"Go lie down. Watch TV."

Today was an awful day at work. Someone did something shocking even for a lawyer. I worked all day to combat it, but I stewed, too.

When I got home, a sudden rage came over me that surprised me. Maia had been outside with Kristina, and she climbed into my car for the last 10 feet or so of the trip into the garage. That was nice--one of the surprising things that Maia will do that just adds so much. And then I thought about what this person had done, and how that might affect my practice, and how that might affect my home and family, and I thought I was going to explode.

After a few minutes inside, I went out again to get myself away from Maia, Kristina and Popo. I had found myself walking in a tight circle through the livingroom and lanai, and I knew I didn't belong with them. But watering the hibiscus didn't produce any lasting relief, and so I went to go buy some beer.

"What's that?" Maia wanted to know.

"Beer," I said. "Daddy had a hard day."



"Okay," she said, and she carried it to the table. We were ready to eat dinner. But when I left the table to get another, she protested. "Beer and soda not good for you," she said. "Not good for caca." What is and isn't good for caca is a conversation we have on a fairly regular basis because moving her bowels can be such a traumatic experience for her.

She screwed up her face at me from her seat opposite mine, wagged her finger at me, and said, "I don't want you to drink beer."



Kristina and her mother got into the conversation at this point. Something about my looking tired.

"Go lie down," Maia said to me. "Watch TV."

When she says things like that, she really takes me by surprise. This is the same little girl who, about a week ago, started yelling at the screen door about her skin coming off. "My skin falling off! My skin falling off!" she said, completely panicked. It turned out that she was talking about a scab that had come off her forehead where she had been burned by a drop of sap from a tree. First time that she had experienced a scab coming off.



And yet here she was, a uxorial little 4 year old, giving me advice that wasn't bad about letting my mind go.

I left to go back to work a little later. Partly because I had to, and partly because I needed to. She was watching TV from her stroller. I apologized to her for being in such a bad mood. I don't know how much of that sank in. I think she'll mull it over and that somehow or other, she will make sense of it in her own fashion.



These pictures are all from last Saturday at Kakaako Beach Park--the same one where we flew Nemo that day. A lot of things happen there--surfing and as you can see, some evidence of Hawaii's growing "marriage industry." Japanese couples, in particular, like to come here to get married at scenic spots like the one you're seeing.

John, Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Making arguments

Last night, I was called in to referee an argument. I had been working on a punee in the livingroom and had heard them in the back bedroom, carrying on at length. It had been mostly Maia, talking a mile a minute.

"Mommy mad," Maia said, appearing at my elbow. "And Maia mad, too," she continued.

Kristina explained that the argument had to do with whether Maia should try to go peepee before going to bed. Kristina had not been able to persuade Maia. She was also barely able to contain her laughter.

"Just try, Sweetie," she said.

"Don't have to," Maia responded.

"But Sweetie, you can't always control it. Like when you peepee'd there," Kristina continued, indicating a spot in the livingroom that Maia had baptized.

"I did that on purpose," Maia said.

"What?"

"I did that on purpose," Maia repeated.

This was a revelation. Maia had been furious because I had turned the television off for dinner. She had had a little tantrum, screaming at me and then peepee'ing. At the time, both Kristina and I had put it down to loss of control in the moment. An accident.

"Then you ought to be spanked," Kristina said.

"Not spanked," Maia said.

"Okay, not spanked," I said.

Maia knows that spanking isn't something we approve of. Kristina hasn't ever done it, but I have, four times (but not in the incident mentioned above), regretting it later each time. "But you make us so mad when you do that," I continued, "that sometimes we'd like to. And anyway," I said, trying to get the conversation back on the peepee track, "sometimes you can't control it."

"Your brain controls it," Maia said, tracing a line down from her head to where she peepees.

"Yes, that's right," I said, "but do you ever dream that you're sitting on the toilet, and you go, and then you wake up and you're really in bed?" I asked her.

She thought about this and nodded.

"Last night," she said.

"See," I said. "It's better to peepee before you go to bed and empty your bladder. Then you don't have to worry about it."

She thought about this. "Oh, man," she finally said, putting her head down against the punee. Then off the two of them went to the bathroom.

When she gets going in an argument, she's really amazing. Very inventive, and she just keeps at it.

In the postmorten of this, Kristina told me that Maia had knocked over a syrup container earlier in the day. It was one of those containers that you get from McDonald's for pancakes. Kristina had put it on a plate on a counter in the kitchen to guard against spillage. Maia had reached up to see what was there and had knocked it over.

"See Maia," said Kristina, who had just warned her to be careful, "you spilled it."

"Only on the plate," Maia had retorted.

Maia has changed so much since March. More than in all the time from May, 2004 till then. It's just amazing. In March, she still seemed like a toddler to me. Now, there's no question but that she's a little girl.

John, Tuesday, September 5, 2006