Nativity

This most wonderful time of the year is made so because of the birth of our Savior. I am grateful for the spirit of the season, which encourages all of us to reflect more on Jesus Christ and how we can live worthy of Him. Among the many thoughts and images that scatter through my mind during Christmastime are ones that, taken together, create a beautiful and compelling scene.

The Gospel of Luke is full of tender, moving descriptions of Christ's humble birth. I think of Mary and Joseph struggling to find a place to deliver Jesus. I think of the shepherds in the fields, who must have been rendered speechless by the angel's appearance and announcement that our Savior had been born.

There is so much more to think and ponder about the nativity. The verse in Luke that "Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart" is sublime. For its mystery, its touching image of a mother thinking about her newborn son, for its simple beauty, this has always been one my favorite scriptures.

In these moments, my thoughts turn to images taking place far from the stable, the animals, and the nervous young parents of the Son of Man. What other signs attended the birth of Jesus? Wonders in the heavens. Could the heavens have looked like this at the transcendant moment? So clear, so bright, so serene, and so humbling. When I saw this photo online recently, I thought to myself, "The universe must have welcomed the baby Jesus with a display like this."

I also think that our Father in Heaven might have allowed all of us, in some capacity, to witness His birth. With what boundless joy must we all have celebrated His unique journey into mortality. With what longing must we have desired to join Him then. There were shouts of joy on earth and in heaven, and I like to think that the numberless stars and worlds in our infinite universe shined and gleamed to welcome God's only begotten Son to his mortal home, where He would perform equally numberless acts of charity, mercy, and salvation.

It's a Boy!

This is late news for those Timbeck4 readers who aren't on Facebook. But we're very excited to report that we have bucked the trend by having our third child not be the same gender as our first two. My friend James (father of three young girls) told me on Sunday with a tinge of jealousy that the odds of having a 3rd girl after two girls is 80%. Not sure, but we are delighted that we'll be having a third child, regardless of the gender.

I was fortunate to spend the morning with Becky and our girls for the long doctor's appointment. Our oldest girl was really hoping for a baby sister, so her reaction was somewhat muted once we heard it was a boy. Becky cried tears of joy, and is now anxious about what to do with a son. The Mouse? Well, she's been telling people that "baby brother" is in Mommy's tummy, so she's definitely tuned in to the news.

As for me, friends and colleagues have said various things, mostly along the lines of "You must be walking on air. Finally, a son!" Well, it hasn't really sunk in yet, not even when I say, "I'm having a son." I was to the point of expecting a third girl that I was excited for another daughter; we even had a very nice name selected. And for all of the well-meaning and kind comments about taking him to baseball games and indoctrinating him into "Star Wars," right now, that's so far in the future that it doesn't resonate or add to my excitement about having a boy. I'm just delighted to know he's healthy, and that we'll have a little boy. Just keeping it simple, I guess.

Maybe I'm sub-consciously not trying to favor him, or put expectations on him (he may despise the national pastime and regard "Star Wars" with undisguised loathing, for all we know!) My daughters are special to me. The daddy-daughter relationship is sacred, and I want to value special things with Goose and Mouse with the same approach that I envision taking with my little boy. I want to place equal footing on Goose's piano and Mouse's dancing (how about that for some wild gender-role defining?!) [or their soccer, or reading, or whatever] as our boy's frog-collecting or what have you.

Does this even make sense? Or am I rambling? I guess I just don't want to swell my head focusing on the father-son dynamic at the expense of the cute, cool, and equally important things that our daughters are and will be interested in.

***
Switching gears...Our oldest girl is Goose. Our second daughter is Mouse. Naturally, you may wonder, "What will baby #3's nickname be?" I thought about that for a bit, and so far, his nickname is:

Moose! Taking the sound of "Goose" and most of the spelling of "Mouse," of course. I'm not really hip on it, and we'll probably come up with something better soon. But for now, we'll refer to him as Moose.

The start of Christmastime!

Each year since Timbeck4 debuted as a blog, I've written one post titled "The start of Christmastime!" It's one of the posts I look forward to most, because I know it's one that will always make an annual appearance; I can count on it, so I spend some time prior to posting it looking for a photo that captures the spirit of our family at this beautiful season.

2010: At The Enchanted Village!

Here is a quick recap of previous Start of Christmastime posts: 2007, 2008, and 2009.

It is fun and humbling to look back on those posts; to recall those earlier stages of our girls' lives and to remember things we did each year at Christmas. As cute as those earlier years were, both Goose and Mouse understand the essential spiritual aspects of Christmas (they know that it celebrates Jesus' birth, they hear and can tell us some of the story of the Nativity, etc.) and are excited for the secular side as well (Santa and presents, watching Christmas movies). This year is really the first time when Christmas has been magical for our girls, and for us. In some ways, it is just what I always dreamed that Christmas would look, sound, and feel like when, in those now long-ago years before children came into our lives, my mind drifted to Christmases of the future. The reality in some ways is even more priceless than those mental images I conjured up.

We are also trying to focus more on our Savior's birth, and place that pivotal moment at the center of our family Christmas activities. We watch "The Nativity Story" each year, read a Scripture passage (this year's Ensign issue had a cool kids activity to help them read and understand the moving descriptions found in the Gospel of Luke), and in general think about Jesus Christ more.  

Work Christmas party

Last Thursday night, Timo's office had their Christmas (um, make that "holiday") party. It was a blast! I've been at my job for 10 years now, and this Christmas party was in the top 2 (last year's was trivia night, and I was on the winning team, so it's hard to beat that). We had a Vegas casino night with fake chips and fake money, and spouses were invited so I was thrilled to have Becky join me and have my co-workers meet her. One colleague described Becky as "adorable" and "a real pistol."

We have never gambled on real money, and have no intention of starting. We also didn't know how to play many of the games, but the casino staff taught us Texas Hold 'Em and Roulette, a little. I absolutely cleaned the house at Texas Hold 'Em (the photo above is me and my boss's boyfriend, right before I won an obscene pile of chips.) It was fun to get out with Becky and spend time outside of work with my colleagues.

Tiny Dancer

Our Little Mouse recently earned enough stickers on her helping-out chart to win a surprise: her very own tap shoes, and her big sister's dance dress, which Goose has outgrown. Here she is, striking some cute poses. She isn't old enough to be in the weekly dance class that we like, but perhaps in the spring we'll get her in one in the area. She also loves to have Daddy "swing" her around the kitchen or living room in my arms, spinning in a circle under Mouse yells out, "I'm busy!" which is her version of "I'm dizzy!"

(Note: please overlook/disregard the atrocious tiles on our kitchen floor. They're high on the list of next home renovations, now that our bathroom is done.)

Raking leaves

It's fun to look at pictures like the one at top of me as a little boy.  My dad took many, many photos of me and my family when I was growing up.  Part of it was his abiding love of photography, and part of it was his equally deep interest in preserving family moments, which continues to this day. 

And now, to live in the moment and see my own children doing some of the same things I remember (or have pictures of) doing, is an awesome treat.  Here is Our Dear Goose helping to rake leaves at Nana's house (in the same backyard where the top photo was taken.)  She did a good job, for about 5 minutes' work! 

Our little helper

Here is Our Dear Goose, in her first go at vacuuming. She tackled the living room floor, which is apt since she and her little sister spend a good deal of time each day cluttering, running across, and stomping on it. 

I've been thinking that she's now old enough to start doing some simple household chores. This proves it. The girl is ready. She loves to help out, especially now that she knows we've got another baby on the way. I was also thinking that she could bring in the garbage and recycling bins from outside, under Becky's supervision (the bins are collected usually around or just after the time I leave for work in the morning). Goose is a take-charge personality, and it's a good time that we start finding constructive ways for her to channel it and help us out.

I also look forward to a time when we can learn a new skill side-by-side. That seems like a good daddy- daughter experience.  

The last few weeks

Life has been insanely busy (in a lot of good ways) since we last posted with news about Baby #3.  There were holidays, a back yard that needed repeated leaf-raking, several Saturdays at Nana and Bumpa's place, and colds.  I feel like the days have zipped by since our last post.  Timo's work has also picked up at a tremendous clip of late, which is also a good feeling.  I could post photos to back all of this up.  Instead, here are just a select few to show the fun that we've been having:

Goose learning a new skill.  She kept ramming the vacuum against our 100+-year-old floorboards,

but loved helping out!

Speaking of love...here's Mouse at the Wilson family favorite, Friendly's:

And in another note about love:

My wife, the one who keeps our family going and happy.

Putting the 3 in "Timbeck3"

Do you notice something on our "Things we're thankful for" poster? That's right...we're adding a new spin on Timbeck3, and this time, three signifies baby #3! 

We started this blog about a month before our oldest girl was born, when it was just me and Becky, and chose the number three for the blog title since we'd soon be a family of three. Now, three-and-a-half years later, we're going to be a family of 5, with 3 little ones.

And we're thrilled. The littlest one will join us in late May. We'll find out next month if the baby is another girl--which would be awesome, since we love girls, and we have the clothes, toys, and two bigger sisters who are excited to be little mommies--or if we'll get a change-up and have a little boy this time. And after one child who looks a lot like Becky, and one child who looks very much like me, we wonder which of us this baby will more closely resemble. Becky is just glad that the first tri-mester is over! 

Stay tuned for more details on kiddo #3...

"Act of grace"

U2 is one of my favorite bands (with Simon and Garfunkel). In a tale about U2 from a few years ago, Bono received a binder of lyrics from a fan--lyrics that Bono had poured his heart into way back in 1981 for their eventual second album, the very not-in-favor October. That binder, with all of those lyrics, was lost before the band could record, so October's songs were rewritten and recorded against deadline. 

In 2003, after years of Bono making pleas to get his songs back, a fan found the binder of lyrics in an attic and, after a year of trying to contact the band about it, returned the folder to Bono in 2004. Bono called the lyrics' recovery "an act of grace." Ever since hearing this story, I've loved that expression: act of grace.

What does this have to do with me?

You might recall that a few months back, I somehow lost pages of diaries I had kept on my computer, one diary for each of our girls, when I was moving the files off my old and onto my new laptop. It agonized me for a week to know that countless hours of work and memory were gone. I mourned losing records of when our girls did and said things (yes, there is this blog, but it does not capture all I had written), how Becky was faring as a new mom, how I felt about being a new dad, etc. Prayers went up for the documents to come back, or for my personal memory to be jogged so I could re-remember things and write them down (again).

Today, inexplicably, through nothing I did, on my flash drive...

Both journals, recovered, and complete. My jaw literally fell open for a minute. You better believe that I immediately printed all 25 pages and saved them to an online storage site. Specific moments  and memories restored. Descriptions of feelings that I felt. A fuller picture of beautiful experiences with our little girls. Prayers answered.   

An act of grace.

Veterans Day

A veteran of the Spanish-American War.

Happy Veterans Day!  I am grateful for the service and sacrifice of our nation's veterans for our country, its allies, and future generations.  Veterans who endured hardships and gave their lives so that our nation's citizens would enjoy a greater degree of liberty.

Last month, while in a beautiful cemetery near our home, my girls and I ran through the leaves.  Their peels of laughter were the only sounds that broke the serenity of that calm, cloudy Sunday morning.  American flags decorated the gravestones in a few sections of the cemetery dedicated to holding the remains of veterans.

As my girls danced around and I walked among the headstones, my mind wandered to scenes from newsreels and my own imagination about the last moments of veterans' lives.  In many, many instances, the veterans interred at that cemetery, in others across this country of ours, and in still others far from home around the globe, were younger than I am when they paid the ultimate price for freedom.  For the too many times I take my own security and liberty for granted, I felt unworthy of their sacrifice.  

A famous person once remarked, "Words are too futile, too feeble."  My own sense of gratitude--thank you, veterans--feels like that quote.  I pledge to teach my own children about these veterans' sacrifices, done so that millions of people--here and abroad, whom they would never know--would be able to live, worship, love, travel, and learn in a time of freedom.

Inconsistency

Who could believe this little girl, with her soft voice and quiet demeanor, would be capable of outbursts such as:

• Screaming "No! Go away!" to any other kid, including much bigger ones, who dared venture near her kitchen play table.

• ...Only to be followed later that same day with a louder, shriller, "I told you, Go AWAY!" to her big sister at a mall in front of onlookers.

She is often slow to anger, so I think Becky was taken aback by how loudly and firmly Mouse raised her objections.  It is sort of cute-but-not-really (for me, which doesn't help) to hear this little voice rising in indignation at perceived slights.  Only a matter of time before that vitriol is directed at me!

One Halloween, many costumes

Costumes #1: Princesses, off to trick or treat at our sweet neighbors' houses on Halloween night.  Our elderly neighbor Arthur said he went out to buy candy specifically for our girls.  How could we not go visit him?

Costumes #2: Goose as the mouse princess, and Mouse as a bee.  Note: Goose fit into the bee costume for her very first Halloween...when she was 7 months old in 2007.  Mouse, at 24 months old, fit snugly into same said costume.

I think Goose is dressed incorrectly for her real character, "The Boston Strangler."

All you out-of-towners, look it up; he was real, and not some creative joke on this author's part.



Mouse putting the M-O-U-S-E in mouse.  Full disclosure note: I nearly wet myself laughing so hard when Mouse came downstairs on Friday afternoon before Halloween sporting this cute outfit.

Out with Princess Mommy, Prince Daddy, and Nana and Bumpa (their East Coast grandparents) at our tri-ward Trunk or Treat, Saturday night before Halloween.

It's safe to say that 2010 was the year when our girls "got" Halloween more, frights and candy and all.  They dug the matching costumes, loved the candy, and looked darling.  It was a Halloween weekend to remember.

Music for driving

As Chief Creative Officer of Timbeck3, I am sidetracking from posts on our adorable girls and my excellent wife for a personal privilege. On Friday last week, Becky was sick. We had all been dealing with colds and coughs for the week (except for Goose). I took Friday off so Becky could relax and rest in total comfort and peace.

That afternoon, I took my girls to Nana and Bumpa's house. They would stay for an overnighter...which turned into a full weekend at the grandparents' place when I returned home Friday night with the exact same cold that Becky had. Three cheers and a bottle of Aspirin for my parents for taking our girls all weekend, half of it unexpected.

Anyhow, on the drive down, both girls concked out quickly. I shut off the Raffi and the other kid songs and twirled around the radio, trying to find music I actually like and enjoy for the 45-minute trek (which I extended by another 40 minutes to let them sleep). Will there ever be a day when rap and R&B are no longer popular?

In a Bill Bryson-esque approach to writing (that is to say, lazy--wait for material to come to you, instead of find it yourself) I thought it would be fun to capture the songs I heard, and their resonance in my own life.

I Got a Name, by Jim Croce. This song reminds me of fall.
Also, as I've mentioned before, '90s grunge band Stone Temple Pilots used this song's guitar riff, electrified it, and put it in their seminal (and Timo favorite) "Interstate Love Song," which also came out in a pivotal year of my life (1994), when I left for college. I remember thinking, "Finally, there is music out today that speaks to me," instead of the garbage collection of pop, rap, and R&B of the mid-1990s. Croce himself is one of my favorite singer-songwriters. What else would he have done had he not died young?

Feel Like Makin' Love, by Bad Company. I'm not even going to start commenting on this particular song.

Suffice to say, I loved Bad Company in high school. "Shooting Star" is my favorite in their catalog, and reminds me of driving around the back roads of nearby towns skipping track practice after school with a friend in a blue pick-up truck.

I Remember You, by Skid Row. This took me instantly back to late 1989, just as the '80s were drawing to a close. It was the first full decade of my life. At the time, I loved the '80s and thought that culturally and historically, nothing would ever equal that decade. "Back to the Future," the fall of the Berlin Wall, "Top Gun," my crushes on actresses Lea Thompson and Elisabeth Shue (I was supremely delighted to see 'em both in "Back to the Future Part II," which Becky and I watched last week. Save yourself two hours and don't ever see it again).

This song also took me back to junior high school dances in our darkened school cafeteria, where I spent more time waiting for "the right moment, the right song" to ask my crush of the moment to dance, instead of actually just asking her any old time. I passed much of the time arm-wrestling in a corner with other guy friends who no doubt suffered similar mental anguish all night.

If I could travel back in time, a junior high dance from '88 or '89 would be among the top 10 redos of my life, just so I could slap that version of myself that was too shy and not terribly confident--for girls, for skills outside my ability, for focusing almost exclusively on academics at the expense of well-roundedness.

Levon and I Guess That's Why They Call It the Blues, by Elton John. An unlucky duce from someone who I cannot believe actually draws sell-out crowds, in the 80s, 90s, or today. His career went downhill starting with "Crocodile Rock," which is too bad because his earliest stuff is gold. But Reg's "Blues" is the lone exception to my general black-listing of anything he's put out since the era of MTV began.

Allison Road by...Well, I had to stop for a minute. After looking it up, I can confirm that it was the Gin Blossoms, but it could've been Blind Melon or Collective Soul or Soul Asylum or a half-dozen other similar-sounding, oddly-named bands in the mid-1990s. Not much stands out about this song, except that it's of a type of that era--like Collective's "The World I Know," for example. Geesh, how did anyone tell these groups apart?

She's a Brick House. Not even worth looking up who sang this song. It's entertaining, it's fun, it's in the top echelon of pop culture moments that likely precipitated humankind's demise.

Cruise with Me Baby, by Huey Lewis and the News (um, Gwyneth Paltrow). I vaguely recall this sappy love song from the beginning of the new millennium. I think Gwyneth returned to acting (and dissing America from overseas) shortly after this song came out.

Other mentions: "Hells Bells" by AC/DC (changed the channel), "I Stay Away" by Soundgarden, and "Lose Yourself" by Eminem. And hey, it makes for a much more interesting (I hope) blog post than suffering through talk radio or sports radio, right?!

It is moments like this--which lasted perhaps 3 seconds, tops--that make me love and be grateful for being a dad.

Pumpkins! Fall! Kids!

Ah, Autumn! For a few glorious days each October, New England is unquestionably the loveliest place on earth.--Bill Bryson, "I'm a Stranger Here Myself."

600th post!

Wahoo! Welcome to the 600th post on Timbeck3. We started this blog 3.5 years ago, and chose the title as a play-on-words of Timbuktu. At the time, we were also expecting our first child, who would soon make us a family of three. A lot has changed in the intervening three-and-a-half years, thankfully much of it for the good. 

I'd like to reflect on and celebrate the one constant through each day of those years, and through each post, and through each moment and laugh and all the work behind each post...the best girl I could have ever hoped to find!

Here's to being there together for the time that we've been subjecting our family, friends, and lurkers to our blog, and to being there together for years before that. Someday, I'll have to put our pre-kids memories down too, because those were some of the best days of my life (including celebrating the Red Sox' tears-of-joy, historic World Series win--their first in [need I remind anyone] 86 years--together). I don't want to forget those moments in the current chaos of being young parents. Thanks for smiling along and laughing throughout our road of life, babe!

But we just re-financed 9 months ago!

It was Becky's turn to teach our family's FHE lesson last night. She taught us about the story of Jesus calming the stormy sea while His disciples slept. In narrating the story from the scriptures, Becky stopped to ask, "The disciples didn't have faith, but Jesus did. Why was He not afraid?" Not a second passed before Goose belted out, "Because He was asleep!"

She then added (appropos to the post title), "If Jesus moved to our house, He would live upstairs. But then our house would collapse, and we would need a newer house!"

New bedtime

This little cherub was giving us a good run for our money at bedtime for about the last six months. Now, before I continue, let me get out of the way the disclaimer: This was our version of not-good bedtime news, and I realize that others have far worse bedtime stories with their kids. If you have better bedtime experiences, you are a fool for not writing a best-selling help book to make millions off of impatient, stressed-out parents. There.

It's been so long, I can't remember when the Goose's bedtime antics began. Probably beginning of spring? We would have dinner and head upstairs by 7pm most nights. Pajamas, teeth, wash hands and face, and be ready for books by 7:15 or so. But then, for the next hour {and sometimes, painfully, for much longer} our Dear Goose pulled out many tricks to prolong the bedtime nonsense.

By the summer, we were routinely finally leaving the girls' bedroom by 8:30pm--90 minutes after the bedtime wind-down began. I could recite the litany of stalling techniques Goose employed, but suffice to say, she had it down pat: changing her pajamas, asking for more water, asking where Mommy or Da-da was (we opted early on to have just one of us handle bedtime post-teeth, hands, etc.--that way, one of us was in reserve), asking if the night-light would turn on, asking if the night-light would be bright enough, asking for another book {then getting out of bed to help herself to one}.

We had to leave the door closed, and stay in the room until she had fallen asleep, and comfort Mouse after she had been startled awake by Goose in one of her snits of demands. With each night, it felt like she was adding tools to her arsenal. And we were running on fumes patience-wise. Many nights, Goose would dissolve into fits of tears. Even after she calmed down, she would continue to whimper off and on until she had finally exhausted herself. Crying oneself to sleep may be okay every once in a while, but her bedtime shenanigans were wearing her down, and we didn't think it was healthy for her to cry herself to sleep almost every night.

All the while, I was quickly getting more gray hairs and realizing that this had to stop. It wasn't sustainable, it wasn't healthy, and it wasn't fun. So, in September--after several nights of pep talks and advice from Grandma and Grandpa--we started a new routine.

Dinner starts earlier, by 5:30. Heading upstairs starts earlier, by 6:30 (except for Family Home Evening night). Everything is pushed back earlier, so we can reclaim more of our nights and sanity. One book, prayer, and one story. Lights off by 7:15. We're out of the room by 7:30 (last night, the girls were conked-out by 6:45! Hallelujah!). Door is now left open, and hallway light outside their room stays on. We tell the girls we have chores to do downstairs, and need our own time.

Becky handled the first few nights of this new routine. The first few nights, I had to physically leave the house so the girls wouldn't ask for me (they are both Daddy's girls). On the second night, as I was walking out to my car, Goose came running downstairs, chasing after me through the house, and opened the back door to scream after me to come put her to bed. Must've been a real sight for the neighbors!

That was three weeks ago. It has worked like a charm every night since then. Being Daddy's girls, they respond a little better to me putting them to bed, which is fine with Becky because she will then get a jump-start on her own list of things to do or unwind. Sometimes Mouse is not as sleepy as her big sister, on account of having her daily afternoon nap. But I think they're sleeping better, waking up in a better mood, and have accepted that this is the new bedtime.

***
P.S.--I "sing" the girls a song each night at bedtime. I can't sing, but whatever. Just last week, I wanted a new song. I tried to think of a quick, catchy song that the girls might like, and hit on Do Re Mi from "The Sound of Music." They love it, especially Goose. In fact, tonight she sang almost all of the words along with me. It was a treat.

P.S.S.--I didn't see "The Sound of Music" until 2002. I knew almost nothing about the movie, musical, or true story until that time, though that had not stopped me from taking "The Sound of Music" tour in Salzburg, Austria several years earlier (1997). I was more interested in the girl who dragged me onto the tour than I was in the movie itself, so I sat on the tour bus as Americans, Germans, Austrians, Canadians, and English fans belted out lyrics to songs that I had only a marginal awareness of. Now, I think the specific, short part in the movie (in the clip above) right after they walk around the water fountain, when the kids and Julie Andrews are running inside the trellis, is one of cinema's most enjoyable moments ever. 

P.S.squared--If this post jinxes us, I'll pull it off the blog faster than anyone can sing "The Hills are Alive."

Mouse's birthday bash, take 1

On Friday, October 8th, Our Little Mouse turned 2! I suppose this must immediately be followed by the requisite "Where has the time gone?!" She still doesn't quite understand the whole to-do about birthdays, but she'll definitely have it down by the time her older sister turns 4 in March.

We were spoiled by our wonderful neighbors, who joined us late that afternoon and brought over gifts, including Mouse's very own pair of rubber boots (She was dismayed when Becky brought out Goose's pair of boots earlier in the week, and our neighbors hunted across the area to find a pair.)  



Here are our sweet neighbors! Thanks for the gifts and the cupcakes. We couldn't imagine what our life would be like without them. In a more recent example of how cool and kind they are, they both helped out this past Friday night when it was our turn for our 4-family babysitting co-op. They colored, played games, and read stories to our girls and their co-op friends (that night, it was 5 kids; usually, there are 7 plus our girls).  

Here is Mouse modeling her new rain boots. Our neighbors also gave us the red picnic table that we're all sitting at. Mouse loved pulling the wrapping off her gifts and reading through the books she received. She definitely loved her very own chocolate cupcake. That was probably the highlight for her. Little did she know that that night, after she'd gone to bed, Mommy and Da-da fervently worked magic in the kitchen to create a slew of vanilla cupcakes for the next day's birthday party with family and some friends.  

 

Has turning two ever looked cuter? Welcome to 2, Mouse!

Sittin' on the Dock

Hat-tip to one of the greatest songs from the '60s, Otis Redding's "Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay." This was another in the series of great family photos from our Sunday walk last week. We watched a black Lab jump into the Charles River after a long stick that his owner, standing on the dock, had thrown in. We also watched a gaggle of Canadian geese scury when the Lab splashed into the water. Great memories of a fun time together. 

Sunday walk

This past Sunday was one of those postcard-beautiful autumn afternoons: sunny, just warm enough where you didn't need a sweater, but you could tell there'd be a chill in the air come nightfall. Leaves were changing color and falling. 

after church ended at 4pm, we went for a family walk to bask in a delightful late afternoon...

...and cheesily, comically pose for pictures. I love Mouse's ongoing developing personality; she's by far the quieter of this dynamic duo, but she's at the point in life where she's realizing that making funny faces and sounds sends us (especially her doofus daddy-o) into fits of laughter. Love totally unscripted moments like this.

earlier, they had chased after each other on a dirt path under a canopy of yellow-leafed trees. You could hear their laughter echo through the woods. It was one of those moments where I stop, put the camera aside, and take a mental picture of this singular slice in time.   

and thanks to that wooden railing behind the girls, we were busy picking splinters out of both girls' hands much of this week. 

Swan boats with grandparents

Still going through our photo collection from Grandma and Grandpa's visit...those were the good old days! It is sweet having family come to visit, for many reasons. For one, you tend to see and do things that you might otherwise not do, taking for granted that because the events and sites are so close by you can check 'em out any old time. So when Grandma and Grandpa were here, we all hit the Swan Boats at Boston's Public Garden after the Big Dog 5K.

Mouse can about 10 feet from intentionally falling into the quasi-clean Swan Boat pond. She loved squirming around! She was just lucky that she didn't come face-to-face with the packs of Canadian geese or ducks.

The Swan Boats were one item on my new list-mania passion--the Boston Bucket List. Hat tip to our friend Deidre, whose blog recounts the tons of cool stuff she and her family have seen throughout New England over the last few months. She inspired me--a native New Englander and prime example of the taker-for-granted--to really plan to see a lot more of the sites around us.

Actually, this was a Swan Boat double-dip. We had gone there as a family of four just a few weeks earlier, for the first time. You'll note that this was at the height of Mouse's feverish devotion to wearing her pajamas all day, even out in public. And maybe in a future post, you'll read the complete airing of items and events on our Boston Bucket List.  

Round in circles

Our new loo was not complete until our new washer and dryer arrived.  They came on the scene while Grandma and Grandpa were here (which now feels like ages ago).  Here is Mouse, basking in her reflection in the washer's door.  It took me a few loads before I realized that the washer has a child lock; Mouse kept going in the bathroom and fiddling with the controls, in a few cases even stopping the machine!

Of course, this means that we're back to washing clothes.  By the boat-load.  Did I miss my clothes washing/ drying duties this summer?  Honestly, I did.  For me, it was one step that I could do to help keep our family ship going.  I curiously enjoy the predictability of it.  It must be the German in me.   

Another thing I've missed lately is woodworking. 

In full disclosure, I have to admit that since my post on woodworking in March, I have done nothing about it.  The first project, a toothbrush holder, remained in my friend Mack's wood shop for months.  I then asked if I could take it home and finish it.  And it has stayed in its plastic bag in our house ever since.  I have no idea when I'll get to any one of those projects I've dreamt about, let alone all of them.  It's a bit of an internal struggle, trying to imagine how to balance family, work, church, health, friendships, and hobbies.  It is something I try to figure out as the laundry's getting done.               

Big Dog 5K

One of our favorite Boston traditions is running in Northeastern University's annual "Big Dog 5K," which takes runners along the scenic Charles River, with its Esplanade and views of MIT, the Museum of Science, etc.  Loyal readers may also remember that it was at last year's Big Dog 5K that Timo saw supermodel Gisele Bundchen. 

No multi-million dollar celebrity sightings this time around.  But we had a really fun time, again.  Becky recruited more runners, and spread the word about this race.  I think Northeastern (where she earned a Master's) might want to consider giving my great wife some recognition: perhaps an alumni award, or--a boy can dream--naming a building after her.

All of the runners from our ward, at the finish line. 

Our girls enjoyed clapping along with Grandma and Grandpa (after Grandpa had pushed them in a double stroller and clocked in at an amazing 21:06!).

I love this photo of Goose running toward me, with the Boston skyline as backdrop.  Yes, and the port-a-potties in back don't really tarnish this photo's luster for me.

Here comes Timo, realizing that he still had energy left so he kicked it up a notch and passed several runners to come in just over 27 minutes.

Us at the finish line, with Grandma and Grandpa.  I think Grandpa Fred might be thinking, "I pushed my two granddaughters in a gargantuan, 75-pound double stroller over 3.1 miles of broken asphalt, potholes, and dodging runners, not to mention flying 2,500+ miles...and all I get is this bright-red T-shirt?!"

This is the before shot.  Sometimes, I like to do things differently in blogging.  We're looking forward to next year's Big Dog 5K.

In a funny aside, the next day our conducting Bishopric leader mentioned that the Young Women (and their leaders) had run in the race.  He mistakenly first told the congregation that the Young Women had run 5,000 miles!  Still, good job by all!



Sliding in Arlington

Thanks, Christopher Columbus, for giving us a 3-day weekend.  I fear that those on the far left will in a matter of years deprive us of a glorious extra-long weekend in the name of correctiness.  But for now, we will take the added day-off and overlook your less-than-charitable deeds, which coincided with your accomplishments that are memorialized on this day.

Years ago (2001-'02), I lived five blocks from Arlington's Robbins Hill Farm, which has cool views of the entire Boston skyline.  Once air flight resumed after 9/11, I went to Robbins Hill to watch airplanes as they took off, for the reassurance that life goes on.  I'd bring a book up there to read, or people-watch, or dabble in my hobby of that single-and-kid-less phase of my life, photography.  But even then, I would dream about taking my future children to this 11-acre park, to fly a kite and have a picnic and run around.

Picnic? Check.  Kite? Forgotten at home.  Running around? Check.  In the above video, you see Goose and Momma Becks slowly casing down the long slide.  It must be designed to not let you go fast; I had to dig in my heels several times on each descent to get any speed (and prevent the older kids from planting themselves in my rib cage).

The only time this slide was fast, unfortunately, was for Little Mouse.  We took her plastic shoes off, and about half-way down, she zipped to the bottom.  I was too busy video-ing her ride.  Before I could lower the camera, she was on her back at my feet, howling in fright.  I have video of it, but my tender dad side prevents me from publicly airing it. 

Thankfully, she is 100% fine. 

In another statistical certainty, she'll never go down that slide again.

Big sisters are...

for force-feeding you decorative native corn

AND

for showing you [and anyone passing by] that pumpkins are birthed by humans