A three year olds observations on pregnancy

Today, I had the wonderful lunchtime experience of having a nice one-on-one with my eldest daughter.

Prior to heading out, I stopped by to pick her up as she got out of school at 11:30am. One of Jess's teachers walked us out and informed me on all of the events that had happened that day. Jess wrote her name, sang some songs, played dress-up, had a great game of 'duck duck goose', played Bingo, a was delightfully inviting to a new girl on her first day.

Observing that the teacher was noticibly pregnant, I inquired about how far along she was.

"Oh, I've got about three weeks left."

I always enjoy striking up conversations with people that broaden my understanding of their personalities and strengthen our relationship. She told me she's feeling alot of movement from her baby boy. I mentioned that it probably feels like her little one is "trying to kick your ribs out" as Joey had tried to do to Jenny in the late months of her first pregnancy.

Not wanting to be left out of the conversation, Jess included her bit of insight about the situation.
"Yeah, she's really full... she's not hungry."

We all had a very good laugh at that, and pointed out to Jessamyn that there was a baby (just like her little sister Jocie was about 11 months three weeks ago) inside her.

"Oh, she's not full."

You have to love a three year olds perspectives sometimes.

jp

Cherry trees in the snow

I took a stroll with the dogs and Jess the other day, while visiting my parents, and found some lovely shots that I'll share here. Hope you like them, I know I do.
jp

The thumb suckers guild

Yeah, this really is our family in the early morning. The three huddled together in the morning sharing blankies and thumb sucking. Well, at least they've bonded together.

Why always the same thumb? Left. Always.

I've inquired from my son as to why he prefers his left, "it tastes better" he replied. He was even nice enough to try a right thumb taste-test to prove his theory, but to no avail, the left one wins every time.

With Jess I discussed the possibility of switching to fingers. She tried her pinkie, but said it just didn't "have the right texture."

What do we do.... we form the 'Thumb Suckers Guild'.

jp

Who pulled the plug in the Great Lakes?

The above picture was taken from a place that is normally under several feet of water. I've never been able to stand on this new island in the past 10+ years that my family has had their cottage on Grand Traverse Bay. These rocks are usually the source of much frustration for me, as I'm forever slipping on them, stubbing my toes, and cursing that they even exist as I try to swim out of the little channel that was hand dug over half a century ago.

This year, for the first time, they stick way way way out of the water, and my son and I were able to run around and throw snow balls at each other from from on top of them.

Trying to answer the question as to why the water levels are so low, I did some searching on NOAA's website, and found the following graph regarding the Great Lakes Water Basin. You can see that the last several years has seen a significant decline in the average water levels, as the average water level is well below the mean average.

Where is all the water going, I'm left to ask?

I've heard rumors that a recent dredging on the St. Claire river is to blame. I've also heard that the Chicago River is drawing more and more water to help keep a draught affected Mississippi river full enough that commercial shipping can remain functioning. Another theory states that the lakes run on a cycle within which the levels fluctuate over time, but maintain a mean level, as evidenced by the graph above.

None of the above listed answers can explain why the levels have remained so low for the past several years, though.

In doing some digging on the net, I found some other theories as provided by scientists.

According to researcher Cynthia Sellinger at the Great Lakes Environmental Research Laboratory in Ann Arbor, an arm of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, she states that "Since 1978, there's been a long-term decline in precipitation and a long-term increase in evaporation."

"What we have here is the ground is frozen, the water doesn't return," Sellinger said. "It puddles and evaporates and gets lost into the global system."

This would seem to make sense, given that in recent years, we've seen unprecedented warming trends in months that would normally be well below the freezing level.

In the past week, we've seen temperatures in South West Michigan in the '60's, which is extremely abnormal for January.

Last year, at about this same time, we saw a similar warming event, with neighbors of mine even wearing sandals to a local campfire get together.

I still remember the winter of '78 from my childhood. In pictures taken by my mother, a snow drift of over 10' can be seen our backyard, with a bunch of us kids making a snow fort inside it. Snows of that magnitude have not been a gift my children have had the wonderful experience to partake in.

Fog covered our environment here for several days last week, like something out of an eerie movie. This intense melting and evaporation would match the statements made by NOAA, but I'm still left to wonder....

will our grand lake waters ever return?

Although I find the facts given by NOAA interesting, I still am not entirely convinced that the source of the problem has been fully discovered. I plan to continue investigating and attempting to post any information I find back here.

jp

The day that Nassau burned

It's not often in life that you can be present when history is made, but every now and then something happens right in front of you that you just can't ignore.

Such is the case of a trip to Nassau, Bahamas back in the fall of 2001.

While staying at our time share, WestWind 1, we took a quick day trip over to 'Atlantis' to eat, play at the casino and do some sight seeing.

As we left the Paradise Island and crossed over the bridge towards the downtown area, we noted a faint plume of smoke from the downtown area.

The closer we got to the downtown area, the darker thicker the smoke got. Within the span of about five minutes from first seeing the plume, I took the first photo that you see here to the right.

The cause of the fire was fiercely debated in the local news papers, on radio, and in person by the natives. Some said accidental, some said arson, and a story about a fight between a mother and a son came out during which he threw something that was burning at her and caught her display on fire.

Now, the "straw market", as it had become to be know, was a Nassau tradition. A huge two story premise occupying several blocks of the prominent downtown landscape, the market was a makeshift mall where locals would sell hand made goods and knickknacks to the tourists who flocked here mostly by cruise ship but also from the local resorts and time shares. A walk through the market was an experience in pleasant harassment, as each vendor vied for the opportunity to "haggle" with you and try to sell you something, needed or not.

Being loaded with flammable materials (clothing, wood carvings, toys, towels, sheets, etc), the fire loading of this venue was extreme, and it lacked fire protection as would be mandated in similar state-side venues. The fire spread in a very rapid nature and quickly engulfed the entire venue.

An overwhelmed fire service was overloaded with an extremely large and dangerous fire that was progressing at lightning speed. Inadequate water flow to the downtown area meant that fire crews sat at their rigs with no water to affect change on the titanic devastation occurring in front of them.

While taking these photos, an engine pulled up behind (the picture seen at the left) and stayed there for several minutes. The driver and command officer stared at the horrific scene in front of them, knowing there was little if anything they could do. Citizens started yelling at them to do something. Sensing the frustration, they moved on towards the fire a mere half block away.

Most of the downtown area shares a similar architecture style as most of the buildings not only look alike but are built using the same materials. This was especially true for the wood shingled roofs of most of these buildings. Fire spread was devastating due to a gentle onshore breeze that gently spread embers from the market fire onto surrounding buildings.

Frustrated by the lack of response from the civil crews, citizens began banding into small groups of self-elected firefighters in an effort to try to stop the spread through outlying buildings. Grabbing a ladder of a contractor's construction truck, and dragging a garden hose from across the street, these would be hero's attempted to save a standalone structure, which would have been a logical choice since fire spread could only come through the roof as it had nothing attached on the sides.

By the time they were able to get to the top of this building, there was barely a trickle of water coming from it, and not nearly enough to combat the number of falling embers raining down from above.

This fire calamity raged as an unstoppable inferno for many hours through that day and into the night, with help only arriving after coast guard ships were able to pump in from the wharf that runs parallel to the downtown area.
Smoke from the fire could be seen throughout the island, as is seen in this picture taken from about 7 miles away from the downtown area.

In the days following the fire, more information surrounding the cause was discovered, and it was learned that a young man had intentionally set fire to part of the market.

The magnitude of damage extended not only to the straw market itself, but to buildings adjacent to it, and to many others that had wood shingled roofs. Many many businesses lost not only their storefronts but also the buildings that they had resided in.

This once great tourist destination would be torn down never to be rebuilt following the fire. Today, a tent covers this area with vendors again selling their goods in true Bahamian fashion inside. The palatial structure that existed previously is now only a faint memory.

The legacy of this pinnacle will live on only in memory.

As if feeling the need to compete against man's devastation that day, mother nature decided to create a waterspout just off shore from Nassau. Lasting only for a few minutes, it was a marvel to watch and see on this most emotionally draining day.

It is also sad to think that all this took place only a few short days before another, more massive tragedy would take place in the United States. The Nassau fire was September 4th, 2001, a mere 7 days from the terrorist attacks that took place 9/11/01.

jp

A jewel in the back seat

Our eldest daughter, now three and a half, decided that this morning would be the perfect time to wage protest to the "Mommy Committee" that she would like a different transportation arrangement.

"Mommy?"

"...yes"

"I don't want daddy to drive me to school anymore. I want you to."

Thinking quickly, something my wife is most excellent at, she retorted: "But, I think daddy likes driving you to school sweetheart. How 'bout I walk you out to daddy's car."

And just like that, an issue as seemingly critical as the cessation of violence in the West Bank was put to rest, and a happy mother and daughter marched out the front door.

As is common in our morning routine, my wife and I kiss before parting, but, as this was a cold morning, I had already gotten into the front seat and closed the door before remembering our habit. So, being cute, my wife stepped up on the running board of my truck and leaned in through an open window to give our parting gift.

At the end of the drive way, I hear the voice from my back seat saying "but I didn't get to say 'bye' to mommy... I want the window down". Down the window goes and a high pitched three year old shrill "bye mommy!" is ejected.

I attempt to roll the window back up, but am immediately greeted with: "no, daddy, I want the window down."

I attempt to advise her that it was cold (31 degrees to be exact) this morning and that the window should be up, and attempted to roll it up.

"UNRHHP!! I WANT THE WINDOW BACK DOWN!"

Not wanting the already escalated situation to wax any further, I give in.

She happily waved her hand out the window, and I am increasingly aware that my ear is starting to get numb from the cold air that is blowing in through her window, around the back of the truck, and right up to it.

I turn the heat up a little higher to compensate.

I make sure I'm doing EXACTLY the speed limit and secretly hoping at the same time that I don't hit any red lights on the way in an effort to maximize the discomfort level of the offending protagonist that forced the frigid situation on the me in the first place.

Our morning travels are typically much more amicable with conversations about where we're going, what color the house is we just passed, why I should allow her to fill my tank with gas again, or that I really should get a car wash since my vehicle is 'very dirty' - whether true or not.
But, this flagrant disregard for obvious improper climatic abuse is something I'd only expect out of this specific daughter. My son would never consider this. After 30 seconds of similar punishment, he'd have begged for the window to be put back up. But not her. She's like a bull running headstrong through a crowd, and far be it for anyone to disagree with her about anything, for she will drive on - right or wrong.

I try again to affect change on the current situation.

"Honey, it's really cold outside and daddy is freezing. Can I please roll the window up?"

Oh boy....

Said ever so sweetly and making me feel crazy for even suggesting such a thing, I get....

"It's not cold out, its warm out. Its nice and warm and not windy. It's sunny. I like this."

"But, I'm really cold."

"No you're not."

As if it's not enough to tell me what I'm not feeling, she decides to strip me of everything that I am...

"stop talking. you're not my daddy. you're not mommy's husband. you're not my favorite any more. you're not putting my window up and you're not here."

Silence.

Normally, I try to win these battles, but, as she gets older, they seem to be harder and harder to win. Who ever thought it was easy being a parent hasn't spent much time with their own prodigy in intellectual debates that come from some of the most simple obersvations.

I pout. I tell her that I am her daddy and that I still love her.

"Oh, you're right, you're my daddy."

Phew, negotiated my way out of that one.

By now, we're about 15 minutes into our morning drive, and through all 15 minutes her window has been fully rolled down.

I slow to the light just a block away from her school.

"Daddy, I think I want my window up now."

As if needing to justify the request and make it seem like she's not giving in, she adds...

"but, just because I can't see out of the window."

I roll the window up, and she stops me at about 1/2 way.

"That's enough daddy."

The left turn lane gets a green arrow as we still wait at our red light. We used to spend this time joshing each other about what the different street light colors meant - "red means stop", "green means go", "yellow means slow down". I'd often try changing the different actions with the colors, only to be harshly corrected: "No daddy, you're wrong, red means stop!" I've also spent the better part of 3 months worth of playing different male princes seen in all of her favorite Disney princess movies. I'm regularly "Prince Phillip", "Prince Charming", "Prince Eric", or even "The Beast". But, not this morning.

"Ahmm, actually, I think I want my window all the way up."

Up it goes.

"Daddy?"

I hesitate, worrying some other demand is about to be waged, but, we're only a block away.

"Yes, honey?"

"I love you."

Ahh, and just like that, all the pain in my left ear, the freezing legs I have, the heat blasting the other side of my face, and the potential loss of yet another argument to my daughter are assuaged by a simple three word statement.

We pull up outside her school, and I jump out and run over to pull her out and walk her in, as is our morning tradition, much to the frustration of the droves of parents in cars that form a singular line for the drop the morning drop off.

"Daddy, the bear is going to throw me away in the garbage."

"What bear?"

"His name is in the movie."

"Well, you tell him 'no to'".

I long ago started the accidental tradition of the kids saying 'not to' instead of actually negotiating against the pending outcome. I'm sure it was in response to something like: "Daddy, the doggy licked my face." "Well, you tell him not to." And she took it literally. "NOT TO!"

"But, if I tell him 'not to', he'll just eat me instead."

"How 'bout we tell the bear to just focus on eating honey instead."

"ok."

jp

I just had to find an excuse to post this picture of a "bridge to nowhere."