I had the pleasure of spending my entire day with Grayson!
The child has been under the weather for almost two weeks now, and after a few doctors appointments, some discussions with daycare, and a few days with relatives, we decided that Grayson needed to stay home. Since Stacy's job keeps her tied to her desk (and she had already taken time off earlier in the week), I worked from home today, and I'll do so tomorrow.
I certainly gained a lot of respect for child care professionals today; it took extra effort and planning to get any significant work done. Grayson ate up as much of my time as I'd allow. There were feedings during conference calls, and there were enough poopy diapers to make our trash noticeable.
What I recognized today, while bonding with the child, was that he changes every day. People... parents, have told me over the years that children change quickly, and that if you blink you could miss it. I believed them, but Now I know the.
G changes so much, and I don't get to see that often. But today, I got to witness it first hand. He crawled. He babbled. He whined. He reached for things. He was perfect in his own ways. I'm lucky to be blessed with some time with him. I'm glad that he is in my life, teaching me something new every day, especially when life gets in the way from you.
6.06.2013
6.05.2013
Torske
Once a year, the men of my church choir gather at a house of one of our members, and we participate in a Norwegian tradition known as torske. I'm not Norwegian (half of us aren't), so my understanding of torske is probably a caricature of the real thing... it is basically the blandest, whitest meal I've ever seen (cod and boiled potatoes) drowned in drawn butter with just a shot of aquavit to wash it down. Prior to the meal, we sing the Norwegian national anthem, "Ja Vie Elsker." Pardon the spelling if that is incorrect. After the meal, we each answer the question posed to the table.
A few years back, we were asked to talk about our fathers. Two years ago, it was our mothers. Last year it was our teachers. This year, we were asked to talk about our siblings. What a joy it was to share with a group of middle-aged to elderly men my thoughts about my two younger sisters. I have been blessed in my life with independent, intelligent, and individualistic sisters. Both sisters, unique in their own rights, have surprised me with their capacity to succeed.
The middle one is 120 pounds soaking wet, but studies jujitsu (she will kick your ass), and she demonstrates a willingness to care for and help people every day. She is an amazing step-mom, and one heck of a driver.
The youngest has always reached aspirations that seem impossible to a normal person. This world has always been too small for her. She is a jet-setter. She is a financial whiz, and she can hold an intelligent conversation with just about anybody on any given subject.
Both are courageous. Both are beautiful. Both are strong. Both aren't afraid to be honest or vulnerable. Both are stubborn. Both have a quick whit. Both are fabulous siblings.
I don't tell them this enough, but I'm proud to be their brother. I love them.
Bring on the torske!
A few years back, we were asked to talk about our fathers. Two years ago, it was our mothers. Last year it was our teachers. This year, we were asked to talk about our siblings. What a joy it was to share with a group of middle-aged to elderly men my thoughts about my two younger sisters. I have been blessed in my life with independent, intelligent, and individualistic sisters. Both sisters, unique in their own rights, have surprised me with their capacity to succeed.
The middle one is 120 pounds soaking wet, but studies jujitsu (she will kick your ass), and she demonstrates a willingness to care for and help people every day. She is an amazing step-mom, and one heck of a driver.
The youngest has always reached aspirations that seem impossible to a normal person. This world has always been too small for her. She is a jet-setter. She is a financial whiz, and she can hold an intelligent conversation with just about anybody on any given subject.
Both are courageous. Both are beautiful. Both are strong. Both aren't afraid to be honest or vulnerable. Both are stubborn. Both have a quick whit. Both are fabulous siblings.
I don't tell them this enough, but I'm proud to be their brother. I love them.
Bring on the torske!
6.04.2013
Anniversary Reflections
Two years ago today, I married the woman of my dreams and the mother of my Grayson.
Anniversaries are a time to reflect on what has passed, to remember the moments that defined the day. When I look back, I remember the beautiful weather. The sun was shining, and the air was warm. I remember driving to the ceremony in casual clothes, stopping at Jimmy John's for a quick bite of lunch. I remember seeing my father-in-law's '65 LeMans parked in front of the chapel, waxed and gleaming in light. I remember seeing my wife walk down the aisle trying her best not to cry. I remember the smiles on my friends and family. I don't remember a thing the pastor said to me that day, but I have it written down somewhere, so that's okay. I remember the drive over the 3rd Ave. bridge into downtown. I remember dancing with my wife, my sisters, my nephew. Most of all, I remember the love surrounding me; it was almost tangible that day, especially in the way I looked at my bride, and the way she looked at me.
When I reflect on what has passed in two years, I think about how both Stacy and I have changed jobs. I think about how our love had grown. I think about all the furniture we've bought and sold. (I think about moving a 275 lb. desk!) I think about friendships that have waxed and waned. I think about major family transitions: a sister getting married; one niece joining the family and another being born; retirements and graduations. Most of all, I think about the birth of our son, the miraculous expression of our love and the representation of our ever-growing future together. He is perfect, and he is joy. He is the best of me and the best of her. Every time I look at him, I see our wedding day and the promises made: promises of unconditional love; promise of courage and support in the face of adversity; the promise of forever.
On a day like today, on my anniversary, I love the fact that I get to say "I do" all over again. I'm a lucky man.
Anniversaries are a time to reflect on what has passed, to remember the moments that defined the day. When I look back, I remember the beautiful weather. The sun was shining, and the air was warm. I remember driving to the ceremony in casual clothes, stopping at Jimmy John's for a quick bite of lunch. I remember seeing my father-in-law's '65 LeMans parked in front of the chapel, waxed and gleaming in light. I remember seeing my wife walk down the aisle trying her best not to cry. I remember the smiles on my friends and family. I don't remember a thing the pastor said to me that day, but I have it written down somewhere, so that's okay. I remember the drive over the 3rd Ave. bridge into downtown. I remember dancing with my wife, my sisters, my nephew. Most of all, I remember the love surrounding me; it was almost tangible that day, especially in the way I looked at my bride, and the way she looked at me.
When I reflect on what has passed in two years, I think about how both Stacy and I have changed jobs. I think about how our love had grown. I think about all the furniture we've bought and sold. (I think about moving a 275 lb. desk!) I think about friendships that have waxed and waned. I think about major family transitions: a sister getting married; one niece joining the family and another being born; retirements and graduations. Most of all, I think about the birth of our son, the miraculous expression of our love and the representation of our ever-growing future together. He is perfect, and he is joy. He is the best of me and the best of her. Every time I look at him, I see our wedding day and the promises made: promises of unconditional love; promise of courage and support in the face of adversity; the promise of forever.
On a day like today, on my anniversary, I love the fact that I get to say "I do" all over again. I'm a lucky man.
6.03.2013
The Blowout
Turns out parenthood is messy! When I chose to become a father, I did so thinking I was fully informed. I assumed there would be some spit up; I was cognisant of the fact that Grayson would get into things like the doggy dishes, and I was certainly aware there would be poopy diapers.
I don't think anyone, though, could have amply prepared me for the blowout diaper. Mind you, I had heard rumors of such a thing, but I guess I never assumed they would be bad, or frequent, or that they would happen to my child.
Grayson has had diarrhea for the last 10 days (give or take). Before you freak out, we've taken him to the doctor, who diagnosed him with a virus and told us that he will be just fine. He isn't dehydrated; he doesn't have a bad fever. He just has the "trots," as Grandpa Oman would call them.
Boy does it trot. All the way up his back. He had one on Saturday that was almost up to his neck. Changing such a monstrosity is a two person gig. This is mainly because he squirms so much when you change his diaper these days that if you don't have one person holding him still, he will roll around in it like he's a hunting dog.
The first blowout is a semi-cute moment... something to cherish. The third is a bit annoying.
The 15th is cruel and unusual.
But all of it was my choice, and I'd choose it again every day. Twice on Mondays.
I don't think anyone, though, could have amply prepared me for the blowout diaper. Mind you, I had heard rumors of such a thing, but I guess I never assumed they would be bad, or frequent, or that they would happen to my child.
Grayson has had diarrhea for the last 10 days (give or take). Before you freak out, we've taken him to the doctor, who diagnosed him with a virus and told us that he will be just fine. He isn't dehydrated; he doesn't have a bad fever. He just has the "trots," as Grandpa Oman would call them.
Boy does it trot. All the way up his back. He had one on Saturday that was almost up to his neck. Changing such a monstrosity is a two person gig. This is mainly because he squirms so much when you change his diaper these days that if you don't have one person holding him still, he will roll around in it like he's a hunting dog.
The first blowout is a semi-cute moment... something to cherish. The third is a bit annoying.
The 15th is cruel and unusual.
But all of it was my choice, and I'd choose it again every day. Twice on Mondays.
6.02.2013
Perfect Weather
When I meet people from out of state, I'm often asked why I choose to live in Minnesota. I'm an adult, I could live anywhere in the world I want. Both of my sisters escaped to bigger cities.
My response to that question is today. We have 6 beautiful days a year (give or take), and today was one of them. Low to mid 70's, a light breeze, wispy clouds. It's warm in the sun and cool in the shade. I couldn't even feel the sunburn I was getting. We grilled twice.
Lunch-time grilling was a neighborhood affair. There is a couple who lives a few doors down; they have two young boys, and we've always been pretty friendly. Today was the first day that we've hung out for an extended period of time though. We each pulled our grills down the driveways near the street, cooked chicken, shrimp and hot dogs, and we ate in our front yards. We spent about 3 hours outside, eating, drinking, chatting. It was such a wonderful way to enjoy lunch, to enjoy the weather.
Dinner-time grilling was a family affair. Grandma and Auntie Grandma hadn't had enough Grayson time for the weekend, so they invited us over for grilled salmon. Even though we ate indoors, the windows were open, and nature was close to us. The evening breeze and great food made me drowsy. After dinner, we took turns holding Grayson and watching him play.
In between, I even managed to get some yard work done. I think I've staved off any city fines for at least another week.
There is rain in the forecast for the next few days. If we are lucky, we will get another beautiful day like this at least 5 more times this year... here's hoping they all fall on the weekends.
My response to that question is today. We have 6 beautiful days a year (give or take), and today was one of them. Low to mid 70's, a light breeze, wispy clouds. It's warm in the sun and cool in the shade. I couldn't even feel the sunburn I was getting. We grilled twice.
Lunch-time grilling was a neighborhood affair. There is a couple who lives a few doors down; they have two young boys, and we've always been pretty friendly. Today was the first day that we've hung out for an extended period of time though. We each pulled our grills down the driveways near the street, cooked chicken, shrimp and hot dogs, and we ate in our front yards. We spent about 3 hours outside, eating, drinking, chatting. It was such a wonderful way to enjoy lunch, to enjoy the weather.
Dinner-time grilling was a family affair. Grandma and Auntie Grandma hadn't had enough Grayson time for the weekend, so they invited us over for grilled salmon. Even though we ate indoors, the windows were open, and nature was close to us. The evening breeze and great food made me drowsy. After dinner, we took turns holding Grayson and watching him play.
In between, I even managed to get some yard work done. I think I've staved off any city fines for at least another week.
There is rain in the forecast for the next few days. If we are lucky, we will get another beautiful day like this at least 5 more times this year... here's hoping they all fall on the weekends.
6.01.2013
Goose Eggs
So today has been a great day. I am still not feeling 100%, but I'm managing with medicine. I got the lawn mowed today, and the family room vacuumed. Went out to dinner with the whole family.
Everything was going splendidly, although I was starting to fade a bit. Grayson was hamming it up. He was actually playing peek-a-boo with his blanket.
But then he started crawling toward a side table. His arm slipped, and his head came crashing into one of the table legs. It didn't seem like anything too horrible... until we looked closer at his eyebrow.
Grayson got his first goose egg. There is a raised, red, swollen bump over his left eye. This isn't his last bump or bruise. I hope they get easier to deal with as he gets older.
Everything was going splendidly, although I was starting to fade a bit. Grayson was hamming it up. He was actually playing peek-a-boo with his blanket.
But then he started crawling toward a side table. His arm slipped, and his head came crashing into one of the table legs. It didn't seem like anything too horrible... until we looked closer at his eyebrow.
Grayson got his first goose egg. There is a raised, red, swollen bump over his left eye. This isn't his last bump or bruise. I hope they get easier to deal with as he gets older.
Oops
So I manage to make it three while weeks without missing a day, but that streak is dead. Sorry folks.
I could blame it on being sick; that was part of it probably. I can't blame it on being busy. Even though my night was full, my day was wide open. I could blame it on having family in town, distracting me. But that would be sad. Any excuse would be sad.
I'm to blame. I had multiple opportunities to write yesterday, multiple moments when I chose to not write.
Sorry about that.
You'll get another entry tonight
I could blame it on being sick; that was part of it probably. I can't blame it on being busy. Even though my night was full, my day was wide open. I could blame it on having family in town, distracting me. But that would be sad. Any excuse would be sad.
I'm to blame. I had multiple opportunities to write yesterday, multiple moments when I chose to not write.
Sorry about that.
You'll get another entry tonight
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