30 for 30

30 posts, one for each day of the month of April. Phew. I am relieved that the finish line is here. However, as this blog nears the posting finish line, we want to let you all know that we are just starting another race in our family:

Drum roll...Teeth clenched...Checking our finances online...Gearing up for the next few months...

We are





Redoing our kitchen.

(What? Were you expecting some other news?)

You might remember how, earlier this month--amid the steady stream of posts--I wrote that Becky had ripped up our linoleum flooring in the kitchen. We thought about tiling the floor or installing new hardwood. But then, Becky thought, "We want to redo our kitchen someday...We will likely be in this home for at least X number more years...why not just go all-out!" So, that's our next adventure. We are only at the design stage, and it will likely be end of summer (or longer) before we have a finished product, our new kitchen. It took me a few days to come around to this idea, but I'm now sold on it and excited for it to begin.

In the meantime, our little girls have enjoyed messing up our old kitchen. We hope that the new one will have either a breakfast bar or an island. We envision our kids sitting at or around either layout, starting on the homework, and chatting as a family. It feels like we never have a run of more than 6 months without something major (new baby, new bathroom, new kitchen, new playroom, etc.) on the horizon. Someday, life will slow down a bit.

Right?

Please?

Thank you all for following along for this month, and for your support via comments (or just hearing that you've been reading). I'll be back in a few days with new updates. Happy May!  

Goose's new wheels

In this Month of Firsts, Goose wanted to get in on the action herself. Her baby brother went to Fenway Park for his first time. Her younger sister rode a bike with training wheels for the first time. And Goose? She rode a bike without training wheels for the first time ever. It's great when there's such an air of synchronicity in our family.

Looking back, we didn't do as much biking as a family as I had hoped. Not as much biking with either Goose or Mouse strapped inside a baby seat behind me. There is still time to do that with Mouse, but for Goose, those days are over. I'm sad to realize that. But at the same time, we are into a new phase--where she can ride her own bike and I can really enjoy seeing her hone a skill and have a fun time.

I still remember the time, when I was about 4 years old, when I was riding in a bike seat behind my Dad. We were riding close to my childhood best friend Gerard's house. Gerard was almost 2 years older than me. My Dad just had a sense that if Gerard saw me in the bike seat, he would ridicule me. So (and I still have a vivid memory of this moment), my Dad pulled his bike over, lifted me out of the seat, and we walked around the beautiful old college where he worked (and still works) for a while.

Our life with three kids, a kitchen remodel, church involvement, plans, and just general day-to-day stuff can often squeeze out time for little adventures like a family bike ride. So, I am posting this as a reminder to myself to get out on the trails and walkways a bit more this spring and summer.

I want our kids to have fun memories about bike rides, like the ones I have from my own childhood.  

In sight

The end of April...that's what's in sight. The end of posting each day for 30 days in a row is in sight. Man, this is more challenging than I thought it would be when the idea struck me at the beginning of this month. I really liked the notion of posting a little commentary, with or without some photos, about the big and the little of our family life every day for an entire calendar month. Now, (almost) in hindsight, it's still been an overall fun experience.

I will likely never commit myself to it again.

Because there are days like today, when as I pour through 6 weeks' worth of photos for something that hasn't already been covered...nothing comes to mind. And yet, due to this consecutive-posts thing that only I agreed to and only I am responsible for, I don't want to back out right near the finish line. It's like slogging through a 500-page book on a subject you enjoy...but it's written with such an academic bent or the viewpoint is outdated, you can't bare to hang on every word remaining in the last two chapters. But you still press on, because you're oh so close.

I felt that way about a different medium (motion pictures) with "Funny Farm," for example.

No, wait...Scratch that. I fell asleep during it. Four years later, I still remember the sensation of slogging through.

In the end, April has been a terrific month. Fun-loving kids, a wedding anniversary with my sweet wife, a week's-plus vacation, new plants in the ground, an attic-to-playroom conversion that's further along than I thought it'd be, friends and family, new flags to fly from our front porch, and lots of blogging. All good things to recap...
  

...whether once every day, or a little less frequently!

Nana's Camp

One of the most enjoyable aspects of our life in New England is having family nearby. We see my parents, sister, and family about once a month. Then, during school vacation weeks, our girls often sleep over at Nana's Camp for a night or two. It's a win-win for all of us. The above photos were taken when we dropped Goose and Mouse off at Nana's Camp during April school vacation week.

Mouse was ecstatic to count for anyone who'd listen the number of days they'd be there to play, and the number of nights they'd sleep over.  "Three days of play, and two nights sleeping at Nana's!" she told my parents (often...as in, even on Day #3).

Neither my parents nor we are at the stage of dropping Moose off with his sisters just yet. Maybe by the summer of 2013. I am already dreaming of the things Becky and I can do with an entire day and night with our entire brood out of our house and at my parents' place!

Mouse is on the Move!

This month of firsts continues...Our Little Mouse, just this week, has started riding a bike with training wheels! Last spring and summer, she did not show much interest in riding those low-seated Big Wheels or a balance bike (which is how her older sister learned how to bike).

Teaching Mouse how to ride was on my mental list of kids activities to focus on this spring. Well, Becky excitedly sent me a text while I was at work on Tuesday, with a photo of Mouse perched atop a bike with training wheels. I am sad that I missed the inaugural pedaling, but Mouse just took to it and didn't look back.

I later came home to see the scene first-hand, and it was so cool! Both girls were racing around our driveway, not really chasing each other as much as vying for my attention. Her next big step will be to get out on the roads and paths nearby for even more wheeled fun.  We just need to convince Mouse to leave her cowboy boots at home. She is still ferociously attached to them, though they won't make for terrific biking gear.

When I was younger, I always envisioned that teaching your own kids how to ride a bicycle must be one of the most fun and cool things about being a parent. And it is!

Boston Marathon

Last week, April school vacation week, I had off from work. We did a lot of fun stuff as a family; the JFK Museum, our girls' 2-night/3-day stay at Grandma Camp; finally starting work on renovating our attic room into a kids' playroom (!); Fenway Park open house; and, not to be outdone, the Boston Marathon! Phew, what a week!

It was a week of firsts for Our Mighty Moose...first time at Fenway, first wave (to Becky after he and I returned home on Wednesday morning from a guys' outing), and first Boston Marathon. Marathon Monday was also a scorching hot day.

I think the above photo is very illustrative of our kids, from left to right: Goose dressed in her favorite color (pink), Moose checking everything out, and Mouse totally not into the cacophony of shouts, cheers, and thousands of hands clapping as thousands more walk, saunter, and ran past us.

We only stayed near Heartbreak Hill for about 90 minutes, and left thereafter to escape the heat with the help of popsicles. Still, if you're in Beantown for Marathon Monday, you have to take in the Marathon, right?!  

Ancestral Memory

Last week, on a sunny, clear-blue-sky day, I took Becky and the Moose to the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum in Dorchester. The museum itself, architecturally speaking, is a marvel, sitting right on the Columbia Point peninsula, with awesome views of waterfront and planes landing at or taking off from nearby Logan Airport. It's now one of my favorite spots in New England.

Before I continue, let me note that the Kennedy clan is not without some deserved controversy and disgust. There are plenty of ugly, immoral, and questionable actions committed by some of the clan's most prominent members.  However, I also believe that the political Kennedys have tried to right wrongs. When the JFK Museum opened in 1979, the late president's brother, Senator Edward Kennedy, said that John F. Kennedy's life "was a voyage of discovery, a quest for excellence that inspired universal trust and faith. In that brief unfinished journey, he made us believe once more in the great historic purpose of this land. He filled America with pride and made the nation young again." I love that imagery. I believe it.

Something else I believe in is ancestral memory. I had never heard a feeling of connection and longing for one's roots put in such a powerful and simple statement as I did last week. At the Museum is a video about JFK's one trip to his ancestors' Ireland, a trip he made just months before the CIA, the Mafia, Frank Sinatra's friends, the Military-Industrial Complex killed him (pick your own conspiracy) he was assassinated.

In that video of his speech in Ireland, Kennedy used the phrase "ancestral memory."  I watched this video while, in the background as JFK speaks, there's a stirring Irish ballad, "The Shores of Amerikay." Below is the video shown at the Museum; the best part starts at 25 seconds, and lasts till 1:33. That minute of your time is worth it, for the beautiful imagery in his remarks:

 

I love the phrase "ancestral memory." As I watched his remarks and heard the background ballad of a man bidding farewell to the land of his youth, I could not help myself. Right there, in a corner of the JFK Museum, I started crying. Becky thought I was sad that JFK had died with so much unfulfilled promise. Not so in this case.

***

In ways that to me are indescribable, I have felt a connection to Ireland that I have not felt and do not feel toward the lands of my other ancestors: Scotland, England, France, Germany (and perhaps other European countries; given Europe's history of shifting borders, the ethnicities of some of my ancestors, and the despairing trials they endured because of their races that caused them to flee for sanctuary elsewhere, I might have Russian and other blood in me, too).

***
Something in Kennedy's remarks as he spoke about his own great-grandparents leaving Ireland spoke to me. In his words, "no country in the world, in the history of the world, has endured the hemorrhage which this island endured over the period of a few years of so many of her sons and daughters." These sons and daughters "have kept a place in their memory, in many cases their ancestral memory, of this green and misty island.

***
"So in a sense, all of them who visit Ireland come home."

***
It made me so proud to be counted as one among millions of her sons, and one who yearns to come home. It also made me emotional--the sense of feeling far from home, the feeling of not being where your roots lie. I've been fortunate to have seen some of the most historic and interesting spots in Europe, including in lands of my ancestors (England, Scotland, France, and Germany)--as well as in lands to which I have no ancestral link but for which I have developed in time a personal affinity, like Poland.

Ireland, the land of warrior bands, has somehow eluded my travels so far. Maybe that is another reason why JFK's remark about ancestral memory touched me so deeply. Only ancestral memory, and a weak one at that, ties me to this green and misty island.

A part of me wanted to come home to Ireland last week, and I am not sure how to bide the time until I am able to actually visit it.

Not sure if this makes sense. I know it's not the typical "look at what our cute and wacky kids are up to" posts you've come to see here frequently. But I want this in our family record, too. Someday, I will come home.    

As a history lover...

...I am royally set up to fail in instilling a love of history in my offspring, if this photo is any indication:

But I will still have fun!

Home Depot bird feeders

On a recent Saturday morning, I took our girls to a Home Depot in the area. The Depot was holding one in a series of family-friendly events, and this one was about kids building bird feeders. I knew that our girls would be excited for the end-result. They love helping our retired neighbors add feed to their various feeders and watching cardinals, chickadees, and sparrows zip through the air. They also like to tell us when a squirrel is dangling upside-down trying to get at the bird food.

Here are a few photos from this Home Depot DIY. Our girls' two bird feeders have been up, hanging on to the exteriors of windows in our backyard, for a few weeks now. The sparrows caught on to the free food by Monday morning.

Mouse looks oh so enthralled to be here, doesn't she? For someone who, thankfully, the night before got 12+ hours of uninterrupted sleep, she was somehow tired throughout the bird feeder building. She is also displaying her classic "Petulent Pensive" look. The fact that her bright orange Home Depot
apron is blank where it reads "Hi, my name is ____" tells you all you need to know about her level of interest in this outing.

Despite photographic evidence to the contrary (above), Goose was into the bird feeder building! Horray! She excitedly spelled her name on her very own bright orange Home Depot apron, and tried her best to follow me as I read aloud the directions. Goose did a good job separating the small, medium, and large nails, for example.    

This is exactly how Mouse spent 95% of her Home Depot excursion: Doing anything but building her bird feeder! A smidge of my being, about 5%, was tempted to tell her that she would not have a bird feeder if she didn't do more work. But I knew that would lead to a torrent of tiny tears, at the Depot and again when we returned home. So, Mouse did hammer a nail or three a few times for good measure, and called it a morning. I finished her bird feeder.

Mouse and Goose with their finished products. Home Depot's Kids Workshop was a hit, as far as I was concerned. We will do it again. Everything was free, and there was no hard/overt sales pitch (aside from having to troll through some aisles of products and wear their advertising home, on these aprons). That's a winner in my book!   

Amelia Earhart

Since last summer, I have been on a kick to visit landmarks, historic sites, cool or odd stuff, and anything else that sounds interesting in New England. My "New England Must-See" list has about 500 entries. Not kidding. Greater Boston area has probably half of that tally.
I get a kick out of trooping our family to see this cool playground or that neat event or this freaking old building or ship or whatever. If during a day off or a weekend, we can tick even just one item off that list, I feel an even greater sense of accomplishment about spending time with my family. We mix in a side trip to a site with just regular family time.

Yesterday morning, while Moose took an early nap and Becky needed one herself, I loaded our girls in The Blue Bomber and whisked them to West Medford. Why? For one, that is where Becky lived when we started dating at this time of year, eight years ago. I have a post to come on that.

For two, there's an historic house very near Becky's old house. The plaque tells you why it's of note:

"Amelia Earhart. The famed flier lived here from 1925 until she left to make the first trans-Atlantic flight by a woman on July 17, 1928." Earhart was in her late 20's when she lived in West Medford.

I have always liked the first name Amelia, and when our second daughter was about to enter our lives, I really wanted to give her that name. Thankfully, Becky liked it and agreed to it, too.

Amelia Earhart's life is an amazing story.  Her influence is profound: the boundaries that she broke, which were imposed by one segment of society and then allowed to continue just because "it's always been that way." I like that Earhart did not accept how society dictated how one segment or class of people should and should not act, what they could and could not do.

Amelia Earhart was a modern-day explorer. She was and is an inspiration. She was also a liberator, a woman who showed millions like her that it was not okay to have your dreams quashed by the social convention of the times, that you could dream and do. I don't think it's appropriate or Christian to deny rights to one class of people just because of their gender, race, religion, sexual orientation, or mental or physical state. If one believes in a Heavenly Father who created us as equals, who are mortals to decide that equality can be legislated and proscribed? It takes people like Earhart and her daring feats to compel the whole human family forward.  

I want that sense of "you can dream and you can do" for my own daughters, in this era, too. I want them to think that the only boundaries to their dreams are the ones that they themselves impose--not ones dictated by society or by a sense of "that's so because it's always been that way."

I hope you, my dear Amelia, will find joy in your own dreams and set off on a voyage to achieve them. The name "Amelia" means hard working or industrious in an old form of German. I pray that you'll work hard to reach for your own dreams and goals, my sweet daughter, and that,

most of all,

you will be happy in whatever you do, think, and discover.

Fenway Park's 100th anniversary open house

We love Boston, history, baseball, historic stuff, and free events. Yesterday, we managed to wrap all of those elements up in one afternoon. Fenway Park, "America's Most Beloved Ballpark," turned 100 years old today. Yesterday, the Red Sox opened the park up to fans for a free open house.

You could step into the dugouts, walk the red dirt in foul territory (but not venture out onto Fenway's fabled green grass), peek inside the stuffy Green Monster, and see historic artifacts on display through-out "the lyric little bandbox." It was very cool.

Over the years, perhaps from going to so many games in the late 1990s and early 2000s and then seeing Fenway transform due to the team's success and popularity, I have gotten tired of Fenway. It's cramped, expensive, ancient, uncomfortable, too touristy, too full of the business-transactions-at-a-game/"wine-and-cheese" crowds, and more of an entertainment piece than a baseball shrine these days.

However, my hardened heart softened a bunch yesterday. I was able to focus on the history of the Park, and not on any of the above contemporary ailments that befall it. This is the park where legends dating back to World War I played. My grandfathers took in games here. My parents had one of their first dates, a Mother's Day game, here in the 1960s. It is where I've taken good friends, out-of-town visitors, girlfriends, my father-in-law, and family. Many of the greatest players of all time have walked onto Fenway's green grass.

It is where I snuck a kiss on an unsuspecting Becky in May 2004, as we sat next to each other in the bleachers.

Fenway holds sacred baseball memories and personal ones, as well. It does for millions of people, especially New Englanders. It is a rite of passage, a physical link to ancestors in a quick- moving world where not many things link generations back beyond one's parents these days.

Our girls were on a 2-night, 3-day stay at "Grandma Camp," so unfortunately they missed this fun event. I am sure they had more fun with Nana, Bumpa, and their cousins. However, we made the day important from a family standpoint: We brought Moose to his first Fenway Park event! Here are some photos of the milestone moment:

I love Our Mighty Moose's look on his face in the photo above. He looks pleasantly surprised, chilling in the visitors' dugout!

Moose was enthralled by the massive, high-tech video board above the centerfield bleachers.

Look how hot Becky is!  

Snagging a seat with this view might go a ways to changing my current overall attitude toward Fenway. After going to about 75 games over my lifetime, this is one area of the ballpark where I've never sat. The view here is amazing.

I'm thrilled that we got to take in this event, to bask in the history of baseball's oldest ballpark. I am also glad that Moose joined us. He was a dream. He didn't cry once in the 2+ hours we spent, most of it standing in a barely moving line. I can't wait to take him to his first game at Fenway Park in a couple years!

Lucky #7!

Happy 7th wedding anniversary to the best girl in the world! Thank you for being by my side for all of these years. Thank you for keeping the challenges and learning in perspective with your positive attitude and love of life.

You are simply the best thing that's ever happened to me! Here is to a lifetime of more love, fun, family, and laughter.

Cowboy boots

My sister Elizabeth gave our girls cowboy boots, and for Mouse, they were a big hit. So big, in fact, that they are her #1 choice for footwear. Problem is, it seems that Mouse's feet still aren't big enough for the boots, and in her excitement, she tends to trip over herself in them.

How can it be that something so fun can also cause these little accidents? Despite numerous falls, Mouse insists on her cowboy boots almost every single time we go anywhere. For example, Monday I took our girls to a YMCA. Mouse left our home wearing a too-big swimsuit and cowboy boots, and nothing else.

Wish I had been smart enough to grab my camera for that scene!

The ice cream addicted one

Over the last 6 or more months, I've been trying to spend time one-on-one with our little girls. It's been helpful to get away from the noise, routine, and the distractions created by siblings to connect with each of our daughters. I have loved it. It's one of the best practices I have undertaken as a dad, not that there are many of them I can take credit for.

Right now, these daddy-daughter dates are some of the choicest and most fun moments I experience as a father. Years from now, when our girls have grown up and moved on in life, I'll be even more grateful that we spent some time on a frequent basis, just me and the Mouse or me and the Goose.

Our Little Mouse always suggests the same daddy-daughter date when it's her turn for her to spend one-on-one time with dear old dad. It's comical how excited she gets over a simple kid's cup of "white" (vanilla) ice cream with rainbow sprinkles, at the same ice cream store. No other place is good enough for her refined taste, apparently.

And as I've learned from repeated infractions, Mouse does not want to be disturbed by my questions about how she's doing or what she likes to do. She prefers to sit silently on an old cushioned bench near a window and dig in to her ice cream cup. She'll occasionally break the silence by asking me for a glass of water, or to brush her thin, brown hair away from her face, or to plead for another helping of white ice cream. But generally, she eats in silence and I just look at her cute little face, wondering what is going on inside her head and imagining the life she'll lead.

Will she remember these daddy-daughter dates? Will I remember how soft and little her hand felt wrapped up in mine as we walked into the shop? What hobbies will someday replace ice cream and quiet?

These are some questions that I ponder as she and I enjoy our quiet company. I actually feel like I learn a bit more about Mouse during these dates. It's priceless time.

Patriots' Day

I love New England. I am a New Englander, born and raised. I am also a history geek, so I can't imagine living anywhere else in the U.S. that could offer me as much history-laced calories on a daily basis as this region can. This day, Patriots' Day, celebrates the sacrifice of countless individuals more than 250 years ago, who risked their lives and livelihood for greater freedoms and the privilege to exercise their rights.

Becky and I have been watching one episode of The History Channel's "The Revolution". We started on Sunday evening, and it's thrilling. This series has helped me gain a better understanding of all of the political, economic, and social intrigue leading up to and through the American Revolution. If I were a teacher, my students would be required to watch this.

I'm excited to teach my own children about the Revolution, and why its legacy still matters today. It's also pretty cool that we can hop in our Blue Bomber and drive to many of the original sites and see actual artifacts relating to "The Shot Heard 'Round the World," the Boston Massacre, the Boston Tea Party, etc. Looks like we'll be spending future weekends on some history tours!

Me, on paper, in the mind of a 5-year-old

Goose drew this portrait of Yours Truly for our ward's talent show night a few weeks ago. Bears a passing resemblance, wouldn't you say?!

On the T

We took our girls on the T for a recent Disney show in Beantown. It was their second excursion on the good old MBTA. The first time was for their first Red Sox game at Fenway Park in September 2010. I think they enjoyed the ride again this time, though it was a Monday holiday so the trains were not too crowded; hence, we had very few people-watching opportunities, which our girls always enjoy.

However, the T ride didn't disappoint in its awkward factor. Mouse saw someone in the same car, across the aisle, who frightened her:

"Get me out of here!" she's thinking. Sorry little one, but at this point, we were stuck underground somewhere between Kendall/M.I.T. on the Cambridge side of The Mighty Charles River and Charles/ M.G.H. on the Boston side, on the T's Red Line. Her expression of unease was thankfully replaced not long after I snapped these photos.

It is a view that anyone and everyone visiting Boston must see. Heads invariably turn from conversation when the T cars amble up and out from underground and this view meets the eyes:

(I didn't snap this photo. I was too busy pointing out the sight to our girls and enjoying their reaction).
Growing up south of Boston, I was often entranced by life in the big city. My mom and dad both were born and raised in Boston neighborhoods (Southie and Dorchester, respectively). My dad would ride the T to school and on errands. When he was 8 years old. Alone. Nowadays, any 8-year-old riding the T (or just being out in public not near a home or school) would immediately be cause for alarm. Not back then. What a different world!

Listening to my dad's stories, he would often hum or sing the lyrics to the folk group Kingston Trio's hit, "Charlie on the MTA." The MTA was the MBTA's original name, way back when. I thought the story of Charlie was real. On the rare occasions that my dad took me into Boston, I often hoped and expected to see this old sap Charlie forever being unable to find enough fare to get off the train.

I have since rode the T so many times, its allure is gone. However, it's really cool to see my own children have some element of fascination with the T.

The girls' first IMAX movie

On the last Friday in March, I took the day off to spend with my family. It was a great, sunny and chilly day in New England. I took our girls to an even chillier spot, right on the Boston waterfront. My sister Beth gave us some IMAX tickets for Christmas, and we had spent some time that week watching IMAX trailers online to see which movie most appealed to them.
Both Goose and Mouse loved "Born to be Wild," not just an IMAX movie, but 3-D! It's about efforts in Africa and Southeast Asia to save elephant and orangutan populations. And for our girls, anything is immediately made 10 times better when buttered popcorn is involved.

This little dear (above) spent 30 of the 40 minutes of the movie repeatedly taking off and then trying to put back on her 3-D glasses! No amount of coaxing on my part to keep her glasses on helped. But she did think the elephants were cute, so there's that.

Meanwhile, this dear one (above) got spooked by a baby orangutan who looked like s/he was going to snare us with an arm (remember, it was 3-D) about 10 minutes into the show. So, Goose spent the next half-hour wimpering into my left ribcage that she wanted to leave. I almost granted her wish, but then I thought how unfair that would be to her sister, who was behaving wonderfully aside from her constantly trying to pry off and re-apply those glasses.

Goose instead got a half-hour dose of "tough luck, kid" as all three of us stayed to the bitter end. The movie was narrated by Morgan Freeman. During the show, my mind oftentimes drifted, thinking, "How much did he make for doing the voice-over? A couple grand? For how much time in the studio? And this is on top of how many millions he's made? Not a bad gig at all."

In hindsight, I may have jumped the gun by bringing a 5-year-old and a 3-and-a-half-year-old to a 3-D IMAX movie. They will dig those types of movies in just a few more years. But we had a fun time at the New England Aquarium, and Becky got some down time while we were gone and Moose napped, so that's also a plus.

Good show, fun memories.





The Office

About once a quarter, Becky will bring our kids to my office for lunch. Our girls love the chocolate milk and the sugar cookies in our cafe. Moose likes roaming around the joint, pulling on computer wires. Becky and I get a kick out of seeing each of our kids zone in to something different--one kid can't get enough of the phone, while another is zeroed in on my keyboard, while another just wants to crawl across my office floor.

Growing up, my Dad took my sister and I to his office on weekends, to give my Mom a break at home and tidy up after the double tornadoes of us two kids had swept through, yet again. So, in a way, I am carrying on that tradition with my own children.

It's fun to see traditions continue.

Retraction

Remember yesterday's post? The one wherein I wrote that with our just-beginning kitchen floor project, we would either hire someone to refurbish our floor, or Becky and I would retire the whole thing ourselves?

Scratch that!

All by herself, Becky ripped up our nasty old tile and the plywood underneath today. That project was sandwiched around watching a friend's child in a pinch, me going to the dentist, me needing to take my car to the shop with a flat tire after the dentist, trying to figure out how to get to work, me getting Mouse to Play Group, Becky getting Goose to pre-school, Becky getting Moose home for a nap, Becky tutoring at 4 p.m., Becky makign dinner, Becky tutoring at 7 p.m., and meeting a contractor at 8 p.m.

As I wrote two days ago, Becky is built to last.

Me? Not so much. I spent 90+ minutes yanking old, rusty, twisted nails out of floorboards. After I got all 3 kids to bed...after Mouse hit her mouth on something and caused her gum to bleed. While I was comforting her, Moose rolled off our bed and onto the floor, for the first time. Amazingly, he didn't cry and is fine.

It has been a day and a night full of drama, exertion, and craziness. Built-to-last Becky has handled it all in stride. Me?

Tonight was evidence that I am no longer a young man. My back, knee, ankles, and a hip are all sore. The "retraction" title of this post is my public declaration that I was naive and overly ambitious about retiling our kitchen floor ourselves. No amount of pain and discomfort is worth the couple hundred bucks we'd save!

Two years ago, we retiled our new downstairs bath. We both thought we'd be up for the kitchen retile. Man, I wish the words to a nice '60s tune by The Byrds were true for me: "Oh but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now!"
This story is to be continued, but tonight, I wish to shout No Mas!  I am not totally defeated, and I may yet change my mind, but right about now, hiring someone to either retile or refurbish is money well spent!

Because...

...we live in a 100+-year-old house
...we just don't know what to do with our copious amounts of free time
...we can never sit still
...we detest the ugly old tiles and the warped section of floor
...we need something to do during April school vacation that's fun (instead of museums, playdates with friends, daddy-daughter dates, our 7th wedding anniversary)

...we are redoing our kitchen floor. Phase 1 was last week. Prepping time. I came home from work to find that Becky had single-handedly moved our metal shelves rack, red "everything has its place, and that place is on" the red shelf, and refrigerator into our dining room. She is awesome.

Meanwhile, our girls had a grand old time with Phase 1:

The jury is still out on whether we can refurbish the old hardwood floors underneath our old tiles. If they can be, we will do that. If they can't, we'll rip up the old floor ourselves and re-tile ourselves. During April school vacation week. It needs to be done. But Becky and I have joked several times to each other that we will get started on re-tiling, and spend the next 10+ hours cursing our decision to do it ourselves.

Tonight, I suggested to Becky that we do something fun with the money we save by not having a contractor do the work.

Then, we can discuss all of the fun things we envision doing with that money while we labor on our hands and knees, while spackle and grit cover our exposed skin, while we gaze out our kitchen windows at (hopefully not) a beautiful spring day in New England and wish we were outside. I think the daydreaming will get us through yet another home repair project.   

Already thinking of our next project, later this summer: turning our attic room, which we use for storage, into a playroom for our kids. This is one that I am actually jazzed about starting!

To...

...the best part of my life, the coolest and most genuine person I've ever been around, and the one family member who does not mind that she seldom gets blogged about! Becky makes every day a fun one, no matter what the chaos barometer is reading in our house with three little ones. I don't know where she gets the energy and positive vibes, but I am grateful to be around her. One friend of ours said a long time ago, "I'll bet Becky smiles while she's sleeping."

I recently had lunch with two friends from work. They've both met Becky a few times, and are kind enough to humor me as I talk about a stage of life that they have not yet hit. Upon hearing my tales of home life at Chez Wilson, one of the women joked, "Wow! Becky is built to last!" I don't know exactly why, but I loved that description. It seemed very fitting.

This friend might have made her excitedly amazed observation in response to me telling these friends that Becky's a stay-at-home mom, piano teacher, math tutor, visiting teacher, primary presidency member, close friend to several people, a thoughtful person to our elderly neighbor, addicted to Shutterfly, on one home repair project, eager to have another child, and wife.

Becky is currently sleeping upstairs, so I do know that she is human and needs time for herself to recharge and do her own things. But I am amazed at how much she gets done, and how she pursues so many of these good roles and activities with a selfless attitude, a cheerful heart, and a determination to help.

What a blessing she is in my life.

Music for Easter Sunday

This Easter Sunday, like last year, we skipped our Mormon church services to visit my parents' house and go to a Catholic Mass with my Mom. I love this tradition. It's important to our family, and important to my Mom, that we're all together on Easter. We go to the chapel that I attended from the time I was born until the time I moved to Boston--a span of a good two-plus decades. It brings back a lot of memories from my childhood and young adulthood.

I just think Catholics do the Easter Sunday service in a manner that appeals to me more, illustrates the moments of this day in a profound way, and, yes, brings the Spirit.

It was a wonderful feeling to be in my old chapel, with my Mom who raised me to believe in Jesus, and with my pillar of faith wife and our three kids. One way I felt the Spirit this morning was through music.  There are many Catholic hymns that I liked from growing up, and I still love them. One of them, which I had not heard in probably a decade, we sang at Mass this cloudy, windy Easter Sunday morning.
One Bread One Body was a song that the parish band--a female lead singer, with her husband on an acoustic guitar--led us in. Now, here's another distinction between a Catholic and an LDS church service: at an LDS Sunday service, the entire congregation sings! Imagine that! Not so in most Catholic parishes I've been at throughout my life. And today was no exception. But it was great in a way, because you could just focus on the singer and the guitar and the occasional note from a trumpeter. It was magnificent. I think I'll always remember where I was, whom I was with, and how I felt when I heard this song again after so many years, on such an important day as Easter.

Likewise with an LDS hymn, I Know That My Redeemer Lives. It's another personal favorite, and the accompanying video in the link above powerfully shows our Savior's life. It is His life that we celebrate today, the life that overcame death, His life given for ours so that we too may live again.
Happy Easter!

In-house addiction

We lovingly welcomed a new resident to Chez TimBeck5 around Thanksgiving. Our newest family member seems to attract a lot of attention for something that does not require much maintenance, any affection, or a lot of nourishment. Someone in our family, in particular, seems to be snared by its magnetic attraction.

Our new addition made our flight to and from Utah two months ago about 100 times better it would have gone without it. For that reason, and for its userability and quick access to info, I am appreciative of this gift. We as parents are alternately amazed and alarmed at its power to suck all of the time and attention it can from anyone, and that includes our little girls.

Ladies and gentlemen, our iPad.

This one gift, our iPad, was received with the same level of enthusiasm from our girls as if they had awoken one Christmas in some future childhood year to a new kitten, new clothes, new dolls, bikes, and a year's supply of candy. I have to hand it to our church and other resources for investing so much time in generating uplifting, good, and free content (such as puzzles of people from scriptures).

At the same time, we have had to closely monitor what the girls view, and for how long they view anything on the iPad. So, it's a complicated relationship. I am using the iPad as a tool to reward good behavior and as a motivator to apologize and make amends for bad behavior.

For instance, one of our girls lost her iPad privilege for the last two weeks of March for some repetitive bad behavior. It pained her to know she could not play with it, despite how many times she apologized. At times, I felt a pang of sadness for her when I witnessed the lengths she went to hear or catch a glimpse of whatever her sister was doing and viewing on the iPad. But I had to stick to our guns, and it was for the better, for her and for us.

We're now trying to moderate its use. We love it, but we just need to be careful with how much love we show it. It's a tough balancing act. What is ever not in parenthood?

Good Friday

Good Friday is one of my favorite days of the year. Growing up Catholic, I think what I remember most was feeling sad that Jesus died on the cross. The combination of being naive, young, and not spiritually mature made me focus on His death, and how my sins contributed to His suffering. People joke about Catholic guilt, but believe me, I felt it. I use the word favorite because it's one of the most spiritually powerful days, when many people around me focus on the Messiah more. It's a wonderful feeling.

The passage of time, my giving more attention to the complete life of Christ on earth (as described in scriptures), and just growing up a bit more have given me a better appreciation for His ministry in its entirety. Not just on the last few agonizing hours of His life, but on all of His miracles, and Christ's message of charity to all.

His death, a significant moment to be sure, was not the end of His life or ministry. Jesus' message lived on. It still lives on. I am grateful for that perspective. I believe it. And while I still feel bad that our Savior had to endure so much for each one of us, I understand a bit more why He chose to go through a moment's time in Gethsemane for an eternity of heaven.

This video, done by my church, is an enthralling portrayal of the events that Christians focus on and, in a way, celebrate on this Good Friday. There is always a reason to celebrate the sorrow of Good Friday, because it was not His end.

Good Friday shows that Jesus can overcome everything, and He wants us to choose His way so we can, too.

Another first: First Pet

Mid-March's unseasonable, awesome warm weather brought a lot of fun times to our lives. Our girls really loved running around outside without needing a jacket, for instance. The high temps also made the grass start growing, the bulbs start popping, and lots of other things come to life.

Including insects.

Goose was so excited one afternoon to find some "pets" to call her own, right in her backyard. She scooped the critters and their homeland into an empty yogurt container, then proudly showcased it to our neighbors, her siblings, and Becky. She was still on cloud nine when I got home a few hours later. These were her first pets, she was elated to inform us.

Want a closer look?

There is the critter--the darker red, long thing along the bottom of the frame. We released it back into the natural world a day later. And Goose wasn't terribly upset by the parting. In fact, three days ago, she told me that Santa is bringing her a kitty for this Christmas.

She rallies fast!