Marley and Aubrey

January 27, 2013 – Sunday morning

5:46 AM

Pentoga Road

It’s quiet, I’ve taken my shower, steam is rising from my cup of coffee, and the fire is crackling in the stove. I’m enjoying some Uncle Tom, “me time.” It’s quiet; wonderfully, beautifully, remarkably, quiet.

When I arose earlier, around 4:30 AM, Sargie insisted I take the baby monitor with me. I selfishly declined, feigning I’d never hear it while taking a shower; and, if the baby did wake up, what was I going to do other than bring her to our bed?

I don’t do little girl diapers. Changing one almost ten years ago on my oldest granddaughter was frightening. After years of changing boys’ diapers, I was quickly reminded girls are built differently. They are lacking parts.

So, I’m enjoying the quiet, the fire, the coffee, the “me time.”

Auntie Sargie teaching Marley how to play "Go Fish"

The little house on Pentoga Road was transformed into a whirlwind of activity on Saturday. What fun we had! Poor little Aubrey is teething. With bright red cheeks, she was a happy girl for most the day… until naptime. The normally cheerful pixie became surly, then inconsolable, as she cried and clung to her Auntie Sargie.

The last time she stayed with us, Uncle Tom was the hero. This time, I’m invisible. No amount of tickles, smiles, faces, or funny sounds can earn so much as a glance from the one-year-old, drooling, teething, munchkin.

Well, that’s not entirely true. I received some smiles yesterday while sharing my pancake with Aubrey. For ten minutes, we became BFF’s and she looked at me with huge, loving eyes. I thought the love was for me, but quickly realized it was for my pancakes smothered in maple syrup. Uncle Tom was just the means to the end.

After discovering we were out of mix Saturday morning, I resurrected Grandma Pennington’s Super Duper pancake recipe and made a special M-Cake for Marley… M being the first letter in her name. I also introduced Marley to sugar-coated strawberries after which she said she would like to stay with us next summer when the berries are ripening so she can eat more.

Marley and I are buddies. We’ve played on the Pilates ball, had a big snowball fight outside, talked, and shared stories of preschool and other life-changing events over the past twenty-four hours.

Oh yeah... doesn't get much better than an empty cardboard box. Marley said it was her spaceship and she was flying to the moon.

Marley absolutely adores her Auntie Sargie and they definitely enjoyed some girl-bonding time. When Sargie was in the bathroom, Marley was happy to keep her company, watching everything her Auntie did while talking a mile a minute. Later, they played “make up.”

I continue to be amazed at the difference between little boys and girls. Having four sons and living with the mother of four more, my life has always been surrounded by testosterone. I completely understand the Pull-My-Finger syndrome and the need of a young boy to explore, push the boundaries, want to drive a four-wheeler, snowmobile, or even go ice fishing.

Aubrey and Marley have no such ambitions. They don’t even test my newly built gates in front of the woodstove or steps. I told each they shouldn’t touch them and they don’t. My sons would have not only climbed on them, they’d have had a blanket stretched across each in an attempt to make a super hideout.

Hmm, who's watching who?

Marley and I had a great snowball fight outside, but it was a delicate one. There were no headshots or faces washed in snow. Rather, one would grab a handful of white fluff and gently pour the loose snow onto the other’s back and together, we’d giggle. It was more of a snow exchange rather than a fight.

I discovered Marley’s unfamiliar with snowmobiles and four-wheelers and is afraid of the woods. As Sargie advised, I need to acclimate her to the more rural lifestyle in baby steps and I heard her later tell Marley that Auntie Sargie was afraid when she first moved to Pentoga Road. I forget that unlike the Pennington boys, who grew up in the wilds of northern Maine, Marley’s a town girl and that’s okay. We’ve got years to play in the woods and on the water. I’ll teach her in small increments and she can learn to enjoy both.

But, indoors or out, we had lots of fun on Saturday. The Pilates ball, the one I lay on backwards to stretch my once-broken spine, seems to be the most favorite toy. Marley played with it for hours and Aubrey enjoyed occasionally pushing it around the house.

You can't beat watching Saturday morning cartoons while perched on a Pilates ball

A Happy Meal run was made into town late Saturday afternoon. Again, the difference between little girls and little boys; Marley made that Happy meal last for over an hour, nibbling at a chicken nugget, then breaking a French fry into several pieces and enjoying each. My boys would have eaten the entire meal, free toy included, in under two minutes, then asked what was for supper.

Little Aubrey quickly grew tired early Saturday evening. With rosy red cheeks and glassy eyes, she clung to her Auntie Sargie and when asked if she wanted to go to bed, she almost smiled. Aubrey was all done in, aching gums and all.

And so went Saturday. Today appears as though it will be a carbon copy. I’m not sure what special treat I’ll fix for breakfast. After all, we rarely have the little ones, so it has to be something fun; maybe French toast covered in sugar and cinnamon and sprinkled with chocolate chips.

Mommy and Daddy will be visiting this afternoon to pick up their most precious cargo. I think Sargie’s going to have pizza while as we attempt to get caught up on the weekend’s activities.

Sargie works tomorrow. Neighbor Mike, from Marquette, is driving down to his camp and wants to go ice fishing early in the morning. I told him I’d be ready. Other than Yooper Brother Mark and Jerad, he’s the only person who knows where I fish and my methods. Mike’s looking for a mess of crappies. I’ll attempt to pull out some guiding skills and see if we can’t catch some meat for his table.

There will be assignments pouring in and papers to grade. So far, classes are going well and I’m enjoying teaching this semester a great deal.

It’s time to get another cup of coffee and throw another log on the fire. After all, a man’s work is never done.

So are the tales from Pentoga Road…