A Little Chaos

Summertime

Long time gone

For the record, 10 days is my upper limit of surviving without seeing my family, even if the last 5 is spent in Hawaii. I'm on my fifth flight, with one more to go to get me home tonight, and it can't go by fast enough.

Hawaii was every bit as perfect as i'd hoped for. Sean and Carrie have rented the second floor of a nice little house about 5 minutes from akaka falls, and 10 minutes outside of Hilo. They've been there since January, and are heading back to Vancouver in a few weeks, so this was my last shot, and Traci, as usual, made sure I didn't miss it. 

The Big Island, it seems, is home to a fair chunk of the world's freaks and hippies, and most have congregated in this corner. We saw some real characters. But I also felt like we got to see much of what just living here is like, versus the resorts and the tourist spots. We did do a great tour of the volcano and a sunset watching lava hit the ocean, which even from very far away is spectacular. As the dark decends the night sky gives a pretty good show on its own with a carpet of stars unlike any i've ever seen. We made our way back from the ocean across a lava field using flashlights against the dark, and to our back the glow lit the ocean, overhead the stars were countless and the hills decending to the sea were alight with fire from the lava. I use 'breathtaking' but there aren't words quite up to the task. You just pause, fight the lump in your throat at the beauty of it all, and try to burn it into your brain.

We visited a bunch of beaches, from rocky to black sand to white, with water that ranged from jade, with sea turtles swimming about, to fairly violent and intimidating. And a drive around the island took us through pouring rain to bright sun, and temperatures that swayed by 30 degrees. And we ate incredible food every meal. 

So back to reality, and not a moment too soon. At the end of this day is my own bed, my boys and my wife. I think that qualifies as a soft landing. 

Hawaii-seattle

We were at Riley's last baseball game of the year on Sunday. A rain delay kept us under a tree for about 20 minutes, while Kylen complained about just about everything, including the fact that I wouldn't race him around the entire field in the downpour. This from the kid that hates rain. But he did make the loop about 10 times (which resulted in a dead-collapse in bed a few hours later, egged on by an overdose of ice cream). Each time he went, he asked me to time him, which i did by holding up my cell phone and saying 'GO!', then choosing some random amount of time it took him. This amazed him to no end. As his times got faster, he kept asking me to slow down the clock so he could go even more quickly. "Dad, this time, make the clock go really really really REALLY slow."

Kid, I hear ya. 

July is here in one more day. We have about 80 days until our September beach trip, and I shudder at how quickly it will be here. Still, we're doing everything in our power to get the most out of this season. We've already done Kennywood, smores, a rocket launch, a cookout, a trip to Coopers Rock in WV, and lots and lots of baseball. On top of that Riley got a week in Chicago with Grandma and Grandpa and had a fantastic time seeing the city, the children's museum and most importantly, the pool. We took that opportunity to send Kylen to Mema and Bop's for the week and he got a second trip to Kennywood and more donuts than most humans can eat. Traci and I went for four days to Scottsdale, baked by a pool and ate ourselves silly. I climbed Camelback at 7am (when it was only 85 degrees) and learned that it's exactly as humiliating as you'd imagine to be passed by 70-year-old ladies, kids and even the random dog. 

As I type I'm at the dealer getting a hitch put on the car so we can finally get the sailboat back out again. I can't wait. And Traci and Natalie are off to scout an event next week in Turks and Caicos, and I get to see my best friend in Hawaii for a few days after my next trip to Seattle. 

Best summer ever. It will be gone too fast, but for once, I feel like we're grabbing it by the horns and not letting go. 

Quick shots of The Thunderbolt, Phantom and finally, our ride on the Jack Rabbit...the coolest coaster ever made (1921). It has a double dip on its biggest drop that still scares the bejesus out of me. Ri was laughing like a fool AFTER the ride. Kylen simply said "that was SCARY". But to be truthful, he wore this look on every ride, including the Turtle.

I think i'm more excited about this than Riley, who's very sad to say goodbye to his teacher, Miss Flaherty, who's done an amazing job with him this year. And it goes without saying that I can't even picture him in 3rd grade. But more than that, the thought of Kylen standing in a school uniform, waiting for his first bus is beyond my comprehension.

I know it's trite, but where the hell did the time go? 

Unfortunately the end of the school year for Ri puts me in mind of all of my own last days of school, and it's transferred to my attitude toward work. I'd much rather be in the yard doing anything (short of weeding). I even enjoyed (to the extent a sane person can) spreading the 20 yards of dirt along the driveway in the nice weather. I came home yesterday and enjoyed a cup of coffee on the deck and just relaxed for a bit. I'm determined not to waste a minute of this summer.

Speaking of coffee, we win the persistence award for not giving up on our espresso machine. It seized up because--and get this--you have to clean these things from time to time. It says so right in the instructions. No, really. Something called descaling, which is almost enough to make me never drink coffee to start with. Apparently 4 years is too long to go without doing this. After 3 calls w/ the good folks at starbucks--who, ironically, can't make coffee as well as we can with our machine--a jumbo screwdriver, lemon juice, and most of the other tools in my toolbox, i was able to disassemble the innards enough to clean it all out. This process took two weeks, a shocking amount of swearing, and one never-to-be-spoken-of-again round with a hammer. But that little bugger is tough, and in the end all it cost us was $10 for a new part and the satisfaction (and relief) of keeping an old friend alive and $400 in our bank account. I'm enjoying my first cup right now. Unfortunately the water comes out very fast (which i suspect is what it's supposed to do) and i'd adjusted my mix for the anemic flow we were getting. I'll have to readjust. 

And there you have it. Ramblings on the first day of summer, waiting for Riley to come home from his half-day wrap up. Kylen at my side, begging to play on the Wii before the 10am start time. And a rained out trip to Kennywood. We may see Up instead. 

Off to cram in some work. Sigh. 

A few pictures of the first smores of the season:

I sat down at bedtime to read a book with Kylen a few nights ago. We haven't done as much of that lately, and need to pick it back up. We get lazy, and bedtime is just easier without it, but they both like it even if I occasionally feel they only care about it to stave off bedtime for a few extra minutes. 

This time I picked up Hop on Pop from downstairs. Ky had never read it. At 5 1/2 he's way behind where Riley was at this age, his speech still a tangled web of dropped Ls and Elmer Fudd Rs. I've been pushing him to speak better, and he can do it, but again, laziness on both our parts. As for reading and counting, we've lowered our expectations for him, or at least I have, and rely too much on a very good daycare program and the coming of Kindergarten. So imagine my surprise when I reached page 15 or so and said, 'you read it.' 

"Pat. Sat." After the long pause that followed he looked up at me, eyebrows arched.

I gathered my jaw up from it's resting place on my lap and called Traci in. 

And away he went. Sounding out words, getting self-conscious and giving up, then trying again, fumbling here and there but connecting all the dots. All, add a T, equals Tall. Bed, drop the B or add an R and you get Ed and Red. I couldn't stop hugging him. 

It's a pretty stiff reminder that expectations are a big part of success. The rough road for Kylen is that they've been taken up a notch, closer to where they should have been anyway, and it's time to discover that R, L and TH he's hidden away somewhere in his synapses. 

We may put that surfer dude future in jeopardy after all. 

This is a great presentation about how we make, use and dispose of all the stuff in our lives. I'm certainly her target audience. Well worth the 20 minutes to watch. 

Last minute decision...Traci is out of town so I took the boys to the Pirates/Reds game. Not a great day for the Pirates but we had a good time and stayed for the whole game. Ate ourselves silly along the way. 

Riley had his first baseball game of the season today, round about the time I was on a plane to Cincinnati. At some point during the season I’ll have a moment when I’ll wish there were fewer games, or at least not in the morning, or some such useless thought that offends the gods of summer as well it should. Today I simply ached inside as he recounted on the phone about his very first double, hit over the head of the second baseman.

Riley’s not the smallest on the team this year, but only because it’s a three-way tie. Some of his teammates can catch a decent line drive and make a throw from third to first. Riley can get it about halfway from second to first, his little hands working to grasp a too-big ball. And a power hit for him reaches the pitcher (the coach) before bouncing. I feared a summer of outs at first for a lefty hitter who consistently puts it between first and second.

But what he lacks in strength he makes up for with a laser eye paired to great timing. That kid can hit. Every time. 

So to hear that he launched one, well, I did a little dance in the Cincinnati airport, and fully felt the joy of the Proud Dad. Seeing him reach first safely is a triumph. Missing him crack a double. Well, just give me a moment and I’ll be fine…sure I will. I’m amazed every day to see what he can do, speechless at what he knows, and scared to death at how smart he is.

And he still holds my hand everywhere we go.

I look at Kylen and see this independent little guy, limp-fishing my hand if forced to hold it to cross a parking lot. With Ky I steal my moments, like when I plunk down to watch some Bugs Bunny with the boys and he hops on the couch and lays across my lap and lets me rub his back. He doesn’t give many of those, too filled with the joy of his task at hand.

Maybe it’s the second kid syndrome…I just feel like he’ll make his way. He’s comfortable with himself. He doesn’t try to gather eyeballs to his every move like some kids. He’s stubborn as hell, and ready to drive himself, dammit, if I won’t take him. He, too, is a remarkable child.

I wonder at times how to foster “it” in each of them…to help them find their passion and joy. I watch out the corner of my eye as I explore something with them that interests me. I called Riley upstairs to help me solder wires for my car stereo. I showed him the soldering gun and let him hold the solder to help. As it melted I gave him a “huh? HUH? Cool, right?!” and watched his fleeting little spark of interest. Check it off the list and move on.

I can’t find it for either of them, I know. So I just throw a bunch of stuff at the wall to see if anything sticks. But that’s ok too.

It’s only at 35,000 feet that I manage to process all of it. What a gift those kids are. They shine a light on not just what’s important in life, but what’s important to me. I don’t do this naturally. I’m not an avid anything in truth. I’m pretty fascinated by everything I suppose. And maybe that’s good enough.

Hell, it will have to be, won’t it?

 

There is something deeply satisfying about watching a cartoon that you've seen a hundred times--and still 30-some years later know by heart--with two boys who look to you at every pratfall with raised-eyebrow wide-eyed glee. The belly laughs at the same thing I laughed at. The probing questions about why certain things happen that can only happen in cartoons. 

I like me some spongebob, but for my money, it will never get better than Merrie Melodies.

And like that, June is gone

We were at Riley's last baseball game of the year on Sunday. A rain delay kept us under a tree for about 20 minutes, while Kylen complained about just about everything, including the fact that I wouldn't race him around the entire field in the downpour. This from the kid that hates rain. But he did make the loop about 10 times (which resulted in a dead-collapse in bed a few hours later, egged on by an overdose of ice cream). Each time he went, he asked me to time him, which i did by holding up my cell phone and saying 'GO!', then choosing some random amount of time it took him. This amazed him to no end. As his times got faster, he kept asking me to slow down the clock so he could go even more quickly. "Dad, this time, make the clock go really really really REALLY slow."

Kid, I hear ya. 

July is here in one more day. We have about 80 days until our September beach trip, and I shudder at how quickly it will be here. Still, we're doing everything in our power to get the most out of this season. We've already done Kennywood, smores, a rocket launch, a cookout, a trip to Coopers Rock in WV, and lots and lots of baseball. On top of that Riley got a week in Chicago with Grandma and Grandpa and had a fantastic time seeing the city, the children's museum and most importantly, the pool. We took that opportunity to send Kylen to Mema and Bop's for the week and he got a second trip to Kennywood and more donuts than most humans can eat. Traci and I went for four days to Scottsdale, baked by a pool and ate ourselves silly. I climbed Camelback at 7am (when it was only 85 degrees) and learned that it's exactly as humiliating as you'd imagine to be passed by 70-year-old ladies, kids and even the random dog. 

As I type I'm at the dealer getting a hitch put on the car so we can finally get the sailboat back out again. I can't wait. And Traci and Natalie are off to scout an event next week in Turks and Caicos, and I get to see my best friend in Hawaii for a few days after my next trip to Seattle. 

Best summer ever. It will be gone too fast, but for once, I feel like we're grabbing it by the horns and not letting go. 

Pure Joy and Abject Terror

Quick shots of The Thunderbolt, Phantom and finally, our ride on the Jack Rabbit...the coolest coaster ever made (1921). It has a double dip on its biggest drop that still scares the bejesus out of me. Ri was laughing like a fool AFTER the ride. Kylen simply said "that was SCARY". But to be truthful, he wore this look on every ride, including the Turtle.

Last day of school....bring on da summer!

I think i'm more excited about this than Riley, who's very sad to say goodbye to his teacher, Miss Flaherty, who's done an amazing job with him this year. And it goes without saying that I can't even picture him in 3rd grade. But more than that, the thought of Kylen standing in a school uniform, waiting for his first bus is beyond my comprehension.

I know it's trite, but where the hell did the time go? 

Unfortunately the end of the school year for Ri puts me in mind of all of my own last days of school, and it's transferred to my attitude toward work. I'd much rather be in the yard doing anything (short of weeding). I even enjoyed (to the extent a sane person can) spreading the 20 yards of dirt along the driveway in the nice weather. I came home yesterday and enjoyed a cup of coffee on the deck and just relaxed for a bit. I'm determined not to waste a minute of this summer.

Speaking of coffee, we win the persistence award for not giving up on our espresso machine. It seized up because--and get this--you have to clean these things from time to time. It says so right in the instructions. No, really. Something called descaling, which is almost enough to make me never drink coffee to start with. Apparently 4 years is too long to go without doing this. After 3 calls w/ the good folks at starbucks--who, ironically, can't make coffee as well as we can with our machine--a jumbo screwdriver, lemon juice, and most of the other tools in my toolbox, i was able to disassemble the innards enough to clean it all out. This process took two weeks, a shocking amount of swearing, and one never-to-be-spoken-of-again round with a hammer. But that little bugger is tough, and in the end all it cost us was $10 for a new part and the satisfaction (and relief) of keeping an old friend alive and $400 in our bank account. I'm enjoying my first cup right now. Unfortunately the water comes out very fast (which i suspect is what it's supposed to do) and i'd adjusted my mix for the anemic flow we were getting. I'll have to readjust. 

And there you have it. Ramblings on the first day of summer, waiting for Riley to come home from his half-day wrap up. Kylen at my side, begging to play on the Wii before the 10am start time. And a rained out trip to Kennywood. We may see Up instead. 

Off to cram in some work. Sigh. 

A few pictures of the first smores of the season:

Hop on Pop, Dad Glad

I sat down at bedtime to read a book with Kylen a few nights ago. We haven't done as much of that lately, and need to pick it back up. We get lazy, and bedtime is just easier without it, but they both like it even if I occasionally feel they only care about it to stave off bedtime for a few extra minutes. 

This time I picked up Hop on Pop from downstairs. Ky had never read it. At 5 1/2 he's way behind where Riley was at this age, his speech still a tangled web of dropped Ls and Elmer Fudd Rs. I've been pushing him to speak better, and he can do it, but again, laziness on both our parts. As for reading and counting, we've lowered our expectations for him, or at least I have, and rely too much on a very good daycare program and the coming of Kindergarten. So imagine my surprise when I reached page 15 or so and said, 'you read it.' 

"Pat. Sat." After the long pause that followed he looked up at me, eyebrows arched.

I gathered my jaw up from it's resting place on my lap and called Traci in. 

And away he went. Sounding out words, getting self-conscious and giving up, then trying again, fumbling here and there but connecting all the dots. All, add a T, equals Tall. Bed, drop the B or add an R and you get Ed and Red. I couldn't stop hugging him. 

It's a pretty stiff reminder that expectations are a big part of success. The rough road for Kylen is that they've been taken up a notch, closer to where they should have been anyway, and it's time to discover that R, L and TH he's hidden away somewhere in his synapses. 

We may put that surfer dude future in jeopardy after all. 

The Story of Stuff

This is a great presentation about how we make, use and dispose of all the stuff in our lives. I'm certainly her target audience. Well worth the 20 minutes to watch. 

Perfect day for a ballgame

Last minute decision...Traci is out of town so I took the boys to the Pirates/Reds game. Not a great day for the Pirates but we had a good time and stayed for the whole game. Ate ourselves silly along the way. 

Thoughts at 35,000 feet

Riley had his first baseball game of the season today, round about the time I was on a plane to Cincinnati. At some point during the season I’ll have a moment when I’ll wish there were fewer games, or at least not in the morning, or some such useless thought that offends the gods of summer as well it should. Today I simply ached inside as he recounted on the phone about his very first double, hit over the head of the second baseman.

Riley’s not the smallest on the team this year, but only because it’s a three-way tie. Some of his teammates can catch a decent line drive and make a throw from third to first. Riley can get it about halfway from second to first, his little hands working to grasp a too-big ball. And a power hit for him reaches the pitcher (the coach) before bouncing. I feared a summer of outs at first for a lefty hitter who consistently puts it between first and second.

But what he lacks in strength he makes up for with a laser eye paired to great timing. That kid can hit. Every time. 

So to hear that he launched one, well, I did a little dance in the Cincinnati airport, and fully felt the joy of the Proud Dad. Seeing him reach first safely is a triumph. Missing him crack a double. Well, just give me a moment and I’ll be fine…sure I will. I’m amazed every day to see what he can do, speechless at what he knows, and scared to death at how smart he is.

And he still holds my hand everywhere we go.

I look at Kylen and see this independent little guy, limp-fishing my hand if forced to hold it to cross a parking lot. With Ky I steal my moments, like when I plunk down to watch some Bugs Bunny with the boys and he hops on the couch and lays across my lap and lets me rub his back. He doesn’t give many of those, too filled with the joy of his task at hand.

Maybe it’s the second kid syndrome…I just feel like he’ll make his way. He’s comfortable with himself. He doesn’t try to gather eyeballs to his every move like some kids. He’s stubborn as hell, and ready to drive himself, dammit, if I won’t take him. He, too, is a remarkable child.

I wonder at times how to foster “it” in each of them…to help them find their passion and joy. I watch out the corner of my eye as I explore something with them that interests me. I called Riley upstairs to help me solder wires for my car stereo. I showed him the soldering gun and let him hold the solder to help. As it melted I gave him a “huh? HUH? Cool, right?!” and watched his fleeting little spark of interest. Check it off the list and move on.

I can’t find it for either of them, I know. So I just throw a bunch of stuff at the wall to see if anything sticks. But that’s ok too.

It’s only at 35,000 feet that I manage to process all of it. What a gift those kids are. They shine a light on not just what’s important in life, but what’s important to me. I don’t do this naturally. I’m not an avid anything in truth. I’m pretty fascinated by everything I suppose. And maybe that’s good enough.

Hell, it will have to be, won’t it?

 

Bugs Bunny

There is something deeply satisfying about watching a cartoon that you've seen a hundred times--and still 30-some years later know by heart--with two boys who look to you at every pratfall with raised-eyebrow wide-eyed glee. The belly laughs at the same thing I laughed at. The probing questions about why certain things happen that can only happen in cartoons. 

I like me some spongebob, but for my money, it will never get better than Merrie Melodies.