Our daughter wants a dog. Our son would like one too but he doesn't yet understand that they can come home and live with you. Caelyn however, she really wants a dog. She has told us so on numerous occasions.
Perhaps the most humorous hint was given when I was leaving for the pet store to pick up some fish supplies. As I was walking toward the back door, Caelyn called out very nonchalantly, "While you're out, do you mind picking up a dog?"
Whether or not to get a dog seems like a simple enough decision. Do we want one or not? Of course, that is the mistake so many people make and why so many end up at a shelter. A dog is huge commitment financially and emotionally. Not to mention all the care it will need.
This brings me to my dilemma. I would love for my children to have the experience of a pet they can actively interact with. Fish are nice to look at but they don't exactly play fetch or curl up next to you. Of course, they don't need to be walked in 15 degree weather either.
With two small children, or more accurately, two small tornadoes, we have enough trouble keeping up the house as it is. Bring in the destructive properties of a puppy and well, you can only imagine.
Then there is the day to day care the dog will need. While my daughter gladly says she will help, a five year old can't do the job. And she surely wont be taking out the dog in the pouring rain or freezing cold. While my wife will help, she works full time so that leaves mostly me.
Do I want to be one of those people I see walking up and down the block with a bag of poop in their hand? Do I want to freeze my butt off so a dog can pee? Do I want to be responsible for the care and maintenance of another member of our family?
If I am honest, the answer is I don't. I really don't.
It's not that I don't like dogs, because I do. We had several as I was growing up and I have fond memories of most of them. One dog in particular sticks out in my mind. It was a Irish Setter who was very protective of me and my brother.
I remember when we would rough house with my step-father, this dog would find a vantage point, such as the couch, that was above us. If my brother or I let out so much as a tiny help, this dog would jump down and get in my step-father's face. We never had to worry about anyone messing with us when that dog was near.
I think my children would be better off for the experience of having a dog around. It would bring them joy and love and eventually, it would bring them pain when it got old and died. All of these are important lessons in life. It would also be a great way to learn responsibility and how to care for another life as they would have to help with the dog. It would be a new member of the family that could grow up with them.
That brings me back to not wanting to be the poop carrying guy freezing his butt off in the winter. After all, I don't want to change diapers, especially poop filled ones, but I do out of love for my family.
After wresting with this for a while, the conclusion I have come to is that while I don't want to out in the cold carrying poop around in a plastic bag, I want my children to experience the joy of a dog more.
I want them to know what it is like to have a pet they can love and loves them back. I want them to have a companion that grows with them. I want them to experience the joy of a tail wagging greeting and even the sorrow of a chewed up barbie doll. And if I can teach it to attack any boys that come around my daughter, all the better.
Now, it is just a matter of what kind of dog and when.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Saturday, December 4, 2010
Anxiety
A few weeks ago, I had my regularly scheduled check up with my cardiologist. While in the hospital about a year and a half ago, the cardiologist who was brought in to consult on my high blood pressure treatment took an interest in my case. As he put it, he was determined to figure it out and wanted me to continue to see him when I was released. As a result, every 3 or 4 months I go for a check up.
This last visit, he was happy enough with what he saw he decided to lower the dosage on the beta blocker I am taking. Due to the Thanksgiving holiday and the complete changing of my schedule, I decided to wait until this past week to make the change to the lower dose.
Every time I have my medication lowered or in some cases dropped completely, I am happy at the progress I am making. I am also anxious about what will happen. Will my blood pressure shoot up? Will it slowly creep up as my system adjusts? These fears are a bit irrational. If the med change didn't go well, I could always go back to what was working before. I know this yet each time I sit down to take my blood pressure, I feel anxious.
Anxiety can be contagious. In the case of blood pressure, particularly so as it will raise the numbers. This will in turn cause more anxiety and, well, you can probably guess where that leads. So I have to be careful when I take a reading. I almost have to trick myself into it so that I don't have long to think about it.
Wednesday, I received a good lesson on how these fears really are a waste of time.
The weather Wednesday was terrible here. It wasn't particularly cold but there was heavy rain and wind. At times the rain was coming down sideways. There was flooding and more than a few tree branches were blown down.
It was as I was walking across the deck in the back of our house that I received my lesson. I had been anxious most of the day. It happens sometimes. A little idea gets stuck in my head and I can't get it out. I figured if there was going to be any dramatic change in my blood pressure after the dosage drop, Wednesday was going to be the day.
This thought stayed in the back of my mind all morning. Even when my readings were good, I couldn't shake that feeling. The Bible is very clear in that it says, "Do not worry." - Matthew 6:25 It also points out that no one can add anything to their life by worrying yet, there I was doing just that.
So, back to me walking on our deck. I was heading out to the van to pick up Caelyn from school. The deck is made of wood and as I started down the steps, I slipped, fell backward and slid down the 5 or 6 steps to the concrete below.
It hurt. It hurt a lot.
Fortunately, I am OK. The only damage, other than my pride, is a thick nasty looking but not very deep scratch that goes most of the length of my forearm.
It occurred to me later that I could have really been hurt. I could have easily broken a bone. What if I had hit my head on a stair or the concrete? Things could have gone bad for me really quickly. I thank God they did not.
Then I remembered I had spent so much of the day worrying about my health in the form of my blood pressure. What a pointless waste of time. I could worry about my blood pressure all day, every day and still get hurt by a simple act like walking down some stairs.
Worry is pointless. We never know when our lives may change quickly for good or ill. I don't know what tomorrow holds. Nobody does. But I do know that worry will only ruin my today. It is something that I was reminded of on Wednesday and will all to often and quickly forget. But it is something I hope to remind myself of everyday.
This last visit, he was happy enough with what he saw he decided to lower the dosage on the beta blocker I am taking. Due to the Thanksgiving holiday and the complete changing of my schedule, I decided to wait until this past week to make the change to the lower dose.
Every time I have my medication lowered or in some cases dropped completely, I am happy at the progress I am making. I am also anxious about what will happen. Will my blood pressure shoot up? Will it slowly creep up as my system adjusts? These fears are a bit irrational. If the med change didn't go well, I could always go back to what was working before. I know this yet each time I sit down to take my blood pressure, I feel anxious.
Anxiety can be contagious. In the case of blood pressure, particularly so as it will raise the numbers. This will in turn cause more anxiety and, well, you can probably guess where that leads. So I have to be careful when I take a reading. I almost have to trick myself into it so that I don't have long to think about it.
Wednesday, I received a good lesson on how these fears really are a waste of time.
The weather Wednesday was terrible here. It wasn't particularly cold but there was heavy rain and wind. At times the rain was coming down sideways. There was flooding and more than a few tree branches were blown down.
It was as I was walking across the deck in the back of our house that I received my lesson. I had been anxious most of the day. It happens sometimes. A little idea gets stuck in my head and I can't get it out. I figured if there was going to be any dramatic change in my blood pressure after the dosage drop, Wednesday was going to be the day.
This thought stayed in the back of my mind all morning. Even when my readings were good, I couldn't shake that feeling. The Bible is very clear in that it says, "Do not worry." - Matthew 6:25 It also points out that no one can add anything to their life by worrying yet, there I was doing just that.
So, back to me walking on our deck. I was heading out to the van to pick up Caelyn from school. The deck is made of wood and as I started down the steps, I slipped, fell backward and slid down the 5 or 6 steps to the concrete below.
It hurt. It hurt a lot.
Fortunately, I am OK. The only damage, other than my pride, is a thick nasty looking but not very deep scratch that goes most of the length of my forearm.
It occurred to me later that I could have really been hurt. I could have easily broken a bone. What if I had hit my head on a stair or the concrete? Things could have gone bad for me really quickly. I thank God they did not.
Then I remembered I had spent so much of the day worrying about my health in the form of my blood pressure. What a pointless waste of time. I could worry about my blood pressure all day, every day and still get hurt by a simple act like walking down some stairs.
Worry is pointless. We never know when our lives may change quickly for good or ill. I don't know what tomorrow holds. Nobody does. But I do know that worry will only ruin my today. It is something that I was reminded of on Wednesday and will all to often and quickly forget. But it is something I hope to remind myself of everyday.
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Junkie: Thoughts About My Brother
My brother is a junkie. I know there are some who will take offense at the term. Undoubtedly some one in my family will tell me I shouldn't call him that. They will say he is an addict. They will say he has a disease and I would not argue against that. But there is power in words. Addict or illness do not adequately convey what he has done. It doesn't cover what he has put his family and friends through. Junkie does.
There is a physical reaction to the word junkie that other terms do not create. The word creates strong images and feelings in just about everyone so it is that I choose that word carefully and intentionally.
If you are a Facebook friend of mine, you know that I have been asking for prayers for my brother. As I write this, we still don't know exactly where he is. We know he is in Austin and as of a couple of days ago, we know he is alive. He has made contact with family members at times via a payphone. We also know that he is using heroin once again. We don't know what may come next.
For several years my brother was clean. Most of that time he was in prison but when he got out, he stayed clean for quite a while. He was clean long enough that I actually believed he had made it this time. I believed in him for the first time since, well, since we were kids. Now, I hope one day I will believe in him again, but I don't know if I ever will.
You see, not only is my brother a junkie but he also is a liar and a thief. He is a manipulator. He is selfish and lazy. He simply cannot be trusted by anyone. Anything he says and does has to be questioned. He has proven time and time again that he will steal anything from anyone. Nothing and no one is off limits. If he cares about anyone other than himself, it rarely shows.
I am sure some of you think this harsh, and it is, but that does not mean it is not true. While I would be lying if I said I was not angry, this is not written out of anger.
My brother started down this road at the age of 12. That was over 25 years ago. For 25 years his family and friends have been putting up with lies, manipulations, thefts, disappearances and prison trips.
If you were to look at my brother's rap sheet you would be amazed that he is ever let out of jail. If you didn't know him and read what he has done, the only conclusion you could come to is that he is a lowlife. That is a hard thing for me to do. He is my brother, my children's uncle and yet, there is no real evidence that he is a good person. It is something that I struggle with whenever I think of him.
He has been given more second chances and more opportunities than anyone I have ever met or even heard of. This is because he is good looking and charming. If he were fat, if he were ugly, if he lacked the social skills to charm people, he probably would never have gotten as far as he has. He talks a real good game. He looks the part. People want to believe him and want to help him. They don't see what he is but what they want him to be. I have done that as well.
The drugs. It's the drugs. I have heard that for years. It is the drugs that cause him to act this way. I have no doubt that is true. I have seen him when he is clean. I have seen him when he is walking with God and he is truly a bright light in a dark world. But he always snuffs out the light with the junk. It makes me wonder, which is the aberration, the light or the dark.
Within the last few weeks, he has stolen from my dad, disappeared twice, was hospitalized with a life threatening staph infection and is now living on the streets. It only took him 5 days to forget he almost died and once again head out to live on the streets so he can continue to use.
He claims he wants help. He says he is trying to get into a rehab. I hope and pray this is true. For now though, he plans to keep using until a bed becomes available. His plan, he says, is to just use enough to take the edge off. Time will tell how serious he is about rehab.
So why a I writing this? It's a good question. Most of my posts are about the kids. And in a way this is as well because I am left with how to explain all this to my daughter. She has only met her uncle once for a few days but asks about him often. She understands he is my little brother like she has a little brother of her own. She loves her uncle but doesn't know or understand what he is.
I don't know if my brother will make it this time. If he doesn't change, his luck will run out eventually. It always does So the past few weeks have had me wondering, not for the first time, how to explain to her that her uncle is dead. How do I explain that to a five year old if the time comes?
When my brother was in the hospital with the staph infection, I could not hide from Caelyn that he was sick. There were too any phone calls and quiet conversations. She knew something was wrong with her uncle. She would ask to hold her mother and my hands while she prayed to God for his well being. I would sit amazed at her simple but faith filled prayer, "God, please keep uncle Dorian safe and help him get better."
This has also had me wondering about the loss of innocence. How early is too early to talk to your children about how harsh this world can be? About it's dangers? When should you talk to your child about how bad decisions when you are 12 can haunt you and all those who care about you for decades to come? How do you make them understand?
I have no answers. Only questions. But for now, my prayers are simple. I pray that my brother will out live our parents. I pray that I will not have to explain to my daughter that her uncle died. And I pray that one day she will get to meet the person we all hope my brother will be.
There is a physical reaction to the word junkie that other terms do not create. The word creates strong images and feelings in just about everyone so it is that I choose that word carefully and intentionally.
If you are a Facebook friend of mine, you know that I have been asking for prayers for my brother. As I write this, we still don't know exactly where he is. We know he is in Austin and as of a couple of days ago, we know he is alive. He has made contact with family members at times via a payphone. We also know that he is using heroin once again. We don't know what may come next.
For several years my brother was clean. Most of that time he was in prison but when he got out, he stayed clean for quite a while. He was clean long enough that I actually believed he had made it this time. I believed in him for the first time since, well, since we were kids. Now, I hope one day I will believe in him again, but I don't know if I ever will.
You see, not only is my brother a junkie but he also is a liar and a thief. He is a manipulator. He is selfish and lazy. He simply cannot be trusted by anyone. Anything he says and does has to be questioned. He has proven time and time again that he will steal anything from anyone. Nothing and no one is off limits. If he cares about anyone other than himself, it rarely shows.
I am sure some of you think this harsh, and it is, but that does not mean it is not true. While I would be lying if I said I was not angry, this is not written out of anger.
My brother started down this road at the age of 12. That was over 25 years ago. For 25 years his family and friends have been putting up with lies, manipulations, thefts, disappearances and prison trips.
If you were to look at my brother's rap sheet you would be amazed that he is ever let out of jail. If you didn't know him and read what he has done, the only conclusion you could come to is that he is a lowlife. That is a hard thing for me to do. He is my brother, my children's uncle and yet, there is no real evidence that he is a good person. It is something that I struggle with whenever I think of him.
He has been given more second chances and more opportunities than anyone I have ever met or even heard of. This is because he is good looking and charming. If he were fat, if he were ugly, if he lacked the social skills to charm people, he probably would never have gotten as far as he has. He talks a real good game. He looks the part. People want to believe him and want to help him. They don't see what he is but what they want him to be. I have done that as well.
The drugs. It's the drugs. I have heard that for years. It is the drugs that cause him to act this way. I have no doubt that is true. I have seen him when he is clean. I have seen him when he is walking with God and he is truly a bright light in a dark world. But he always snuffs out the light with the junk. It makes me wonder, which is the aberration, the light or the dark.
Within the last few weeks, he has stolen from my dad, disappeared twice, was hospitalized with a life threatening staph infection and is now living on the streets. It only took him 5 days to forget he almost died and once again head out to live on the streets so he can continue to use.
He claims he wants help. He says he is trying to get into a rehab. I hope and pray this is true. For now though, he plans to keep using until a bed becomes available. His plan, he says, is to just use enough to take the edge off. Time will tell how serious he is about rehab.
So why a I writing this? It's a good question. Most of my posts are about the kids. And in a way this is as well because I am left with how to explain all this to my daughter. She has only met her uncle once for a few days but asks about him often. She understands he is my little brother like she has a little brother of her own. She loves her uncle but doesn't know or understand what he is.
I don't know if my brother will make it this time. If he doesn't change, his luck will run out eventually. It always does So the past few weeks have had me wondering, not for the first time, how to explain to her that her uncle is dead. How do I explain that to a five year old if the time comes?
When my brother was in the hospital with the staph infection, I could not hide from Caelyn that he was sick. There were too any phone calls and quiet conversations. She knew something was wrong with her uncle. She would ask to hold her mother and my hands while she prayed to God for his well being. I would sit amazed at her simple but faith filled prayer, "God, please keep uncle Dorian safe and help him get better."
This has also had me wondering about the loss of innocence. How early is too early to talk to your children about how harsh this world can be? About it's dangers? When should you talk to your child about how bad decisions when you are 12 can haunt you and all those who care about you for decades to come? How do you make them understand?
I have no answers. Only questions. But for now, my prayers are simple. I pray that my brother will out live our parents. I pray that I will not have to explain to my daughter that her uncle died. And I pray that one day she will get to meet the person we all hope my brother will be.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
Taekwon-do
Around six months ago our daughter started expressing an interest in karate. I found out about this interest the way I usually find out about her new interests, she walked up one day out of the blue and told me she wanted to try karate. As she didn't know specifically what karate was, she meant martial arts in general . I still don't know what prompted her interest.
Our daughter's timing was impeccable. Kerry and I had considered starting Caelyn in a martial arts class for some time. I had even started looking around at what was available though not seriously.
One afternoon in the beginning of August, I found myself at a playground with the kids. Caelyn had found a boy (why does it always seem to be a boy) about her age to play with. I was talking to his mom when she called out to her son that they would be leaving soon for taekwon-do. This got my interest as Caelyn's statement about trying karate had been only a few days before.
I asked her where her son took classes and what it was like. She told me about her son's experience at the dojang and I was impressed by what I heard. In mid-August I scheduled a trial class. That one class was all it took. Caelyn was hooked. We signed her up on the spot.
She has no scheduled class. With her enrollment, she is allowed to attend any age and belt appropriate class twice a week. Normally, I take her on Monday and Thursday afternoons but this does not stop her from asking almost every day if that day is a taekwon-do day.
It is fun to see her so excited about something. It is also great to see the intensity and seriousness with which she approaches it. The focus she shows in class is something that I hope manifests itself in other areas of her life.
This past weekend she tested for, and acquired, her white belt with a yellow stripe. This is the first level for children above the beginners white belt. It was a very exciting day for her.
A few weeks before the testing day, one of the dojang's employees told me I should expect to be approached about Caelyn's testing for the belt. When I told Caelyn about it, she was thrilled. When the master instructor came over to us a couple of classes later and formally invited her to test, she was beside herself. It was one of the few times I have seen her speechless.
When the master instructor left, she simply looked at me with eyes ablaze and said, "I want that belt."
So, Saturday was the day for her to test and show what she could do. There were a large number of children testing that afternoon and they were tested either individually or in a group of no more than five. Caelyn's group contained four people and was the first to go.
She performed well. I won't pretend to know the how well, but it was well enough to pass and receive her new yellow striped belt. She also broke a board with a kick. Breaking the board was a great thrill for her. When we got home, she wanted me to hold it for her so she could break it some more. When I told her that wasn't a good idea, she asked me to get her more stuff to break.
It was a very exciting day all around. As I sat there and watched her perform, I couldn't help but smile and admire her determination. Her excitement for taekwon-do is even stronger after her successful test. As we were driving home from the test with her certificate, new belt and broken board in hand, she calls to me from the back seat and says, "Daddy, now I want the green striped belt."
Below are some pics from the test. You can find the full video of the test here.
Our daughter's timing was impeccable. Kerry and I had considered starting Caelyn in a martial arts class for some time. I had even started looking around at what was available though not seriously.
One afternoon in the beginning of August, I found myself at a playground with the kids. Caelyn had found a boy (why does it always seem to be a boy) about her age to play with. I was talking to his mom when she called out to her son that they would be leaving soon for taekwon-do. This got my interest as Caelyn's statement about trying karate had been only a few days before.
I asked her where her son took classes and what it was like. She told me about her son's experience at the dojang and I was impressed by what I heard. In mid-August I scheduled a trial class. That one class was all it took. Caelyn was hooked. We signed her up on the spot.
She has no scheduled class. With her enrollment, she is allowed to attend any age and belt appropriate class twice a week. Normally, I take her on Monday and Thursday afternoons but this does not stop her from asking almost every day if that day is a taekwon-do day.
It is fun to see her so excited about something. It is also great to see the intensity and seriousness with which she approaches it. The focus she shows in class is something that I hope manifests itself in other areas of her life.
This past weekend she tested for, and acquired, her white belt with a yellow stripe. This is the first level for children above the beginners white belt. It was a very exciting day for her.
A few weeks before the testing day, one of the dojang's employees told me I should expect to be approached about Caelyn's testing for the belt. When I told Caelyn about it, she was thrilled. When the master instructor came over to us a couple of classes later and formally invited her to test, she was beside herself. It was one of the few times I have seen her speechless.
When the master instructor left, she simply looked at me with eyes ablaze and said, "I want that belt."
So, Saturday was the day for her to test and show what she could do. There were a large number of children testing that afternoon and they were tested either individually or in a group of no more than five. Caelyn's group contained four people and was the first to go.
She performed well. I won't pretend to know the how well, but it was well enough to pass and receive her new yellow striped belt. She also broke a board with a kick. Breaking the board was a great thrill for her. When we got home, she wanted me to hold it for her so she could break it some more. When I told her that wasn't a good idea, she asked me to get her more stuff to break.
It was a very exciting day all around. As I sat there and watched her perform, I couldn't help but smile and admire her determination. Her excitement for taekwon-do is even stronger after her successful test. As we were driving home from the test with her certificate, new belt and broken board in hand, she calls to me from the back seat and says, "Daddy, now I want the green striped belt."
Below are some pics from the test. You can find the full video of the test here.
(watching the older kids warm up)
(waiting to begin while in ready stance)
(getting ready to kick the board)
(bowing out after the test was completed)
(triumphant with new belt and board in hand)
Friday, November 5, 2010
New Routines
It has been quite a while since I posted something. Far too long in my opinion. My apologies to my legions of fans waiting anxiously for my next musing on life, the universe and everything. OK, maybe it is just my mom but still, a guy can dream.
This past summer I planned on writing a lot. It's amazing how quickly kids can change your ideas about what will be happening. Instead, over the summer, this monkey danced. Don't get me wrong, it was a great summer with the kids. However, being the primary form of entertainment for two small children can leave you unable to put complete sentences together at the end of the day so I have quite a few unfinished blog posts sitting on my net book.
For me, writing is a lot like exercising. When I am in the habit, it becomes part of my routine and I feel incomplete without it. But if I slide a little here or there, it is real easy to look up and a month or two has passed. That is what has happened since my last post.
In that last post, I wrote about our daughter's first day of kindergarten. Since then, the days have seen us adjusting to the new routines that kindergarten now brings.
Our town's school system is a magnet program. There are six elementary schools here and while you don't have carte blanche to choose your school, you do list your preferences. There is a pretty good chance you will get your first choice and we did.
While all the schools here are very good, we choose our daughter's school for two reasons. The first is they put a lot of emphasis on character building in the children. The second is they have close ties to a local university with a teaching program. In addition to the large number of student teachers, the university is only a couple of blocks away and the children get to spend time on a college campus before they can even spell university.
Our school system also has an extensive bus program. Any child who lives more than a mile from their school qualifies for bus transportation. We miss qualifying by one block. The result is we have two morning routines based upon the weather. Good weather, we walk to school, bad weather, I drive. It took some getting used to but we finally have the routines down usually with very little yelling or threats from me.
Our son is enjoying his sister free time. Much like during Caelyn's time in preschool, Caleb enjoys having complete access to all his sister's things. Our daughter loves her school and according to her teacher is doing very well. I have adjusted as well but have been wondering where the free time I was hoping for has been hiding as I haven't seen it anywhere.
There have been many other things that have happened since my last post. We went apple picking with a group from church, our son turned two and Halloween are the ones that have the best stories and pictures but those will have to wait for another time. There is no school today due to teacher conferences and this monkey must dance but I promise not to stay away so long this time.
This past summer I planned on writing a lot. It's amazing how quickly kids can change your ideas about what will be happening. Instead, over the summer, this monkey danced. Don't get me wrong, it was a great summer with the kids. However, being the primary form of entertainment for two small children can leave you unable to put complete sentences together at the end of the day so I have quite a few unfinished blog posts sitting on my net book.
For me, writing is a lot like exercising. When I am in the habit, it becomes part of my routine and I feel incomplete without it. But if I slide a little here or there, it is real easy to look up and a month or two has passed. That is what has happened since my last post.
In that last post, I wrote about our daughter's first day of kindergarten. Since then, the days have seen us adjusting to the new routines that kindergarten now brings.
Our town's school system is a magnet program. There are six elementary schools here and while you don't have carte blanche to choose your school, you do list your preferences. There is a pretty good chance you will get your first choice and we did.
While all the schools here are very good, we choose our daughter's school for two reasons. The first is they put a lot of emphasis on character building in the children. The second is they have close ties to a local university with a teaching program. In addition to the large number of student teachers, the university is only a couple of blocks away and the children get to spend time on a college campus before they can even spell university.
Our school system also has an extensive bus program. Any child who lives more than a mile from their school qualifies for bus transportation. We miss qualifying by one block. The result is we have two morning routines based upon the weather. Good weather, we walk to school, bad weather, I drive. It took some getting used to but we finally have the routines down usually with very little yelling or threats from me.
Our son is enjoying his sister free time. Much like during Caelyn's time in preschool, Caleb enjoys having complete access to all his sister's things. Our daughter loves her school and according to her teacher is doing very well. I have adjusted as well but have been wondering where the free time I was hoping for has been hiding as I haven't seen it anywhere.
There have been many other things that have happened since my last post. We went apple picking with a group from church, our son turned two and Halloween are the ones that have the best stories and pictures but those will have to wait for another time. There is no school today due to teacher conferences and this monkey must dance but I promise not to stay away so long this time.
Monday, September 13, 2010
First Day of Kindergarten
Today our daughter took her first big steps into the grown up world. Sure, she as a long way to go but in my mind, today was that first step. It was the first day of kindergarten.
She went to preschool last year. It was a great experience for her. She had wonderful teachers who laid down such an incredible scholastic foundation that I imagine much of kindergarten will be nothing more than a reminder for our daughter of what she has already learned. That said, preschool seems to me like a rehearsal and kindergarten is opening night.
Today was the opening curtain on a play that should last for at least another thirteen years.
Caelyn has been looking forward to this day for a while. At first, we started to play it up to help with her sadness at the end of preschool. It gave her something look forward to when she got upset about her old teachers and friends.
Then one day while driving home, I pulled the van over in front of the empty school. I got her out and showed the school to her. I explained it was where she would be going to kindergarten. She stared at it wide eyed with a little disbelief. From then on, she was looking forward. Every time we drove past the school, she would get excited and yell, "My school. There's my school."
During the month of August, the school or it's PTA (I am not sure which) planned a couple of play dates for incoming kindergartners. We went to both and Caelyn made friends with future classmates. The week before the start of class, an ice cream social was held for the kindergartners where they met their teachers for the first time and got to see their classrooms. With each event, her excitement only grew.
Finally, today was the day. The day our daughter took those first steps into a bigger world.
I packed her lunch up into her princess lunch box. I then placed it into her Ramones book bag that she received courtesy of Aunt Melina. When it was time to get dressed, she put on the pretty new outfit her mother had bought for her the other day then on went the two old, dusty, beat up mismatched pink and purple Chucks. The princess lunch box in the Ramones bag and the pretty new clothes with the beat up Chucks, I can't think of a better way to describe our daughter.
We walked her to the classroom where she was quick to leave us behind.
She made herself at home and thanks to the above mentioned play dates, already had friends in the class.
Kerry and I stood around and watched a little bit. We spoke to other parents who were doing the same thing. Caleb decided it was to be his first day of school as well and proceeded to dig out his Cheerios cup and make himself at home with the toys and activities around the room.
Finally, it was time to go. We had to get Caelyn's attention to say goodbye and we left. It was an emotional moment for me. I can't quite put it into words but I imagine it wasn't that different from what every other parent was feeling. Pride, sadness and a little bit of fear probably.
When it was time to pick her up, we left extra early. I really wanted to know how her first day went but that is not why we left as early as we did. Caelyn school ends at 3:05. Her Tae Kwon Do class starts at 3:50 so we wanted to make sure we could park close to the school. We arrived about 25 minutes before dismissal and were far from the first parents there.
Caelyn came bounding out of the doors right on time. The excitement was all over her face as she ran to her mom so fast she couldn't really get a picture. Caelyn was excited and happy and ready to go back tomorrow.
She went to preschool last year. It was a great experience for her. She had wonderful teachers who laid down such an incredible scholastic foundation that I imagine much of kindergarten will be nothing more than a reminder for our daughter of what she has already learned. That said, preschool seems to me like a rehearsal and kindergarten is opening night.
Today was the opening curtain on a play that should last for at least another thirteen years.
Caelyn has been looking forward to this day for a while. At first, we started to play it up to help with her sadness at the end of preschool. It gave her something look forward to when she got upset about her old teachers and friends.
Then one day while driving home, I pulled the van over in front of the empty school. I got her out and showed the school to her. I explained it was where she would be going to kindergarten. She stared at it wide eyed with a little disbelief. From then on, she was looking forward. Every time we drove past the school, she would get excited and yell, "My school. There's my school."
During the month of August, the school or it's PTA (I am not sure which) planned a couple of play dates for incoming kindergartners. We went to both and Caelyn made friends with future classmates. The week before the start of class, an ice cream social was held for the kindergartners where they met their teachers for the first time and got to see their classrooms. With each event, her excitement only grew.
Finally, today was the day. The day our daughter took those first steps into a bigger world.
I packed her lunch up into her princess lunch box. I then placed it into her Ramones book bag that she received courtesy of Aunt Melina. When it was time to get dressed, she put on the pretty new outfit her mother had bought for her the other day then on went the two old, dusty, beat up mismatched pink and purple Chucks. The princess lunch box in the Ramones bag and the pretty new clothes with the beat up Chucks, I can't think of a better way to describe our daughter.
When it was time to go, Kerry and I loaded our son in the stroller and the whole family walked Caelyn to her first day of school.
(Walking her through the courtyard)
(This picture got to me when I saw it. She looks so little walking next to me in the school.)
(Hugging her new teacher)
(Presenting the student teacher with a picture she drew before school)
(Urg. Why did it have to be boys?)
(Making herself at home)
Finally, it was time to go. We had to get Caelyn's attention to say goodbye and we left. It was an emotional moment for me. I can't quite put it into words but I imagine it wasn't that different from what every other parent was feeling. Pride, sadness and a little bit of fear probably.
When it was time to pick her up, we left extra early. I really wanted to know how her first day went but that is not why we left as early as we did. Caelyn school ends at 3:05. Her Tae Kwon Do class starts at 3:50 so we wanted to make sure we could park close to the school. We arrived about 25 minutes before dismissal and were far from the first parents there.
Caelyn came bounding out of the doors right on time. The excitement was all over her face as she ran to her mom so fast she couldn't really get a picture. Caelyn was excited and happy and ready to go back tomorrow.
(Caelyn showing me her school work)
Saturday, September 11, 2010
September 11, 2001
Around here, September is one of the most beautiful months of the year. The hot days of August are gone and fall weather begins. For most of the month we don't need to use either a heater or an air conditioner and the sun shines abundantly. Such was the case on September 11, 2001.
Most of the time, that day and the changes it brought about are so ingrained into our daily lives that we don't think too much about it. Giant planters and blockades in front of buildings to prevent car bombs go relatively unnoticed. As do the heavily armed Hercules police unit swarms that take place around the city. Parts of downtown resemble a fortress and police carrying machine guns in certain areas is now normal. It is just the way it is and most people don't think to much about the reason for it.
However, this time of year brings it to the forefront. It's all over the news. Every two bit political pundit and politician exploit it for their own political gain. You can't turn on the TV without seeing some ignorant blowhard running off at the mouth. It's become so politicized in the media that the true stories of that day, the simple stories of people who lived through it, get lost in the rush by some moron trying to be outrageous in order to score political points and media coverage.
But I digress. This is an emotional time of year for me and this piece is not meant to be a political story. Everyone around here has their own story of the day the towers fell and this time of year, many begin to tell them. So, this is mine.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, my wife Kerry and I were living in the Carroll Gardens section of Brooklyn. We had been married for a little less than a year. The morning was picture perfect. It sounds like a cliche, but it is true. The sky was like a postcard and the weather was ideal. When you see the footage of that day, look away from the carnage, take a peek at the sky and you will see what I mean.
It was also an election day. The polling place by our Brooklyn apartment wasn't very far away and it was only a 1/2 a block from our subway stop. I left the apartment and walked over to vote before work. There was no line so I walked right in to the booth. As I was leaving the polling place, Kerry was walking in.
I hopped on the subway as usual and went to work. Because of the great weather, we had the office windows open. When the first plane hit, I heard the impact. Then I heard people screaming. The same thing happened with the second plane. Our office was about is about 1 1/2 miles from the World Trade Center so the impacts were loud.
However, the office is located in the village. It borders New York University and it was not uncommon to hear loud sounds and screaming. No one took any notice. It was not until one of our sales reps called a few minutes later to see how we were that we knew planes had hit the World Trade Center.
Back when the Empire State Building was new, a military plane flew into the side of the building by accident.and every so often a small plane will hit a building in Manhattan. It was with these images in our minds that we left the office and headed up the stairs to the roof of our building where there was an unobstructed view of the burning towers.
It only took one look to know, this was not a small plane. Eventually, as the day progressed we would learn more but for those first minutes on the roof, we couldn't imagine it was anything other than an accident. We stood on the roof watching, transfixed by the holes and the fires that were clearly visible.
Few people know how big the World Trade Center really was. They see the towers and think that is it. If you had never been down there, you would have no idea how far underground it went. There was an entire shopping mall under there, numerous subway stops and a PATH train station that connects NYC and Jersey.
Kerry worked in Jersey City at the time. Her commute from Brooklyn took her from the subway, through the underground World Trade Center complex to the PATH station where she would take a train to the Jersey side.
When you live somewhere long enough, you instinctively know how long it takes to get from place to place. Give someone the two locations and the time of day and they will know how long it will take to get there. If you asked me where Kerry was at any given time during her commute, I could tell you almost exactly. So it was that I knew immediately she was in the World Trade Center complex when the planes hit.
I stood there on the roof watching the towers burn and trying in vain to get in touch with my wife. Phones, land and cell, were spotty at best. Internet service was only working a little. For the next few hours, I went between the roof and the office. The only news feeds we could get was local radio and the BBC online.
When #2 World Trade Center, the first tower to go, fell I had not yet heard from Kerry. I was watching from the roof of our office building when it went. I can still hear the rumble, the gasps and screams of those around me. The shock I felt was staggering. No one had ever thought anything like that could happen.
One of the most vivid memories I have of that moment was when our office manager, who was standing a little to the right of me, put her hand on my back. She looked at me and said quietly and simply, "I am sure she wasn't there."
I don't know how much time passed but it seemed like an eternity. I tried over and over to reach my wife who I had no doubt was there during the attack. Later in the day, I received an e-mail from a coworker of Kerry's who had a pager. He wrote simply, "kerry's ok, will call later." That is the greatest e-mail I have ever received. The office broke out in applause when I told them the news. It was like something out of a movie. I said loudly, "She's ok" and the place erupted in cheers.
I later found that she made it out on the last PATH train to leave from the World Trade Center. She had seen smoke and running emergency crews but did not know what happened until she reached the Jersey side. I am forever grateful she didn't know sooner because as she has told me in the past, if she had known, she would have gone above ground instead of staying safely below.
I managed to get en e-mail to my cousin in Dallas and miraculously reach Kerry's brother in California by phone. They took care of the notifications of our families.
Finally, I decided to go home. No one was being allowed into Manhattan so Kerry was to stay in Jersey that night. I took the subway, a very quiet and shocked subway, home to Brooklyn.
When I got out of the Carroll Street station and back above ground, the neighborhood was covered with ash. I remember thinking I was walking through what not only was what was left of the Towers but of also what was left of bodies that had been incinerated.
And the smell, I can't even explain the smell. If you look at still pictures that show where the smoke was blowing, you will see it went straight into Brooklyn. Our neighborhood was less than 3 miles from the World Trade Center as the crow flies.
I walked over to a local hospital to give blood but they already had a line that went for blocks and no means to collect all the potential donations.
I went back to our apartment stopping to talk with neighbors along the way. Finally, I got home and other than taking a few phone calls that managed to make it through, I just sat in front of the computer playing video games to keep my mind off of what had happened. I had seen enough for one day and didn't go near the TV. Kerry got home mid afternoon the next day.
I mentioned the smell earlier. That smell was to be a part of our daily lives for many months to come. The fires at the World Trade Center burned for months and we could never leave our apartment without smelling them.
Each day we would walk past the pictures of the dead. Fliers that desperate people put up with a picture of their loved one and a number to call if they had been seen anywhere.
People would suddenly stop and start weeping on sidewalks and subway platforms. My office was in the first frozen zone so there were police and National Guard everywhere.
Every day there were subway delays due to bomb squad investigations. Buildings were routinely being evacuated. The entire city was on edge and the smallest thing (powder from a donut on a subway pllatform, a forgotten backpack) would bring a huge police response.
The news kept count of the dead and missing. Emergency crews pretended to be in the rubble so the rescue dogs would stop getting depressed for they found no one. Lines went for blocks with people trying to donate blood only to be turned away for the hospitals had all they could stock. Everyone felt the need to do something but no one really could.
All in all, we were lucky. Everyone knew someone who lost someone but no one we knew was killed that day though many had close calls including some in the Towers.
Kerry had originally been scheduled to attend a meeting that day in Tower #1. She cancelled the meeting because a friend of mine, who was supposed to go to the Yankees game with me that night had to cancel and she decided to go to the game instead. Since she was attending the game, she decided to vote before work and cancelled her 9 am meeting. Otherwise, she would have been in Tower #1 when the planes hit. All but one of her company's people in those office's made it out.
So here it is 9 years later and a lot of things have changed but the scars still remain. I still get nervous at the sight and sound of low flying planes. The pictures of the dead are long gone but I can still see them clearly in my mind when I walk past where they were posted The smell, the smell is gone but I don't think there is anything that will ever cause me to forget it. My life changed that day in ways that on some level I still don't understand. But we are still here. New York is still here and it's not going anywhere.
I tried to think of some way to tie the jumbled thoughts, emotions and memories I have of that day and it's aftermath together for a conclusion to this post. I have come to the conclusion that I can't and I shouldn't. The writing jumps because so much comes rushing back that it is like overload and I simply don't have the talent to do it justice.
So I will leave you with an e-mail I wrote on September 25, 2001 and sent out to friends and family. It is copied below in it's entirety and I have not changed a word. Perhaps it can give you a better idea of the thoughts and feelings that still affect me to this day.
9-25-01
Ramblings from the city that can no longer sleep.
This morning has been a rather eerie one for me. I find myself doing the same things I did on September 11. I went to vote and have plans to go to a Yankees game tonight. Those are the same two things that were planned on the day of the attack. Fortunately, I think this day will turn out better.
The world I awoke to that morning, the world which existed at 8:30 when I got to work, is substantially different from the one that existed less than 20 minutes later. Things have been changed. Politicians and the media talk of a return to normalcy and that may be possible elsewhere but here normal has been redefined and we find ourselves having to adjust to it.
For those of you outside of New York, which I believe is many on this list, we do hear about what is going on West of the Hudson although probably not much of it. While I can only absolutely speak for myself, I think I can say that we appreciate the support the rest of the nation has given our city and we find it amusing how suddenly, people love us. Even in Boston.
Have no fear, New York will be rebuilt and rise again to be "hated" by the rest of the country but I believe that no one will ever again look on the sight of our beloved Towers. It is just not practical to ask someone to work on the 110th floor.
I am one of the lucky ones. My wife is safe. She was able to make it out before anyone had an idea of all that was involved. There are so many that are not that fortunate. I see their faces everyday on the train. I see their pictures on every block. I hear their stories as I walk down the street, turn on the TV or pick up a paper. There is no one here who has come out of this without a scar; some are just larger than others.
Do not forget what is important in your life. While we all say that those we care about are the most important, our actions tend to show otherwise much of the time. The other day, they reached the area where my wife was that day and found no survivors. I think of how close I came to being one of those people who was walking from hospital to hospital clutching pictures of their loved ones and it makes me shiver. Make sure you let those in your life know you care because you never know when it may be your last opportunity.
Make no mistake, we are now a country at war. For those who doubt that, I ask them to pay me a visit sometime. I ask them to speak to those whose have walked the streets strewn with body parts as some friends of mine have.
I ask them to listen to my wife speak of the police she saw running toward the smoke who may or may not be alive today. They can speak to the many of us who watched in horror as the Towers collapsed before our eyes, who saw the thousands heading up Broadway covered in debris, who breathed in the smoke, and ash and yes, burnt flesh. They can talk to my neighbors who had to wash this stuff off their homes or watched as pieces of clothing fell from the sky. An unknown rescue worker wrote in lower Manhattan, "I have seen war today" and that is true for many in this city in some form or another.
If Pearl Harbor was an act of war then this must surely be. We lost far more in the World Trade Center than was ever conceived of being lost from that attack. In fact, our country lost more people in the World Trade Center than we lost in Pearl Harbor and D-Day combined. But while we are at war, we must remember that we are a nation of laws and we must protect the innocent. There must be no rush to judgment. We must do everything possible to protect the innocent and we must also do everything possible to eliminate every organization and government who would support or conduct these types of acts.
I have seen people of all backgrounds and faiths working to rebuild this city. I have seen Muslims crying next to Christians next to Jews all holding the United States flag. Islam is not our enemy. Terror is our enemy and to strike back in a blind rage would accomplish nothing.
There will be a war in Afghanistan, but the Afghani people are not our enemy, their government and its guests are. No Muslim should be targeted abroad or here simply because they are Muslim. After all those who did this defame Islam and are no believers in God at all.
We must prepare ourselves for what is to come. We must be strong in the face of the losses we are sure to experience in the future and we must be vocal in holding our government accountable for how it conducts its business. We must make sure we get the right people and leave the innocent alone for they are no more guilty than the 6500 or so buried in lower Manhattan.
I am convinced that there is no peaceful solution to this. The people, organizations and governments that would do this will not stop. If they are left alone, we will be forced to deal with biological, chemical and/or nuclear devices being used in our cities. My wife and I fully expect that there will be another attempt on our home, New York City.
There will be a war but it should be conducted with regret and not glee. I can assure you that what I have seen and felt these past two weeks is not something so sit in front your TV and cheer the way people did during the gulf war. Whether it is here or abroad it is nothing to be happy about. While it must be done to protect ourselves, take no joy in it.
I ask that all pray for those who will be fighting and dying for us in the years to come. I ask that you remember those that are gone and that you pray for those left behind. I ask that you remember that Muslims are not our enemy. And believe it or not, I ask that you pray for those who would do this. Those that believe in the Bible know it commands nothing less to pray for those that hurt you. Our capacity to love is what makes us different from the terrorists. Do not let hate dictate your actions. Let us make sure our cause stays just.
Anyway, for what its worth, its one persons opinion.
-tim
Most of the time, that day and the changes it brought about are so ingrained into our daily lives that we don't think too much about it. Giant planters and blockades in front of buildings to prevent car bombs go relatively unnoticed. As do the heavily armed Hercules police unit swarms that take place around the city. Parts of downtown resemble a fortress and police carrying machine guns in certain areas is now normal. It is just the way it is and most people don't think to much about the reason for it.
However, this time of year brings it to the forefront. It's all over the news. Every two bit political pundit and politician exploit it for their own political gain. You can't turn on the TV without seeing some ignorant blowhard running off at the mouth. It's become so politicized in the media that the true stories of that day, the simple stories of people who lived through it, get lost in the rush by some moron trying to be outrageous in order to score political points and media coverage.
But I digress. This is an emotional time of year for me and this piece is not meant to be a political story. Everyone around here has their own story of the day the towers fell and this time of year, many begin to tell them. So, this is mine.
On the morning of September 11, 2001, my wife Kerry and I were living in the Carroll Gardens section of Brooklyn. We had been married for a little less than a year. The morning was picture perfect. It sounds like a cliche, but it is true. The sky was like a postcard and the weather was ideal. When you see the footage of that day, look away from the carnage, take a peek at the sky and you will see what I mean.
It was also an election day. The polling place by our Brooklyn apartment wasn't very far away and it was only a 1/2 a block from our subway stop. I left the apartment and walked over to vote before work. There was no line so I walked right in to the booth. As I was leaving the polling place, Kerry was walking in.
I hopped on the subway as usual and went to work. Because of the great weather, we had the office windows open. When the first plane hit, I heard the impact. Then I heard people screaming. The same thing happened with the second plane. Our office was about is about 1 1/2 miles from the World Trade Center so the impacts were loud.
However, the office is located in the village. It borders New York University and it was not uncommon to hear loud sounds and screaming. No one took any notice. It was not until one of our sales reps called a few minutes later to see how we were that we knew planes had hit the World Trade Center.
Back when the Empire State Building was new, a military plane flew into the side of the building by accident.and every so often a small plane will hit a building in Manhattan. It was with these images in our minds that we left the office and headed up the stairs to the roof of our building where there was an unobstructed view of the burning towers.
It only took one look to know, this was not a small plane. Eventually, as the day progressed we would learn more but for those first minutes on the roof, we couldn't imagine it was anything other than an accident. We stood on the roof watching, transfixed by the holes and the fires that were clearly visible.
Few people know how big the World Trade Center really was. They see the towers and think that is it. If you had never been down there, you would have no idea how far underground it went. There was an entire shopping mall under there, numerous subway stops and a PATH train station that connects NYC and Jersey.
Kerry worked in Jersey City at the time. Her commute from Brooklyn took her from the subway, through the underground World Trade Center complex to the PATH station where she would take a train to the Jersey side.
When you live somewhere long enough, you instinctively know how long it takes to get from place to place. Give someone the two locations and the time of day and they will know how long it will take to get there. If you asked me where Kerry was at any given time during her commute, I could tell you almost exactly. So it was that I knew immediately she was in the World Trade Center complex when the planes hit.
I stood there on the roof watching the towers burn and trying in vain to get in touch with my wife. Phones, land and cell, were spotty at best. Internet service was only working a little. For the next few hours, I went between the roof and the office. The only news feeds we could get was local radio and the BBC online.
When #2 World Trade Center, the first tower to go, fell I had not yet heard from Kerry. I was watching from the roof of our office building when it went. I can still hear the rumble, the gasps and screams of those around me. The shock I felt was staggering. No one had ever thought anything like that could happen.
One of the most vivid memories I have of that moment was when our office manager, who was standing a little to the right of me, put her hand on my back. She looked at me and said quietly and simply, "I am sure she wasn't there."
I don't know how much time passed but it seemed like an eternity. I tried over and over to reach my wife who I had no doubt was there during the attack. Later in the day, I received an e-mail from a coworker of Kerry's who had a pager. He wrote simply, "kerry's ok, will call later." That is the greatest e-mail I have ever received. The office broke out in applause when I told them the news. It was like something out of a movie. I said loudly, "She's ok" and the place erupted in cheers.
I later found that she made it out on the last PATH train to leave from the World Trade Center. She had seen smoke and running emergency crews but did not know what happened until she reached the Jersey side. I am forever grateful she didn't know sooner because as she has told me in the past, if she had known, she would have gone above ground instead of staying safely below.
I managed to get en e-mail to my cousin in Dallas and miraculously reach Kerry's brother in California by phone. They took care of the notifications of our families.
Finally, I decided to go home. No one was being allowed into Manhattan so Kerry was to stay in Jersey that night. I took the subway, a very quiet and shocked subway, home to Brooklyn.
When I got out of the Carroll Street station and back above ground, the neighborhood was covered with ash. I remember thinking I was walking through what not only was what was left of the Towers but of also what was left of bodies that had been incinerated.
And the smell, I can't even explain the smell. If you look at still pictures that show where the smoke was blowing, you will see it went straight into Brooklyn. Our neighborhood was less than 3 miles from the World Trade Center as the crow flies.
I walked over to a local hospital to give blood but they already had a line that went for blocks and no means to collect all the potential donations.
I went back to our apartment stopping to talk with neighbors along the way. Finally, I got home and other than taking a few phone calls that managed to make it through, I just sat in front of the computer playing video games to keep my mind off of what had happened. I had seen enough for one day and didn't go near the TV. Kerry got home mid afternoon the next day.
I mentioned the smell earlier. That smell was to be a part of our daily lives for many months to come. The fires at the World Trade Center burned for months and we could never leave our apartment without smelling them.
Each day we would walk past the pictures of the dead. Fliers that desperate people put up with a picture of their loved one and a number to call if they had been seen anywhere.
People would suddenly stop and start weeping on sidewalks and subway platforms. My office was in the first frozen zone so there were police and National Guard everywhere.
Every day there were subway delays due to bomb squad investigations. Buildings were routinely being evacuated. The entire city was on edge and the smallest thing (powder from a donut on a subway pllatform, a forgotten backpack) would bring a huge police response.
The news kept count of the dead and missing. Emergency crews pretended to be in the rubble so the rescue dogs would stop getting depressed for they found no one. Lines went for blocks with people trying to donate blood only to be turned away for the hospitals had all they could stock. Everyone felt the need to do something but no one really could.
All in all, we were lucky. Everyone knew someone who lost someone but no one we knew was killed that day though many had close calls including some in the Towers.
Kerry had originally been scheduled to attend a meeting that day in Tower #1. She cancelled the meeting because a friend of mine, who was supposed to go to the Yankees game with me that night had to cancel and she decided to go to the game instead. Since she was attending the game, she decided to vote before work and cancelled her 9 am meeting. Otherwise, she would have been in Tower #1 when the planes hit. All but one of her company's people in those office's made it out.
So here it is 9 years later and a lot of things have changed but the scars still remain. I still get nervous at the sight and sound of low flying planes. The pictures of the dead are long gone but I can still see them clearly in my mind when I walk past where they were posted The smell, the smell is gone but I don't think there is anything that will ever cause me to forget it. My life changed that day in ways that on some level I still don't understand. But we are still here. New York is still here and it's not going anywhere.
I tried to think of some way to tie the jumbled thoughts, emotions and memories I have of that day and it's aftermath together for a conclusion to this post. I have come to the conclusion that I can't and I shouldn't. The writing jumps because so much comes rushing back that it is like overload and I simply don't have the talent to do it justice.
So I will leave you with an e-mail I wrote on September 25, 2001 and sent out to friends and family. It is copied below in it's entirety and I have not changed a word. Perhaps it can give you a better idea of the thoughts and feelings that still affect me to this day.
9-25-01
Ramblings from the city that can no longer sleep.
This morning has been a rather eerie one for me. I find myself doing the same things I did on September 11. I went to vote and have plans to go to a Yankees game tonight. Those are the same two things that were planned on the day of the attack. Fortunately, I think this day will turn out better.
The world I awoke to that morning, the world which existed at 8:30 when I got to work, is substantially different from the one that existed less than 20 minutes later. Things have been changed. Politicians and the media talk of a return to normalcy and that may be possible elsewhere but here normal has been redefined and we find ourselves having to adjust to it.
For those of you outside of New York, which I believe is many on this list, we do hear about what is going on West of the Hudson although probably not much of it. While I can only absolutely speak for myself, I think I can say that we appreciate the support the rest of the nation has given our city and we find it amusing how suddenly, people love us. Even in Boston.
Have no fear, New York will be rebuilt and rise again to be "hated" by the rest of the country but I believe that no one will ever again look on the sight of our beloved Towers. It is just not practical to ask someone to work on the 110th floor.
I am one of the lucky ones. My wife is safe. She was able to make it out before anyone had an idea of all that was involved. There are so many that are not that fortunate. I see their faces everyday on the train. I see their pictures on every block. I hear their stories as I walk down the street, turn on the TV or pick up a paper. There is no one here who has come out of this without a scar; some are just larger than others.
Do not forget what is important in your life. While we all say that those we care about are the most important, our actions tend to show otherwise much of the time. The other day, they reached the area where my wife was that day and found no survivors. I think of how close I came to being one of those people who was walking from hospital to hospital clutching pictures of their loved ones and it makes me shiver. Make sure you let those in your life know you care because you never know when it may be your last opportunity.
Make no mistake, we are now a country at war. For those who doubt that, I ask them to pay me a visit sometime. I ask them to speak to those whose have walked the streets strewn with body parts as some friends of mine have.
I ask them to listen to my wife speak of the police she saw running toward the smoke who may or may not be alive today. They can speak to the many of us who watched in horror as the Towers collapsed before our eyes, who saw the thousands heading up Broadway covered in debris, who breathed in the smoke, and ash and yes, burnt flesh. They can talk to my neighbors who had to wash this stuff off their homes or watched as pieces of clothing fell from the sky. An unknown rescue worker wrote in lower Manhattan, "I have seen war today" and that is true for many in this city in some form or another.
If Pearl Harbor was an act of war then this must surely be. We lost far more in the World Trade Center than was ever conceived of being lost from that attack. In fact, our country lost more people in the World Trade Center than we lost in Pearl Harbor and D-Day combined. But while we are at war, we must remember that we are a nation of laws and we must protect the innocent. There must be no rush to judgment. We must do everything possible to protect the innocent and we must also do everything possible to eliminate every organization and government who would support or conduct these types of acts.
I have seen people of all backgrounds and faiths working to rebuild this city. I have seen Muslims crying next to Christians next to Jews all holding the United States flag. Islam is not our enemy. Terror is our enemy and to strike back in a blind rage would accomplish nothing.
There will be a war in Afghanistan, but the Afghani people are not our enemy, their government and its guests are. No Muslim should be targeted abroad or here simply because they are Muslim. After all those who did this defame Islam and are no believers in God at all.
We must prepare ourselves for what is to come. We must be strong in the face of the losses we are sure to experience in the future and we must be vocal in holding our government accountable for how it conducts its business. We must make sure we get the right people and leave the innocent alone for they are no more guilty than the 6500 or so buried in lower Manhattan.
I am convinced that there is no peaceful solution to this. The people, organizations and governments that would do this will not stop. If they are left alone, we will be forced to deal with biological, chemical and/or nuclear devices being used in our cities. My wife and I fully expect that there will be another attempt on our home, New York City.
There will be a war but it should be conducted with regret and not glee. I can assure you that what I have seen and felt these past two weeks is not something so sit in front your TV and cheer the way people did during the gulf war. Whether it is here or abroad it is nothing to be happy about. While it must be done to protect ourselves, take no joy in it.
I ask that all pray for those who will be fighting and dying for us in the years to come. I ask that you remember those that are gone and that you pray for those left behind. I ask that you remember that Muslims are not our enemy. And believe it or not, I ask that you pray for those who would do this. Those that believe in the Bible know it commands nothing less to pray for those that hurt you. Our capacity to love is what makes us different from the terrorists. Do not let hate dictate your actions. Let us make sure our cause stays just.
Anyway, for what its worth, its one persons opinion.
-tim
Saturday, August 21, 2010
A Day of Chaos Part Two
Here are some pics from the celebration of Caelyn's 5th birthday.
Caelyn and Caleb Greet the First Guest
The Swing Set Was in Constant Use
The Kiddie Pools Were Popular
The Playroom Was Dismantled
Two of Many Different Little Drummers
Caelyn and a Friend
Dude! Your Girlfriend Keeps Checking Me Out
The Birthday Girl
Reindeer Princess
Twin Trouble
The Birthday Girl Had to Sit with the Boys
Pizza is Good
I Could Feed Myself but Why Should I?
Singing Happy Birthday
Giant Cupcakes for All
In Search of More Food
Pinata! Yes, That is Darth Vader
He Has a Way with the Ladies
Once More, the Birthday Girl
A Day of Chaos Part One
While our daughter turned five on August 5th, her party was not until last Saturday. This is because August is a very tough month for planning a party. So many people travel during August around here you would think we are in Europe.
Caelyn's party was held on the 14th as that was the day most people were available. Her previous birthday parties were substantially smaller affairs. Each year I would round up as many of Caelyn's friends that were available as I could find. This was usually around five children. Each year I was worried she would be disappointed that more of her friends were not available. Each year, my worries were unfounded as Caelyn had a great time with the friends that were able to come.
This year was a bit different. Caelyn started talking about her birthday party during the winter months. I have no idea why, or what started her on it, but she was fixated on her birthday party. She wanted all her friends to come. I had to explain her birthday was a long way off and I kept thinking August is tough month to plan a party. Once again, I started to worry she would be disappointed by a small turnout and I even prayed for a large party.
When preschool and her dance class started winding down for the summer, I made sure I collected as many names and numbers as I could. I wanted not only to have them for the party but I planned to book as many play dates as I could to keep our daughter busy over the summer. There was only so much dancing this monkey could do.
When it came close to invitation time, I polled people on who would be available on a couple of different weekends. After I got the number and the date was decided, out went the invitations. Then came the acceptances. Much to my pleasure and dismay, the large birthday was to become a reality. This year we had seventeen children and if not for a few unforeseen complications, there would have been twenty two.
Now we had a new problem. We had all these children coming so what were we going to do with them?
My wife and I are not planners. At least not very good ones. We opted for the simple. Kiddie pools and a swing set along with various smaller outdoor activities. We went for as little structure as possible. Essentially, it was to be a massive play date. The only structured items were pizza, cake and a pinata.
The weather was now the only question mark left. If it rained, we were in trouble. We really had no idea what to with all those children if they needed to be kept indoors the whole time. Fortunately, we didn't have to find out. The weather was in the low 80s with sunshine. The children, all thrown together in a mass of friends from different walks of Caelyn's life, found their own interests and away they went.
Some hit the kiddie pool. Some the swing set. Others found the Barbie's and others the drum set. It turned out just as we had hoped. A group of children running around just being children. Chaos with our daughter right in the middle, enjoying it all the while.
Fortunately, there were no injuries or fights. Everyone got hopped up on pizza, juice boxes and jumbo cupcakes and had a great time. They only complaints came from children being told it was time to leave.
(Pics from this day of chaos will be posted in Part 2.)
Caelyn's party was held on the 14th as that was the day most people were available. Her previous birthday parties were substantially smaller affairs. Each year I would round up as many of Caelyn's friends that were available as I could find. This was usually around five children. Each year I was worried she would be disappointed that more of her friends were not available. Each year, my worries were unfounded as Caelyn had a great time with the friends that were able to come.
This year was a bit different. Caelyn started talking about her birthday party during the winter months. I have no idea why, or what started her on it, but she was fixated on her birthday party. She wanted all her friends to come. I had to explain her birthday was a long way off and I kept thinking August is tough month to plan a party. Once again, I started to worry she would be disappointed by a small turnout and I even prayed for a large party.
When preschool and her dance class started winding down for the summer, I made sure I collected as many names and numbers as I could. I wanted not only to have them for the party but I planned to book as many play dates as I could to keep our daughter busy over the summer. There was only so much dancing this monkey could do.
When it came close to invitation time, I polled people on who would be available on a couple of different weekends. After I got the number and the date was decided, out went the invitations. Then came the acceptances. Much to my pleasure and dismay, the large birthday was to become a reality. This year we had seventeen children and if not for a few unforeseen complications, there would have been twenty two.
Now we had a new problem. We had all these children coming so what were we going to do with them?
My wife and I are not planners. At least not very good ones. We opted for the simple. Kiddie pools and a swing set along with various smaller outdoor activities. We went for as little structure as possible. Essentially, it was to be a massive play date. The only structured items were pizza, cake and a pinata.
The weather was now the only question mark left. If it rained, we were in trouble. We really had no idea what to with all those children if they needed to be kept indoors the whole time. Fortunately, we didn't have to find out. The weather was in the low 80s with sunshine. The children, all thrown together in a mass of friends from different walks of Caelyn's life, found their own interests and away they went.
Some hit the kiddie pool. Some the swing set. Others found the Barbie's and others the drum set. It turned out just as we had hoped. A group of children running around just being children. Chaos with our daughter right in the middle, enjoying it all the while.
Fortunately, there were no injuries or fights. Everyone got hopped up on pizza, juice boxes and jumbo cupcakes and had a great time. They only complaints came from children being told it was time to leave.
(Pics from this day of chaos will be posted in Part 2.)
Saturday, August 7, 2010
The Week in Review
I just looked up and realized over a week has past since I posted anything here. It has been one of those weeks. While I will write in more detail on the past week later, here is the week in review.
Last Saturday Caelyn's new school had a play date for incoming kindergartners. The whole family attended and Caelyn made some new friends. We don't know whose class she will be in yet. We are hoping she will be placed with some of the kids she was running around with on the playground as they were fast friends.
Sunday was church and house cleaning in preparation of our having a third child for the day on Monday.
Monday Caelyn's pre-school friend Kate spent the day with us. Kate and her family moved to Maryland on Wednesday so it was their last hurrah for a while, maybe ever. They girls played hard and there were tears when it was over.
Tuesday we went into the city to see The Dirty Sock Funtime Band. Caelyn, of course, spent her time up front and met the band.
We couldn't spend the day in the city as the ongoing saga of our washing machine continued (its been broken for a couple of months now) and yet another repairman was due that afternoon.
Wednesday was errands day as we had nothing planned. It's amazing how much time simple errands can take with two kids in tow.
Thursday was Caelyn's 5th birthday. Her party is not until the 14th but we celebrated as a family on Coney Island. We took her to Ringling Bros. Illucination under the big top on the boardwalk.
Friday held a visit for me to the ENT (everything is fine) and then off to get a new freezer as our fridge seems to be dying. It appears all our appliances are in revolt.
Then there is today. Caelyn's friend Jesse is here for most of the day. As I write this I can hear them playing in the living room.
So that has been our week. There are some pretty fun stories and pictures to share but that will have to wait for another post. One which hopefully will be written soon.
Last Saturday Caelyn's new school had a play date for incoming kindergartners. The whole family attended and Caelyn made some new friends. We don't know whose class she will be in yet. We are hoping she will be placed with some of the kids she was running around with on the playground as they were fast friends.
(There could be trouble if these four are in the same class)
Monday Caelyn's pre-school friend Kate spent the day with us. Kate and her family moved to Maryland on Wednesday so it was their last hurrah for a while, maybe ever. They girls played hard and there were tears when it was over.
Tuesday we went into the city to see The Dirty Sock Funtime Band. Caelyn, of course, spent her time up front and met the band.
(Caelyn receiving a high five from the singer at the end of Baby Spies.)
(Hangin with Mr. Clown)
We couldn't spend the day in the city as the ongoing saga of our washing machine continued (its been broken for a couple of months now) and yet another repairman was due that afternoon.
Wednesday was errands day as we had nothing planned. It's amazing how much time simple errands can take with two kids in tow.
Thursday was Caelyn's 5th birthday. Her party is not until the 14th but we celebrated as a family on Coney Island. We took her to Ringling Bros. Illucination under the big top on the boardwalk.
Friday held a visit for me to the ENT (everything is fine) and then off to get a new freezer as our fridge seems to be dying. It appears all our appliances are in revolt.
Then there is today. Caelyn's friend Jesse is here for most of the day. As I write this I can hear them playing in the living room.
So that has been our week. There are some pretty fun stories and pictures to share but that will have to wait for another post. One which hopefully will be written soon.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Selective Germaphobia
Earlier this summer, I wrote about our daughter's dance with daytime urination syndrome. This was not a fun time in our household and it made going places almost impossible. Fortunately, it passed fairly quickly and we have no problem with it anymore.
Unfortunately, Caelyn has decided to take a whole different route to crazy town. She has what I like to call selective germaphobia. Essentially, when at home and not kept sufficiently busy, she starts worrying about germs on her hands.
She will ask if she touches this or that part of her leg, does she need to wash her hands. After she goes to the bathroom and she touches the door before washing her hands, then touches it again after washing them she will ask if she needs to wash them once more as the germs may have moved from her dirty hands to the door and then back to her clean hands.
She has come up with detailed scenarios in which germs have moved from 4 or 5 locations in order to make it back to her body somewhere. Then her hands will come in contact with that part of her body and she worries that she has to wash them.
We have tried to reassure her that germs don't work that way but she won't listen. Sometimes this ends up with a crying child, a frustrated parent and a trip to timeout. It has gotten really old, really fast.
The funny thing about this is it started suddenly and it almost never happens when she is busy. She can be out playing and never mention it. Yesterday, she spent three hours at a friends and never once asked about washing her hands. Today, we spent almost as long at the pool and again, no worries about germs. But on both occasions, she starts asking about germs as soon as we get home.
Wait a minute, maybe that's the key. Maybe it's not that she thinks about it when she is isn't busy. Maybe, it's just that we should really clean this house. =-)
Unfortunately, Caelyn has decided to take a whole different route to crazy town. She has what I like to call selective germaphobia. Essentially, when at home and not kept sufficiently busy, she starts worrying about germs on her hands.
She will ask if she touches this or that part of her leg, does she need to wash her hands. After she goes to the bathroom and she touches the door before washing her hands, then touches it again after washing them she will ask if she needs to wash them once more as the germs may have moved from her dirty hands to the door and then back to her clean hands.
She has come up with detailed scenarios in which germs have moved from 4 or 5 locations in order to make it back to her body somewhere. Then her hands will come in contact with that part of her body and she worries that she has to wash them.
We have tried to reassure her that germs don't work that way but she won't listen. Sometimes this ends up with a crying child, a frustrated parent and a trip to timeout. It has gotten really old, really fast.
The funny thing about this is it started suddenly and it almost never happens when she is busy. She can be out playing and never mention it. Yesterday, she spent three hours at a friends and never once asked about washing her hands. Today, we spent almost as long at the pool and again, no worries about germs. But on both occasions, she starts asking about germs as soon as we get home.
Wait a minute, maybe that's the key. Maybe it's not that she thinks about it when she is isn't busy. Maybe, it's just that we should really clean this house. =-)
Monday, July 26, 2010
A Milestone for Our Son
This weekend, I witnesed a milestone in our young sons life. At only 21 months, there have already been quite a few. First solid food, first step, first word, first ER trip. Yes. there have been numerous milestones so far, but this was a big one for a boy.
My mom would say the milestone this weekend was Caleb telling her he loved her on the phone. Mom was telling him she loved him over the speaker phone when Caleb, sounding very much like Scooby Doo said, "Love you." Mom howled with delight and I placated her by saying, "If she wanted to believe Caleb had said love you, she could believe what she wanted." It was only after he had done it multiple times, and only in response to someone telling him they loved him, that I realized my mom was right. I hate it when that happens. =-)
While the first time a guy uses the words I love you is a momentous occasion, the milestone I am referring too is larger still. The milestone our son reached this weekend was peeing while standing up for the first time. At least without a diaper.
Our son hates taking a bath. He likes to play in the water with the bath toys, but he hates taking a bath. Truth be told, he is not really a fan of the water either. He refuses to sit in the tub. He will stand. He will stomp. He will play with the toys. He will fight you every step of the way during bathing and he will not sit down. Every bath is done with him standiing so I guess it was inevitable his first pee standing up would take place in the tub.
When he started, his whole body jerked in surprise and he scared himself. He scared himself so bad, he let out a little cry of surprise and stopped mid-stream. He then looked a little confused. It soon started up again. This time he cackled with delight as the pee hit the water making a splash. When it was over, he howled in indigation. He would now simply have to play with the regular bath toys.
My mom would say the milestone this weekend was Caleb telling her he loved her on the phone. Mom was telling him she loved him over the speaker phone when Caleb, sounding very much like Scooby Doo said, "Love you." Mom howled with delight and I placated her by saying, "If she wanted to believe Caleb had said love you, she could believe what she wanted." It was only after he had done it multiple times, and only in response to someone telling him they loved him, that I realized my mom was right. I hate it when that happens. =-)
While the first time a guy uses the words I love you is a momentous occasion, the milestone I am referring too is larger still. The milestone our son reached this weekend was peeing while standing up for the first time. At least without a diaper.
Our son hates taking a bath. He likes to play in the water with the bath toys, but he hates taking a bath. Truth be told, he is not really a fan of the water either. He refuses to sit in the tub. He will stand. He will stomp. He will play with the toys. He will fight you every step of the way during bathing and he will not sit down. Every bath is done with him standiing so I guess it was inevitable his first pee standing up would take place in the tub.
When he started, his whole body jerked in surprise and he scared himself. He scared himself so bad, he let out a little cry of surprise and stopped mid-stream. He then looked a little confused. It soon started up again. This time he cackled with delight as the pee hit the water making a splash. When it was over, he howled in indigation. He would now simply have to play with the regular bath toys.
Saturday, July 24, 2010
A Birthday
Thursday was my wife's birthday. She turned (redacted) years old and our daughter was determined that there would be a party of some kind or another. She likes parties.
Thursday, of course, is a work day and my wife went into the office like normal. This confused our daughter greatly. Caelyn did not understand why mommy had to work on her birthday. She was certain the people at the office had no idea it was Kerry's birthday. Caelyn tried convincing me I should call and let them know. That way, they would send Kerry home. She was completely lost when I explained to her it didn't work that way.
She eventually settled for going to a local party store to pick out some supplies for the "party." We walked in and she proceeded to want everything in the store for her mommy's party. Banner, ok. Balloons, ok. Dora writing pen with fuzzy end. Yep, got that too. And then there were the little yellow alien looking smiley face people. Yes, they are exactly like they sound.
I asked Caelyn if she was picking out things for mommy or herself. She assured me they were for mommy but that mommy would need to share with her. And so it went at the party store. We did not leave with a lot of stuff though not for a lack of trying on our daughter's part.
Later in the day, the weather was nice. We decided to walk to the train station to meet Kerry. We never made it. Our neighbors across the street were out front. That was as far as we got. Caelyn started to play with the little girl across the street. A few minutes later, another little girl from a couple of houses down joined in.
Before any of the adults made any decisions, our neighbors across the street had a backyard full of 6 kids. Three girls (including Caelyn) of the same age and their younger siblings. I texted Kerry where we were.
Kerry arrived a little later and we all hung out as the kids played. About the time we would normally be starting the bedtime routine, we got home. Kerry still had to eat and of course, there was the matter of the birthday party. It may have been late, but there would have to be a party.
Caelyn had hidden Kerry's presents somewhere in the house. I still don't know where. After Kerry finished dinner, Caelyn retrieved the presents one by one for Kerry to open. Once the presents were opened, it was time for cake. The candles consisted of one large silver dinner candle chosen by Caelyn and the numbers (redacted) and (redacted) to make Kerry's age.
The party lasted well into the night. Well, maybe just well past bedtime. The best part was trying to get two children, hopped up on cake, to calm down for bed.
Thursday, of course, is a work day and my wife went into the office like normal. This confused our daughter greatly. Caelyn did not understand why mommy had to work on her birthday. She was certain the people at the office had no idea it was Kerry's birthday. Caelyn tried convincing me I should call and let them know. That way, they would send Kerry home. She was completely lost when I explained to her it didn't work that way.
She eventually settled for going to a local party store to pick out some supplies for the "party." We walked in and she proceeded to want everything in the store for her mommy's party. Banner, ok. Balloons, ok. Dora writing pen with fuzzy end. Yep, got that too. And then there were the little yellow alien looking smiley face people. Yes, they are exactly like they sound.
I asked Caelyn if she was picking out things for mommy or herself. She assured me they were for mommy but that mommy would need to share with her. And so it went at the party store. We did not leave with a lot of stuff though not for a lack of trying on our daughter's part.
Later in the day, the weather was nice. We decided to walk to the train station to meet Kerry. We never made it. Our neighbors across the street were out front. That was as far as we got. Caelyn started to play with the little girl across the street. A few minutes later, another little girl from a couple of houses down joined in.
Before any of the adults made any decisions, our neighbors across the street had a backyard full of 6 kids. Three girls (including Caelyn) of the same age and their younger siblings. I texted Kerry where we were.
Kerry arrived a little later and we all hung out as the kids played. About the time we would normally be starting the bedtime routine, we got home. Kerry still had to eat and of course, there was the matter of the birthday party. It may have been late, but there would have to be a party.
Caelyn had hidden Kerry's presents somewhere in the house. I still don't know where. After Kerry finished dinner, Caelyn retrieved the presents one by one for Kerry to open. Once the presents were opened, it was time for cake. The candles consisted of one large silver dinner candle chosen by Caelyn and the numbers (redacted) and (redacted) to make Kerry's age.
The party lasted well into the night. Well, maybe just well past bedtime. The best part was trying to get two children, hopped up on cake, to calm down for bed.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Once More Into the City
This morning at Madison Square Park, Caelyn's favorite children's band, Audrarox. was playing a show. I decided to surprise her with a trip into the city to see them. All I told her was that we would be spending the day in the city. She didn't know what we were going to do. Despite being bugged mercilessly, I wouldn't tell her. I was determined it would be a surprise.
As we walked into Madison Square Park, Caelyn asked if we were going to the playground. She loves the playground there. She seemed a bit disappointed but took it well when I told her no and we walked past it. It was then she saw the stage.
After dropping off the stroller, we found a place close to the front. Caelyn looked up at the stage and stopped short. "It's Audrarox", she yelled at me as she saw who was behind the stage. She got excited when I told her that is who we were there to see.
I had picked an open spot near the stage as I knew Caelyn would be heading to the very front as soon as possible. I wanted to be able to keep an eye on her. She kept telling me she wasn't close enough and I assured her she could go as soon as the show started. Finally, I just let her go as she was getting anxious.
When she got near the stage, Audra was walking up. Caelyn waved and Audra walked over toward her. I don't know what they talked about but at one point Audra pointed out Caelyn's Ramones shirt. Audra gave Caelyn a hug and walked on stage.
The nice thing about Audrarox is that they actually do rock. They are very good musicians who play various styles of music well. If you never heard the lyrics, you would have no idea the music was intended for kids. It's a show that the adults can enjoy which is good considering this would be the 5th time we have seen them.
The show started. Caelyn started dancing. During the first song, Caelyn ended up on the mic for a little bit. The rest of the show, Caelyn spent running, jumping and dancing. At one point it looked as if she was trying to start in miniature mosh pit.
Caleb was not as thrilled. He had woken up early this morning (6 am) and when 10:30 (the show's start time) rolled around, he was hot, sweaty and tired. Unfortunately, he decided that being attached to me was the way to make himself feel better. This only added to him sweating and getting more and more cranky. He did end up dancing around by the end of the show but I don't think he had all that great of a time.
Once the show was over, I loaded up the kids in the double stroller and walked downtown to my old workplace to say hi. I have kept in touch with some of the people from the office but several years had passed since I had actually been there. The core of the company was still the same and I saw some old friends. The kids were quiet and shy for about two minutes then started to take over the place.
After the office visit, I took the kids to a nearby pizza place I used to frequent. Sitting outside in back of the place, I was reminded that while our local pizza place in Jersey is very good, it is still not New York pizza. The kids pigged out and we headed back to the van.
The return home was uneventful. Caleb had fallen asleep in the stroller on the ride back to the van and never woke as I placed him in his car seat. Even Caelyn fell asleep during the drive home.
As we walked into Madison Square Park, Caelyn asked if we were going to the playground. She loves the playground there. She seemed a bit disappointed but took it well when I told her no and we walked past it. It was then she saw the stage.
After dropping off the stroller, we found a place close to the front. Caelyn looked up at the stage and stopped short. "It's Audrarox", she yelled at me as she saw who was behind the stage. She got excited when I told her that is who we were there to see.
I had picked an open spot near the stage as I knew Caelyn would be heading to the very front as soon as possible. I wanted to be able to keep an eye on her. She kept telling me she wasn't close enough and I assured her she could go as soon as the show started. Finally, I just let her go as she was getting anxious.
When she got near the stage, Audra was walking up. Caelyn waved and Audra walked over toward her. I don't know what they talked about but at one point Audra pointed out Caelyn's Ramones shirt. Audra gave Caelyn a hug and walked on stage.
The nice thing about Audrarox is that they actually do rock. They are very good musicians who play various styles of music well. If you never heard the lyrics, you would have no idea the music was intended for kids. It's a show that the adults can enjoy which is good considering this would be the 5th time we have seen them.
The show started. Caelyn started dancing. During the first song, Caelyn ended up on the mic for a little bit. The rest of the show, Caelyn spent running, jumping and dancing. At one point it looked as if she was trying to start in miniature mosh pit.
Caleb was not as thrilled. He had woken up early this morning (6 am) and when 10:30 (the show's start time) rolled around, he was hot, sweaty and tired. Unfortunately, he decided that being attached to me was the way to make himself feel better. This only added to him sweating and getting more and more cranky. He did end up dancing around by the end of the show but I don't think he had all that great of a time.
Once the show was over, I loaded up the kids in the double stroller and walked downtown to my old workplace to say hi. I have kept in touch with some of the people from the office but several years had passed since I had actually been there. The core of the company was still the same and I saw some old friends. The kids were quiet and shy for about two minutes then started to take over the place.
After the office visit, I took the kids to a nearby pizza place I used to frequent. Sitting outside in back of the place, I was reminded that while our local pizza place in Jersey is very good, it is still not New York pizza. The kids pigged out and we headed back to the van.
The return home was uneventful. Caleb had fallen asleep in the stroller on the ride back to the van and never woke as I placed him in his car seat. Even Caelyn fell asleep during the drive home.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
One Long Fun Sunday
We normally go into the city on Sundays for church. We have deep roots there and though we now live in Jersey, we still consider Gustavus Adolphus our church home. If the weather permits, we typically try to do other things in the city after church as well. Usually, it is playgrounds or street fairs. Things we can do as a family.
Today, at Summerstage in Central Park, was Global Family Day. Before we went to that though, one of Kerry's college friends was in town for a conference and met us at our church. After the service, we all went to lunch before he had to catch a flight back home.
After a nice lunch at Lyric diner, we drove uptown to head to Summerstage in Central Park. In addition to clowns and several booths of kid friendly items, many of which were free, there was live music and acrobatics. Other than brief clips on the internet, we were not familiar with any of the acts but the kids love live music so we guessed it would be a safe gamble.
The only question mark was the weather. It was hot. Not sure what the exact temperature was but mid to upper 90s was about right. Fortunately, there are some shady areas at summer stage. Unfortunately, none of the shade was up by the stage where our daughter has to be.
The first act to play was a group of four 13 year old kids. They were not bad. Excellent considering their age. The band could actually play and the female singer had a pretty good stage presence. Since our son loves girls that sing, I took him up front near his sister. He did get the singers attention and a wave but due to no nap and 90+ weather, he really didn't seem to notice.
The second band were good musicians but the singer was a bit to sing-songy for me. Caleb and I moved back into the shade. He was more interested in a nap anyway. Which is what he did. He decided that if he couldn't have his crib, I would be it and he passed out. I spent the next couple of hours with him laid out across me.
The third group to perform was Bethany and Rufus. They played traditional American folk and roots music. It wasn't music made for kids but it was music that the kids enjoyed. They even did some gospel. The highlight for me was when Bethany's father joined them onstage.
Peter Yarrow, of Peter, Paul and Mary, is Bethany's father. They did a few songs together and ended the set with Puff the Magic Dragon. Watching them, I felt like a kid. Peter Yarrow decided that there would be no sad ending to the song today (perhaps because his 3 year old granddaughter was onstage singing with them at this point) so he improvised an extra verse where the little boy grows up and has a son of his own who seeks out and befriends Puff.
The finial act was Ralph's World. I did not know them but heard nothing but good things about them. Seeing them live, I understand why. They are really good. The kids loved them and if the screaming moms behind were any indication, so did the adults. Caleb started to wake during the end of their set and danced a little but was far to tired to do much.
After the show ended, Caelyn went to meet Ralph and get a picture. It is getting pretty ridiculous. She has it in her head that at every show she attends, she should be able to get on stage or at least meet the band. Of course, this is probably because at almost every show she has gone to, she either ended up on stage or met the band.
We finally got home around seven and turned dinner over as fast as possible to get two very tired children to bed. Two very tired children, now sleeping soundly.
Today, at Summerstage in Central Park, was Global Family Day. Before we went to that though, one of Kerry's college friends was in town for a conference and met us at our church. After the service, we all went to lunch before he had to catch a flight back home.
(Before lunch with Kerry's college friend, Caelyn had to hop on our friend Donald's Ducati and rev the engine a little.)
After a nice lunch at Lyric diner, we drove uptown to head to Summerstage in Central Park. In addition to clowns and several booths of kid friendly items, many of which were free, there was live music and acrobatics. Other than brief clips on the internet, we were not familiar with any of the acts but the kids love live music so we guessed it would be a safe gamble.
The only question mark was the weather. It was hot. Not sure what the exact temperature was but mid to upper 90s was about right. Fortunately, there are some shady areas at summer stage. Unfortunately, none of the shade was up by the stage where our daughter has to be.
The first act to play was a group of four 13 year old kids. They were not bad. Excellent considering their age. The band could actually play and the female singer had a pretty good stage presence. Since our son loves girls that sing, I took him up front near his sister. He did get the singers attention and a wave but due to no nap and 90+ weather, he really didn't seem to notice.
The second band were good musicians but the singer was a bit to sing-songy for me. Caleb and I moved back into the shade. He was more interested in a nap anyway. Which is what he did. He decided that if he couldn't have his crib, I would be it and he passed out. I spent the next couple of hours with him laid out across me.
The third group to perform was Bethany and Rufus. They played traditional American folk and roots music. It wasn't music made for kids but it was music that the kids enjoyed. They even did some gospel. The highlight for me was when Bethany's father joined them onstage.
Peter Yarrow, of Peter, Paul and Mary, is Bethany's father. They did a few songs together and ended the set with Puff the Magic Dragon. Watching them, I felt like a kid. Peter Yarrow decided that there would be no sad ending to the song today (perhaps because his 3 year old granddaughter was onstage singing with them at this point) so he improvised an extra verse where the little boy grows up and has a son of his own who seeks out and befriends Puff.
(Three generations of Yarrows singing together.)
The finial act was Ralph's World. I did not know them but heard nothing but good things about them. Seeing them live, I understand why. They are really good. The kids loved them and if the screaming moms behind were any indication, so did the adults. Caleb started to wake during the end of their set and danced a little but was far to tired to do much.
(Ralph joins the crowd for his last song.)
After the show ended, Caelyn went to meet Ralph and get a picture. It is getting pretty ridiculous. She has it in her head that at every show she attends, she should be able to get on stage or at least meet the band. Of course, this is probably because at almost every show she has gone to, she either ended up on stage or met the band.
(Caelyn with Ralph of Ralph's World)
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