Hanging with Karlee: Part 4

And on the fourth day, God declared there would be a trip to the library and to the Dallas Aquarium. Not really God, obviously, but that was on our itinerary, and the library just happened to be Karlee's request. I couldn't have been happier. Like with Legoland, the library is the type of place where I can have some fun.

Back in Odessa, when Tim was trying to convince Karlee to come to Dallas (you know, the whole Unicorn Land episode), he asked her where she'd like to go while in Dallas. One of the first places she mentioned was the library. My eyes lit up. To top it off, we'd be going to the first of two museums: the Dallas Aquarium. Another score!

Thankfully, after the long and exhausting day at Hurricane Harbor, we didn't need to get up quite so early. The books and the animals could wait for a more decent wake-up time. Once again, we participated in our ritual. Tim and I got up first. I took a shower, drank a cup of coffee, and we both started to make breakfast. Karlee did a "big stretch" and bounded out of bed, ready to play, but only after a trip to the bathroom.

After breakfast, Karlee and I played "Animal Shop" while Tim took a shower. Another ritual of sorts then took place when Tim was ready: "Karlee, come in here so I can brush your hair."

Any mother, daughter, or relative/friend of a mother-daughter combo who has either witnessed or experienced the "Let's brush your hair" scenario can tell you that it can be quite the ordeal. All throughout Tim and Karlee's "Hair Brush" sessions, I kept having flashbacks to my own childhood, back when my mother and sister used to have their own "Hair Brush" sessions. As a boy with short hair, I did not experience such sessions directly, but I must say witnessing them is just as traumatic--I imagine--as experiencing them.

Think of the elements of the scenario: There's the adult, trying to get everyone ready at a decent hour; there's the child, with a nanosecond long attention span (wanting both to go and to play just a bit longer); and then there's the brush, the tool of torture. Of course, add in the fact that Karlee moves so much all the time, even while sleeping, and you have a potentially tear-filled scenario just waiting to happen, and not just from Tim either.

Each time Tim brushed Karlee's hair the dialogue went something like this:

Karlee: "Ow! You're hurting me!"

Tim: "If you'd stay still it wouldn't hurt as much."

Karlee: "Well, if you'd stop brushing it, it wouldn't hurt."

Gotta love a kid's logic, right? For a kid, social conventions are illogical (and to be honest, quite a few of them are).

What I found humorous--though Tim would disagree--was the fact that all the hard work put into the child's hair was defeated within seconds, all thanks to the car seat. See, the moment Karlee sat down in her booster seat, she'd rub her head all over the back seat, creating a fantastic mess of hair thanks to all the static electricity. Naturally, we started carrying a brush with us at all times. Is this how a "Mom's Purse" starts? Where gradually, over the years, parents just start collecting various objects as they need them, so that by adolescence parents will have everything anyone could ever need, all located withing a parent's bag? I can so see that happening. If Tim and I are to be parents, we must get bigger bags.

At the library, it turns out that Karlee isn't all that interested in "kid's" books. No, she's more interested in "reading" thicker, more mature books. I found this fascinating since Karlee can only recognize a few letters and words at the moment. The books she chose were massive compared not just to the normal kid's books, but also to her own physical size.

She'd just wander the isles pulling books at random, whatever looked interesting to her. Tim and I tried to pull out books more appropriate for her, and ones we could read to her in one day, preferably in a few minutes since Karlee's attention span is so short.

Speaking of short attention span. Karlee wanders everywhere at random, very much like electrons in an atom I imagine. She would walk to one area, stay there for a minute or two, and then dart off to the opposite end of wherever we were. At the library, she started at the picture books, then moved to the bigger books, then moved to a small theater room that was playing a documentary (she didn't say there long at all), and she'd go to the computers to play games. And after making one circle, she'd do it all over again, multiple times. We walked over that floor of the library following along in her wake. Apparently, a library can be just as exhausting as a trip to Hurricane Harbor, but it's the kind of exhaustion I do find satisfying.

Frustration did mount however because Karlee never wanted to leave any place we took her to. I've mentioned this before, but it bares repeating: It's like if she leaves, she'll never get to go there EVER AGAIN, and so must experience everything multiple times, just to make sure she gets in enough fun time.

As for the library, she wanted to take everything home with us. Everything. All the books, all the magazines, all the computers, and I'm sure she would've asked all the kids and all the employees to join us at home as well.

Even so, after some negotiations and some pleading on our part, we finally checked out (we ended up only taking three books and two movies). Next up, lunch!

Lunch was at one of the McDonald's downtown, a McDonald's that cannot be reached unless you walk or pay for parking, apparently. It was here that I introduced Karlee to a game called "Plants vs. Zombies" (incidentally, I was turned on to this game by Karlee's Dallas friend, Peyton). So if Karlee's mother, father, grandparents, aunts, and uncles are wondering what Karlee may be referring to when asking about "That Zombie Game," it's "Plants vs. Zombies." Truthfully, it's an addictive and fun game, and it's only three dollars for the iPhone edition.

Karlee soon became as nearly obsessed with the game as I am. Any time she felt bored, she'd ask for the "Zombie" game. It was a good way to distract her while Tim was getting our food, so she wouldn't keep asking "Where's Uncle TJ?" Invariably, after just a moment of sitting, she'd ask the above question, and I'd respond with, "He's in line getting our food."

"Why hasn't he ordered yet?"

"He's in line. It's not his turn to order yet."

"Where's our food?"

It's amazing how a child can transform a few minutes of waiting into an eternity of questions, all circling the same concept: wait.

The Dallas Aquarium proceeded lunch, and once again we were treated with the arduous task of keeping up with a four-year-old. She found everything fascinating. Thus, she wanted to see every single animal the aquarium had. She peeped into every cage, pointed at every source of water, and peered into every nook and cranny of the aquarium. It was all we could do to keep up with her. She wandered off without the slightest regard for her proximity to us. We had some severe difficulties with taking our own pictures and keeping her within sight.

Karlee is brave and unafraid of any form of animal, even the most grotesque. Indeed, she seemed the most fascinated by spiders, snakes, sharks, turtles, and alligators. However, she also liked the more kid-friendly flamingos. And she especially enjoyed a tribal dance ritual that was performed at the aquarium. In fact, she revealed her Texas roots as she watched one of the dancers play with fire.

"If he keeps playing with that fire, he'll turn into a steak."

Karlee sure does enjoy her steaks.

The last stop on our trip to the aquarium was its store, and for once Karlee didn't spend much time in the store. We made it a point that she was to only get one toy from the store. Tim got her a small penguin, a small leopard, and a dolphin necklace. He has always been a sucker for those big eyes of Karlee's.

Later, back at home, we decided to make our way to the pool, where Karlee tried swimming, jumping, and playing hide-and-seek with her toys. She even met a nice older gentlemen with rainbow colored toenails, which Karlee identified as "Funny."

Speaking of rainbows, Karlee seemed to have a problem with Tim and I calling each other "Babe." This is in addition to Karlee thinking that I needed a girlfriend. Tim told her that I didn't need a girlfriend, that he was all I needed.

I told Karlee myself that I didn't want a girlfriend. To which she replied, "But girls are pretty."

"You can have both Uncle TJ and a girlfriend."

"Oh really!?"

Once again, the wonder of a child's logic.

Needless to say, Tim and I kept calling each other "babe," and Karlee eventually got over it.  She even had a nice conversation with her new rainbow-toed friend. Children have the most accepting hearts. I witnessed this in the innumerable friends Karlee made throughout her trip to Dallas; she accepted everyone as a friend.

It would seem that it's our responsibility to help maintain that level of acceptance in a child's heart. Like with a child's own natural curiosity, acceptance needs to be nurtured and encouraged so there's little chance for hate and intolerance to gain a foothold in his/her heart.