final words

final words, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

and just under the wire, the resolutions (oddly enough, not my sole journal entry this year. must have had a few secrets):

1) continue to pray; meditate when possible
2) get it together: throw shit away; organize what's left
3) exercise and eat right
4) get financial house in order: invest in retirement, kids' education

(just about the same every year, i know ....)

cutting things close

i'd hoped i'd have had time to mark a few baby milestones or trends in their own entries as they happened, but alas, events or priorities -- like sleep -- got in the way.

so i'll have to sum up, probably in reverse order:

1) the baby took to her first sippy cup on 13 december, as seen above. we washed what should well be our last baby bottle not long after.

2) the latter portion of 2012 was spent trying to find the secret solution to the terrible twos. (i think we thought we'd weathered it some time before he actually turned 2 last year. boy, was i wrong.)

let's see, i think we went punitive, via time-outs, vinegar spritzes (for more than verbal offenses, unfortunately), and incarceration via 3-foot-tall, locking baby gates.

we've also tried going -- and are again trying to be -- pro-active: good rest, vis a vis naps/a good night's sleep, good nutrition -- keeping up blood sugar with more than just three meals and, as we're trying today, more protein and produce and fewer carbs to reduce the maddening sugar crash -- and mental stimulation, through pre-school attendance, crafts and, lately, puzzles.

3) it won't be long before baby starts demanding equal time. this should be fun.

next year, don't forget

this ode to christmas songs is fun to promote on your social media.

two cents

as sat with the boy as he went to bed christmas eve, i whispered to him things he should say to the baby Jesus, "thank you" and "happy birthday" among them.

after i laid him in bed and walked to the living room, i began to anticipate his reaction to a tree surrounded by gifts.

then i began to weep, thinking about parents in newtown, conn., who probably had similar thoughts just two weeks ago for children who they'd never dreamed would no longer be with them by christmas.

i couldn't -- and can't -- imagine how great their grief must be if my own heart aches a little every day for these lost, lovely children.

christmas unwrapped

you'd think that with all the pictures and video and writing about the boy that i'd have posted something about his first two christmases, but you'd be wrong.

christmas 2011. the late, lamented
percussion set

ok, so a quick check of the social media reveals that i do have at least have a few pics. and at least one of the boy opening gifts, which was shot last year.

that said, there wasn't too much drama anyway, as he was not yet 2 and i think was more interested in ripping paper to shreds anyway.

the whole "receiving things as gifts," as i recall, was lost on him. once a present was opened and its contents revealed.

yeah, he had his toys, but he seemed sort of put on the spot as to what he was supposed to do next, like, "do they expect me to just start spontaneously playing with this stuff now? why are they giving me something else to open?"

plus, the baby had barely been with us a week, so he was probably still stunned. (i'm not sure he's over that, yet, to be truthful.)

this year, yeah. he gets it.

and frankly, once he got the big santa gift -- a wooden train track, which was also the first one he discovered -- we probably could have called it a day. he seemed amazed by it. it was as if he couldn't believe something so cool could be in his house.

gift from santa.

he seemed quite content with moving his trains around the track and checking out the intricacies of the little community the railway ran through.

but move on he did (with a little prodding from mom).


it didn't quite become then a race to open gift after gift after gift, but there was a constant fascination with, if not out and out larceny of, the toys his sister was receiving, as well.

fisher-price farm building kit.

i was, however, pleased that he was also not searching for the next thing to unwrap and that he seemed well-pleased and surprised with each revelation.

and once all the gifts had been opened, he settled down into the playing, which to me signaled that mama -- who endeavored mightily to find things she hoped would catch his fancy -- did the best job santa could have ever asked of his helpers.

(that, or this simply isn't the year he begins counting gifts and wondering "is that all?")

christmas eve

donut connection, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

commerce on the day before christmas, if you don't need to buy anything important, brings me a crazed joy.

late on the eve of christmas eve at our local kroger store, i saw a parking lot fairly teeming for a sunday night. where i might usually be one of maybe four cars on the lot, i was one of dozens.

the best way i could describe the atmosphere is "bustling." it was relatively crowded, but the patrons knew they were doing something crazy on a midnight grocery run, so there was this convivial sense of the absurd in the air.

i couldn't stop smiling at people and they couldn't stop laughing at themselves when i'd remark, "wow, this place is really hopping." (one woman's response: "all of the cool people are here.")

christmas music was playing on the radio today at the donut connection when i swung by to pick up some coffee and donuts for the newsroom.

i was chatty and amped up and ready to share cheer. luckily, the nice lady behind the counter seemed happy to have a happy customer, so the vibe stayed intact.

it took the better part of an hour to calm down and get down to business once i got to work.

one of my favorite parts of christmas eve is the effort by our reporters who take their leave after filing their stories to wish their colleagues a merry christmas.

i'm not sure what it is, but it always adds some kind of special magic to the day.

i remember september

and so does this guy, which makes me feel a little better.

still, it's sad that i continue to poke at the long-cold ashes of a promising football season gone up in flames.

happy birthday (this could be a problem)

lost amid all the hubbub surrounding the holidays, our baby girl celebrated her first birthday sunday.

i hope this isn't indicative of the kind of treatment her birthday will receive in the future.

i already feel as though the munchkin already gets the short end of my attention, but as far as documenting the miracle of her first year goes, i believe i've been woefully slack.

(contrast to her older brother, who pretty much had a solid year's worth of entries by the time he turned one.)

her big day began with skipped naps by both her and her brother, followed by a birthday brunch that included a visit from santa. lucky girl.

(and here, i will interject that her mama, in order to make her daughter's day extra special,taught herself how to make both cake and icing from scratch -- and learn to decorate on the fly. how she put this all on herself i will never know.)

neither child ate particularly well. and their lack of naps was beginning to show. they were kind of manic, with a little crankiness thrown in for things they didn't want to do.

she did, though, get "happy birthday" sung to her twice. the first was by the family, under the music being played in the dining room.

the second came with the accompaniment seen above, when the pianist saw that i'd lit a candle for the baby. it made for good theater.

(it wasn't her real birthday cupcake. she'd played with the icing on another one a few minutes before. i just wanted a photo of her and a cupcake with the candle lit.)

we hit the road around three, hoping to make it home in time for 5 o'clock mass. not 15 minutes into the drive, both children were asleep.

given that everyone's sleep was so fitful that night -- we'd all shared a bed -- kris and i thought it important that the kids got in a nice, long nap.

as it turned out, it was almost two hours -- and we missed mass.

baby has a birthday blessing coming to her. and a lot more.

festive

snowflake, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

the house is in even more disarray than usual. my beautiful wife is harried. my darling boy is vibrating. and only my baby girl is placid.

welcome to christmas at our house.

kris has been a dervish of preparation -- shopping, decorating, baking and scheduling. (on top of planning for baby's first birthday last sunday. all this, and putting out fires as "mom.")

me? i'm just trying do my best to await orders and do what i'm told. you know, be useful.

the boy seems to be the one enjoying this season in the way that most folks remember or imagine or wish they did -- full on, to the hilt, no worries.

he's really got his christmas on.

witness:



from his first school program last night (that's him on the right in the back), to sitting on santa's lap, even to a raucous party (where his pants fall down), he's having the time of his life. it is the child's christmas of your fondest dreams.

this is the stuff that becomes the hazy, wistful memory you wish to recapture when you're older. he's full of glee (sometimes manic), anticipation and wonder in probably the most guileless way he'll ever experience it.

us. christmas 2012.

he's making his memory. and, thank the Lord, we're in a place where we can help him make a good one.

i'm past the point where i wish for specific things for christmas. and i'm not going to lie -- keeping up with two children and all the holiday busy-ness on top of our daily responsibilities has been taxing and stressful.

but at the same time, life, as it's being unwrapped every day, right now, has been a christmas gift that i wouldn't trade for the world.

all aboard

one in a long line, if you'll pardon the pun, of spatial arrangements the boy
has been fond of this year.

the cars are coupling and the boy's mind is on the track. his imagination, it seems, is leaving the station.

this week, he's begun making up stories and scenarios featuring the denizens of his toy collection, books and videos doing, well, whatever. he's been particularly fond of re-purposing dialogue from stories and movies.

at the moment, he has a recurring character who lurks in our collective periphery: a dragon. it's not necessarily malicious so much as overbearing and ubiquitous.

the other day, he regaled kris' bag boy at the kroger store about the critter outside the supermarket window, at one point urging, "hey, everybody, look!"

the dragon is in the closet, in the basement and in the front yard. apparently, it also knocked over the baby gate blocking the kitchen. (the boy's first fib, i think. or at least shifting of blame.)

(speaking of which, the boy also claimed upon awakening this week, that he had  gotten up in the middle of the night, gone to the potty and changed his own diaper. first tall tale, i think. or at least dream documentation.)

it's especially nice for kris and me, as this allows him to entertain himself for extended periods as he ad libs dialogue between himself and his figurines and anthropomorphic vehicles.

i don't think he's going to totally rid himself of "daddy, will you play with me?" any time soon, but it's nice that he's able to occupy himself long enough for kris and me to converse or just do something else unmolested.

we'll see where this train leads.

12.12.12

ooh, so close. (note the time of post. i cheated and posted a line first and edited in words and pictures afterward.)

this was another 12 i was fond of this year.

halftime of the maryland game. the boy in the background, also wearing no. 12,
was kind enough to toss back the boy's football when he threw his way.

herein ends my commemorative post on the last repeating date until 1 january 2101.

catch 22

purely illustrative. baby not a month old here.

the trend these past few months (wow, really?) has been one or both children requiring assistance in the middle of the night.

as the dude who goes to bed late, it then becomes the question of, why bother going to bed when you're going to be awakened by someone who needs your attention -- and likely within moments of your entering a deep sleep?

which leads to the second trend: getting back to sleep, especially in the wee, small hours of the morning.

as during bouts of insomnia -- when the knowledge that you need to sleep creates such a pressure to go to sleep that you can't sleep -- knowing that you have only a few hours before the toddler arises and needs your "help," aka, someone to play with, seems instead to make me toss and turn ... until you hit that sweet spot of wakefulness and slumber and then ... and then ... and then ... tip ever so gently back into sleep. deep, deep sleep.

and then it's time to get up.