I'm not a 'manny'

Backyard golf

2009-11-08T16:22:00.002-05:00

Super Birthday Party

2009-08-03T18:17:00.002-04:00

We attended a birthday party for one of our friend's daughter yesterday and it was a superhero theme, check out the matching shirts! There was a pinata for destroying, which had Baxter worried. He has little faith in his fellow preschoolers stick swinging abilities, which I don't buy, but anyway. So he whispers to me, "Dad, maybe you can take a turn, 'cause you're the shortest one here."

"What do you mean? You think no one will notice?"

"Well......yeah." (notice the backpedaling)

I took it in stride, I'm sure its the 1st of many short references I'll get from my own kids.

Happy 4th!

2009-07-15T13:33:00.001-04:00

Daddy's back!

2009-06-15T09:07:00.005-04:00

Checking out the ol blogger account and found some easy tools for posting, like email or my cell. So I'm gonna attempt to crank it back up, if only because I got some new material from the kids that I need to log before losing.

YAM

2009-06-15T08:54:00.001-04:00

Remembrance

2008-12-23T07:31:00.000-05:00

This time of the year always makes people remember those who aren't around any more and I'm no different. My dad died 28 years ago on December 12, one day after his 30th birthday. I was only 6 1/2 years old but my favorite trait is a good memory and I remember that day and related funeral and wake events quite well and I treasure these memories greatly. My brother was 4 and sister 2, so they really have no recollections beyond what I can share with them from my own. It's the memories that I think help sustain us when a loved one is gone, helps nurture us back to happy times when we think it isn't possible. Memories have a magical ability to change over time and it never gets old to revisit them. Now, with 3 children of mine all under the age of 5, I can't help but note that they might not remember me or Jennie if we were to die early. I've never thought about it before and it seems far fetched considering that we are the constant and dominant figures in their lives.

Anyway, back to memories. One appropriate for the season happened when I was 4 or 5 years old. My dad had just walked in the door from the barn and I told him proudly, "Dad, I just wrapped your socks but you can't have them until Christmas!" I also remember being towed in a loud, red wagon down the road by my dad on several occasions. It didn't occur to me then but I now have 2 questions: Did he not feel like he was getting enough exercise working full time on a farm? And, is that where I got my ability and desire to run?

We now have another opportunity to test our abilities to grieve. My wife's great uncle Arthur Neuhauser passed away this past Sunday at the age of 90. He was an amazing figure to us and we were very close. Since our move to Vermont 8 +years ago, he made the 60 minute flight up from New Jersey 5 or 6 times in the summer for an annual visit to the North Country, all which feeds my memory bank with some real solid material. Like the time he was served a 2nd bloody mary for dinner because he didn't hear the waitress ask him if he wanted another (he just nodded his head and boom, more liquor!). Ever the jester, he told her that it was good thing he wasn't driving home (he couldn't see very well and hadn't driven in years). He's the only person I know who made a new friend after dialing the wrong number. Even better was that the wrong number turned out to be a funeral home. He was trying to call Jennie's parents and got the funeral home in Malone instead. He had such a good conversation with "funeral home Mike" that he spoke with him at least one more time and this time, he didn't call him by accident. This is just one illustration of his belief or unwritten philosophy that people are interesting and by golly, I'm going to get to know as many of them as I can. During one of his visits to Vermont, he had such a good conversation with Tom, a good friend of ours that Tom now has his own Arthur memories

More recently, Baxter barged in on him in the bathroom while he was doing some "business". He didn't scold or ask him to leave, he promptly launched into a story, as was his custom, all while sitting on the commode. The stories were legendary and covered most of the last century. Mostly, I'll remember the conversations during our drives to the Lake or sitting on our porch. The past few visits, we entertained each other with the wonders of Wikipedia. He would recall a particular event from his youth and I would get the details from wiki to test his accuracy, which more often than not was spot on.

We are sad but not in a tragic way. He lived an amazingly full life, was loved by many and was not afraid to shower us with affection, which was not common by men of his generation. I only got to know him and develop a relationship over the past 15 years of his life, so I can only imagine the pain his own family feels. He wasn't my uncle but was something better: he was my good friend and I will miss him.

So during this season and whenever you need to, remember the good times and those we miss will be with us always.

Santa!

2008-12-21T21:18:00.000-05:00

We hosted out annual Santa party last weekend and had a blast doing it. Yes, we did this while nurturing a 9 day old baby and yes, we are a little crazy. Way back in October, I questioned my wife whether it would be prudent to throw this party while taking care of a 3-4 week old baby (original due date was 11/22). I was met with a sharp rebuke and the party planning was on. Truth be told, we had plenty of help from my in-laws before the party and plenty from my mom & brother after, along with a dish from each guests made it sorta easy in the end.
The party itself was a blast and I can easily say it's become my highlight of the season. Santa and the Mrs are topnotch, even with his bum leg(more on that later) this year, the kids light up and parents are tickled to just watch it unfold. Our house isn't very big and the roof seems at the precipice of lifting off the rafters due to the shear mass of human flesh, but it's all worth it.
Back to Santa: we got a call from Mrs. Claus the day before to let us know they were coming but to avoid sitting on his left leg. Apparently, he was wrestling with Rudolph and got kicked in the leg (or had a muscle biopsy, the details are hazy). Some of the older children were gathering pitchforks and forming lynch mobs for Rudolph at the sound of this story. We were able to pacify them with more sugar cookies.

catching up

2008-12-21T21:07:00.001-05:00

OK, I've got loads of stuff and I always feel a little neglectful after shunning the Manny for longer than 3 weeks.

So we had a baby, about 18 days ago. Emmett Mathew was 9lbs, 5oz and 21 1/2 inches long, which means dad is in big trouble. The Poiriers are not big people. My favorite related quote came from a cousin, "I'm five foot nothing and look like a chia pet with my shirt off. I don't know how I landed my wife." So when Mr. Em came out at that size, I wondered how long it would be before I was the smallest in the family (again).
He's a great baby, the benefit of being largish is that he seems mucho happier than his sister ever was at an age that you still count in days, not weeks. Paigey was 6 1/2 lbs and was a miserable little thing until about 6 months. So to sum it up, we're doing great. In fact, it's the older chitlins who are running us ragged.
We're enjoying the winter so far, lots of fireplace time with christmas movies, kettle corn and red wine. Hope your own home fires are burning brightly.

Poirier/Lowell, Party of Five

2008-12-09T10:16:00.001-05:00

Tick, tock, tick , tock

2008-11-22T07:22:00.000-05:00

Ok Baby, just come on out, we're waiting.................................not yet? You sure? Ok, while we're killing time on your DUE DATE, let's brush up on your soon-to-be siblings.

Baxter, age 4, big brother, known nicknames-Bax, B, Baxie(not fond of that one, save it for a squabble)
Baxter 1st entered the scene just over 4 years ago and he's an accomplished speaker for his age. You would do well to pay attention and pick up the English language from your brother. He's also quite good with identifying scent and has been known to sniff out cookie breath (caught me onetime when I was putting him to bed) along with the occasional potty smell. He and your Momma were visiting the local science center this past week and while using the bathroom, had the following exchange:
"Wow, that smells like poop Momma!"
Momma replied, "Well, this is a public restroom and people pee and poop here" (obvious company in the neighboring stall, keeping quiet while they do the business)
"Nah, it's really bad Momma, it smells like dog poop." (quick shuffle to get out before this gets any worse)

Paige, age 2 1/2, "big" sister (she's quite small), known nicknames-Paigey, Paigerino
Don't mistake her slightness for being a pushover, she's feisty and has a little entitlement complex that we're working to overturn before it's too late. For example, she routinely thinks I'm a servant (hmm.......maybe she's on to something there). One morning not so long ago, she needed a diaper change in a bad way. I was making breakfast and busy but with Jennie already quite pregnant, I offered to take care of it. Paige responded, "No, momma change me. You make my breakfast."
Paige is also quite adept at smelling, as you could learn from earlier posts. So it's in your best interest to potty train as soon as possible, because you won't have any where to hide from these two nose detectives.

Come on baby, I don't think I can keep it clean much longer!

2008-11-18T08:30:00.000-05:00

We are rapidly approaching family of five status. We've reached the point where uttering the sentence, "By this time next week, we'll have an infant home with us", is almost sure to come true. I think we're ready, I've been nesting my tail off this past week readying the house for another mouth to feed (although in our nursing-friendly family, another bum to wipe is more the case). And in true Poirier-Lowell form, we've already made it necessary to clean the bassinet. You see, we're not clean people. I mean, we shower regularly, generally have laundered clothes, etc....but our home is often in an untidy state. For some reason, the "disease" as I call it escaped my genetic makeup, unlike my brother and sister. It's not uncommon for Jeremy to grab a vacuum while visiting someone's house and give it a go over the carpets, just for fun. This is especially true if it's one of those fun Dyson models that lets you view the swirling, twirling dust bunnies through the clear dirt collector. I swear, one of these years I'm going to sprinkle sand over the wood floors and invite him over for Christmas or his birthday. Danielle is just as bad, if not worse. She lived with us for 18 months while getting her degree and it was the cleanest living we ever experienced. When she moved out, it took me a week to not only find the vacuum but to also figure out what it was and how it worked. Just the other night, she got the kids ready for bed, which included a bath. After she left and the kids were in bed, I walked into the bathroom to finding a sparkling counter and sink. It's like a super power, she can bath the kids, entertain them AND scrub the bathroom at the same time. The Jennie/Derek comparison story-Once we found actual mushrooms growing in the crevice of carpet and bathtub in an apartment we were renting.
The bassinet story-It was returned to us last night by one of Jennie's co-workers, as we'll need it very soon. This co-worker took it apart and cleaned it prior to returning, very thoughtful but probably a bad idea for our house. Within an hour, the kids having just left the dinner table (one of them with a chocolate milk sippy cup) proceeded to climb into it and soil the crib sheet with a nice little splash of said chocolate milk. Luckily, I'm still in nesting mode and immediately brought it to the laundry room for a dose of Shout. If I could only find a way to bottle this nesting hormone for occasional emergency use....

"They grow up so fast" -revisted

2008-09-18T07:49:00.001-04:00

Years ago, (like 2-3), after encountering the umpteenth old lady who felt required to point out to me with my new baby(and then babies) that "they grow up so fast" (TGUSF), I muttered under my breath, "Really?!?". You see, at this point, I was most likely sleep deprived and struggling with the demands of new parenthood, like dirty bathrooms, messy house, running out of diapers, all the onesies are dirty, etc...I can clearly remember thinking, "Oh I don't know about that, it appears they will be using diapers, not sleeping past 5:30am and draining all the life energy from me for the next 20 years or so."
I firmly believed that it was in hindsight and hindsight only that one could look at their grown children and wonder in amazement, just where did all the time go?!? Now, almost 4 years to the day have gone by since we brought Baxter into the world and I think my time for TGUSF is almost here.
Baxter turns 4 tomorrow and he's jacked about it. A few weeks ago, he and his mother picked out his Spider Man cake pan and last night made the 1st of many (2? 3?) that will be baked this week. Today is the neighborhood playgroup gathering for all the new friends that we made once Baxter entered our lives. The neighborhood that we live in and all the wonderful people that we've grown closely to over the past 4 years are largely the result of Baxter's existence. Jennie's large belly announced to some neighbors what we were getting into and introduced us to other like-minded people and the rest is history.
Getting back the theme of this post---4 very short years ago, Baxter was gearing up for his race down the birth canal, becoming nothing but a wet blob of crying flesh who needed us for everything. Now, we've got a talking, negotiating opinionated human being. Just this past week, we were shocked with a glimpse of our future.

We have a family eating rule that you must try everything on your plate, which has worked out well for the adults too (Jennie, you know who you are). Last week, after being refreshed on the rule, Baxter said, "You know Dada, other kids don't have that rule."
"Well, this is our rule and we all will follow it."
"Well, when I have 'childs', I won't make them use that rule."
I remember thinking, "this isn't fair! I didn't think we would have to use the "in our house" statement for at least another 6-7 years?!?!" Maybe those old ladies were on to something....

After a brief but effective example by Jen, who pointed out the horrors of not knowing what food taste like without trying it, like the all-time fav cous-cous, Baxter was willing to buy into the food doctrine for at least another meal. I won't fool myself into think it'll always be this easy, but we'll take it today. Parents 1, Kids 0

Stormy Weather, cloudy brains

2008-09-15T22:01:00.000-04:00

I opened the paper this past weekend to read about the unnecessary rescue operations under way in Houston and parts of Louisiana due to Hurricane Ike. I say unnecessary because for the past week, my friend and yours Jim Cantore from The Weather Channel, along with all his weather geek buddies and state officials from Texas have been begging people to take precaution and leave for safety prior to the hurricane reaching land with it's 100 mph winds, 20 ft walls of ocean water, etc.. And yet, rescue personal, many of whom maybe volunteering their time, are literally risking life and limb to bring several thousands of people to safety. One gem of a human being after being rescued stated,
"I would have stayed but the snakes were bothering me. I was willing to ride it out, with the man upstairs to protect me."

Whereas I ask, what if the man in question (presumed to be God) was up there wringing his hands in frustration over these people, who I feel required to point out again WERE RISKING THE LIVES OF THE RESCUE PERSONEL! So I picture God, stomping around in the clouds in his birkenstocks, muttering to himself,"I gave you brains, the ability to learn and discover, The Weather Channel and Doppler 2000 so that you could see these storms coming and run for the hills. But you decide to hunker down with a case of bottled water, nachoes and your poodle named Princess!

Jennie were discussing how we would react. We have some ambitious plans for renovations on our home someday and we decided we would go the opposite route. Open the windows and doors (no plywood or sandbags for us), hop in the minivan and take another road trip and pray for total destruction and fresh start for that master bedroom suite. Maybe head back down to NYC for more cupcakes!

Best wishes for the Texans rebuilding who were wise enough to leave.

Eastern View Open House

2008-09-09T08:39:00.000-04:00

After several years of stressful discussions, planning sessions and negotiations, our commercial building opened its doors for an open house a few weeks ago. It was a booming success, lots of people mingling through the hallways, talking to the practitioners, enjoying the food,music and face painting.

Jennie was the MC for the event and she introduced the health care providers and their individual practices to the attendees. She also introduced the keynote speaker, Joe Semmes, the director of a similar operation from Maine and the uncle of one of our partners. During her speech, Baxter walked up to her to get a few words in himself.
"Um, excuse me Momma." (laughter ensues)
Jennie whispering, "Yes Baxter?"
"I want to speak when you are done, ok?"
Apparently my face went to an extreme shade of red. Before you think I was embarrassed, I want to stress that this reaction was due to the potential words to come from him when it was his term on dais.

Jennie finished up by welcoming the keynote speaker to the stage. Dr Semmes, being a bit of a character himself, pointed out that Baxter was to get a turn 1st. Jennie bent down to Baxter with the microphone and he implored the audience to "eat lots of cake!" Which is great advice for the audience when your cake is 3 feet by 1 1/2 feet in size!

Much thanks to Suzanne and her mad cake skills. Check out http://iheartfrosting.blogspot.com/

It wouldn't be a party without cake!

Mr Baxter goes to school

2008-09-09T07:59:00.000-04:00

Baxter started at his preschool last week and is already comfortable with exerting his persuasion. He's going to The Children's Schoo l, a cooperative preschool that is a short 1 mile walk from our home, very significant in this $4/gal gas world we now live in. The cooperative school idea is similar to the "takes a village" approach to education. The parents have a responsibility of contributing time and ideas to make the place run efficiently and optimally. Seeing that Jennie has delivered at least 2 of the student body with a few more siblings on the way for future years, perhaps our contribution is complete. Well......not quite. I'm chairing the marketing/enrollment committee and one of the 1st perks of this gig is that I got to show the school in action to a prospective student and thus, spied on Baxter during his 1st day. Already, I could see the allure of teaching where your children attend school. I feel comfortable and safe with the staff and school, no question about it, but it was kind of nice being able to watch Baxter interact with his classmates and I took a little pride in seeing him cooperatively play with the other kids. Poor Paigey who can't go until next fall is already completely comfy at the school, as I have to drag her away from the play kitchen every morning and afternoon.

Baxter, being who he is, already is trying to exert some influence over his peers. I picked him up from school yesterday and as we were pulling away from the lot, he said he forgot to get the Beaver from school!! Normally, this kind of statement would seem weird but we got an orientation last week and had advance notice of this subject. The teachers supply the school with a class mascot of sorts, a stuffed animal to be in the classroom and can be signed out for overnight stays with the students.
After confirming that this was indeed a stuffed animal, I asked him if he signed it out for the night.
"Yeah, I think I did."
I pulled back up to the gate and asked the teachers for a ruling and they laughed at his attempt. Apparently, they introduced the Beaver to the class and explained how the sleepover would work but it was not ready yet. They also informed me that Baxter is trying to get the class to name it Baxter the Beaver.
Already, I think it's going to be a fun year.

2008-09-02T13:23:00.000-04:00

Thursday morning we left on our last jaunt before the un-official end of summer. 9am, we were on our way to the wonderful state of New Jersey for Jennie's great-uncle Arthur's 90th birthday party. He's a dear friend of the family and we were all very excited for the trip. Arthur has recently moved into an assisted living home that has been a little hard on him (he refers to it as "his incarceration", to himself as "one of the inmates"). His mind is very sharp but he can't see, hear or walk very well and his family thought it would be best to have more supervision.
About 30 minutes prior to our 1st stop of the day, the kids decided they couldn't wait another second for some lunch, so Jennie maneuvered her very pregnant self through the van to get to our cooler for sandwich fixings. About the only item from our house that we forgot to pack was a knife, so she was forced to improvise with the handle of a plastic fork. The kids have gotten accustomed to having the crust off their sandwiches, even though I swore I would never do this, so it seemed fitting that I had to eat the crust off of 3 sandwiches (remember, no knife in the van). The positive side is that I wasn't hungry after my crust lunch.
We made one pit stop in Schuylerville, NY to drop off Cocoa and Ella at Jeremy, Stephanie and Emma's house, as they were dog sitting for the night. The kids were disappointed to not see Emma, but took it in stride as they played with her toys for 10 minutes before we hit the road again.
Back in the van, an few hours later, Baxter announced that he had to "pee badly". At this point in his potty training days, we don't really want to test his resiliency and thus, hopped off the thruway at the 1st chance. It wasn't a great spot and we needed to pay our toll ticket before finding a gas station. I hurried him, locked the door and sat him on the toilet. After 5 seconds, he said, "Hmmm, I guess I was just kidding." I went myself to make it worth the while.
Dinner was nice, saw most of the Neuhauser clan, including the Kentucky Neuhausers (I just love that name, it sounds like a country band from the 70's. And now, please join me in welcoming to the Grand Ol Opry Stage......the Kentucky Neuhausers!!!!!")

Arthur was not entirely surprised, although I'm sure he was pleased. His daughter broke the news of the gathering to him about a week prior to make sure it would be OK. As he told me later that night, "You surprise a 90 year old man with something like this, it might his last!"
Breakfast the next morning at a Perkins with a smaller gathering and then off to one of the highlights of the trip. A few days before the trip, I was thinking of ways to add value to a 800 mile journey to NJ and came up with a cupcake pit stop in NYC. There's a special place near the village called Magnolia's where they make delectable treats, and famously, cupcakes. These cupcakes, freshly made each day are topped with about 2 pounds of the richest frosting and should probably be considered a WMD with the artery busting butter and shortening that must be in each one. For those who don't know me that well, I'm practical and don't have much of a sweet tooth, so to trek into NYC on a Friday morning for cupcakes was a significant event. That and the fact that we had my parent's GPS unit and I wanted to test how easy it could make navigating the city on a weekday morning. Plus, it was an educational trip for the kids (look to the right, that's the statue of liberty. No time to stop, we've got cupcakes to buy!)
Drove into the Hudson Tunnel, double parked on Bleeker street so Jennie and Baxter could run in for the booty. Magnolia's limits each customer to 1 dozen( the absurdity, only a dozen?!), but Bax rightfully counted as 1 person and got his own dozen.

I ran in for my dozen after they came back, and then back out through the Lincoln Tunnel. Using a towel to keep the sugar sweats from interfering with my driving, we continued on to Star Lake!!

(Baxter waiting patiently for his frosting to be removed so he could eat the cake 'cause it's too sweet. Just like his dad!)
Actually, one more little interesting stop to pick up the dogs. We let them into the backyard to use the dog restroom one last time after arriving at my brother's house and loaded up their stuff. Only Cocoa came in from the backyard however and a search up and down the street commenced for Ella, who is.....shall we say challenged. She gets nervous, vomits almost daily and runs away from all males. After a few minutes, we located her down the street. I tried to get to her, but again, the maleaphobia kicked in and she took off like a 3-legged bat outta hell. Jennie, moving faster than recommended in her condition ran her down and grabbed her, only to recoil in horror. It seems that in the 2 minutes it took us to load the car, Ella vomited, took a rollin it and then embarrassed by her behavior, decided to follow the advice of the littlest hobo and run away. We hosed her down in the side yard after finding some dog shampoo in my my brother and sister-in-law's house. We couldn't find where they keep the dog towel stash though and not wanting to chance their good natured generosity by using good towels, toweled her off with 19 paper towels. Again, keep in mind that she is a special creature. Our next mission was driving as fast as possible so we could deliver her permanently to her mother who was in front of us about 20 miles.
Star Lake was as usual, awesome. Boating, swimming, hiking, camp fires with a neighbor musician providing free music at nights, etc. It was sad to leave knowing that our lake visits were finished for the year. Till next year, when we'll be a family of five and stretching the space limitations of the little cabin even more, bye beautiful little lake!

If this van's a rockin'.........

2008-08-25T21:18:00.001-04:00

As I've mentioned previously, we've had lots of opportunity for road trips in the new minivan this summer and have have fallen into a nice routine of blasting rock n' roll. Either of the kids will at anytime request loud music to "rock out" (their words, not mine). I tell you, I thought the arguments over volume level of music wasn't going to commence until they were at least in middle school. Not so....

"Turn it up dadda, I want it loud!"
"No, it's loud enough"
"But I want to rock out, I can't hear it good!"

Quick side story--A few months ago, we heard some banging footsteps coming from Baxter's room about an hour after bedtime. He has one of those cheap little ipod docking station radios where he listens to soothing music at bedtime, mostly James Taylor. Jennie walked in to find Bax dancing. When asked what was going on, he answered, "Well, I heard "Beat It" on the radio so I had to get up and dance". It turned out that Jennie mistakenly cued up a play list that had Michael Jackson's greatest hits after JT.

Back to the van---Jennie is a fan of Nickelback, perhaps because their style is a bit of a throwback to our heyday in the late 80's with big hair rocker bands. We were traveling down to the farmers market on Saturday morning (nice piece of irony, farmer's markets and hard rock don't usually go together). We had the ipod plugged in, volume turned up to 11 (shameless Spinal Tap plug), and "Rockstar" blasting away. All 4 heads in the van were bobbing, the windows were down and we were stopped at a stop light near UVM, which was receiving the latest batch of freshman students (do they still call them freshman? Seems sexist..). I started to chuckle at what our traffic neighbors must think of us. Either they were questioning our parenting skills and calling SRS on their cells or mocking us ("dude, you are in a minivan!). Yeah, but it's a minivan with a spoiler!

lipstick on a pig (THIS DOES NOT REFER TO MY SON!)

2008-08-25T08:05:00.000-04:00

The kids recently discovered Jennie's make-up bag, which is impressive because Jennie herself rarely finds it. I'm not complaining, in fact I have a rather negative opinion regarding makeup. The title of this post is a favorite saying of mine and is used when a ugly or messy situation is artificially(poorly) remedied with cheap cosmetic changes. I think what you are saying when you wear make-up is that your own natural skin/face can't stand on it's feet without the crutch of clown paint, markers and colored dust. So when Baxter & Paige recently came downstairs with lipstick and eyeliner on, I had two reactions: 1: they're playing and having a good time, thus this is not a problem and 2: Am I being a good dad to let them dabble in something that I find repulsive? They will all too soon face the challenges of looking the part in a world filled with pressure from marketers saying they need to buy something to make them better people. Baxter got into the makeup again yesterday and asked the question, "Do I look pretty?" We played along but I stated that I love the look of their clean skin most of all. Still, it's kinda funny...

Ode to summer's end

2008-08-22T08:25:00.000-04:00

Continuing in the theme of "goodbye summer", we made what was most likely our last trip to the blueberry farm for 2008 last night. We frequent a place called Owls Head Blueberry farm in Richmond, VT, which features musical acts on Tuesdays and Thursdays during the picking season. The kids do a passable job of picking, Baxter on occasion has filled a quart, while Paige only picks enough to fill her belly (and not her basket). Last night, were greeted at the gate with a petition that supports the farms use of integrated pest management. It boils down to this: the birds want the berries and the owners need to stop the birds so they have something for us to pick each year. The local press recently highlighted a dispute between the farm and it's neighbors who are complaining about one device used in the battle against the birds. They use a propane fired cannon, which immediately reminded me Caddyshack and Bill Murray's overhanded attempt to rid the golf course of gophers. Then I quickly learned that cannon only shoots noise, not cannon balls. I read the article over breakfast this week and Baxter was all ears when I mentioned cannon, birds and blueberries. I think he initially thought they were shooting the birds with blueberry cannons. Last night near the petition table was the cannon, all plugged into a propane tank and looking for bird vermin. My opinion of this is in a similiar vein of the "living near the airport" complaint. If you buy a house near a airport (farm), you lose the right to complain when airplane's (normal farming operations) bother you. We live very close to the airport and the F-18's create some unbelievable noise, rendering any activity involving your ears impossible until they leave the zip code. This looks like complaining, which I'm not. As long as I'm not on the phone, I'm amazed at the power these machines generate.
Back to blueberries-the kind owners of the farm provide 2 portapotties for customer use on site. We were on our way past said potties when Paige started a funny little conversation.
"I smell poop!"
"Really? You smell poop?"
"Yeaaahhhh...........maybe cow poop?"

This is a recent development for her and is another Cosby-ish example of how kids say the darndest things. The only drawback is if you are the perpetrator of said poop smell and she outs you in public. Sometimes, on the extremely rare occasion that the smell is coming from me, she'll chastise me about being a big boy and that big boys should go poop on the potty. If it's not you, then just sit back and enjoy the comedy. On the way home, she struck again
.
"I smell poop!"
Baxter replied, "It's just me Paige, I tooted."
I wonder if potty humor will ever get old.

Seasons change

2008-08-21T15:16:00.000-04:00

I often describe our friendly little neighborhood by asking people if they've seen the movie Pleasantville. I don't mean in a creepy, sanitary, lacking of individuality way, but more along the lines of quiet streets filled with friendly neighbors, impromptu chats in the street or someone's driveway. One other example drives up and down the streets on Tuesday evenings, ringing a little bell that can only mean one thing: Ice Cream!! The ice cream lady announced this week that she would be back for only 2 more weeks before shutting down the scooter for the winter, which means summer is almost finished. We've had other signs, like 50 degree air temperature by 10pm and not being able to sit outside with the paper at 6am, and the tomato plants showing signs of aging. We'll be ok though, fall brings apple picking, awesome leaf peeping and homemade soups from locally grown squashes. Here's a few fleeting images of summer before we get to the next season.

But it's a good kind of pain...

2008-08-18T08:41:00.000-04:00

This is slightly off target for I'm not a manny, but significant enough to be posted. I recently participated in a truly interesting athletic event right here in Vermont. It's called the 100on100 road race, a long distance relay that covers 100 miles on Rt. 100. I was 1/6 of a team of runners, mostly comprised of St. Lawrence University alumni. The lone dissenter was a Rochester grad, but we gladly let it slide because she was lovely company and solid runner to boot. All in all, SLU alum were part of 4 separate teams in the race, showing once again that SLU runners are in this for life and we mean business.
The weekend started out Friday night when Dwight Raby, a fellow teammate and class of '96 graduate arrived at our house for dinner. Dwight flew in from Georgia, showing his world-class commitment to our objectives of simply fielding a full team. Several more runners arrived a few hours later, with the last coming in on a delayed flight from Philadelphia, which arrived painfully at 2am in Burlington.
Saturday morning, we were off to the starting line at Trapp Family Lodge in Stowe at 7:45am. The organizers collect estimated pace times for all teams and stagger the starting times accordingly, so that the gracious volunteers who support the race are not stretched all over the course for 14 hours. Our team was to start at 10am, and finish roughly around 8:30pm. I'm not sure what I was thinking 6 weeks ago, because I gave them a 6:20 pace time/mile, which is a little exaggerated (we decided to use aggressive instead of exaggerated for the remainder the day) Our team roster and order of legs was as follows :Amy Farrell (she of top-notch speed and endurance, clearly in the "good people" category and most importantly, Ruby's mom), Peter Cutler of Norwood-Norfolk fame( he's fit, fast, funny and a college coach), Becky Dwyer (the previously mentioned UR grad and our official on-staff physician for the race), myself (nothing to add here), Dwight Raby (the georgian musician whose claim to fame is getting smoked in a song-writer contest by John Mayer) and last but not least, Chris "Sammy" Wilcox (our captain and unofficially, SLU's greatest alum).
The race kicked off from Trapp and we soon found ourselves as the last team on the course. Not necessarily the slowest mind you as I mentioned the staggered starts, but still the last. Our motto for the first cycle of runners was "don't stress the support team!" The organizers explain that if you fall significantly off your predicted pace, they will move a team up along the course with the van and adjust the total time accordingly and most importantly, said team is no longer eligible for awards. I should explain a little bit more about the structure of the race. Teams of 6, taking turns or "legs", each member running 3 separate legs over the course of 100 miles. Each leg is a different distance, the shortest being 2.5 miles, the longest being 7.3. For example, I was the 4th runner, I didn't take my 1st run until about 11:45. I then would wait until my turn came around again or in this case, started my 2nd run at around 3:45 and my last started at 7:50pm.
In between legs, we would cheer our runner at the moment, provide water along the course and knosh on whatever food we decided would supply all-important nutrition but not make us sick while running (mostly GU's, powerbars, gatorade, bagels with PB and J and twizzlers. We finally started catching teams at around the 50 mile mark and then it was on! Spotting slower runners while driving the support van, we would shout encouragement to our runner along the likes of,
"Run like you stole something!"
"Low hanging fruit coming up!"
"Don't stress the support team" (our favorite)

I took a couple of breaks after runs to soak in an icy cold stream that ran along parts of Rt100, which was very helpful once I got past the creepiness getting bumped into by fish and eels.

We finished around 9:30pm, tired, sore and happy to be done. Food was supplied (real food, not the athletic bird food we ate for 11 hours) I was able to catch a ride home with some friends and was finally taking a much-needed shower at 1:30am back home. The last 36 hours have been very achy and sleepy, but I'm getting slowly better. I mentioned to Paige yesterday morning that I couldn't carry her down the stairs because my legs were hurting. She planted a kiss on my thigh and declared that I was" all better"! Not quite, but I certainly appreciated her sweetness.
All in all, it was a completely awesome event, I recommend anyone needing to run 16-18 miles in one day to give it a try sometime. I ran 15.9 miles in a total time of 1 hour, 46 minutes and 11 seconds and it may take me 15.9 days to completely heal, but I'll be anxiously awaiting the next race once the recovery is complete.

800 miles of fun:The official van stamp of approval...

2008-08-12T14:02:00.000-04:00

Just got back from a whirlwind, week long tour of upstate NY -for years I've disagreed with most southern NYorkers on this term. Most folks near the big apple refer to anything north of the Poughkeepsie-ish area as being "upstate", while I, with an origin 15 minutes south of the Canadian border, thought upstate started in Lake Placid and went north. It's simple folks, just look at a map, upstate would refer to the top.
We started out on Saturday morning, after a rambling stuffing of the van with everything from the attic and headed west to Malone for a visit to the county fair in an effort to cinch the parent of the year award by submitting our 2 and 4 year old (almost) to the demolition derby. It started out being pretty cool, but quickly reached a toxic state of burnt rubber, oil and metal, not to mention deafening ear pollution.

We then searched for fair rides that both kids could ride on, Paige with her dad's short genes prohibiting her participation on several of Baxter's choices. The Ferris wheel was a hit, we got a ride all by ourselves.

Next, it was off to Star Lake and G'ma L's cabin. Great fun all around, Jen and I took the kids on a paddle boat ride around the lake, showing them all the cool secret passageways. Tuesday was a picture perfect day, gorgeous sun, plenty of swimming on the new swim float.

Left Star Lake on Wed. @ noon for Skaneateles, NY, a cute little Finger Lakes town where Jen's Grandmother, Aunt and Uncle live. We stayed in a B&B in town, neat old house (c. 1805) and toured the town and lake. With some irritating irony, we choose to stay in the B&B because Grandma T's house has cats and some smoke, and we were worried about fits of asthma for both Jen and Baxter. Well, the B&B happened to have some cats (mostly outside, but probably inside during the harsh winters) and the man of the house did some smoking as well. from now on, we ask about cats and smoking when choosing a place to lay our heads while on a trip.

Friday at noon, back to Malone for more fair fun. Saturday night, we were shakin with the Money man. That's right, Eddie Money. We being delightfully surprised as we age,our home town fair brings in acts that we grew up with and thus, have a little cheap fun during the summer on a visit home. Last year it was Loverboy, this year Money. The old hits were played and they sounded the same as they did 20 years ago. His 20 year old daughter, Jessie who didn't win(lost) on the Rock the Cradle reality show this past year is on tour with him and she sang a few songs. She wasn't bad, decent voice but some immature stage dancing (nothing inappropriate,, just silly looking). The Money man sang a few songs from a charity CD and the Malone folks got pretty restless. We overheard one funny exchange from behind us:
(Woman) " Look at all the people leaving!"
(Man) "Well they should, 'cause he sucks!"
The trip to Malone also allowed us to visit with cousin/niece Emma (my brother and his wife were also there but they know their place;) Paige and Baxter really like her and they all seem to play nicely together.

By Sunday morning, we were ready to head for VT and home. The kids have fallen back into their routines and so have we. I have a big race this weekend, the 100on100 6 person relay from Waitsfield to Killington. (www.100on100.org) Hope I still have legs at this time next week!

Quick update

2008-07-23T15:59:00.000-04:00

Ok, so we're having a baby. Another one. While our 1st two charges run us ragged and sleep is still a premium, we'll delve into infant land once more sometime around 11/22 of this year (well, obviously this year, Jen isn't an elephant). We're happy, excited to meet a new human that we created but have a little trepidation mixed in with that happiness. As I've stated before, being a parent is just plain hard. They give us joy, make us laugh and I couldn't imagine life without them, but it's still hard. We've had a hectic year so far: formed a little real estate company, built a commercial office building for Jennie's practice and will close on the purchase of this building next week. Jennie has moved to a spanking, sparkling new building and all the little hiccups are starting to get a little easier to swallow. However, her practice is busy, busy, busy! So we're both a little nervous with the prospect of adding a brand new person into this mix. It always works itself out, so I'm sure it'll be fine. Here's a couple of pics of the fam, while we are still a family of 4.

Van people

2008-07-23T15:44:00.000-04:00

Well, it's been literally months and months since I've last posted. Perhaps this isn't for me, but I'm making another attempt to get back on the horse.
We've made the leap into minivanville, purchasing a Toyota Sienna this morning. Baby #3 is on the way (more on that later) and the Subaru just wasn't going to make the cut. The van is nice, pre-owned (06) and the kids seem happy to each have their own seat row. The purchase was interesting; the local dealer lets you put a bid for any car via their website. Most people know I love to embrace technology and felt motivated to give it a try. Plus, the bonus of not having to talk to a car sales rep was too tempting. So I bid $1500 less than asking price, thinking no one would get back to me. 6 hours later, I was notified via email that my offer was "accepted", which immediately left me wanting more. Did I say 18,500? I meant 16,000......At any rate, we then proceeded to make an appointment to test drive. The fun part happened when we discussed the price of our trade-in car, the 02 Suby. For visual fun, picture 2 pounds of crushed goldfish crackers, a rogue dirty diaper, a pile of sand from the beach, along with assorted pieces of toys, junk mail, etc. They came is a little low, but after reading the above, maybe not. We pushed the rep a little bit and he mentioned a small dent on the door. Hmmm?? I don't remember, but is it about the size of my left shoulder? (I tripped while carrying baby Baxter about 3 years ago and turned my body to take the hit and protect Bax, denting the door with my obvious rock-hard body). Most book value companies refer to a "good" condition requiring "some reconditioning". I think they may want to revisit their description after cleaning up our car!

Healthy toddlers

2007-10-02T21:36:00.000-04:00

Baxter had his 3 year old checkup last week, which was comprised of the usual height, weight, diet questions, testing for vocab, etc. Luckily, no shots this trip but a new venture into what I like to call "Oh my goodness, childhood obesity is real and it's not McDonald's fault!"
1st, the nurse took his blood pressure. I was pleasantly surprised as he was very comfortable with the cuff and took credit for getting him that doctors kit last year for his birthday. But then, the worry started.

"Oh no, what if it's high?!
He won't be able to lick the salt off pretzels any more!
What can I do to lessen his stress? Wait, where is he getting stress from?! I wonder if that baby yoga class at the Y is full yet?
What about medication? He'll have to join his grandparents at breakfast with their Monday-Sunday pill containers."

Well it all turned out OK as he was declared pressure-free, or at least normal. Next on the health list was computing his Body Mass Index or BMI as the folks in the in know like to call it. Now this is sensitive subject because I don't believe the folks who invented this one really thought it out thoroughly. See, my short stature combined with my bulldog-like frame has always put me into an alarming category aptly titled, "Moderately Obese".
My 1st foray into BMI was the day before the Philadelphia Marathon at the runners expo. Someone was computing BMI for the runners, just for fun and to put some PR on the subject out there for the masses. I hadn't done a lot of training but I was reasonably fit and ready to run 26.2 miles. The nice young man took my weight and height and promptly told me I was overweight. I didn't know what to do except run as hard as I could for 22 miles to lose the required 20 pounds that would call off the fat police. Then I bonked and limped across the line with bloody nipple stains on my cotton t-shirt(prior to tech-wick).

Anyway, Bax is starting to look a little more like dear ol dad, at least in terms of stature. His height was a little under the norm and his weight was a little above the norm (for his age). Maybe the BMI people heard my complaints and have changed the formula, because he was given the A-OK from the nurse. Good thing, I don't think he could cut back on crackers and cereal bars .

Baxter turns 3

2007-10-01T14:49:00.000-04:00

Baxter turned 3 last week and is wise and all-knowing. Or at least he's got a good comic vibe about him.
We visited the wonderful northwest last week, staying with our good friends Eric, Sarah and Maya in Seattle. Eric has a great blog supplying the masses with political insight not found on the major news networks, along with top-notch pop-culture and parental information. Incidently, we learned during this trip he also has a not-so-secret fascination with the new and improved Britney Spears.
At any rate, Seattle was great, we saw the woodland park zoo, trained almost daily at Greenlake park for the Leaf Peeper half marathon (see details at my sister-in-laws blog), and enjoyed a comfortable family atmosphere at the Magnuson/Prager home. Oh, and Bax turned 3 years of age during the week. It's truly amazing how significant development is on only three short years. I remember vividly watching the Sox march through the playoffs three years ago and Baxter was nothing more than a puking, eating, sleeping blob (I type that sentence with love). Today, Baxter possesses verbal skills unmatched by many adults, has developed a taste for local artisan cheese (blue and chevre), regularly looks forward to mixing it up at the local farmers market and will chat it up with strangers about farming and firetrucks. A newer development is a strangely delightful imagination.
His mother discovered his crayon creation on our friends coffee table (sorry Eric and Sarah) during our last day in Seattle. Frustrated by this and several earlier episodes of toddler mischief, she exclaimed, "Baxter, what am I going to do with you?!"
To which he replied, " I guess you'll have to put me in a cage with kitty cats, 'cause I'm an animal!
Neither one of us has any idea where this line of thought originated from, we have no cats and have never threatened either child with a cage. The beauty of this is that it breaks the mood instantly and acts like a deodorizer of parental frustration.

We're back home now for over a week, ran 13.1 miles yesterday in a lovely race in Waterbury, VT. Fall is upon us, which is a good time in Vermont with the apples and great local harvest of the earth. May all your root vegetables be be tasty.

Hello....it's me

2007-08-24T08:05:00.000-04:00

Five months since writing seems like a death sentence for a blog, but things last forever on the internets. Other than the gap between seasons of "Lost", not much would rival my hiatus. Since we last talked, Paige started walking, kissing, hitting and recently, talking. Her words are limited, not unlike other 15 month old kids, but she doesn't let this limitation keep her from starting discussions with everyone she meets. Both kids actually, don't seem to have a shy bone in their bodies. Our local health food store, which sees us quite frequently, is a popular spot for Paige-related discourse. She waves at the cashiers regularly and babbles small talk while I pay for the goods. I think they enjoy the moment and aren't being friendly out of requirement of their customer service policy. Lately, she also will kiss anyone within reach, which can be a problem for the kids who do seem to mind the approach. We've started talking to her about personal space, but I don't think it's sticking quite yet. Several children have recoiled and started crying when Paige butts in for a chat and smooch. She hasn't taking this personal yet though, she moves on to the next child or dog for smooching, whichever is closer. She still is a pipsqueak, weighing in at 19 1/2 lbs as of last weeks 15 month check. Should anyone worry, I remind them to take a look at her father, all 5 feet of me. She's happy and thriving and we are too.
Baxter is doing great too, even though he still needs diapers at this point. I always thought 3 years was going to be the magic number for big boy pants, but as that momentis occasion is about a month away, I may have to adjust my expectations. We have the books, the potty's and we even negotiated a reward system for toilet use, to no avail at this time. About a month ago, I tried a different approach. I said to him, "Baxter, I have a feeling that you are going to use the toilet real soon." He replied, " Dadda, I'll use the toilet when my butt gets bigger." Tough to argue with that logic. This reminds me of something I saw in the newspaper recently. There is a new store opening locally that sells natural cloth diapers, and other hippy-like baby gear. One of the owners was talking up the benefits of cloth diapers and the quote that hit me went something like this. "I don't wear padded paper undergarments, so why should my baby have to wear them." That may be true lady, but I can't remember pooping or peeing in my underwear since college, so I'll need a better argument.

Paige turns 1

2007-04-30T08:33:00.000-04:00

After a harrowing start to life, Paigey turns 1 today. We celebrated a couple of times last week; once with the MP playgroup gang on Thursday and again with the family this past Saturday in Malone at Grandma & Grandpa Lowell's house. Attendance was solid with both greats (Trani and Lowell) from Jen's side of the family making the trip. Baxter was front and center for cake and presents, playing the role of "supportive" big brother. His sharing traits are improving rapidly, as he is always willing to "share" other people's things.
As with most early birthdays, this time presents a perfect mental environment for reflection. A year goes by quickly in the grand scheme of things and it's always amazing to see the development of young people. We watched a couple of home videos from the archives from last spring on our nostalgic tour and the comparisons are a blast. Baxter still looked like a baby and couldn't be understood verbally. This is stunning because he can now carry on a conversation about the weather, sporting events and food. Paigey's difference were obvious, as she was a wrinkly uncoordinated blob. Now.......just judge for yourself!

New developments

2007-02-19T21:31:00.000-05:00

We just returned from a family vacation/conference for Jennie in Park City and it was a busy, fun and exhausting week. Jennie and I went skiing in the Canyons 4 days and the kids went to a drop-in daycare called The Clubhouse. It was a clean, well-run joint for the kids and allowed us to partake in the "Greatest Snow on Earth" (Utah ski industry tourist motto). In addition to the usual (kids can't sleep because of the timezone issues, strange beds, etc), we had some new stuff to brag about. Firstly, within an hour of check-in, Baxter declared that he wanted to poop in the potty. And he did, 2 times within the hour. This is an absolute first for him and we rejoiced later that evening with an ice cream. He tried to negotiate some extra "cake treat and pie treat", but we kept things from getting out of hand and stuck with the ice cream.
Paige was not to be outdone and started crawling a few days later. And at 9 1/2 months, she beats her brother by about 2 weeks. She's got two modes, regular crawl and a modified version that looks like some sort of monkey scoot. She's really cute, still so tiny that it's amazing to see her motor herself across the floor. We'll need to start keeping the house a little cleaner now, she picks up the tiniest pieces of junk to stuff into her mouth. We call her Roomba....

We're happy to be home and are getting some sleep to recover. We even did some sleeping on the way home.

Little pitchers have big ears

2007-02-06T08:42:00.001-05:00

This saying never made much sense to me, but I remember it fondly from our annual Christmas viewing of "The Christmas Story". The gist of it is this: don't say anything you want kids repeating. In our childless years, we used curse words like most normal non-trucker people. As Jennie was pregnant with Baxter, we started retraining our vernacular with the inevitable assumption that we would need to be curse-free for the next 20 years. For the most part, we have been pretty clean, only slipping up when faced with severely frustrating situations. Family members, especially those who go weeks without seeing the kids, will occasional lapse. This makes for a slightly funny but awkward situation that requires us, the former children to reprimand our parents for swearing. 20 years ago, I would never have thought the following would leave my lips directed at Jennie's dad: "Watch your mouth old man! Do I need to take my belt off?"
As I mentioned in an earlier post, we recently had prolonged issues with leaky bathrooms. The shower stall has just been "repaired" for the 2nd time when I took a shower. As I opened the door, I noticed a dark wet spot on the floor towel. Filled with frustration, I muttered under my breath, "Jesus." Baxter just happened to be in the room with me and repeated what he thought he heard, using the same disgusted tone as his soon to be ashamed father. Only when it came out of his mouth, it sounded more like "Pizzas". Being well-read on how to deal with these situations, I didn't pursue or prod him further, but I didn't enjoy a nice chuckle. So next time you're struggling to find a strong but clean exclamation for a frustrating situation, remember there's always pizza.

See you on the (frozen) playground!

These eyes have seen a lotta love.......

2007-02-04T19:49:00.000-05:00

I successfully had lasik surgery this past Friday at the Vermont Laser Eyecare Center. When I say successful, I mean 20-15 vision and I went skiing the very next day. What an amazing procedure, I have a hard time putting it into words, but I guess I'll try. I have a decent memory and one of the files deep in my brain bank includes getting glasses when I was 6 or 7. Blackboard items at Ol Brushton-Moira seemed a little too blurry and I was tested for vision issues. The first (5-6) pairs of glasses were shall we say, from the geek series of eye wear. Combined with my super-cool mullet, I was able to snare my amazing-ish girlfriend Jennie during the high school days. I finally got contacts my frosh year of college and have worn them since. Recently I began having some issues with the contacts and Jennie, now playing the role of best wife on the planet, got me lasik's for Christmas and the rest is history. As I said before, everything turned out a-ok, but I must admit to a smidgen of anxiety and while getting the kids ready for the day, I had a frightful thought that I could be seeing them for the last time (irrational moment, even non-successful surgery wouldn't result in blindness, i think). So I took an extra 5 seconds with each kid, staring at their faces and soaking up their beautifulness. Luckily, I get to keep seeing those faces for the unforeseeable future. Even the outsider can admit, it's a sweet view. (Baxter "helped" with brownies, Paige just waking from a nap)

Waterworld

2007-01-19T14:20:00.000-05:00

Those who know us have heard all about the bathroom nightmares that we've encountered. For the most part, we love our home. Or I should say "love where our home is located but would like to make some rather large renovations in the near future" (Hello Chittenden loan department?). As luck would have it, we've encountered dueling leaky bathroom issues. Downstairs kitchen bath with shower (yes, we know that's weird) had some leaky grout and rotten drywall--out of commission for about 2 months. Very shortly after we learned of this problem, we noticed some peeling paint in the kitchen ceiling, curiously enough below the upstairs tub. We find out that the upstairs grout is also shot and is as porous as a sponge. We proceeded to shower with the shower head handle as close to our bodies as possible, which in the middle of the winter tends to be rather chilling. Downstairs shower door arrives, hurrah for us! Grout is applied upstairs, we're back in business with both, right? Well, there appears to be additional leaking from the hot water handle upstairs, call the plumber. Also, the new not-cheap shower door (downstairs for those keeping track)is leaking near the bottom. Our 3rd option for cleansing ourselves is pictured below....I'll add a pic of my bath later..

2007-01-10T12:43:00.000-05:00

I have a confession and I hope this will serve notice to other parents out there who feel like something is wrong with them, because it's completely natural (I hope). It is this: We feel a giddy-like sensation when both kids are sleeping soundly, either for naps or the evening. Early on, I didn't feel like I could release this information for fear of social services taking umbridge with this attitude. Jennie and I would confide in each other and question our fitness to be parents.
"What does it say about us that we look forward to nap and bedtimes with the same fervor as kids on christmas morning?"
Luckily, we had the same feelings so we didn't have to sheepishly admit to such truths. Lately, I'm hearing similiar themes from other parents with young children.
"I try to not to wish my life away but......"
"I got em both in bed by 7:30, it was heavenly."
"He was driving me crazy, so we started the bedtime routine early."
Guilt is a powerful and awful emotion and is not enjoyed by many. It's important to consider the facts. We have high standards for our parenting experience, whether it be enriched playgroups, organic foods, limited TV (limited meaning zero for Jennie), etc. We could spend 24 hours a day trying to live up to these expectations, without even considering work, sleep and other household duties. Perhaps it should be stated as such: Parenting is extremely hard. That's not to say that we don't enjoy it or love our children very much. In fact, I think it's hard BECAUSE we love them dearly to set such expectations. These quotes illustrate my point:
"I feel like a lousy mother, I haven't read many books to our 6 month old. I hope I haven't irreparably harmed her development."
"He's only had yogurt, fruit and some whole grains today, we're not doing a good job with vegetables."
I think you get the point. So let's take it easy on ourselves. If they're happy, healthy and mostly alive, pat yourself on the back because you're doing a good job. Besides, if we were perfect, therapists in 20-30 years would lose a lot of business.

Here's a recent pic of my brood.

See on the playground.

Yeehaw!

2006-12-30T15:32:00.000-05:00

It was a good year for Baxter, as he received a pony from Papa and Nana. Most importantly, it doesn't need to be fed or cleaned much, aside from the occasional cracker smashed into it's plastic mane.

Our free thinking toddler

2006-12-27T22:12:00.000-05:00

We've entered the realm of independence with Baxter. We had heard about defiance as a character flaw of other children but had never witnessed it before with our wonderful, perfect little child. well, he's created his own prefix for anything we ask or suggest for him to do. Want to get a clean diaper?" Nah, I not get clean diaper. I not. Want daddy to put socks on you? Nah, I not daddy put socks on. Sometimes we can trick him into refusing cookies, bouncy rides on my belly or other fun things but he usually quickly corrects himself. "Nah, I not want ice cream......um, Baxter wants ice cream, BAXTER WANTS ICE CREAM!"

This fun little trait revealed itself at a recent slightly public event. We hosted a Santa party for our neighbors and friends last week. Jen's mom use to host a similar party and it was a treasured memory for her. So she had long ago planned to do something similar when we had children old enough to enjoy it. After weeks of stalking mall Santa's, calling the admin offices of the local shopping plaza's, etc., she finally tracked down Santa and Mrs. Claus for our party.
Both Bax and Paigey received Santa and the missus well, no stranger fear, mainly curious and excited. But as Baxter went to receive his gift at the appropriate time, Danielle suggested that he give Santa a hug for his present and to give his parents, grandparents and aunts a photo-op, he stopped, turned to face Danielle and announced clearly and loudly for all to hear, " No, I not hug Santa." Luckily, Santa is vet and took this Heisman well.

Emperor's new (gender neutral?) clothes

2006-10-23T08:43:00.000-04:00

I believe the Patriot Act allows me to inflict this form of torture...

Getting by

2006-10-17T15:26:00.000-04:00

Somedays, I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. It's not that the kids are bad per se, but more a combination of fatigue (maybe no solution to this one), guilt associated with not contributing income and the fond memories of lunch breaks, coffee breaks, ice cream breaks, etc. In truth, I don't feel like a good father on days of almost nervous breakdown and wonder if quality is more important than quantity. I imagine I'll fight the urge to head back to work throughout my tenure as stay-at-home-dad. For now, I'm buoyed by the little gems of parenting and that fact that I'm rather lucky to not miss anything noteworthy that happens when the kids turn on the charm. Paige has almost completely erased the "bad baby" stigma. She's such a little cherub, smiling so hard that her cheeks get all scrunched up and it appears that she's got a double barrel helping of RedMan chewing tobacco. As for Bax, he continues to impress with amazing displays of maturity. A few days ago, he announced at 10:45 am that he was going to "go nap". He hasn't put himself to bed much at all during his stay with us, so I naturally doubted his words and tried to distract him with food. "How about lunch or a snack?"
His response, "I go lay down".
Lay down he did, and 3 hours later he woke refreshed and ready for that snack. (How 'bout cracker snack?) I wondered hopefully if our toddler sleep training was complete. (stupid optimism!)

Then a few a nights ago, I had a brief glimpse into a possible career of investigative sniffing. It was about 8:30 at night and he was having some trouble getting sleep (see?). Jennie and I had settled down into our nightly "we're too exhausted to work out so let's have a bowl of ice cream with whipped cream on top" ritual. After a few spoonfulls of CCCD (that's chocolate chip cookie dough for the novices out there), I went upstairs to coax him back into bed. I met him at the door and picked him up so he was eye level or maybe better put, mouth-to-nose level. He looked at me and asked, "Cancake?(pancake)"
"No silly, daddy's not eating pancakes at night!"
"Cookie?"
Pretty darn-near close enough from viewpoint, he had me.
"Ok buddy, you got me. I just had some cookie dough. Maybe you can have some tomorrow if you go to sleep." He was asleep in 5 minutes.

See you on the playground!

Catching up

2006-09-19T14:24:00.000-04:00

It's been a long, cold pause in Manny posts, sorry to all my word-hungry fans. I'd like to claim that my busy schedule is the reason but for the most part, I just couldn't think of anything to write. That all changes today. We've had a bithday, transition to a big boy bed and a family wedding. September 19,Baxter became an official 2 year old . I started thinking about his birth and the wonder of it all and the memories of that day flooded my brain. It's amazing all the changes that have occured to our lives in just 2 calender years. I'll try to crystalize my thoughts, but it may be hard to put into words.
I've been blessed with a strong memory and often times, I feel like I'm actually in the past, reliving moments worth remembering. When I think about Baxter's birth, the sights, smells and sounds are very powerful. Here we had this fresh, clean little person, capable of learning all manner of stuff we felt he needed to learn. He was completely dependent on us and other loved ones around him. Now, in just 2 short years, he has his own character and language that makes us love him more each day.
Here's a few of my favorites:
How 'bout warm milk? (getting ready for bed, his favorite beverage)
Whoa Baxter! ( doing anything too fast -running, spinning, etc...)
Whoa! (After burping........we're working the proper commentary for this action)
Bye! Soon! (Omiting 'See you' from the last phrase)
Daddy sing/Momma sing
I'm leaving out many, but the gist is that, we're having a blast and look forward to upcoming learnings.

The big boy bed transition is complete, we're back to the old crib routine of a few books, possibly a song, pile into bed with a nest of animals and blankets and then lights out. We were in Malone this weekend for my brothers wedding and he even survived a bed without toddler rails. Life is good.
Speaking of nuptials, my brother Jeremy married long-time sweetheart Stephanie this past Saturday and needless to say, it was fabulous. I gave a best man speech that went quite smoothly (thanks to my speech coach, Jennie, my practice audience of Baxter and Paige) and the reception was awesome. It would be better described as a 'rocking good time'. Jennie's dress was amazing, I'm looking for some more formal events so I can see her in it again soon.
As I practiced last week to Baxter, anytime I would pause slightly for effect or pose a question for thought, Bax would answer, "Yeah" or "yes", just like he was in a Baptist church.

I'll try to pop in more often now, see you on the playground.

Safety Net

2006-08-30T22:23:00.000-04:00

The subject of child safety has been on my mind lately. It started last week, after there was a multiple homicide in our comfy, homey little Chittenden County. A domestic dispute in the town of Essex left 2 women dead, one of which was shot in a school. A truely sad and senseless act of violence. On a sidenote, has anyone ever commited murder that was full of sense??
The next day as I left Baxter at daycare, I had an admitted illogical sense of fear for his welfare. What if someone barged into the center and started shooting?! I had to force myself to keep driving home, that he would be ok, that it was more likely that we would be in a car accident to witness daycare violence. Then tonight, my sister Danielle who lives with us asked if she could take Bax to the county fair. Seems perfectly fine and safe, Danielle is a fairly sharp person and lovingly cares for her nephew and niece when she's in charge. However, both Jennie and I had pangs of fear when we thought of Baxter without his parental protectors. Anyway, he went and was fine and had an absolute blast. As wet-behind-the-ears parents, we are still learning to trust others with our children and its hard. I remarked recently that I don't fully feel like the kids are safe unless I'm physically by their side. One could take this to mean that I don't trust anyone but myself. I tried to explain that I knew this was irrational but it didn't come off cleanly and I think I slightly insulted Jen. I think the moral of the story is that parents love their children with such a passion, we have a hard time understanding how we could live without them and that we need to have the complete control over their wellbeing. I should add that our direct family also loves our kids with similiar abnormal-ness and wouldn't let anything happen to them either. It helps my sanity to keep this in mind.
On a lighter note, Baxter had a rough allergy spell a few nights ago. He woke at midnight on Monday, which was the last night of a hellish call weekend for Jennie(& us). You see, his father forgot(what was I saying earlier about being the guardian of wellness/safety?) to give his dose of Zirtec for seasonal allergies, resulting in an itchy nose. After pushing the meds (that's doctor talk for "giving the medicine"), I knew it would take a while to kick in and thus, we were going to be up for an indeterminate amount of time. So I asked if he wanted to lay in mommy and daddy's bed (Jennie was absent this night). He said yes and while we made our way to the room he asked," Watch baseball?" Well, the Sox were on the west coast and the game was still on, so that's exactly what we did. I fell asleep for a few minutes and thought he would do the same. Except that when I woke and looked over, he was still watching the game. This was even more extraordinary because the Sox were (and still are) in the midst of a major losing streak. Thus, never let it be said that Bax is a fair-weather fan, he can watch the BoSox even when they are stinking up the joint. I think he was contemplating who Boston should keep for '07 and which players should be traded, he's got Theo on his toy phone speed dial.

We're off for the Lowell family traditional Labor Day blowout at Star Lake in the Adirondacks. Hope everyone has a safe and fun holiday weekend.

See you on the playground.

Big Boy Bed

2006-08-23T09:08:00.000-04:00

At the risk of jinxing myself, Baxter has been successfully transitioned to a big bed boy in the past week. We did a little switcharoo with bedrooms, Danielle went into the guest room, Baxter into her old room and Paige into Baxter's old room, which is officially titled "the nursery". It was time to get Paige into a crib and out of our bedroom (yeah!) and after much hand-wringing and debates about who gets what furniture, etc., they are both sleeping in their own rooms.
If you've been reading along, we decided to go with the prisoner theme of twin matress on the floor for Bax. We contemplated using a frame with rails but he just seems too short to manuver a climb down in the morning without stumbling to a concussion. He's doing well and only needs a little time with one of us in bed before getting comfy enough to fall asleep on his own. Next up, potty time.
We had a nice visit last week from Jennie's great uncle Arthur from NJ. Baxter and Arthur got along like ham & eggs. Arthur has trouble hearing and seeing (he's 88) and Baxter can't read or speak clearly enough yet. The result: Baxter could bring books over to Arthur's lap and not be the least bit aware that Arthur couldn't read the book or hear/understand the gibberish that comes out of his mouth. I mean Baxter's mouth....
Funny story from last week. I went to donate blood (critical need, get in line people!) and as I was getting ready to leave (ie: grabbing free pizza, crackers, donuts, etc...) this nice lady went through this gracious, proclaimation to the guy leaving in front of me. She said, "Thank you so much for coming in today. I just want to let you know that by your act, you saved at least 1 and possibly 3 people's lives today."
He had a slightly puzzled look on his face and left the building. A coworker of this lady leaned over to her and said, "Mary, that was the pizza guy!"

See you on the playground!

true joys of (parent) life

2006-08-04T12:18:00.000-04:00

I was witness to another stunning development a few nights back while putting Baxter to bed. The general routine for bed involves a few literary favorites (Big Tractor, Papa Get the Moon, etc..) a little gentle rocking accompanied by the Carly Simon classic "You're The Love of My Life", which in our family is titled, "The Avocado Song". Bax really loves this song, as his mom has been singing it to him since the early days. In fact, his 1st 4 word sentence was, "Daddy sing avocado song?" Mostly, he wants Mom to sing it but I've been practicing up so that I can pinch hit when Jennie is tired or at the hospital.
Anyway, I was well into the 2nd chorus when Baxter slid off my lap and toddled to his crib. I kept up the singing and rubbed his back for a few seconds when he sat up and put his hand over my mouth. Stunned, I looked at him for a second to see this little pensive face struggling with deep thought. Obviously, he had something to say and he was searching his limited but rapidly developing database of vocabulary for the right thing to see. I like to think he was trying to protect my fragile psyche and was struggling for the gentlest choice of words. So, after a few seconds, he decided what to do. He gave me his little wave, which in reality looks like he's turning a door knob and said cheerfully, "Bye!"
"Oh?! Uh, goodnight Bax. I love you."
He replied, "Goodnight. I wuh you." and plopped down on his bear and blanket pile.
I wasn't upset at all. Quite the opposite, it gave me a nice warm feeling and I chuckled to myself on the way out of his room. These are the moments that make parenting priceless, in my opinion. Not only was he polite, but he realized he was tired and wanted some peace and quiet so he could go to sleep.
Paige has been pretty spectacular too. She has fallen asleep a few times without the straight jacket treatment, which allows us to stare at her little feet (one of my favorite pastimes). She's becoming a champion nurser and her scrawny legs are starting to get puffy (ie: fat). Baxter seems to like her more, even if he still clobbers her with his affection.
I've reached the 2 month mark as a stay at home dad and while many days are tiring and challenging, I don't for one moment regret my choice. I look forward to the many more opportunities that Baxter and Paige will give me to rejoice in their wonderment.

New Post-It note:Don't leave pens in the baby's crib!

2006-07-12T12:08:00.000-04:00

Before anyone calls Social Services, the subject header is a joke. You see, Baby Paige has not been a good nurser or bottle feeder since day 1. We recently discovered that this could perhaps be caused by some yeasty oral thrush and have started this treatment. 1st person to point out it took 10+ weeks for us to solve this wins a prize! (Stupid parents!!) Anyway, the treatment is one purple popsicle per night (another joke, I've got bags of 'em!) No, it's called Gentian Violet and it's a tad messy. We've taken to calling her Baby Joker; it's easier for Baxter to pronounce anyway. Another 4 days of this and hopefully we'll be in the clear.

Baxter update: He has graduated from crying in the morning to be released from his pen to calls of MOM-MA! DAD-DY! It's quite a cute development and that leads me to another topic-when do we transition him to the "Big-Boy Bed". We've learned of multiple opinions on this subject from a) leave him in the crib indefinitely, can't beat the "cage-like" characteristics! b)Throw a mattress or some blankets on the floor like a hostel. It'll teach him humility. Our personal favorite is c)Wait till he tries to climb out of his crib. To this, my sister-in-law responds, "So, you wait until he potentially falls 3-4 feet to the hard wood floor and then you give him a nice safe alternative." It's kinda like toddler fear factor! Rappel successfully down the crib and you win! Maybe I'll just Gerry-rig higher sides on the crib and leave him in it until he gets his drivers license....

See you on the playground!

Why do they hate me so?

2006-07-07T10:03:00.000-04:00

We as parents are constantly looking to our children for a sign that they genuinely like us for who we are and not because we hold the key to the cracker cupboard. It took me three long months with Baxter to learn how to control this insanity. Back when he was still pretty wet behind the ears, we did not see eye to eye. He cried constantly and wouldn't give me the time of day. I would come home from work and give 110% in my greeting. His response: nothing. Do you know who I am? Without me, dear boy, you are nothing! You will learn some proper manners and respond courteously when I ask you in a sing-song voice, "Whose my wittle man?" Meanwhile, Jennie had no issues; she was in love and could bond with Baxter while sleeping. Of course, I blamed nursing. He was a hungry little tank and she could feed him with her own body. To top it off, this nursing thing helped her lose all sorts of weight without even trying! Meanwhile, I would hide in the basement, drowning my angst in a bowl of ice cream while waiting for my fat pants to come out of the dryer. I use to think, "If I could just have one boob, just one, I'd be so powerful!"
After a while, we (I) figured out how to deal with it and everything has been grand since. Now Paige comes along and the roles have flipped. I seem to be able to get gigantic smiles out of her while Jennie is an allergen for the little girl; getting her to cry and writhe her body anytime she comes near. I know there is no logical or scientific reason to believe this, but still..... Here’s a recent pic of the kids.

See you on the playground!

Looonnng weekend

2006-06-26T07:43:00.000-04:00

We survived (sorta)! Jennie was on call this weekend and for those who don't know it, that means she was not available to us. Jennie is an OB/GYN at a burgeoning private practice and being on-call means bringing 3-4 new SS#'s into the world each day. I don't know why a weekend alone with the kids seems harder than weekdays, they just are! Perhaps it's because all my life I've been programmed to think of the weekend as free time, time to relax, maybe paint half of the porch steps, and the icing on the cake-stare at some tender morsels of marinated meats & veggies on the grill. Perhaps I should start viewing the weekend like a Thursday. Thursday has been pledging at Phi Wanna BeAWeekend, especially among college-aged folks for years now. Maybe you have a rousing good time on Thursday but it's not the end of the world if you don't. I'll get to work on that.
Anyway, we're doing ok. Baxter did his best Jimmy "Superfly" Snooka impersonation off the couch Friday night and ended up a nice shiner on his left cheek. Once again, a sister came to the rescue, this time it was Ashley. Ash is leaving soon on a cross-country road trip with some friends in an attempt to stretch college into the summer (Ashley just reluctantly graduated from Siena last month). Surprisingly, she still needs help reading.

2006-06-21T10:56:00.000-04:00

As Jennie & I considered this stay-at-home-dad gig a while back, we considered the remote possibility that Baxter might like daycare better than home life. With all the scheduled snack time, loads of trucks and other fun stuff, who could blame him, right? Thus with no educational training, we sampled some arts & crafts a few days ago. He looks happy, right? (I swear, I let him take a nap as soon as he replicated a Van Gogh).

Building a 'Uterus'

2006-06-18T12:02:00.000-04:00

My 1st week on the job and after a tumultuous beginning, things are going really well. Monday was Jennie's 1st day back at work and she was on call to boot. Thus, I was alone with both kids from mid-morning til roughly 8:30 without her. Luckily, I received some aid from my sister Danielle and sister-in-law Suzanne. Danielle lives with us while attending college and Suzanne makes the occasional 6pm drop-in after work which is officially titled "I'm not here to eat, but......what's that pizza taste like anyway?"
Joking aside, I was in need of some help and they both came to the rescue. Baxter had fallen down some steps and received a fresh egg on his head late in the afternoon and both decided to be hungry at the same time...at any rate, each day was an improvement and we're all getting along famously.
In fact I may be able to proclaim that I've finally built my uterus, or at least it's a work in progress. What? That's not a common metaphor? Sometime ago, Jennie had an amazing day while a resident on a oncology rotation.
"We did the most amazing thing today! Some bad stuff happened (I won't bore or gross you out with actual medical lingo) and we had to build a new uterus out of leftover tissue, some catgut and intense will (feeling inadequate MacGyver?)."
My response felt weak before it left my lips.
"Well I had to put a large purchase order together for Nalgene because everyone loves those colorful plastic bottles.........nevermind, I got nothing."
I relayed this story to a co-worker friend of mine during some cubicle-chat. We were both feeling bummed over the lack of impact our work lives had on societal needs. Inspired, she crafted a motto for us-"Build YOUR Uterus!" She went so far as to write this on my whiteboard. Interestingly, not one person asked what it meant and HR didn't leave any warning slips in my mailbox.
Well Melissa, I think I've found my uterine building project!

Editors note-My wife tells me that it's impossible to actually build a uterus, making my recollection a little shady. Thus, I think this motto can also be used by the Gynecologic community. We all need some motivation!

See you on the playground!

Peace corp's got nothing on me

2006-06-16T10:24:00.000-04:00

Hardest job you'll ever love, eh? Let's see.....
Description-Must be able to multi-task, extreme flexibility needed, irregular and sometimes, non-existent breaks, must handle bodily waste, irritable customers, must be able to lift heavy objects (and they only get heavier)
Hours-all of them
Salary-volunteership (who needs cash?!)
Benefits-watching the fruits of labor develop into a wonderful contribution to society.

In case you're confused, this is the description for the latest job that I've taken--I'm staying home with our two young kids. Don't get me wrong, the Peace Corp is a wonderful program that allows folks to spend a few years sunning themselves in the Pacific, fishing and catching up on 20 years worth of reading. But as the title of this post says, this job has its own brand of unique challanges. Nevertheless, I'm thrilled to be here and don't have any plans currently to leave this post. The decision to do this came after we added Baby Paige to the stable that already includes Baxter (22 months). For the past 14 months, Jennie and I have run in the rat-race known by many.
6am, wake, throw some food in Baxters cage, er, I mean crib.
6:30, get Baxter dressed for daycare
7am, breakfast for the rest of us, make lunches.
7:45-drive to daycare, maybe pick up diapers on the way and a 4th cup of coffee.
8:30-5 work (blah, blah).
5:15-pick up Baxter, race home.
5:45-make nutritious dinner while fending off a ravenous Baxter.
6:45-15 minutes of play, then up to the bath.
8pm-Baxter in bed, clean up kitchen.
9pm-plans for gym are scraped, retire to couch with bowl of favorite B&J's.

You know the Jerry Greenfield saying? "If it's not fun, why do it?" I worked at Ben & Jerrys and this resonated with our situation. Anyway, you get the idea.....I'm now the chief household manager.

I'll leave you with this.....my research of stay at home dads revealed that we (the dads) don't really like the moniker "Mr Mom". While this doesn't personally offend yours truely, I feel good knowing that someone is watching my back in defense of insensitive nicknames.

See you on the playground!