Bonding

Look carefully at the picture and you will notice a small face in the upper right hand window.

That is Grant and he is blowing kisses to me as I pull out of the driveway and head to work.  And it is so stinkin' cute.  Grant is definitely in that adorable zone.

Without a doubt I am getting cooler and cooler with Grant.  He cuddles with me, asks for me to tuck him in, and gives me unsolicited, "I love yous".  And if I am mowing then I always have a helper helping me push back and forth on the lawn.

It's nice to have my son looking up to me for fun, acknowledgement, confidence, and bonding.  That's what it is right?  We are bonding.  And I love it.

Yesterday, Grant took off the training wheels on his bike for the first time and pedaled for three whole seconds without me holding him.  He trusts me because the day prior he steadfastly announced he was n-e-v-e-r going to take off the training wheels. My hope is that we can extend that trust to the swimming pool this summer.

Because I am his new buddy, Grant is very cognizant of when I leave for work and always stops me for a hug and a kiss.  I cannot leave without it.  A few weeks ago I left very, very early in the morning.  The garage door must have woken Grant up because as I pulled away I saw the front door flung open with a half naked four year old, tears streaming down his eyes, running, yelling, "HUG!" He was immediately followed by a half naked 44 year old trying to catch him.

Grant said to me today, "I'll give you a hug and kiss now.  I'll be in the window, blowing kisses.  Waiting.  (pause for effect) Patiently."

So.

Stinkin'.

Cute.

Man Down, Man Down!

Grant was sent home early from Johnson Pond yesterday because he was throwing up. 

Grant spit up a lot as a baby.  A LOT.  Poor Lisa would get him in one outfit, sit him up, and then immedaitely have to change it.  Grant would projectile just enough to get it all over him - and sometimes on whoever was holding him.  Usually Lisa who then had to change her outfit too.  Once he hit his toddler years he stopped and then rarely - if ever puked.

Yesterday might have been the second time in memory that he truly could not keep anything down.  Not rice, not juice, not even water.  Lisa got the call and picked him up while I was at the University of Richmond on an inspection of their ROTC program.  By the time I got home Grant was sprawled out on a blanket, barf bucket next to his head.

That poor guy was curled up with absolutely zero enegy in the tank.  I lay down with him and we watched WALL-E and he fell asleep.  He kept on sleeping so I replayed half  the movie again. 

When Grant got up he was thirsty.  Fifteen minutes later water stayed down.  An hour later Pedialyte stayed down.  Some banana stayed down after that.  His energy was at half a tank as he played walkie-talkies with his brother.  Thankfully he hadn't napped through bedtime and he was asleep by 9:00pm.

At 5:55 he was on.  The mischeivous grin was back.

That's our boy.

 

Getting To The Sweet Spot

Grant Robert is four years old.
TJ is almost eight.
Lisa and I are young in mind and spirit and try to keep the body young as well.

The children are no longer toddlers who require diaper changing, feeding, or constant supervision.  They can dress themselves if we leave their clothes out for them.  They can ride bikes, play video games, and get from our house to Grandma's house all on their own.  They are boys now.  They fight and wrestle and hug and adore each other - all in the same moment.  They still listen (for the most part) to mom and dad and willingly demonstrate their love of us.  Grant still gives hugs and kisses and watches you leave from the window when you leave.  TJ is not opposed to holding dad's hand once in a while - not yet, at least.

The boys bring with them all of the fun and aggravation that Andy and I must have brought to our parents.  TJ is now allowed to go out on his own - without his little brother - to find his friends in the neighborhood.  It's nice to have him get on his bike and disappear to Austin's, or Owen's, or Nicholas' house.  And not disappear in a bad way - but in a way that allows him some earned freedom without us hovering over him.  It's not "free range" parenting, but it's close.  Soon enough - once the training wheels come off of Grant's bike, the two of them will be off for the afternoon - coming home at dinner time or when the sun comes down. 

And - oh - how I hope for that for them because it was what I remember from my youth.  The summer days lasted forever and were filled with adventure and missions, scrapes and scratches, sweat and pond water; and all our parents had to do was open the front door, call our names, and we headed home.

We are entering into that sweet spot where they are self sufficient enough to do somethings on their own but not so self sufficient they don't want us around.  I know those days are on the far horizon.  Those days where we are no longer cool enough to want to be seen with.  Where family vacations involve adolescents who prefer to be independent.

For now we can go on a bike ride or head to the beach or go hiking.  The opportunities are expanding.

I am enjoying this part of life.

Glad I Don't Use 35mm Film Anymore

Happy Easter 2015.


Our day was an easy one with a late start to the day, 9:30am service at crowded Fuquay Varina United Methodist Church, and a lazy sunny Sunday afternoon with family.  We never really picked up on egg hunts or egg coloring - although I have distinct memories of mom and Paas egg coloring kits with the little wire dippers.  The smell of vinegar and the fizzing of the tablets.Oi, what a mess we made back then.





Betty and Bobby came over for a Honey Baked Ham, potatoes bacon and green beans, rolls and a bottle of wine.  I even made brussel sprouts (with bacon) for the first time ever.  Brussel sprouts were a favorite of mine from when my grandmother, Mimi made them as a kid.  She used to make them in butter topped with bread crumbs.  We made them with bacon because, well, everything tastes better with bacon.  Aside from the oven not working properly for Lisa (it worked fine for me) dinner was great.  I realize we are not a dinner conversation family; at least not now with two boys and Bobby, but it was nice to have loved ones around the table.




We even heard from Samantha.  I got a text late at night wishing me a happy Easter and saying she missed me.  It is the first time she has reached out to us in over eight months.  There were no mixed messages or reading between the lines in the message, just a straight forward line of text.  It's a start.




The Easter Bunny left the boys new ties for Sunday service in their baskets.  Not clip-ons either.  I got to have some "dad time" helping the boys tie their ties.  Okay, I did it for them.  It was still fun.




Of course taking pictures of our two clowns was a different story. As you can see from the series of photos on the right, the phrase, "hold still and smile" does not translate well to young boys. These photos now show up on my phone and I laugh out loud every time I see them.  As funny as TJ is he will always have to play the straight man to Grant's clown. Grant plays to the camera so well and he absolutely knows how to goof off for it.



Happy Easter, "He is risen."

Saved A Life

Traffic stopped.

A truck up the road in a ditch; steam coming from under the hood.

Farther up the road another vehicle sits sideways.

Whatever happened I just missed witnessing it because people are only now stepping out their stopped cars.  All of this is oddly familiar and I pull over, turn off the car, take the keys and head to the truck.

Glass.  Mud.

The driver's door is jammed against the mud in the ditch and the passenger side door is locked.

The driver is unresponsive and we can't get in.  Another Samaritan trods through calf deep mud to the driver's side.  The window has been blasted out and there is still power to unlock the other door.  We open the door and then bend it beyond it's hinges to get better access.  She is still unresponsive but breathing.  The way she is slumped in the seat she needs to be moved to her back or she might not have a clear airway.  We work her onto her back and she immediately aspirates to we lay her on her side.

A woman knows CPR and is in the cab of the truck.  We all decide that we will leave the driver in the cab unless she stops breathing.

The victim's entire life is strewn about the truck; her shoes, her purse, her phone among the glass and puke and blood.

End of day traffic is still driving behind us because there are no emergency personnel on the scene.  I go to a mental place I once lived in as a career and give firm but clear directions to others to control traffic from making a bad scene worse.

The 911 call was made minutes ago and already sirens are in the distance.  It's amazing how helpless you feel waiting for more qualified people to show up.  All we could to for this unconscious woman was keep her airway open and check her pulse.

The ambulance is on the scene but there still aren't enough emergency personnel for both sites and I am back at the truck helping secure her onto a backboard and right onto a stretcher.  Aside from stabilizing her neck they don't wait too long to head to the hospital.

I walked back to the car after thanking the woman who checked vitals and the guy who went through the driver side door.

Why...

I got out of the car because it is instinctual.  Go to where help is needed and do your best.  Sometimes it works out and sometimes it doesn't.  I've seen people die who I've tried to help while others have survived.  I sleep better at night knowing I tried.

Maybe the world is only going to be a better place when helping one another becomes more instinctual and we strive to lift one another up in all circumstances - not just life or death.

Yodeling Squirrels Spring Outing 2015!

"Little ol' lady who?"

Last weekend was one of the craziest in a long time.

It was the Second Year Spring Outing for Y-Guides and the Yodeling Squirrels were headed for Arapahoe, NC for a weekend of activities, games, bonding, and general mayhem.  This year's theme was "Magic".  Y-Guides is a three year long, father/child program built on values, community, service, and building a stronger bond between father and son/daughter.  The Yodeling Squirrels is our tribe name.

This weekend was also one of the coldest of early spring with an Arctic Blast out of Canada that dropped temperatures into the low 20's over night.  Keep in mind that while were not necessarily "camping", per se, but we were sleeping in unheated cabins with nothing but wood shutters between us and the elements.   The entire trip down to Arapahoe it rained.  Within minutes of getting there, TJ was soaked, cold, and had no way to warm up inside.  Even before we got there the other dads has already planned their early departure from the weekend, plotting where in the Saturday program they could escape.

Friday night was also the ice cream social - not hot chocolate, clearly no one thought this through - a wild 30 or 40 minutes of 7, 8, and 9 year olds dancing, chasing, yelling, and getting their boys genes out (proper spelling).

We occupied our cabin and by 12:30am I was being tortured by grown men with deviated septums and sleep apnea issues.  The snoring lasted until 6:30am with no relief.  Thank goodness there was hot coffee at 7:00am as my son and I bundled in fleece and layers and hats to go out into the brisk morning air.  Saturday morning would alternate between clear and cloudy, windy or calm, cold or hints of warmth.

We had breakfast and hit the challenges; archery, tennis, BB guns, and canoeing right away.  For each activity you earned a punch on your punchcard that looked like the ace of hearts with icons on them.  I hit the archery balloon on my target and TJ hit the shaken can of soda at riflery, sending a stream of fizzy soda arching into the ground!  But, at the canoe lake, TJ saw that the zip line was open.  The zip line is a 40' tall, 500' long trip down a cable on a cable trolley attached to a seat harness into the water.  Water.  At this point you can refer back to paragraph three and re-read the description of the weather.

The rule was, as long as the air temperature and water temperature equalled over 100* combined then people would be allowed to go down the zip line.  I'm pretty sure the combined temperature was 101*.

Now, you had to go down the zip line AND go down the blue zoom water slide in order to ALL the icon punched on your card.  Then, and only then, did you earn a special trophy AND a special bear claw for display.  TJ wanted to go down.  I mulled it over.  You only get to do this once.  You only get to be cool for a short period of time.  You only get to impress your son in a big way while they are young.  But holy shit - not one of the dads who were trying it looked at all happy with their decision - kids character be damned.

Yet, there I was, 40' on top of the tower, already freezing in just shorts next to TJ who showed no hesitation whatsoever.  The water was so cold that it went beyond taking your breath away.  It was like millions of pins and needles all over your body - but oddly it was hot, like a burning sensation. We ran back to the towels and shirts we had and headed over to the zoom, 1, 2, 3, GO - then right to the shower.  Fifteen minutes of trying to bring my core body temperature back to 98.6*.  It didn't work.  I was cold for the rest of day despite layers and layers.

The rest of the day was used to filled out our card; shark tooth pile, "magic" tricks, and obstacle course.  We even went to the snake show.  I am not fond of snakes at all.  At. All. This gentleman brought a truck full.  TJ was a little tentative but then helped hold a 14', 120lb yellow python that took seven dads to help pull out of it's box.  Guess who helped put it back in.  Yep, this guy.  I faced my fear and held this massive creature like it was a heavy log or a toddler being put to bed.  Then someone handed TJ a 12" long hog nosed snake and his tolerance lasted about 43 seconds...and then he handed it to me.  And so there is video of me holding a small, harmless snake for 21 seconds before finding a willing and competent adult to take it from me.

We all had dinner but the exodus was on.  Clearly there were less dads and kids than at lunch or breakfast.  I told TJ who was dejected but went along with it.  There was no way I was going to spend another night freezing while listening to grown men snore just feet away from me so we packed up and trekked back to Fuquay-Varina.

And as crazy as that sounds it wasn't all!  I also had Reserves this weekend and drove to Greensboro on Friday morning, met with my staff, drove to Fuquay to pick up TJ by 2pm and then drove down to camp.  On Sunday morning?  I drove back to Greensboro to finish out the weekend with my Soldiers.

I hope to leave my sons with good memories of a dad who wasn't afraid to get hypothermia or hold a massive snake - or go on roller coasters or play in the surf.  I want them to know that at the times it would have been easier to say something was too hard, that their dad put them first as often as possible.

That is the kind of dad I want them to be someday.