Category — Family and Friends

Caelyn and I spent the day at the Fort Worth Zoo yesterday. For the adventure, I made a little on-the-spot to-the-zoo-and-back mix (hence the length, just about an hour and a half). If you can’t tell, I chose the songs based on their titles, not necessarily their themes. Since it’s a quick mix, it’s not really put together well by sound. I’d definitely arrange it differently if I spent time listening to how they do/don’t blend together. But I did keep like animals together, like at the zoo. (I might try, but I’m not sure I could accomplish both the sound and animal organization at once, anyway. I don’t think I could work in “Bears” sound-wise either, and Caelyn deserved for at least one of her songs to be included.)

There’s a shift too, from watching the animals to thinking like them.

And there are too many of the same artists in there. That’s a mix no-no. But what can I say? Belle & Sebastian and Caribou like animals and they come to mind quickly. (Maybe I should’ve just listened to The Milk of Human Kindness.) Anyway, sorry there’s no artwork or download option. I’m sure you’re not in this for my playlists alone, but I’m the administrator around here. (Nothing on this list is so obscure that you couldn’t find it on iTunes, if you’re interested.)

Please Do Not Feed the Animals

“The Beast and the Dragon, Adored” — Spoon
“Wolf Like Me” — TV on the Radio
“Lord Leopard” — Caribou
“Paper Tiger” — Beck
“The Fox in the Snow” — Belle & Sebastian
“Comfy in Nautica” — Panda Bear
“Weird Fishes/Arpeggi” — Radiohead
“Whalebones” — Man Man
“Funny Little Frog” — Belle & Sebastian
“The Boston Monkey” — Otis Redding
“Bees” — Caribou
“The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is Out to Get Us!” — Sufjan Stevens
“I’ve Got You Under My Skin” — Frank Sinatra
“Bears” — Andrew Peterson & Randall Goodgame
“A Good Flying Bird” — Guided by Voices
“I’m a Cuckoo” — Belle & Sebastian
“Side with the Seeds” — Wilco
“My Little Corner of the World” — Yo La Tengo
“Fidgeting Wildly” — Centro-matic
“I Shall Be Released” — Bob Dylan
“Jumping Fences” — Olivia Tremor Control
“Geometry of Lawns” — The Clientele
“Fireworks” — Animal Collective
“Pet Sounds” — The Beach Boys

May all your days be as zoolicious as mine.

Chris and I were talking the other night about our parents as grandparents. I mentioned that I thought mine have done a pretty good job of not “parenting me through parenthood.” My in-laws haven’t caused trouble either, but, to be honest, I expected my parents to have a harder time.

I’m sure my mom has wanted to jump in. She’s told me more than once that it’s time to start carrying a wooden spoon so I can “tear that baby’s hiney up” any time I want. And just last weekend I coaxed a little criticism out of her over lunch at La Madeline, where Caelyn helped herself to individual servings of Land O’ Lakes sans bread. My dad thought this was brilliant: “Would you like a little more butter, Caelyn? Katy, go get her another one!” My mom couldn’t keep the disgusted look off her face. I couldn’t help but comment, “Caelyn, your Grammi Roo’s makin’ that face because there’s no way she’d have let your mommy do what you’re doing.”

Mom straightened up in her chair, “You got that right! But I’m not the one who will have to deal with the consequences.”

True, but I figure 2 tablespoons of butter now and then can’t do any more harm than the daily ding-dongs that showed up in my lunch.

Anyway, the butter incident is actually what sparked the parents as grandparents talk. Truthfully, while I did expect restraint to be difficult for my mom, I still anticipated it because I knew that my dad would be hard-pressed to let her offer more than casual advice: “Ruth, you’ve got to let them make their own mistakes and learn from them.” And my mom would be hard-pressed to not do whatever my dad said.

(This was not my dad’s stance while I was growing up. His policy states that prevention, protection, and intervention are always the right option until a child reaches 21. At that point, if said child is benefitting from your money via higher education, you retain the right to lay down the law on the things that destroy a person’s life, the greatest of which would be smoking.)

So, even though I haven’t done a lot of things they way they would, they’ve done a good job of not letting it get to them. I’m afraid, though, that the time will come when I’ll cross a line and my mom, fearing the spiritual demise of her grandbaby, will have to say something.

I love my parents. I’m glad for their example, and I welcome their counsel and prayers. But (I’ve mentioned before) that we are very different people; we have different parenting styles too. And, while we mainly have the same values, we disagree on a few big issues. So, naturally, I plan on approaching some things differently than they did. If there really is a “line,” I figure it’ll be crossed when we get to those issues. And I figure two of the biggest stink-raisers will be sex (which I’ve written about here) and rock n’ roll (which I’ve written about here and here).

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Caelyn and I went to Altus a few weeks ago without Chris. That means I stayed up all night. And that means I looked through lots of old HS photos and yearbooks. . . .

I’m a pretty nostalgic person. Just last night I got nostalgic about the Little League field lights, and I’ve never played! But, for some reason, I can’t muster up an ounce of nostalgia for the town I lived in for 10 years. It’s hard to say why. Maybe because my parents live in the house I lived in from 12 to 18, not 8 to 12 (and something sweet and warm in a person gets lost after 12), or because they replaced the carpet with tile. Maybe because I didn’t love high school or because my friends have moved away. Maybe because the church I grew up in is full of different people in a different building or because the country just isn’t the same without the teenage angst.

Or maybe I’ve just turned into a big city snob.

Whatever, you’d expect me to start feeling fuzzy as soon as I cross the Red. But I don’t, not even when nostalgia-inducing events occur. This visit, my old next-door neighbor came over. Then Mom made us stop to say hello to my old band director. It was nice, but being in the band hall only made me think about how I won’t encourage Caelyn to be in band. C.C. was in town too, which was good, but it didn’t feel nostalgic. We didn’t sit around talking about the old days. We talked about the now ones.

But it was still fun to look at those pics and yearbooks. To be honest, though, I don’t remember everyone who signed them. One guy addressed me as “baby.” He was moving that summer and gave me his new number. I had to think long and hard about who he was. (To my credit, I don’t think he had a reason to call me “baby.”)

Anyway, mixed in with those yearbooks I found my Official English Paper Files for middle school, junior high, and high school. And! My Creative Writing Files for junior high and high school. I bet you didn’t know I wrote a murder mystery in the 7th grade or a courtroom drama in the 8th. There’s a romance for Freshman year, along with a re-visioned ending to Little Women (where Jo marries Laurie) and a piece about God turning outhouses into castles. I can’t not mention the state-wide anti-tabacco essay winner that landed me a “Smile In Style, Don’t Use Tobacco!” t-shirt. And let’s not forget the short-story that earned me a grand-prize trip to Electricity Camp! Of course, there were papers on Hamlet, Death of a Salesman, As I Lay Dying, and Heart of Darkness too.

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Close to a year ago, I wrote a post about the Merritts getting healthy, and I suppose, to celebrate that anniversary, I ought to write an update post, even though I’m not sure I really want to because: a) being thin without working for it was a part of my image for a long time and b) it feels kinda vain.

But, still, I’m happy to report that 365 days later we’re still at it. I’ll admit that we haven’t been 100% for each of those days. January to April was sparse on the workout front. But, still, knowing us, I think that’s an accomplishment.

So what’s all that “healthiness” looked like?

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We don’t have a potty chair around here, but we do have a potty attachment seat. I know what you’re thinking (wishing?). But, no, It’s not high-tech, Japanese, state-of-the-art, or digital (but it does have Elmo on it). And, no, nobody called me at work to inform me that Caelyn just said “poo-poo” and send me racing home to make sure my little girl won’t have to take rubber sheets to a major university that requires their students to be potty trained.

But!

Just yesterday, Caelyn did say “Bapa-Bapa,” pulled her step stool up to the pot, slapped on Elmo, ripped off her diaper, climbed up, and let ‘er rip all on her own accord. Since then she’s only let two no. 1’s go anywhere but in the potty, and she’s racked up quite a few “sparkles” on her impromptu reward board:

And!

She did frame her face with her little seat and shoot the biggest smile up to her daddy, which made him crack up and say, “Oh, Caelyn. That’s a joke Dave Coulier would make!” (I think he was just trying to disguise his Full House knowledge by attributing the potty hat joke to Joey instead of its rightful owner, Michelle, don’t you?)

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