Brrrr!

Saturday afternoon, November 24th. We came home from morning errands and a visit to our town library. Our house was comfortable on the inside. In years past, before we had kids, Becky and I did not turn our heater/furnace on until at least December 1st. Nowadays, as the number of kids has increased--along with our ages--we are a lot more leniant/bigger wusses when it comes to heating our home and ourselves.

Still, despite the furnace and the not-overly-chilly weather outside, I walked into our front living room to this adorably comical sight:

From the looks of it, you would think we were holding auditions in our living room for a remake of the classic movie

Chicken Parm Club

Over the last two years, I have become a self-proclaimed connoisseur of chicken parm sandwiches. So much so that I have started an informal monthly Chicken Parm Club (CPC) at my office, with a bunch of other guys. We scope out delis and Italian restaurants within a 15-minute drive of our office in our never-ending quest for the best chicken parmigiana sandwich. It's a fun office tradition and a great way to bond with co-workers outside of work.

Recently, I initiated another new member: my 17-month-old son. No, he isn't part of the official-but-unofficial office CPC. But just give it about two decades. In the meantime, I was on cloud 9 watching Mr. Moo dig in to my piping hot, saucy, cheese-melting chicken parm sandwich on a rockin' Saturday night at home. He totally loved every bite and kept going back for more. The quality of the photos isn't top-notch, but in terms of quality control, Moose played his part well.

Check out that smile! That is the look of a little boy in culinary heaven, huh?

Kitchen Remodel: New Appliances

We are getting there! Every day over the last week and a half, progress--noticeable, real progress--has been made in our kitchen remodel. It is relieving and encouraging to see, because for a time around Veterans Day, I honestly thought that the calendar would turn to January 2013 without our renovation completed. I practically wept like President Eyring, pointing my finger on the podium to the beat of many lamentations filled with "This isn't done!" "The contractor isn't coming over tomorrow?" "How much more will this cost?" and, my personal favorite, "So, you're telling me we still won't have a working oven for the weekend?"

However, early last week, some wonderful arrivals debuted in our house. I was glad to stay home long enough before leaving for work to see their delivery: a new fridge, a new oven, and a dish- washer. It's the first dishwasher Becks and I have had in our 7.5 years of marriage. It's the first dish-washer I have had since my first garden apartment in Boston, a decade ago.

Becky has always wanted to have 8 children. On the morning that the new appliances arrived, we traded some jokes about the new appliances, as their birth--together with our 3 real kids--gets us to 6 "children." So, we are almost there in the kids quotient. Ha! I congratulated Becky on delivering 3 all at once. And these new ones will cost less over time than the real ones! And people, we are just joking around; no offense intended. This remodel has been a significant source of stress on many fronts over the last half-year, and we have desperately needed comic relief here and there to fill in the long, skull-numbing, stress-inducing, funds-depleting gaps between signs of progress. 

Now roll that beautiful appliance footage!

Here is the Love of My Life, so glad she's my wife General Contractor Superstar. Fawning over her new fridge like any proud new mama. Also, it's clear that unlike me, Becky has not taken to eating copious amounts of junk food as a coping mechanism during this renovation. Well done, beautiful!

Our youngest two had a carnival in our new kitchen, exploring all of the new devices with their buttons and shiny features. Yes, we went with stainless steel, so shoot us. We obviously know all about fingerprints and dings, but ultimately felt best with the stainless steel appliances. There is no way that this new kitchen will not end up looking well lived-in, with 3 young kids. And, for a nostalgia-fueled dad like me, the prints and dings serve as a reminder of those many young kids moments that will come and go all too quickly.



Our Little Mouse totally approves of the new, shiny stuff. She made herself at home, opening doors and poking around the place, no doubt checking out oodles of fun, new secret hiding places for her trove of books, dolls, and gadgets.

As of this morning, with more progress made since these photos were taken, we'd estimate that we are 90% done with the kitchen renovation. We blew past by estimated completion date (the Friday before Thanksgiving) and Becky's (the day before Thanksgiving), and are now aiming to get the whole thing completely done by Saturday, December 1st.

Home stretch, home stretch, home stretch...

Good Old Lovesick #28

Mr. Moo broke out a new one-piece suit last week. He loved it, and we loved parading him around in it. I think it's cool, and just hope that he doesn't outgrow it anytime soon. I may even be tempted to buy bigger-sized models as he grows.

Here comes good old #28 (plus, you get to see more recent photos of our kitchen):

Our Mighty Moose is now 18 months old and is currently enduring Month #3 of his Lovesick-for-Daddy fever. Longtime readers may recall that his oldest sister had a raging case of this very same Lovesickness about 3.5 to 4 years ago. I sometimes miss those days and moments when Goose could not even be seated across the dinner table from me without howling and reaching for my arms.

Now I get to re-live some of the magic, the longing, and the frustration, with another lovesick child. Seriously, for all of the moments of frustration, the loss of personal time, and my jokes about it, I am a lucky man.

To be loved so fiercely and positively by another person is incredible--that for all of my faults and selfish moments and less-than-stellar attitude, I am worthy of such devotion and love is a gift from above. It's one of the best things about being a parent. It's also a blast to have another eager little sidekick by my side.

Kitchen Remodel Update

Our last kitchen appliance went in on Thursday evening this week! It's our new microwave, and here is Good Old Timo helping our contractor Roy install it. All of our new appliances--fridge, stove, microwave, and a dishwasher (which we have never had in our 7 years of marriage)--were delivered on Thursday. It was a truly exciting milestone.

Yes, we are making good progress. Yes I am overdue for a further-reaching kitchen remodel update to post on our blog.

Attempt #1 above, seconds after I walked in the door from work.

Well, not so fast..Attempt #2. The microwave matches the stove, and everything looks good. The appliances would be all hooked up on Friday morning, ready to use.

Becky made me post this one above!

Looks nice, doesn't it? It took about 10 minutes to maneuver and re-position the microwave. Seconds after this photo was taken, Roy and I were in a moment of jubilation as we would finally have a fully functional kitchen for the weekend. Becky snapped these shots.

Roy wrapped his hand around the microwave handle, excitedly proclaimed, "Tim, you can make popcorn in here tomorrow!" and pulled on the microwave door.


It didn't open.

You read that right.

The microwave door did not open.

It didn't budge even a fraction of an inch.


See that beautiful little cabinet to the left of the microwave? It is over too far to the right, by less than one inch. There is a little fill-piece to the top right side of the cabinet (next to the white horizontal bar) on the right of the microwave. That fill-piece is actually on the wrong side; it should be to the right of the cabinet to the left of the microwave. Everything would have then lined up correctly, and the microwave would have both fit and opened.

Instead, with the cabinet off by less than an inch and the fill-piece on the wrong side, our microwave fits snuggly in its position but too snug--the door cannot open at all.

To quote the Police's masterful Synchronicity II song: "It's a humiliating kick in the crotch."

So, we are stuck without a microwave, even now on Sunday morning. We have looked for smaller microwaves in an effort to not have to re-shuffle the cabinets. We have seriously considered moving that fill-piece to the correct side of the microwave, which would necessitate the said re-shuffling of the cabinets. That would necessitate at least a half-day of work on work that we have already done, which is so frustrating to us. We have looked for microwaves that have a top-down handle as opposed to a opens-from-the-right handle. We are still thinking it over.

But hey, everything else works fine and looks good!

Sleeping kids' post, take 2

I kid you not...on Sunday evening, the same day that I ranted and bared to the world our woes about one child's nighttime antics...she started sleeping just fine straight through the night! So, that post will not be deleted, as I had threatened.

However, there is often good news and bad news. The bad news is that, just two nights later, Mr. Moo started his own antics. This round, as opposed to his sister's schtick at bedtime, he cranks it up in the middle of the night. Now, in his defense, he is currently living through at least 2 bottom molars and 1 canine tooth busting through his gums. That might be all or part of the reason for his antics. 

But we don't think that teething is all or part of it. The medicine we've given him to help his teething issues do not seem to have much effect. Then again, as far as teething goes, he's not terribly cranky. No, Moose's antics are the same that medicine cannot and should not address. Once he's awake, he's just happy to be AWAKE! For an hour, 90 minutes, or two hours.

Arrghh!

There is a reason why we did not pack our summer oscillating fan in our attic once New England nights turned chilly enough to crank on the furnace. We have let him cry it out as much as possible each night. The dude just has to learn. In the meantime, this episode mentally ranks somewhere between "torture" and "it's just a phase" for him and for us.

A Tale of 1 and the other 2

See these two? They are our oldest child and our youngest child.

They have been sharing one bedroom for months, and are currently our best sleepers among our trio of kids. They typically go to bed easily, with a song and a prayer and few books and minimal post- nighty night attention. And if, tonight or any night this week, their bedtime behavior drastically changes, well...this blog post never happened. I will seriously delete it.

The Goose (on left) and The Moose (on right) only really give us some bedtime theatrics when their sibling really acts up. Their sibling is this one:

On Halloween afternoon, with self-administered facepaint.

On Halloween afternoon, squeezing into her 17-month-old brother's Halloween costume.

She has been the nightly nighttime source of angst, teeth-gritting, and obstinance. Most nights, she will ask for: a) one more drink of water; b) another book; c) someone to sleep beside her; d) one of us to check on her after our chores are done; e) reassurance that we are not leaving the house; f) pancakes for breakfast in the morning if she stays in bed; and g) any other actions or props that will both delay her falling asleep and increase our frustration.

There is Catholic guilt, and there is Mormon guilt. As a former of one and a current of the other, I am suffering from a bout of double-guilt, like a double ear infection I guess. I feel guilty at being so flippin' frustrated at Mouse's bedtime shtick.

On Thursday evening, after twice calmly laying next to her and speaking softly with her, I left her side an hour after bedtime. Having previously been warned that if she cried *again* and woke up her siblings *again* that night that I would whisk her out to our minivan to sleep in alone for the night, Mouse could not help herself. She sobbed and asked for Becky and tried to crawl out of bed to wake up Goose to get our attention. I darted up the stairs like my pants were on fire, entered their bedroom, and without saying a word carried Mouse all the way out to our cold car. She had crossed a line of frustration, and I was crossing a line of sanity. I was lucid enough to not try to get her all the way in our car, however. Mouse flailed and resisted getting in the car. So, I wisely chose not to force her in. I don't need a 911 call, thank you. We went back inside and Becky took over. She tried the calm approach that I had tried an hour earlier, and it worked, finally--90 minutes after Mouse's bedtime officially began.

In these moments, my guilt takes over. I should feel grateful to have a child, right? I should try to find how I can improve my own attitude and progress in these trials, right? I should think of the eternal perspective, right?

My answers:

I do feel grateful, on a daily basis and at various times for various reasons. But I think it's okay to feel negatively as well. I can see how I can improve my own attitude, after the moment has passed. But the next time her shtick flares up, it's hard to return to that place of quiet learning and remember how I promised myself and God I would act the next time my patience is maxed. The eternal perspective gets shuttled somewhere to the far reaches of time and space in my mental tally of "It's 9 o'clock, you're on the verge of *again* waking up your sick brother and your sister who has school in the morning, and we have dishes to wash in the downstairs bath tub and clothes to fold and crap, it would be awesome if Becky and I had even 20 minutes to unwind and talk like adults before Mr. Sandman comes calling for us."   

Blogging about it, though perhaps crossing the TMI line, certainly helps. It's our family's journal. And on a certain night, about 25 years in the future, we can break the hard-copy version of this blog out and chat with this very same daughter as she encounters one of her own children putting on the bedtime song-and-dance. And just as this is a phase for us and we'll survive (I am supremely confident of that), it will be a phase for her in her own family of the future.

And I don't feel the slightest bit guilty in relishing a mental vision of me chuckling into the phone and offering a half-a$$ed less-than-heartfelt "Good luck with that!" when Mouse calls us at a time in the future to ask what to do with her own child who is pushing the bedtime boundaries of time, sanity, and love at home!

Party in the Leaves

The Saturday before Hurricane Sandy hit, I got outside to rake up our leaf-covered backyard. I've always enjoyed raking leaves. It's somehow relaxing to me and gives me an often-needed but seldom-realized few moments of quiet reflection and contemplation. That Saturday morning, I was out there around 7:30 a.m. while our kids slept in a bit.

After breakfast, we all came outside to pitch in on yardwork. There was a lot to do, and more would come after Sandy's winds hit two days later. But in the midst of raking up the yard and corraling kids, Becky and I stopped to watch our three little ones having fun in all of the work. What, to me, looked like one massive pile of leaves became, to them, a fort and a landing pad after jumping and a series of tunnels. When all was said and done, the leaf pile became the setting for an impromptu tea party:

Everyone had an assigned seat. Goose the oldest and Mouse the middle dutifully took charge of busing our table, with drinks and plates and Saltine crackers and water. After nearly 3 hours of raking leaves, my darling daughters gave me some time to unwind. I very much appreciated it! We had enough crackers for all 5 of us. Too bad I didn't step behind the camera and get Becky in a shot. It seems like she makes the fewest appearances in photos on our family blog.

We had a fun outdoor party as the clouds rolled in and the wind picked up ahead of the approaching storm. Once again, I was struck at how imaginative and quick the minds of little kids can be. Here I was totally seeing the leaves in one particular light--as a calming activity albeit a big time-suck--whereas our kids saw fun and creativity lying in wait in that pile.

We talked and joked about whatever was on their minds, and we didn't hurry through the tea party to get onto the next activity or plan. Their laughter and hand-clapping filled the space in our backyard. Their busyness as our waiters was cute. The dialogue between Goose and Mouse was hysterical to key in on--they really were sounding like a grown-up, asking about when such-and-such food would be ready, how many of this did we want, are our customers happy.

It's also informative to see one's day in a different light: not a rush from one thing to the next (in this case, raking and bagging leaves), but as a chance to enjoy the moments and make the best of whatever's at hand. It can be a truly difficult perspective to maintain. I also don't think it's an accident that it is often through the work and minds of children that an adult's outlook can shift, even if just for a little while.

Reason #395 of Why New England Rocks

Foliage, people. The foliage. I don't know if I could ever live in a place that doesn't have fall foliage. It's a part of life around here, something to anticipate each year. The autumns of the past when the leaf-changing was lackluster, early, or practically non-existant have short-changed us. But not this fall. One early morning, I went out for a run and brought along our camera, in the hope of catching some foliage shots as the sun came up.

The two hardest things

This photo was taken months ago. But the subject line of the post? It comes from this morning. Goose has started reading all by herself this week, and it's awesome to see. She is also on a very good streak of being a helpful, more patient, and easy-going 5-year-old.

This morning, as we were starting the day, she was reading a book titled "The Butterfly in the Sky" to us in our bedroom. She borrowed it from her school's library. It's a relatively short book with simple sentences and pictures, well suited to helping children learn to read.

At the end of her second or third pass through the book, Goose plopped into our wooden rocking chair and exhaled:

"Dad, do you know what the two hardest things are?"

My mind was still processing her query and looking for two funny, hard, and off-the-wall answers. Before I could respond, she answered her own question:

"Reading a book...and hanging upside down by your knees!"

(...What wasn't hard was Goose making the American flag out of Legos.)

Election Day 2012

This is the look we all will have, in our family and I imagine in many of our friends' families, and in many families across the U.S. of A., once this blessed presidential election is over. It is the look of elation that another year-long cycle of negativity and false representation will be done with.

I don't get too caught up in politics. I don't have the time or the passion. I really don't understand those people who do, but it takes all sorts. We at Chez TimBeck5 live in a house divided on which presidential candidate we support, but that's as far as I'm going on that road on our blog. We will all wake up tomorrow excited for the blessing of a new day, and health, and for the many freedoms we enjoy, including the right to vote--to have that vote count, and to respect whatever outcome is realized. We at Chez TimBeck5 will be glad it will be over.

Over the next four years, as our oldest two grow up, we will hopefully be entering an age when they will become more curious about the world around them, and able to absorb a deeper level of understanding.  

That is what gets me excited--thinking about helping to widen their minds and their own beliefs, and their respect for others' opinions. 

Han Solo

This post isn't about the orgasmic news that at least three new "Star Wars" movies will be released in my lifetime. (Though I am frighteningly ecstatic about taking my kids to see the movies in theatres in 2015, 2017, and 2019).

This is about what Han Solo is doing in the picture above. Waving his finger in someone's face. I post it because I have been doing a lot of that lately, toward one child in particular. And it needs to stop. How awesome it would be if this child's behavior stopped, but that's not likely in the near term. So, my reaction to the behavior is what needs to stop or change.

The behavior this child exhibits is asking me or Becky on a nightly basis at bedtime if one of us will sleep with her in her bed, or if she can crawl in bed with us. Sometimes, I am the fun or tender dad type and easily agree to Mouse's request. Other times, like when she comes into our room round about 2:30 a.m. to ask, the response from either Becky or me may not always be so chipper.

Then nights like Thursday, when the stars really align: Becky is out with girlfriends so I am doing all 3 kids at bedtime alone, and I need to get back on my computer because I am teaching an online history course. Mouse decides this is the night to let it all hang out: muffled cries turn into loud cries turn into sobs that awaken her two siblings, all sleeping in the same room. Her brother starts crying. Her sister complains that she's so tired and why can't Mouse calm down?

With each foray into their bedroom, my blood pressure jolts a few notches higher.

Soon, I am beside Mouse's bottom bunk, on my knees and later in her bed, hushing her quiet. This only makes it worse. My whispers and pleas actually make it worse? How? I don't get it.

Three kids awake, I'm irate, and my measured, quiet response hasn't made a difference. That's when the finger-waving and finger-wagging begins. I don't like doing it, but there's a part of me that secretly does. Because, somehow, that gesture gets Mouse's attention. She calms down, stops crying, and soon enough is off to sleep. My finger-waving worked again. 

So why do I feel conflicted about it? It feels like I am the classic school marm or nun rapping a student's knuckles. Which is all the more odd because I am not a woman. Why is it that all stereotypes of brass-balled teachers are women? I think the finger-wagging is insulting and demeaning, two things that I don't think should be associated with fatherhood. 

I wish the hushes and the pleas and the hugs would be enough to settle Mouse's sleepytime anxieties. The next time this happens, I might just tape my fingers together and try a different course.

Big Day Yesterday: The Tooth Chronicles

Yesterday featured another one of the TimBeck5 family's milestones, which I am feverish about reporting on in our blog. At 5 years and 8 months old, something monumental happened in Our Dear Goose's life:

Bye Bye Bye to her first loose tooth! Look in her bottom row, front and to the right. There is an adult tooth shooting up that's a little hidden/back/shadowed in this picture. Until yesterday afternoon after school, it was blocked by her baby tooth.

Goose was super excited to have a wiggly tooth, super nervous for me or Becky to pry it out or yank it out, and super glad that it popped out all on its own. She called me from mommy's phone while I was still at work, and I could barely understand what she was trying to tell me. It was "Daddy, my toothisgoneIdon'tknowhwereitwentbutwe'relookingforit!"

Or, something like that. She and Mommy scoured the playground and thankfully finally found the errant old baby tooth. Goose was glad to have it so that the Tooth Fairy could visit her last night. And here is the old product, in the lower left of an oversized plastic baggie. She even broke it out to show our young elder missionaries, who came over for dinner last night.

I checked early this morning, and the Tooth Fairy indeed paid a visit to Goose last night. She left $1.25 in a tooth fairy ceramic bowl that Grandma Mary Ann sent to her a while ago. Thanks for the bowl, Grandma! I think the Tooth Fairy intended to leave enough money for Goose to get to buy lunch at school (a rarity), but I was just informed by my better half that school lunch is a bit more expensive than $1.25! I am now sure of two things:

1. Future lost teeth likely won't rake in as much moolah;
2. The Tooth Fairy needs a better quality control officer and accountant.