Like Milk?


One thing I have learned in the past year of living in the Tanner house: kids are fascinating. I hold no degrees in doctoral science, but I feel like I’m always studying the behavior of the Tanner girls. And I’ve concluded they are unpredictably fascinating.

Most mornings the routine is that Danny wakes the girls, gets the lunch order straight, starts his coffee, and hands off the lunch order to me so he can go get dressed (unless I’m slow rising–then he starts making the lunches). I come out and and make/finish the lunches and, depending on who comes down in what order, aid in the breakfast prep (aka cereal distribution).

Much like making lunches–where I know who will take what sandwich, and which fruit, and which snack–I know what to expect when it comes to breakfast: DJ will have the most sugary cereal in the cabinet, with milk. Stephanie will usually have the same sugary cereal, though she may have a less sugary cereal, also with milk, sometimes with a glass of milk or a glass of water. Michelle will pick from any array of the available cereals (though Lucky Charms is typically a lock) and she eats it dry, with a glass of water.

Always. Every breakfast of every school day I have been here, Michelle has eaten her cereal dry. Until yesterday.

She came down for breakfast, the first one down. She poured herself a bowl of Lucky Charms. And she asked me to pour the milk for her.

“What?” I said, in a dramatic, shocked voice. “You’re having milk on your cereal?”

“Yeah,” she replied. “I don’t know, I just…thought I’d try it.”

And she repeated it today. And she announced it to my parents when we had dinner at their house last night.

I don’t know exactly how long her habit of eating her morning cereal dry stretches back–she says she can’t remember either. So why the change? Who knows?

And that’s what makes me marvel at watching these ever evolving mini-people. Who knows what they’ll like or dislike tomorrow or why? What spurs change, even small ones, in kids? Does it mean she’s starting to try to be more like her big sisters? Did she wake up that morning knowing she wanted to try it? Or did it just hit her as she poured the cereal? Or had she been thinking about it for weeks and finally made the decision?

And also, is there something I do every day that I could do a 180 on and like just as much?

I suppose calcium advocates vs. weight nutritionists will have to determine whether the additional milk is good for Michelle’s diet.

Sunday Post 7: Selfish me

A friend recently shared this quote with me:

Prosperity does not equal the favor of God, and adversity does not signal His absence.

That’s fairly easy to believe when your life is good.  Your wife dies, and you begin to question, why in the heck us?  I don’t think I believe we did something wrong to lose God’s favor, but there are a lot of other people out there who haven’t gone through what we’ve just been through.

 One time last year Michelle said, “Daddy, could we give mom’s cancer to someone else?” 

I asked, “Do you have anyone particular in mind?”  

She said, “No.”

“Honey, I don’t think we can give anyone mom’s cancer and I don’t believe anyone would take it if we could.  But I like that you’re thinking outside of the box.”

“I was just wondering.”

To be honest, I’ve looked at some and thought to myself:  Why couldn’t it have happened to them?  We do a lot more on this earth than they do  – especially Lisa (I’m sure I wasn’t thinking about YOU specifically when I had these thoughts, it was someone else).

If I think about my life honestly, even without Lisa, I have a LOT of blessings:  healthy and wonderful kids, a family that loves us enough to do our laundry and a bunch of other dirty stuff, financial security, incredible friends, and the list goes on and on.

Haven’t you seen folks who seem to have a really crappy life and yet they always seem happy and at ease with who they are and what they have?  I hate people like that.  I hate them because they make me look so selfish and bad.

At times I get annoyed at myself for spending so much time feeling sorry for me.  How can I, Danny Tanner, with all that God has given me, complain?

In my grandmothers final years, she developed some form of senility.  In her final months, she would sit and write “Count you many blessings” on a sheet of paper over and over and over again.  At that point in her life, it didn’t look like she had many.  I think it’s interesting that those are the words that stuck with her during the worst period of her life. 

I challenge you to make a list of your blessings.  I bet most of us have too many to count.

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