They’re making music for the frogs again in the next room.

3 brief sketches of late summer parenting life

.1. we went on an adventure today to the big public library in downtown Los Angeles. We rode our bikes to the train and took the train straight there. Our kids are just a little sponges right now, everything goes in, all the wild people on the street and all the murals on the walls and the watermelon and mango chunks in the fruit cup the Guatemalan woman sold us, a nap in our arms on the train ride home. we read a bunch of books and sang a bunch of songs and i thought they were asleep but as i left the dark room Silas called out “Dada, hug and kiss!” and Lilah followed “Hug and kiss, Dada!”

I hear them in the next room, talking in the dark, having a very active conversation with and about their stuffed animals. And that is the end of my report

2. “what’s all this noise in here? It’s time to go to sleep!” So much clanging and crashing, so many stuffed animals and sticks and things all over the floor. “ we are making music for the turtles, Dada. They want us to sing for them before bed.”

This is three-year-old twins. Today I was walking down the alley with Lilah and someone was blasting Led Zeppelin out of their truck. I was singing along.” been a long time. Been a long time been a long, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely time!” then it occurred to me:

“Lilah, do you know what lonely means?”

The little blond girl holding my hand shook her head.

“ lonely is when you’re all alone, no one else is around, and you’re really sad about it.”

Lilah has never been alone in her whole life.

come to think of it, I’m not too lonely much these days either. As an only child I spent a lot of time alone when I was a kid. By the time I was her age I was already watching a lot of television Lilah and her brother have barely ever seen a screen, other than when they see their dad pulling his phone out all the time to fiddle with it.

There is no time to be lonely in this version of my life. If I’m lucky, I get a few minutes to write down my dreams in the morning before I’m covered in children, wiping butts and putting on clothes and feeding and answering a million fucking questions.

They’re making music for the frogs again in the next room. It’s time to go in there and sing them some songs.

I’ve had this story in my head all day, but I’ve been working on. In my head it’s really good. We’ll see what happens by the time I sit down to train and ride it. I might just pass out and start again tomorrow.

3. Overtired child purple faced screaming for her mama at 10pm and I just wanna let her tired mama watch the trashy queer vampire show in the other room and I rocking overtired child in the rocking chair while she screams with the lights dim and she doesn’t want to hear any of the songs I try to sing so I’m fishing for a new song rocking and rocking, with her brother trying to crawl up my leg and sit in an occupied lap and it’s so hot, the hottest its been all summer and finally I pull up a song from the tattered memory banks and I softly sing:
   
   Blackbird singing in the dead of night
   Take these broken wings and learn to fly
   All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.
   
   It’s like magic, she relaxes against my body. The boy child crawls into his bottom bunk bed. I sing the second verse. I sing the chorus and then go back to the beginning. The screaming feels like it never happened. This old song is suddenly repurposed as a prayer for sleep.
   I sing it 5 or 6 times all the way through. I’m daydreaming in the rocking chair. I have this vivid memory from when I was 20 years old. It’s the summertime and I’m traveling with a whole pack of people and we’re in the desert with two school buses. I’m on top of this big black schoolboy with my friend Sturgeon and he’s teaching me how to play Blackbird on the acoustic guitar. I’ve never played such a complicated song but he’s patient with me and I figure it out and I’m playing the complicated chord progression over and over again. I open my eyes and I’m 49 years old on a Sunday night before preschool in a dark room and my kids are falling asleep.
   
   All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arrive.
   
   Lilah whispers in my ear: “Dada, put me in my bed.” My heart swells with joy and relief, I lift her up and put her in the top bunk. She nuzzles up next to her sheep and bunny rabbit and I kiss her good night.