March 10, 2005
Annie is now five and a half. As I left kindergarten this morning, I got a kiss on the cheek, an "I love you", and she was off to play with her friends. It reminded me of something I've been fond of saying: every stage she goes through is better than the last. Granted, we have a ways to go before the teenage years. I hope I still believe that it is a good stage!
God has an interesting way of encouraging the next level of development, even though there are new fears everytime a child's degree of freedom is extended. When she first started trying to walk, I'd hold her hands and she would walk around... and around... and out... and back again. My back was killing me. I'm about 6'4", and she was less than three feet tall. I had to stoop a lot, and couldn't wait for her to start doing this on her own. Of course, my initial reaction is that she's going to fall a lot, is going to start getting into things she shouldn't, etc. But the back pain provided a reason to get over those fears.
I figure when she starts driving it will be the same. I'll be so sick and tired of driving her around all the time, I'll be glad she can drive herself. And I'll have to temper my fear everytime she goes out that she'll get hit on the road, or lose control on the curvy roads... Ok, I'd better stop thinking about that right now. I have ten more years...
As we've gone through our stages, though, I do find a warm sense of nostalgia for her early years. I am proud of her independence and adaptability, but miss being needed as much. I remember getting her out of her crib, wrapping her in a blanket, and sitting on the deck to watch the sun rise. She slept through it as often as not, but there was none of this "five more minutes!" when I got her up. When I look at her there is a shimmering of images as I see the person she is, the person she is becoming, and the person she used to be. I see her eating her cake on her first birthday. She had cake all over her.... except for one of her hands, which she stuck in Soren's mouth to be cleaned. I gave her a bath, let out the water, refilled the tub, and bathed her all over again.
I see the little girl who, although she could barely walk, would get up and dance to the music from Law and Order, and get upset when it was over. There's also the girl that would cry when I left her at daycare (which resulted in me crying when I left daycare). The excited kindergartner on her first day of school. The crying baby that I used to soothe in the winter by taking her outside to watch the trees dance for her in the wind... And now, the girl who confidently says good-bye as she begins her school day.
In the jumble of thoughts and images about her growing up, though, I think I am still most fond of when she was still small enough to comfortably fit in the crook of my arm. Granted, she still likes to snuggle in my lap sometimes, but she has a tendency to grab me in uncomfortable ways sometimes. Yes, I still have some chest hair left.
I won't say I miss the way she used to talk, but it was very sweet (no backtalk). I love the way she laughs now, which she does a lot. But, there was something that made you just want to drop everything and snuggle with her when she would laugh or when she said bye to me.
Pardon my reminiscing, we now return you to the present.
Weeds have nothing on growing children
God has an interesting way of encouraging the next level of development, even though there are new fears everytime a child's degree of freedom is extended. When she first started trying to walk, I'd hold her hands and she would walk around... and around... and out... and back again. My back was killing me. I'm about 6'4", and she was less than three feet tall. I had to stoop a lot, and couldn't wait for her to start doing this on her own. Of course, my initial reaction is that she's going to fall a lot, is going to start getting into things she shouldn't, etc. But the back pain provided a reason to get over those fears.
I figure when she starts driving it will be the same. I'll be so sick and tired of driving her around all the time, I'll be glad she can drive herself. And I'll have to temper my fear everytime she goes out that she'll get hit on the road, or lose control on the curvy roads... Ok, I'd better stop thinking about that right now. I have ten more years...
As we've gone through our stages, though, I do find a warm sense of nostalgia for her early years. I am proud of her independence and adaptability, but miss being needed as much. I remember getting her out of her crib, wrapping her in a blanket, and sitting on the deck to watch the sun rise. She slept through it as often as not, but there was none of this "five more minutes!" when I got her up. When I look at her there is a shimmering of images as I see the person she is, the person she is becoming, and the person she used to be. I see her eating her cake on her first birthday. She had cake all over her.... except for one of her hands, which she stuck in Soren's mouth to be cleaned. I gave her a bath, let out the water, refilled the tub, and bathed her all over again.
I see the little girl who, although she could barely walk, would get up and dance to the music from Law and Order, and get upset when it was over. There's also the girl that would cry when I left her at daycare (which resulted in me crying when I left daycare). The excited kindergartner on her first day of school. The crying baby that I used to soothe in the winter by taking her outside to watch the trees dance for her in the wind... And now, the girl who confidently says good-bye as she begins her school day.
In the jumble of thoughts and images about her growing up, though, I think I am still most fond of when she was still small enough to comfortably fit in the crook of my arm. Granted, she still likes to snuggle in my lap sometimes, but she has a tendency to grab me in uncomfortable ways sometimes. Yes, I still have some chest hair left.
I won't say I miss the way she used to talk, but it was very sweet (no backtalk). I love the way she laughs now, which she does a lot. But, there was something that made you just want to drop everything and snuggle with her when she would laugh or when she said bye to me.
Pardon my reminiscing, we now return you to the present.
Weeds have nothing on growing children
March 09, 2005
Flanders and I went together on buying the boat. Unfortunately, given Flanders distant living location, he wasn't as versed on running the river. He never skipped school to go fishing. So, I knew this river like the back of my hand. I could see shoals, rocks, whatever. One time, Flanders and I went down river. We were hoping for some large-mouth bass. We got nothing. But, we were able to drink some beer while we got nothing, so it was ok. Not having as much experience on the water, Flanders wanted to run the boat.
We headed upstream at essentially full throttle. (Flanders says 3/4 throttle.) As typical, in my controlling way, I sat at the front of the boat, looking for obstacles. I didn't want to be demanding, but I saw what looked like a sandbar barely pushing through the top of the water. We were moving towards it, because up until now, that was the deep side of the river. I saw it, and pointed to it (there was no point in talking over the sound of the motor). Flanders said, "what do you want me to do". My response: Gun it. We hit the sandbar at about 30 mph, and skipped over it. We hit the other side at the same speed, and kept on going without problem.
I loved that boat. We bounced over boulders in the river, and could always recover or fix whatever happened. I miss that life.
River Rat
We headed upstream at essentially full throttle. (Flanders says 3/4 throttle.) As typical, in my controlling way, I sat at the front of the boat, looking for obstacles. I didn't want to be demanding, but I saw what looked like a sandbar barely pushing through the top of the water. We were moving towards it, because up until now, that was the deep side of the river. I saw it, and pointed to it (there was no point in talking over the sound of the motor). Flanders said, "what do you want me to do". My response: Gun it. We hit the sandbar at about 30 mph, and skipped over it. We hit the other side at the same speed, and kept on going without problem.
I loved that boat. We bounced over boulders in the river, and could always recover or fix whatever happened. I miss that life.
River Rat
My folks live on the Pomme de Terre Lake in southwest Missouri. It's a small lake by Missouri standards, but it's large for California (go figure). Every year, my mom has a thing about being the first one in the lake. Well, this time she got it: no competition.
It was Easter. It was fairly warm outside. The sun was out, and there was no wind. The trees were bare, not having found the days long enough to leaf out. I learned a lot about working a canoe from my first wife. Her family could do amazing things (well, if you find canoes amazing) with canoes. Mom wanted to go for a canoe ride. We borrowed the neighbor's canoe, and got ready.
I told my mom to keep her center-of-gravity low... hunker down while you get in the canoe. I sat it the canoe and held the gunwales to keep it balanced. She put one leg in, and I balanced the craft. She put the other foot in and stood up. The canoe went over. We dumped into the freezing water. We stood up in two feet of water, laughing hysterically. Well, we were already wet, and there was no wind. So, we got in the canoe, and went paddeling around the cove. We dried off after our trip around the cove, and had a great adventure.
She still tries to blame me for dumping the canoe.
Different life... I'm dry now.
It was Easter. It was fairly warm outside. The sun was out, and there was no wind. The trees were bare, not having found the days long enough to leaf out. I learned a lot about working a canoe from my first wife. Her family could do amazing things (well, if you find canoes amazing) with canoes. Mom wanted to go for a canoe ride. We borrowed the neighbor's canoe, and got ready.
I told my mom to keep her center-of-gravity low... hunker down while you get in the canoe. I sat it the canoe and held the gunwales to keep it balanced. She put one leg in, and I balanced the craft. She put the other foot in and stood up. The canoe went over. We dumped into the freezing water. We stood up in two feet of water, laughing hysterically. Well, we were already wet, and there was no wind. So, we got in the canoe, and went paddeling around the cove. We dried off after our trip around the cove, and had a great adventure.
She still tries to blame me for dumping the canoe.
Different life... I'm dry now.
Finally. Annie will eat fish. You see, her mother doesn't eat fish (although I did get her to eat sushi once). As a result, Annie thinks fish is icky. This caused a problem when I was dating this lady some time ago. She made this wonderful dinner of chilean sea-bass. It was exquisite. I asked (forced) Annie to try it. She made a face and said "I'm going to throw up". I think that was one of the reasons that that relationship didn't work. At any rate, my attempts to encourage her to try fish were unsuccessful. When she spent the night at Colleen's they had fish sticks. Being a good guest, she tried it (I mean, come on, Colleen was eating it!), and decided she liked it.
Now we are at the other side of the spectrum. I bought some breaded fish fillets and we've been eating them.
Yes, the darn it thing has gotten on my nerves lately, but it could be worse, I guess.
And what kid doesn't always want pizza? Well, at least it's progress...
Fishy.
Now we are at the other side of the spectrum. I bought some breaded fish fillets and we've been eating them.
Daddy: I'm tired and hungry. How about we order pizza tonight.
Annie: No, I want fish.
Daddy: We ate all the fish last night.
Annie: You ate all the fish!!!!
Daddy: No, we ate all the fish last night.
Annie: Can we buy more.
Daddy: Not tonight.
Annie: Darn it!
Yes, the darn it thing has gotten on my nerves lately, but it could be worse, I guess.
And what kid doesn't always want pizza? Well, at least it's progress...
Fishy.
My apologies to friends and family back east (Californians consider everything east of California back east). Today is absolutely beautiful. Maybe this is why the cost of living is so freakin' high out here. I'm showing 90 degrees in the sun, which contrasts with the remaining two strands of Christmas lights that I haven't climbed onto the roof to remove, yet. Everything is green and vibrant. If it makes you feel better that means that the green and vibrant grass is about two feet tall... If you are dealing with the cold and wintery weather, at least take solace that I deserve at least something to go well. Life is a four-legged stool. You can survive adequately if three of the legs are strong. Actually, the one time I milked a cow it was on a one-legged stool, so maybe you only need one leg to be strong?
Satisfied with the legs that are not broken...
Satisfied with the legs that are not broken...
My trip to the orthodontist was much more pleasant than last time (last ortho post). I really don't like to be rude, and was having problems telling the receptionist that I absolutely didn't want the moron again. To make matters worse, I'm terrible about names (not that the Moron ever told me her name). Fortunately, as I stumbled with my words, and said "that person over there and I just don't seem to mesh well", the receptionist nodded and said she understood. I recognize that I'm a bit demanding. I ask everyone to be the best at being themselves, and I try to do the same. This is probably where my friend Veronica attacks me for being too controlling, but that's me. I'm too old to change. At least too old to change quickly. At 35, I figure half my life is alreay behind me. I have other things to work on now. Like being single... an a parent... But I digress...
The lady who worked on my braces today was cool. She was nice, polite, and apologetic when she injured me. The doctor came over and confirmed what I already suspected: my jaw structure is such that it is going to take a long time to move my teeth. Maybe we should just extract my teeth, and let my jaws break the food. I think they could do it. Anyway, she had some new ideas to try to bring my teeth into alignment. All I wanted when I started this adventure was to extend the life of my teeth. I didn't know it was going to be a journal article... again. (When I was five I had some disease that paralyzed me from the waist down, and they were concerned it would move up my body. With help from my sister, who pushed me delicately, I learned to walk again in record time. Supposedly, it was written up somewhere by somebody.)
So, as much as I hate to floss and brush my teeth a zillion times a day, I now have a spring between a couple of teeth. Yes. A spring. This miracle device of technological advancement is intended to pull some teeth to make space for the problem child. One of my molars just refuses to move. In fact, it apparently rejected the wire the last time I was in, which is why I was in such pain. The wires shifted and protruded into my cheek. This is why we shouldn't bow to vanity. God uses Karma to punish you.
Ultimately, I'm going to be in braces for a while. I don't know why that surprises me. Every time I decide to do a project, I set a timeline, and never meet it. When I first went to the orthodontist, the doctor I spoke to said it would be about a year... a little longer. It's been months, and my teeth haven't budged. Looking for the silver lining, at least I don't have to pay for the really expensive tooth-rebuilding procedure for a while. Maybe stock will recover by then.
God, please don't let Annie have my jaws/teeth...
Long in the tooth, but harmless as can be...
The lady who worked on my braces today was cool. She was nice, polite, and apologetic when she injured me. The doctor came over and confirmed what I already suspected: my jaw structure is such that it is going to take a long time to move my teeth. Maybe we should just extract my teeth, and let my jaws break the food. I think they could do it. Anyway, she had some new ideas to try to bring my teeth into alignment. All I wanted when I started this adventure was to extend the life of my teeth. I didn't know it was going to be a journal article... again. (When I was five I had some disease that paralyzed me from the waist down, and they were concerned it would move up my body. With help from my sister, who pushed me delicately, I learned to walk again in record time. Supposedly, it was written up somewhere by somebody.)
So, as much as I hate to floss and brush my teeth a zillion times a day, I now have a spring between a couple of teeth. Yes. A spring. This miracle device of technological advancement is intended to pull some teeth to make space for the problem child. One of my molars just refuses to move. In fact, it apparently rejected the wire the last time I was in, which is why I was in such pain. The wires shifted and protruded into my cheek. This is why we shouldn't bow to vanity. God uses Karma to punish you.
Ultimately, I'm going to be in braces for a while. I don't know why that surprises me. Every time I decide to do a project, I set a timeline, and never meet it. When I first went to the orthodontist, the doctor I spoke to said it would be about a year... a little longer. It's been months, and my teeth haven't budged. Looking for the silver lining, at least I don't have to pay for the really expensive tooth-rebuilding procedure for a while. Maybe stock will recover by then.
God, please don't let Annie have my jaws/teeth...
Long in the tooth, but harmless as can be...
March 08, 2005
My parents are concerned that I'm going to leak stories about the family that they don't want aired. So, I thought I'd describe a story that I'm not too proud of, but I still find funny.
Engineering school is very demanding. Maybe not more than any other school, but we thought so. We covered our sanity by trying to find times to completely unwind. Rolla is not a large town, and there isn't much to do at the last minute. Sure, we had great fishing and spelunking opportunities, but that takes planning. If you wanted a last minute thrill you went to the train bridge. And you brought beer, which must be consumed on the way.
The train bridge was an old wooden bridge that in the dead of night still had one train that transported goods. You could sit on the bridge with your legs dangling down and as the train came over the hill, it looked like it ws going to take your legs off... never mind that the bottom of the bridge was below your legs even for a talk gangly person like me. It was a thrill. When you had a good drive, he would even blast the horn as he went below the bridge.
Well, on this particular night, we decided to go to the train bridge. We had smuggled in some beer (God, no!) to our rooms. Flanders and I had rallied the troops for the event, and had chosen coats to meet the occasion. We had Lord only knows how many beer bottles stuffed down our sleeves. We couldn't walk without clanking. Curse our good nature. We had recently brought up to our RA (irony: we both became RAs) an issue with a fellow floor member that concerned us. We walked out our doors and were met by our RA and the Assistant Director of Residential Life. We held very still. We covered the issue, and went about our business. I later found out that they knew about our stuffed sleeves, but couldn't prove anything from what the saw, and were just hoping to make our beer warm. Not something I did as an RA.
We finally exited the building and began making our way to the bridge. Unfortunately, we had gained a tag-a-long that we didn't really want. He was the animal nerd from the Far Side. "Hi, Guys. What are you doing?" But, we didn't want to hurt his feelings (until now), so we let him join us. On the way to the bridge we had our share of bad ideas. Before we got to the bridge, our tag-a-long indicated that he had lost his keys. Good Lord. I'm a geek, but this was unreal. We went back to where he thought he lost them: a day care center where we had... er... decided to enjoy the play area.(Hey! they had cool equipment!) We were scouring the area for the keys, when the cops pulled up. We politely told them that our friend was here earlier and lost his keys, and we were trying to help him find them. They left. It was 2:00 am. What the heck? "Hello officer, we're stalking small children, and planting cameras for that purpose..." "Carry on..." I'm not commenting on cops in general, just those. I've had other bad communications with them, so pardon my disgust.
We never got to see the train on that trek. But, in my opinion, it makes a good story....
Thank the Lord for college...
Choo-choo...
Engineering school is very demanding. Maybe not more than any other school, but we thought so. We covered our sanity by trying to find times to completely unwind. Rolla is not a large town, and there isn't much to do at the last minute. Sure, we had great fishing and spelunking opportunities, but that takes planning. If you wanted a last minute thrill you went to the train bridge. And you brought beer, which must be consumed on the way.
The train bridge was an old wooden bridge that in the dead of night still had one train that transported goods. You could sit on the bridge with your legs dangling down and as the train came over the hill, it looked like it ws going to take your legs off... never mind that the bottom of the bridge was below your legs even for a talk gangly person like me. It was a thrill. When you had a good drive, he would even blast the horn as he went below the bridge.
Well, on this particular night, we decided to go to the train bridge. We had smuggled in some beer (God, no!) to our rooms. Flanders and I had rallied the troops for the event, and had chosen coats to meet the occasion. We had Lord only knows how many beer bottles stuffed down our sleeves. We couldn't walk without clanking. Curse our good nature. We had recently brought up to our RA (irony: we both became RAs) an issue with a fellow floor member that concerned us. We walked out our doors and were met by our RA and the Assistant Director of Residential Life. We held very still. We covered the issue, and went about our business. I later found out that they knew about our stuffed sleeves, but couldn't prove anything from what the saw, and were just hoping to make our beer warm. Not something I did as an RA.
We finally exited the building and began making our way to the bridge. Unfortunately, we had gained a tag-a-long that we didn't really want. He was the animal nerd from the Far Side. "Hi, Guys. What are you doing?" But, we didn't want to hurt his feelings (until now), so we let him join us. On the way to the bridge we had our share of bad ideas. Before we got to the bridge, our tag-a-long indicated that he had lost his keys. Good Lord. I'm a geek, but this was unreal. We went back to where he thought he lost them: a day care center where we had... er... decided to enjoy the play area.(Hey! they had cool equipment!) We were scouring the area for the keys, when the cops pulled up. We politely told them that our friend was here earlier and lost his keys, and we were trying to help him find them. They left. It was 2:00 am. What the heck? "Hello officer, we're stalking small children, and planting cameras for that purpose..." "Carry on..." I'm not commenting on cops in general, just those. I've had other bad communications with them, so pardon my disgust.
We never got to see the train on that trek. But, in my opinion, it makes a good story....
Thank the Lord for college...
Choo-choo...
Annie is currently watching Long Shot. It's a movie about a lady making a life for herself through dressage.
I do admit that I love to watch her act it out. When Colleen and Annie play during kindergarten at recess Annie now plays the part of the horse in this movie. Colleen plays Spirit. The growth in imagination is wonderful.
If you ever get a chance, read the book The Neverending Story.
The movie only covers half the story. The first half of the book provides a metaphor for the need for imagination. The second half of the book covers the danger in letting imagination dominate one's life. It's great stuff. On top of that, it was written (I think) in 1979. This was before the advent of so many of the dynamic media choices we have now. The book is written in two colors: one color for things that happen in one "world" and another color for things in the "other world". It's absolutely great.
Anyway, I like Annie's adaptation of her imagination.
Flying on the back of a dragon... or horse... or whatever...
Daddy: I'll let you watch the horse movie while you eat.
Annie: Nooooo. I have to act it out. I can't do that while I eat.
Daddy: Well, we can pause it while you eat.
Annie: Nooooo. Then I can't watch anything while I eat.
Daddy: You don't need to watch TV while you eat, it's a special thing for you to do.
Annie: *humph*
Daddy: The movie is long. By the time you finish eating you will still have time to act out the rest of the movie.
Annie: Ok.
I do admit that I love to watch her act it out. When Colleen and Annie play during kindergarten at recess Annie now plays the part of the horse in this movie. Colleen plays Spirit. The growth in imagination is wonderful.
If you ever get a chance, read the book The Neverending Story.
The movie only covers half the story. The first half of the book provides a metaphor for the need for imagination. The second half of the book covers the danger in letting imagination dominate one's life. It's great stuff. On top of that, it was written (I think) in 1979. This was before the advent of so many of the dynamic media choices we have now. The book is written in two colors: one color for things that happen in one "world" and another color for things in the "other world". It's absolutely great.
Anyway, I like Annie's adaptation of her imagination.
Flying on the back of a dragon... or horse... or whatever...
The weather has been amazing lately. As a consequence my office has moved. You didn't believe me when I said I had a great job? This is my office when the weather is good...
Very happily employed...
I have my computer, my phone, my calculator, my notebook, my secure access card, and any books that I might need. The redwood tree behind the computer is a great back rest, and I listen to nature all.day.long… God, I love my job… And I’m productive, too. I call in to conference calls where I pace the deck while listening and giving my two cents worth. I’ve spent the day doing circuit analysis, and answering e-mails. There was a good reason that I went to school for ten years…
Very happily employed...
Just a quick note: it's ok to wave at people on the road. When someone waves at you, wave back. When someone does something nice for you on the road: wave. And use all five fingers....
Tired of rude people...
Tired of rude people...