Nicholas Alexander Snyder came smiling into the world the day before Valentine’s Day. Nick-Nack is a happy little boy! He smiles when he eats, he smiles when he toots, he smiles when he pulls Sasha’s hair. We have greatly improved our smiles per hour this year.
Nicholas’ arrival heralded the arrival of a special Moment of Truth for those of us hurtling toward middle age: the purchase of a minivan. Its probably bigger than a Dodge Neon (and it gets better gas mileage) but I painted orange and red flames on the side, so its pretty cool. Sherry (aka “Taxi Lady”) added approximately 530,000 miles to the odometer by driving the kids to their sporting events. Sarahannah, Sasha, and Matthew all played soccer this year--for different teams--making for some very early and lengthy Saturday mornings for us soccer parents. Sarahannah joined her grammar school volleyball team, because she seems adept at digging, setting up, and spiking. In volleyball, I mean. Matthew learned to ride his Thomas The Tank Engine bicycle (it has flames painted on the side), as well as numerous stunts that required balance, courage, and bandages. But he was healthy enough to enjoy his first Gator football game with his Dad. We ate pizza, pretzels, hot dogs, and soda. And then the game started.
An early highlight for the girls was taking a stretch limousine home from a school-sponsored Daddy-Daughter dance (no flames). They tagged along with their friends when I had to leave early. In my Ford Taurus.
But the Taurus is now gone, after the engine went and then the brakes and other parts and my patience went. So I “upgraded” to a 1989 Mercedes, better known here as the “Ghetto Benz.” Its only been towed twice and in the shop three times, leaving in its wake of expensive parts, high octane gas, and several perplexed mechanics. It is larger than a Dodge Neon.
Speaking of which, at our house, Sherry stayed in such fabulous shape with a special exercise regimen: jogging after Matthew, weight-lifting Nicholas, running around in circles looking for Sarahannah‘s lost homework, doing deep knee bends picking up Sasha‘s clothes scattered across the floor, and tuning up the Neon.
The highlight of my year at work was a short but exclusive interview with another father of a little girl named Sasha. Barack Obama told me his daughter’s name is really Natasha, “but she just seems like a Sasha.” He must know ours. And then he was elected President.
The desperate lowlight of my year at work was the passing of my co-worker Beth Younggren. She was a loving mom and wife, a passionate journalist, and a good friend. Her integrity was always her best business card.
With Nicholas joining us, for the most part, we kept our cars in the garage during the summer. Our vacations included holiday trips to such exotic locales as A) Burger King, B) Ocala, and C) the auto repair shop. Okay, I lied about B). We did manage a getaway to Daytona Beach, where the kids demonstrated their proficiency at underwater swimming, body surfing, and dodging the parade of cars on the beach. Nicholas smiled a lot and slept in his shaded portable crib on the beach. Our visit was enlivened when we discovered smoke in our room (a faulty bathroom fan). Later, we discovered various hotel employees in our room at inappropriate times, which prompted our departure from the establishment.
We endured Sarahannah’s first departure to sleepaway camp. She acquired great memories, new friendships, and a burgeoning faith in God. Sasha experienced a week without having to share her bedroom, and nearly disassembled Sarahannah’s bed as a hint to not come back. But she did, and in her newfound zeal, Sarahannah chose to be baptized at our church in September.
Her great determination and persistence finally paid off at the school’s annual student “bake off.” For three years Sarahannah had baked a pumpkin pie from a recipe handed down from her great-grandmother, Mam. This year, she took home the blue ribbon for “best pie.” Sasha also took home a blue ribbon for “presentation“--in her first try--for a “S’mores” pie. Sherry received no blue ribbon but got additional exercise cleaning up the kitchen after the girls were done baking.
Now that Matthew is in kindergarten we have three kids in school. Matt is learning to spell and read. He gets creative, too, in putting down the letters of his name: “Wematth.” He wrote the letters in order, but hadn’t been told they are supposed to be written from left to right. He loves to design and create things, really loves Legos, and gave voice to his work by calling it “craftivities.”
For Sasha, 3rd grade has been a breeze. At the moment our only worries are which full ride college scholarship she will choose. By then of course, she will have no problem sharing with four roommates a dorm room the size of a, well, you can guess where I’m going with this.
At age ten going on 16, Sarahannah is already looking forward to driving any kind of car, even a Neon. We told her to do the math on that, and she did. Which reminds me, she enjoys math in school, but really excels at history and social studies, just like her Daddy. That means she would have no profitable career field in which to exercise her skills.
Which is a real problem, because we keep telling these noisy kids that one day--preferably next Tuesday--they are going to have to take care of us in our old age. One of them had better hit the jackpot, and help us upgrade to at least a nice mid-size sedan.
