Three stories from the little J's

Story 1:

Brooke was taking care of the kids several days ago, and the time was approaching the lunch hour. She inquired from them what foods they would be interested in eating.

Joey replied: "I want peanut butter and Jelly!"

Brooke pleaded against that decision and they had recently dined from that meal selection, so she suggested a choice of Macaroni and Cheese and possibly hot dogs.

Jessamyn tossed in her opinion: "Well, I don't want Macaroni Cheese here, I want to go to 'Noodles' to get Macaroni Cheese."

"Noodles" is Pike kid slang for 'Noodles & Company', a local franchise the serves a limited yet delectable selection of pasta based entries of which the macaroni and cheese option has become the top choice of the under five crowd in our household.

Brooke had to explain to her they couldn't go to "noodles" because all three kid's car seats wouldn't fit in her car.

Jessamyn quickly applied her rapid fire three year old problem solving logic (we should rent her to the current Washington's administration, I'm sure she'd have fixed many of their infrastructure problems in seconds) to the situation: "Well, you need a bigger car."

Somehow, in her mind, it's literally as simple as heading up the street and picking one up like we would a gallon of milk or some bread.

Brooke tried to explain that she couldn't afford one (her car only has 55k miles on it, and she just got it several months ago - which didn't stop me from backing my massive boat of a truck into it last week in an act that ended up ruining her front grille, hood, and bumper, yet only mildly scuffing the paint job on the back of my truck).

Jessamyn just gave her that funny head-tilted stare that judges you to be some sort of lunatic that arrived on a space ship with weird antennas hanging where your ears should be.

Story 2:

In a previous post, I mused about my great and novel idea to divert our children’s early morning desires to wake everyone up in the house (well, it starts with their mom and dad first) towards a poor and unsuspecting Brooke.

Day two of my excellent priciple in execution, though I don't think my wife or Brooke are feeling it is as fantastic a concept as I am. I again suggest they leave us alone in pursuit of the sleeping body that is furthest away from my pillow at this moment.

Off they depart like Columbus to the new world.

Jessamyn, always needing to be first in confrontation in these types of situations, quietly approaches the sleeping Brooke.

She whispers "Brook, its time to get up."

"Jess, I’m really tired."

"No you're not!"

"Well, I can't see anything." Jess had nicely heeded her mother’s shouted suggestion as the three year old eagerly descended the stairs "Jess, don't turn Brooke's light on!"

Jessamyn suggests that maybe turning the lights on would be a good solution to the current lack of visibility.

"Well, let's keep my light off."

Jessamyn began looking around the room, as if realizing all of Brooke's belongings had just appeared there in that instant.

"Why do you have all this stuff in here?"

"You know how you have all that stuff in your bed room? Well, it's kinda like that."

Jess replies "Well, why don't you bring it all up to my room and you can sleep with me?"

With that, Jessamyn leaves the room, gathers her brother, and heads up stairs.

Brooke updates them as they head up the stairs "Guys, I'll be up in a couple minutes."

Upon arriving at the kitchen, the two find their mother readily preparing their breakfasts.

"So, what's was Brooke doing down there?"

Without missing a beat, Jessamyn replies "She wasn't ready for us yet."

Story 3:

After assuring me that the 8:40pm re-tuck-in, the fourth of the evening, that he was really going to sleep this time (I had already abated him with a granola bar and a 'Joey' branded cup of water), a fifteen minute reprieve was suddenly disturbed by a fire outfit clad nearly five year old who needed immediate assistance in donning his bunker pants.

When asked what was going on, he replied in a very authoritative manner that suggested we were keeping him from much more pressing matters "I have a fire call!"

"There is a BIG FIRE and I need to get to my fire truck RIGHT NOW!"

"And I can't get my pants on because I've got my pajamas on and the pants are all messed up."

Jessamyn comes out of her room to make sure Joey is 'ok' at this point "Is he going to be alright?"

"No, Jess, I've got a fire call and I need to really really go."

Brooke tries to return to the previous agenda "Joey, can we play fire trucks in the morning instead."

Silence.

Oh, he's mad now. I can see the redness swelling around his eyes and the lips tensing around his mouth. Glaring eyes pushing red penetrating laser beams at us emanate from an upset arms-folded figure that is obviously not getting his own way.

We try again to point out that firemen need their sleep, and that there is no fire call right now. I promise to alert him and wake him up if his firemen need him, and that there would most assuredly be some sort of massive event in the morning that would require his heroic attention, but he needed his sleep.

He turns, clambers up onto his bed, tosses his forty pound body onto his pillow like a bag of potatoes, gives out a defeated sigh, and with that, goes to bed.

jp

Early moring goings ons

"Mom? I'm really hungry. Listen! My tummy is making a growling sound 'cause it's so hungry."

This unwelcome announcement comes at 6:52am in the morning when already exhausted parents have gotten too few hours of precious uninterrupted sleep. Sleep that would have lasted much longer had the announcer's little sister not decided to jump into her parents bed at 4:00am, and donated the gift of distrubed sleep patterns that only a three year old can give.

"Please.... mommy and daddy are still tired. Can't you go play down in the playroom for a little while."

"But, I'm really hungry. I need lunch."

Now, the three year old wakes up. We try one last time to delay the inevitable.

"Joey, don't you want to come cuddle with us?"

"No. I'm awake. It's wake time."

He goes and looks through the blinds to confirm that there is some form of light to be seen outside.

At this point, I remember that we have someone living in another bedroom of the house... a bedroom that is floors away from us right now... and those floors equate to silence and more sleep for us. So I suggest:

"Why don't you two go and visit Brooke."

The now energized three year old exclaims: "Yeah, Joey, let's go get Brooke!"

So, our two lovely children embark on a quest to find Brooke.

Jess walks into Brooke's room first, and, in an action that my first step-father used to do thats still torments my nightmares to this day, turned on the lights. Now, these are not just normal lights that reside in the ceiling of my old drum room, oh no. I put four of them in there to make sure I could see what I was doing when practicing... and yes, I made sure they were good and bright (ie: high wattage. yeah, I know, not very environmentally conscious of me, but...), something I'm sure Brooke was not too happy about at that exact moment.

"Ouch... Jess... Brooke doesn't like those, can you please turn them off?"

For some reason, us parental types always refer to ourselves in the third person: "Daddy doesn't like it when you talk to everyone on his fire radio", "Mommy doesn't like it when you come to the front door naked when the mailman comes", and now "Brooke wants to sleep a little more."

"Ok"

A very obedient three year old turns off the lights and heads back to pester Brooke some more.

"It's time to wake up Brooke."

"Don't you want to cuddle? Brooke is feeling tired and needs more sleep."

"No, I'm awake now. You can't sleep, it's wake time."

Where's Joey during all this? Brooke heard some noises and asked if he was doing something he should be.

"Nope."

"You aren't playing with Daddy's drums are you?"

"Nope I'm not. And you don't need to come check."

Oh, like thats not an obvious admission of guilt on his part, that we would believe his statements that we should trust him, almost like the statements he'll make when he has had an "accident" in his pants: Joey, are you wet? No. Don't check me.

Now, at this point, I need to break from the story and relay part of a conversation that my wife shared with me about our almost five year old son this past Saturday, while I was away in Kentucky: "... so I walk past the play room, and here I see YOUR son standing in front of the TV. He's taken all of his clothes off and pulled his underwear down to his knees. He's just standing there watching Tarzan. So, I ask him what in the world he thinks he's doing. He tells me that he's 'Tarzan.' He tells me that Tarzan doesn't wear clothes. So I ask why his underwear is down, and he points out that Tarzan wears a loin cloth, so he had to pull his underwear down to look like him. I then pointed out to him that Tarzan's thingy probably doesn't hang out, though. He replies: 'Oh, you're right.'"

Yeah, this is our son. Back to the early morning story.

At this point, Brooke gives up the fight and comes out to find Jess trying to play with drumsticks, and Joey has creatively placed various drum pedals around the electronic drum kit that waits to find a permanent home in our basement (the one consession that my wife made to me when we migrated all of my drums to a climate controlled storage site several weeks prior).

And yes, we're still sleeping away...

We've just successfully tossed our morning wake up calls onto Brooke... hopefully, this will be something we can repeat going forward.

jp

Fire Department Quandry - Update

The impasse about the Fire Department has been resolved, at least temporarily for now (I still have yet to respond to a call....). The cross roads of the decision process have been passed, and it feels like we may have moved beyond it without actually putting a whole lot of thought into where we're going... at least from my part.

If it sounds like I'm still on the fence, well, thats because I am. It feels better to stay, I know my heart is in it, but the clock of time seems to be against me, as I'm just running out of it before I've even had the chance to put any towards the Fire Department.

The greatest dissappointment comes from my feelings about my son's commitment and pride of his father being a firefighter. If I judge myself through his eyes, then it should be something that unequivically belongs in my life. He looks up to me. He brags about it. Every night when I come home, I get the "Emergency Vehicle" update from him: a listing of where and when he say police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks throughout the day. His parents are fully convinced that this boy is going to grow into a firefighter himself, one day.

With his commitment and passion about this, who am I to have problems within my own convictions? It seems so simple when I think about it from his viewpoint, and indeed, the actual job really is. It gives back as much as you put into it. The problem is the time side of it. I have none.

And so, I drift in a sea of uncertainty on a boat made of hope floating towards the city of life using a paddle crafted from my own problems propelled by the energy of my desires.

What I really need is a weather report to know if another storm is coming that I should heed.

What about the tides?

Is there a current in this sea?

Sun screen... should have brought some of that too.

Maybe soon the Sun will come out to clear up this fog of discontent.

If I delay too long, a decision will be made for me, and then the throughts of punishment from the lack of involvment will devastate my pride in the job I've done and the service I've given to those that brought me into the fire service in the first place.

Most of all, I'll feel like I've let myself and my son down.

Who are we if not viewed favorably in the eyes of those we love most? I know, I know, he'll always love me... but, maybe, just maybe, I need to push myself a little more... earn his love a little more... give him pride in his father... lead with a good example... show him I am the hero he believes me to be... walk a path that he can follow... view that sunset of our lives together...

Joey? Where's your paddle?

jp

Where are you now?

The local impacts of "Global Warming" resulted in another amazing variance in temperature shifts during the day yesterday, going from the 40's to single digits in the span of a few hours. Blustery winds and sideways falling snow laminated our roads with at first rain, then slush, then glare ice, and topped it all off which a nice helping of snow. Michiganders are getting used to these climatic conditions, so, drivers were very cautious on the roadways, but the schools were wise enough the let their members stay at home.

If memory serves, this is the first snow day of the season. Joey and Jess were thrilled to spend the day at home, while their parents were not so enthusiastic. Fortunately, I'm able to escape to work, but Jenny... well, at least she got to go to the gym today.

Joey is ever growing older, taller, more mature, and encompassing all the things you'd expect from an almost five year-old. But, as parents, I think Jenny and I are still caught in bewilderment at the speed at which we've arrived at this time and place. We're the early thirty's parents of a now almost five year old son.

Wait... when did this happen. We just held his second birthday party months ago, right? At least, that's the way it feels.

Someone put on the brakes!!! This is all going too fast!!!

I'm still trying to convince myself that the career I've chosen is the one I want to spend the rest of my life doing.

What happened to us? I though we were still kids ourselves? How did we suddenly become the stoic figures I remember thinking my parents were when I was five.

Wait, will Joey remember me as stoic when he looks back at his memories of being five. You mean, he'll actually remember all this in time?

Suddenly, I feel awash with sorrow and regret when reflecting about all the things I'd always thought I'd be doing at this age and with our kids.

Are we not doing enough as parents? Are we really sure we're making all the right decisions?

Public or private schools? What are vouchers? Charter schools mean what again?

Dance or sports? Skiing or playing in the yard?

Are we traveling enough? Are we helping our kids be "well-rounded?"

Will our kids be able to go to college and beyond?

What aren't we doing that other parents do without thinking?

Would an ivy-league educated parent do different things for their kids that get them to go farther in life that we are over looking?

What the heck am I doing?

Do I even know?

For some reason, when I was younger, I thought I'd have all the time in the world to plan our lives to the nearest second, and pack it full of all the meaningful events that we fill our minds with when watching other examples of good parenting. You know, the "oh, I'll do that when I have kids" and "I'll never do that" or the "for sure, I'm never making that type of mistake with my kids."

We are those parents now.

I recall one specific incident that illustrates this type of thinking. Jenny and I were eating at the Olive Garden in East Lansing one night, and two ladies came in with a baby that was probably about 6 months old. They ordered drinks, ordered their meals, and enjoyed each others company. Just as soon as their food came, the baby started an abundant outpouring of disdain in the form of screams and cries. Being mortally embarrassed at this scene, they immediately requested the waiter box their food, and they dashed away to the seclusion of their car and away from the prying eyes of the restaurant patrons.

Believing that they had acted appropriately, probably since we thought that the best measurement of a parents ability at the time was how they handled these types of situations, we both looked at each other and mused how we would be sure to handle that same situation in exactly the same way, should it ever happen to us.

Fast forward about seven years, add three kids, and a different take on parenting, and I think we handle that same situation is a much different manner.

Now, to be honest, I'm not entirely lethargic when it comes to public parenting, but, I definitely could care less about the perceptions and obvious outward reactions of others with regard to my handling of my kids, but... and that's a big but... I no longer get embarrassed by what they do.

Sure, we skip the really nice restaurants when they are in tow, part out of fiscal responsibility, but part out of decency to others, I guess.

Hey, they're kids, enjoy them while you got 'em, or hate them, I don't care what you think because I know what I think.

I'm sidetracked... yeah, really.

I fret about the thought that I may not be doing everything how or when I had hoped with my kids at this age.

What am I missing? This is the question I stick on. What can I do better, what haven't I already done, why am I spending so much time asking these questions when I should just be doing these things instead.

Restrospective hindsight reflections are killing my forward and confident parental progress.

Lord help me, I'm falling off the chair!

Metally awash with self pity I regress into a lethargy immersed lull of waning creativism.

I suck.

I dump my prospects of imagination, kick thoughts of happy self-playtime with my hobbies, and regress in creating memory making events with my kids.

Why can't I start each day with a bottle of liquid arrogance and hard-boiled confidence that allows so many other seemingly successful people to overlook their ineptitudes and insecurities?

Maybe all of this self doubt is coming from the fact that its the middle of Winter, a time that is normally a slump and we all catch a bit of cabin fever, and maybe I can blame it all on "Global Warming." Hey, it works for everyone else.

Yeah, that's it, I'll be like the favorite poem 'Sick' from Shell Siverstein: "What? What's that you say? You say today is Saturday? Goodbye! I'm going out to play!"

Will someone please shine some light in here and help me see the ladder out of this well that my confidence and low self image have thrown me deep into?

I think I see the ladder...

We all make our mistakes and learn from them, I just want to know that what I'm doing is right for my kids, that I won't have regrets when I look back from old age at these times, they they won't hate me for not doing the right things, that I'll somehow stunt their mental growth by not fostering more stimulus, that I'll be happy with me.

Only time will tell the eventual outcome from all of this, but, in the meantime, this "drive" is enough to keep me pushing on towards bettering our children.

jp

Jim and Joan announce engagement

On December 26th, 2007, Jim and Joan announced that they have decided to marry. The first engagement was possibly overheard by an eavesdropping neighbor during the actual proposal which was made in their hot tub, but this was the first public announcement.

When asked about a wedding date, the couple responded that they will be hosting a series of parties over the coming Summer, and at one randomly chosen event, they will perform the actual ceremony.

Here are the set of photos from the actual engagement announcement.

jp

More from San Juan, Puerto Rico

Time well spent

A quick trip back from Kentucky allowed us a brief visit with Grandpa Jim before he headed back to the East end of the state to get some much needed rest for the busy week ahead.

The kids loved seeing Grandpa (as they always do), and he was even nice enough to share his milkshake with the two of them.

Jocie, meanwhile, was having too much fun making a mess, shaking her head back and forth (something new she's doing these past few days), and cackling loudly at everything and everyone.

jp

What? You want me where?

It's 1:37am in the morning, and I'm stuck in the seemingly endless tunnel of yet another pointless conference call about something that happened on a computer system had started a trickle effect the blossomed into a hurricane of finger pointing and blame shuffling.

And yet, I'm pleasantly aware that I can take some "me time" in the middle of this long-distance multi-continented chaos to post about the goings on in my life over the past few days.

I missed a posting for Friday... yeah, I know, I blew it... but, really, I have an excuse!

Dad and I took a trip (one that I had begged for over the past years) and travelled down to Kentucky to visit my "cousins".

My family down there exists in a sort of mental blood relationship that lacks a real tree linkage but is cemented in a partnership of friendship that started between two men in their first year of college: Dad and Dale. Dale's sons, Al and Chris, are more my "cousins" than I'd ever imagined I could have, and I would give life and limb defeating any that quarrel this fact (that includes you, Clay... you know who you are).

An annual "Varmint Dinner" is hosted in the rustic town of Shelbyville, KY at which every sort of meal gracing back-yard animal is served in chefly style in a dish-to-pass format.

As my wife was so convinced, the term "varmint" does no justice to the actual dinner.

That which was served was worthy of the top percent of restaurants in any given large city: I would have spent more on these meals under the guise of a multistarred establishment than my neighbor does for their month old luxary car turned SUV.

Attendees of this occasion work for many long hours (even days in some circumstances) to craft a dish so stunning as to steal the thunder of neighboring entrees on the display table, and the competition is fierce.

This really is a feast for the curious yet fit for the pallet of the most discerning culinist (I think Joey would have found himself right at home).

And this, after a day spent searching the "back 80" for pheasant and quail in true sportsman fashion. Ok, so my cousin's father in-law Tom may not be so impressed with our methods of outdoors man (I think his exact analogy revolved around the picture of five hunters driving over to the edge of the neighboring cow pasture and shooting the nearest animal and praising our selves as the great providers that return home victorious after a Roman style victory) but, I really think he's just fighting a deep seated neanderthal urge to return to more primitive times where we eat with our hands tearing meat from limb like the true savages our spirit decries.

Come one in Tom, you're always welcome here.

Reminiscing from a recent NetFlix delivery named Elizabethtown, I must say that the environment there was the most warm that I could have ever imagined. I honestly felt like family that was returning home after a decades long separation. The thought of stowing away in the upper bedroom of the villa meets log cabin multiplied by late '70's ultra modern Better Homes and Gardens front page gracing hostel that we stayed in crossed my mind more than once.

Yet, here I am, typing away, as little voices in my ear talk about mitigation plans and responsibility graphs versus time lines.

Ahh, progress... I doth hate thee yet an intertwined with thine fate like a rose bush in a jungle.

Ouch.

jp

Doing homework with Joey

Last night, I had my most favorite annual training with the Fire Department: Ice Rescue Training!!! Yay! Honestly, folks, when else would you be able to jump in a local lake that is frozen over with ice and take a half-hour swim with your friends when its 16 degrees out and snowing? We do wear 'Mustang' suits which are the rescue service's equivalent of a dry-suit (SCUBA reference here), so I guess its kinda cheating in a way. Believe it or not, you actually get warm floating out there in the water... I know I do.

While I was at training, the girls (Jenny and Brooke) had an enchanting encounter with our son Joey....

Well after bedtime, ~8pm, the two homework-doers noted the discerning rustling sound that indicates that children-non-sleeping-after-parents-put-them-to-bed-ness so often encountered in that hour long period post lights out.

Yes, both Joey and Jess love to neglect the immediate sleep desires that their parents nightly attempt to enforce like chasing peas across your hibachi plate using chopsticks after a full helping of sake (not that I would know what that's like). Let's try this... its like having a plate of magnets and trying to organize them using a reverse polarized magnet: it just never connects. And so, they just never go to sleep at a decent time each night.

So, our nightly routine elongates itself on a very repetitious calendar, yet, I think we might actually enjoy it, even if it does create great stress while in the thick of it.

Last nights two hour excursion led the two slumber eluders into Joey's room, wherein Jess denoted that her "Princesses" were attempting to take a flight on Joey's Christmas gift from Grandpa Jim - a two foot long plane, of course - with a destination of 'Disney World.'

When told about the current predicament ("it is after your bedtime", "you need to go to sleep", "you're driving us nuts"... you name the nightly parental excuse - we all make up the same ones), Jess replied in a very defacto mannerism that they were interrupting her now already in-progress flight and that they'd need to wait untill post Disney arrival before she'd even allow the possibility of a return to her room.

So, somehow that situation was mitigated by the Brooke and Jenny, and Joey and Jess were settled into their rooms in the hope that they would stay there and sleep.

A quiet and uninterrupted half-hour passes.

Joey arrives in the living room - as if out of nowhere, I'm sure, as he has a way of silently stalking you and then just running up and making a blazen statement while you're bewildered with the shock of his presence with assuaging reasoning of something like: "My fire boat just fell off my bed, and... I was getting it and I realized that I was thirsty, so I got something to drink, and my blankie was not in my bed, so I got it, and... and.. I just thought I tell you that... I love you. Good night'. And like that, he usually just disappears back into the darkness of the ascending stairs and goes back to sleep without further ado.

But, this was not the case last night.

Now, remember, all this is coming second hand from both Jenny and Brooke, so, I might missing some details, but, I've laughed about this since hearing it, so here it goes...

At initial arrival, Joey's nightly statement this evening was that 'he was hungry.' Not too surprising, as both he and his elder sister seem to defer dining at the family dinner table each evening by opting to torment the rest of us with a continual stream of reflective statements about what one did to the other, or about this magic ability they both have to just know that they aren't going to like a particular food just by visual inspection, or with Jessamyn's constant inability to sit still at the table - she always slips down or off to the side of the chair before announcing the infraction, or the now every night Joeyism of: "oh, it's time to eat and now I need to state to everyone that I have to go potty".

Needless to say, this script of actions prevents the actual proper intake of sustenance by each inmate, and thus results in a late-night request for food (something they hope they'll like better than what they should have eaten at the dinner table, like fruit snacks or a granola bar) at the point of tucking them into bed and saying 'good night.'

Jenny was able to assuage his desires by immediately producing an apple that had been earlier placed in her book back in case she felt the need while at class.

Munch... munch... munch...

"Oh... I'm thirsty.... Don't worry, I'll get it myself."

An almost elven looking figure of our child, acting adult, takes himself into the bathroom to grab a stool which is then used to assist with a mountaineer-like climb onto the counter by which access to the glass storing cupboard is made. He procured a glass that was then half-filled with freshly gotten water from the refrigerator's allocation device.

He returns to sit with the two elder students still engrossed in their studies.

He eats a little more.

Munch... munch... sip... munch... spill

"Oops. I spill-ed some of my water. Don't worry, I'll clean it up."

He again returns to the kitchen, fetches a paper towel, even though his mother had advised him to grab the "blue" towel from the handle of the stove, and returns to the living room.

He cleans his mess up.

"What are you guys doing?"

"We're doing our home work."

"Oh.... I wanna cuddle."

So, he takes what remains of his apple, the paper towel used to clean up his mess with, and his empty glass to the kitchen, throws the apple and towel away and places the glass next to the sink. Such a good boy!

After a few minutes of cuddling at Jenny's feet, he sits bolt upright and states:

"Ok, I'm done cuddling now."

He then starts reciting his own version of the 'Doe, Ray, Me' song most of us remember from the 'Sound of Music', but he's been working on at school. Although, out of order, he gets the melody right 'Doe and deer, ray a drop of sun, doe ray me.'

When asked what he was doing, the following objection was voiced:

"Shh, I'm doing my homework!!" he states tersely.

And he proceedes again with working on his song.

Jenny interjects: "I really must speak with Mrs. Kelpin about this homework she has given you that keeps you up past 9pm."

He keeps working on his "homework."

"Ok, I'm done with my homework now. I beat you guys. I'm done with my homework before you two are."

And with that, he heads up to bed, not to be heard from again 'till morning.

Of course, I missed all of this, but a very jubilant Jenny and Brooke shared every detail with me.

jp

No swimming at the lake today

Ok, so maybe I'm fishing for a reason to make a posting today, but, I felt the need to state the obvious. This is a little state park just a couple of blocks from our house (we actually live on a small peninsula that juts into the middle of this lake, and this park is at one point of that peninsula).

This time of year, this park is almost packed with ice fishermen and people out enjoying the ice (really? you think. yeah, believe it or not, there are motorcycle races, sledding fun, and snowmobiles out on the lake on a daily basis). As the ice has just formed in the past few days, it is too thin to venture out on, so this place looks like an odd ghost town on a day when the temperature was 4 degrees Fahrenheit.

Its too cold to do much of anything, save for driving our kids around to their various activities on this day. Normally, we'd grab the dogs and head out for a walk ourselves. This is a most beautiful place to go in the Winter. You can walk for miles in each direction and still run into lots of other people doing the same thing.

But, no swimming at the lake today... or much of anything, for that matter.

jp

An Afternoon with Dr. King

Having a few spare moments on my lunch hour, I decided to take some time today to honor the memory of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

The almost surrealistic lighting of the sun reaching through the clouds to pour its rays upon Dr. King's statue lead to some amazing shots.

jp

A Cold Winter's Day at Milham Park

With single digit temperatures this morning, I opted to take a quick stroll in a park that I pass every morning after dropping Jess off at school. Kalamazoo's Milham Park has a long history (once the site of an amusement park, then a large zoo, a major local concert venue, and many more) and is always a beautiful place to visit any time of the year. It's also a must for photographers (I've shot engagement photos and wedding shots here in the past) given the geography, bridges, stone clad walls, and animals.

Save for some early morning foot prints from someone talking their dog for a walk, I was the first to venture here on this day. Here are some shots, hope you enjoy.

jp

Joey receives "Duck Blankie v5.0"

Grandma Mimi again works her magic to bring Joey's first "blankie" back to life.

V1.0 - Fresh from Aunt Clarice, this was Joey's from birth to about two years of age, by which time it had been ripped.
V2.0 - Repaired the major rip in it, and lasted for about 6 months before wearing through again.
V3.0 - The main part of the rip was removed, and the blanket was reduced in size.
V4.0 - As the blanket was worn threadbare, Jenny suggested using a backing of similar fabric (the original fabric could never be located, I found a non-flannel version of the same print from a lady on the lake shore of MI - of all places). So, a two sided blankie was developed one of the original and the other side of the new fabric.
V5.0 - The previous version only lasted a few months before again ripping. This version is folded in half and sewn together.

Joey's first coment was "I can't open it" as the blanket looks like its folded together.

A very happy four year old and his "blankie" are now reunited.

jp

Sledding with Jessamyn

Hat all askew, sitting in the back seat of the bus, the only girl on a sled ful of boys, here's Jessamyn on a sled she had barged her way onto by walking right up in front of a hesitant line leader and climbing on.

She'd missed the previous day's sledding activities due to an oversight by the teaching staff about a second bag that had accompanied her to school which had her sledding pants (she was devastated), so she had to make up for it by getting a few extra runs in.

I must say, I was very impressed by her exuberant attitude about the whole situation. Maybe a tad on the agressive side, she has no fear of man, beast, or situation. She just jumpes right in and goes after what ever she wants.

Don't we all wish we could have the mind of a three year old?

jp

House fire rips through Kalamazoo home

Kalamazoo, MI - At approximately 8:30 am on Thursday, January 17, the Kalamazoo Department of Public Safety responded to a report of a possible house fire in the area of Bronson and Whites roads. First arriving officers reported a structure fully involved with flames showing at multiple locations on the front of the house. Extensive overhaul and salvage operations were needed to contain and extinguish the fire that left part of a single family home gutted.

jp

Let is Snow!!!

Its snowing out side, so I'm happy.

There is just something about the visual change that the white blanket of snow makes that affects my emotions... I really do love it when it snows.

Now, I'm not talking about flurries or just light snow, but that classic blizzard type of snow most often associated with Currier and Ives. I don't like flurries (it lacks commitment), I don't like slush (too darned messy), freezing rain I don't mind (it looks pretty on the trees) as long as my car is in the garage, but snow... just plain white snow is an amazing thing.

The change is seasons is as necessary to my sanity as salted water is for the creatures who live in our world's oceans.

Maybe its the isolation?

I remember being a kid and loving to sit and stare at the snow coming down from our farm house's bay window. The joy that I had knowing how much fun I was about to have going out, playing in it, making forts, wallowing around in it, made me quiver with excitement. It was this amazing change to our landscape: hills and valleys came out of nowhere, an amazing construction project of titanic proportion would be undertaken by nature's own hand in a manner of hours transforming a bland lanscape into a wild fantasyland. I could dig in it, I could tunnel, I could build masions, I could form whatever I wanted, and unlike in the Summer months, I wouldn't be scolded for all my messes in the back yard (contrast this with the time I decided it'd be a fun time to dig a huge hole in the back hard, fill it with water, and float around in my inflatable boat... mom wasn't too happy with me that day).

Later, in my teens, snow was my solace, my peace, my individualism. Snow meant I could go skiing and be at one with just myself. I had my isolation there again, riding the ski lift, meandering down the hill at my own pace. Just being me. Six days a week, provided my valuable snow was still there, I would either have the bus drop me off from school or get early in the morning to have mom drop me off me off at the "slopes". I'd stay 'till closing. Most of the time, I was out on the hill (we didn't have much money, so I couldn't afford to gorge out on food all the time like so many of my other peers would). Maybe I was just a 'loaner' or a 'recluse', but that time was mine.. all to myself. Rarely would I ski with friends (most of mine were just from school, and they didn't like winter sports anyways), and the resort I skied at (Holiday Hills in Traverse City) had outdoor speakers playing top 40 hits all day long. My memories of the music of my youth revolve around that place, and I get nostalgic every time I hear 'retro' 80's songs on the radio.

Today, the snow means time away from the yard, the pool, outdoor duties, the neighbors, the kids, and the warmth of the outside. Its a time for me to 'reset' my mind and priorities. I focus on my family, our house, cleaning up the messes made over the Summer (yes mom, I still make other messes as big as that hole in the back yard, but now they're mostly inside the house).

I think my kids are growing to love snow as much as I do. When they were young, the snow meant a time when they couldn't be outside (a baby just can't do much in a snow suit except get frustrated) and wasn't a time they liked much. As they grow older, though, the snowy outside is now becoming a winter wonderland for them. We're making snow forts, throwing snow balls, sledding, making "snow angels", playing with the dogs, and generally having fun for hours upon hours.

The snow fills my heart with a kind of inner peace and warmth. As I grow older, the things it brings to me have changed and are ever changing, yet each new page is as amazing as the previous one. I love it.

jp

The bear that got Jocie

Well, since it was Jocie's true first birthday on Sunday (January 13th, 2008), we decided to go and do something as a family, so, naturally we went to the place that most Midwestern families coagulate on a Sunday afternoon in the Winter when its cold and snowy outside... we went to the Mall.

After a brief yet festive luncheon, where the birthday girl out-ate everyone else at the table, we decided on a stroll to work of the extra calories that were consumed when I decided it was a good idea to purchase a large french fry from a place that slices the potatoes and fries them before your very eyes.

Someone, and I'm not naming names (but her initials are JP... wait, that doesn't give away much) decided it was a good idea to go and buy baby Jocie her first stuffed teddy bear (actually, I think she wanted a stuffed cat for her... but whos worried about details here... its my blog).

Now, being the fiscally responsible person that I am... well, that I wish I could be... I immediately tried to put the kibosh on that event, but was soon out voted by the two older offspring who over heard the 'Build-A-Bear' word and bolted to the store the instant we stepped off the elevator on the first floor.

I'm sure I could have handled the older two (the lure of the cookie place that we'd passed a few minutes prior would have been enough to redirect their instant desire to buy more clothes for their already burgeoning bear closets), but, a new voice started adding her say to the families current destination.

What? My one year old daughter thinks she can join in? Now? Just because she turned one?

Hrmppf.

Well, she took one look at all those teddy bears through the window at the store (darn them for their displays) and screamed pure joy and started rocking her self as if she could pull herself there on her own.

So, in we go. And I'm thinking to myself, she can't possibly find something she likes here, so, her indecision will save my financial (well, lets call it what it is... anti-social and anti-anything my wife wants to do) attitude. But, she has the gall to pick out a nice soft and pink teddy bear.

Go figure. Her... with something soft... and a teddy bear at that.

My wife had hoped for a kitty cat, but, I suppose the bear is just as much the same since its soft enough, and I'm sure our feline friends at home will welcome the respit from Jocie romping on them like a rugby player about to save their team from a last ditch goal.

jp