... the Wild are looking surprisingly good so far.

And:

Darby: I want pie sauce, too!
Erika: It's not called pie sauce, Darby, it's whipped cream.

Happy Thanksgiving, all.

Here's one I saved from a month ago:

[Darby is wailing, profoundly upset.]
Chris: Darby, what is it? Why are you crying?
Darby: *chokes back the sobs* Casey called me a cabbage!

???

Darby: I want another show!
Erika: Sorry, Darby, it's time for bed.
Darby: But I'm hungry!
Erika: It's time for bed, Darby. Let's go upstairs.
Darby: To get a snack?

Nice try, Darby. Nice try.

Quote of the Day

Darby: I'm getting big with candy corn!

Quote of the Day

Darby: I'm an outer space spacestronaut! We're going to the moooooon!

Happy birthday, Darby.