There
are many things I expect as a dad, some things I expect as a gay dad, and a few
things I expect as dad in a multiracial family.
Questions, comments and discussions that have already happened or will
happen down the road. “Where is their
mother?”, “Where is your wife?” and “How long have you had them?” have all
already happened. And of course there
was the inevitable “When are they leaving?” question from Coco about the twins. Still to come are the more weighty questions
like “Why do I have two dads?” which, in San Francisco, might be years in the future. But this past weekend I heard something I wasn’t
expecting.
On
Saturday night Ken and I were in an Uber on the way to a friend’s 50th
birthday party. For the record I am not
yet 50, although it’s looming on the horizon. In the car, Ken was chatting with the Uber
driver as he always does. After a few
minutes of conversation between Ken and the driver I realized that I had had this
driver before; he had driven Coco and me to her preschool one morning and then driven
me on to work. As Ken and the driver are
chatting and as I have this realization, the driver says, “Yeah, I’ve picked up a guy in your neighborhood
before. An older guy. Maybe you know him. He takes his granddaughter to school. Or maybe it’s his daughter, I’m not sure.”
Yes,
that’s right. I have now been officially
mistaken as Cornelia’s grandfather. Although
it’s true that I am old enough to be her grandfather since I am almost-but-not-quite
50, I like to think that I don’t look old enough to be her grandfather. Apparently, I do.
Ken
thought it was hilarious. I was glad there was an open bar at the birthday party.
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| "Do I look like her grandfather?!" |
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Apparently I need this.
|
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I might need this.
|
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I definitely need this.
|
She
is just starting to use words. But just
barely. She has “Papa” down for sure. She is working on “Daddy” (at least that’s
what I’m hearing) and “Coco.” She is very focused on the word “diaper” for some reason. Every night as I’m changing her before bedtime
she practices the word. She watches me
say it – really intently watches me say it – and then tries really hard to say
it herself. She is using a few signs – “leche,”
“more” and “all done.” She is a terrific
eater. She’ll eat just about anything we
put in front of her and goes to work on it as soon as it’s in front of
her. It’s like she knows she has a job
to do and she gets it done. She is not a
terrific sleeper, however. She’s not a
bad sleeper, but she tends to cry a bit when put in her crib before naps and
before bedtime. And she’s always the
first one done with her nap. Bedtime
stories are still a challenge, for me at least because I'm trying to read to
Margot and Flynn at the same time. Ken
has much better luck holding their attention than I do. 
Margot
is also remarkably helpful. (I think I’ve
mentioned this in a previous post.) She actually picks up around the
house. She’ll pick up a kid’s jacket in
one room and take it to the room where it belongs and even to the bin where we
keep the jackets. She’ll pick up shoes
and bring them to whoever should be wearing them. (She loves shoes, just like her big sister
and her grandma Mary.) She’ll even
retrieve Flynn’s sippy cup wherever he might have left it and bring it to
him. Ken is thrilled at the prospect of
having just one more person in the house who will help him pick up after the others in the
house who will not be named but who tend to leave things lying around pretty
much all day long. 
The
biggest surprise to me has been her independence. When she was an infant it seemed like she needed a lot more attention than Flynn. Now,
however, she is happy to play by herself and is nonplussed if you walk away and
leave her alone to play. A few
weeks ago I was at the park with all three kids. As soon as we arrived Margot walked past the
toddler play structure – the one with shallow 3-inch steps and little plastic slides
that are only three feet of actual slide – to the big kids play structure – the
one for the over-two-years-old set with real steps, platforms that are six feet or
more off the ground and a metal slide shaped like a spiral. Margot climbed up those steps, walked across
the platform and, at the top of the metal spiral slide, turned herself around,
dropped down on her hands and knees and slid herself done that slide. At the bottom she got herself off the slide by herself and
came up for another turn. And she did it
again and again and again. Flynn, on the
other hand, was having none of it. 
