Bedtime serenades

Tonight at bedtime, I got to be with our girls for a change while Becky handled putting our two boys to bed in their bedroom. Normally, I'm the honored guest for our boys, because Grouse just can't handle being without me if he knows I'm home. Cute and curdling, isn't it? Currently, our girls read books to themselves for about 15 or 20 minutes, and then Becky or I will come in to their room and read a chapter of a book to them, then shut the lights off, say prayers, and leave, usually around 8:45 or 9 p.m.

Tonight, I was in a nostalgic mood (surprising, isn't it?!). I asked our girls, "Do you want me to sing some of the songs we used to sing at bedtime?" And, to my delight, they leaped at this idea. So, with the ceiling light off and just their night lights on, we ventured into our small repertoire of songs we used to sing at bedtime, when they were much younger. It's probably been three or four years since we last sang these songs, which were once quasi-staples:

Feed the Birds
If I Had a Hammer
Bus Stop
Take Me Home, Country Roads
Puff the Magic Dragon (wow, that's when it suddenly gets very misty in the air)

Goose stopped me while singing Puff. She remarked, "That's such a sad song! The boy is too old and too busy to play with Puff anymore. What happens to Puff?" These are questions that she didn't contemplate years ago, when we'd sing this song. The last time I remember her asking about Puff, her question was much simpler: "Is Puff real?" 

In a sign of how she's growing up, Goose didn't ask whether Puff is real or not. She now knows the answer. And her questions now are more grown-up, reflective, serious. I quietly took this observation of her growing up in as I sat in a chair near their bunk bed. It is sobering to realize how quickly three or four years have whizzed by. 

On the other hand, Mouse didn't ask any questions about Puff. She was much more hooked on the lyrics to the Hollies' Bus Stop. I looked it up, and that song turns 50 years old this year. Mouse silently listened to the words, some of which I messed up, and asked if we could watch the video to the song. It took some explaining to say that, way back then, songs did not have accompanying videos. 

This was a really fun and enjoyable bedtime for the three of us, me and our girls. I was grateful for this experience, and grateful to know that, while time marches on it is not powerful enough to erase rituals, even ones started at young ages.

The Carpenters House

This big, beautiful house was in my parents' neighborhood during my childhood, growing up years, and beyond. It was a 6-bedroom place with two round rooms at the front of the house, a small side-yard, a small backyard, and lots of windows. I loved walking by this house when I lived at my parents' place. 

In fact, one of my earliest memories that I have on my own (i.e., a living memory, not some tale that my parents or other relatives told me about a person, a place, or an event that I would not have remembered on my own were it not for their repetitive mentioning of it) is from this house. I was probably 4 years old, and in the fleeting memory I am sitting at the family's kitchen table. The kitchen, as I recall, was right next to the back of the driveway, near the lattice work on the back porch. In the memory, an older girl is standing at the table and talking to me, while her mother is in the kitchen with us.

That's it. That's all I have. I might have been inside that house many times afterward, or never again. I don't remember. I now know the older girl's name. She was about 5 years older than me, so we didn't have reason to interact in the neighborhood or at school as we got older. But I always liked her house. 

And I often wished, growing up, even when I didn't see this girl for long stretches of time, that she could have had a younger brother that I could be friends with. I wanted to be able to walk to his home, this home, and have another friend in the neighborhood. For many years, I only had one friend within walking distance in my neighborhood. I wanted to play "war" in his backyard and have our imaginary military battles span from his yard through others' yards and into my yard. We would meet at the bus stop, maybe ride our bikes to school as we got older, be on the same baseball team, and generally just have a friend our ages right nearby. I don't think I dwelt on this lack of a friend too much, but it was there, even when other kids moved into our block when I was about 10.   

The years went by. My childhood turned into adolescence into teenage years into the college years and afterward. This house stood there, year after year, getting older and a little bit run-down, as it quickly emptied of occupants. Nostalgia for the 1970s that was in music and TV and such in the 1990s (see: That 70's Show, the Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam song Against the '70s) struck a chord with me, and for some reason, once when I was visiting my parents' home during college, I labeled this house The Carpenters House, for the sibling duo the Carpenters (though I only knew about two of their songs at the time). 

Something about how the house looked spoke to me of the first decade of my life, though I remember very little of it. It wasn't like the occupants of this home were blasting Rainy Days and Mondays or On Top of the World from this residence! But then I remembered the girl from this memory, and I thought she bore a slight resemblance to Karen Carpenter, so the home's name made sense to me in a few ways.

At some point in the late 1990s, the family that had owned the home when I was growing up decided to sell it. The new owner kept the aging home in a seemingly perpetual state of kind-of being worked on to improve it, but without much actual progress being done. When I lived with my parents after college, once in a while my Mom and I would look at the bright moon high in the sky over our neighborhood, and I'd see a light in the attic of the Carpenters house. 

As I contemplated my own future and family, I wanted to live in a house like this, with lots of bedrooms, lots of windows, a small yard, in a quiet neighborhood, with several stories (instead of a ranch home, for example). I was saddened to see the Carpenters home fall in to such neglect, though. By 2014, the home looked like this:  

Those beautiful bushes in front? Gone. The bright yellow paint? Stripped off, worn away by years of harsh New England winters, and, again, neglect. The yard wasn't maintained well. But at least the house still stood. Every now and then, when I'd walk by it, I would wonder what it looked like inside. I'd recall that fleeting memory of being in its kitchen. I'd think of my childhood wish to have had a friend my age who called this place home. 

There was always the chance, fleeting like my memory, that this home would return to its prettier state. Unfortunately, that won't be possible now. A new owner bought this sorry home and, a few weeks ago, the Carpenters home was leveled. New spring grass and weeds are already growing where the kitchen, the fireplace, the shrubs, the driveway, once stood. 

Nothin' to do but frown
Rainy Days and Mondays always get me down. 

Goodbye to a family gem

Dear 2005 VCR and DVD combo,

You have lovingly served our family well over the past decade-plus. We are in a de-cluttering phase as a family, and your clock has run out, so we will bid you a fond adieu this week. Our daughters and I are somewhat sentimental to see you go. Our sons and Becky can't be bothered to wax nostalgic about you. Don't take it personally. 

Before you leave, here are some memories from your only family of users: You were our sole source of electronic entertainment until 2008, when we got Internet service in our home. You never have had to compete with cable TV in our house [11-plus years without cable and loving it!]. 

I remember turning to you to watch James Bond movies during my 2-week stint as Mr. Mom in the spring of 2007, when Becky went back to teaching to finish out the school year and I was home with our infant Goose. When she went down for naps, I'd turn to you for movie-time. You have entertained our kids (and numbed us parents' minds, indirectly) with countless hours of Dora, Sesame Street, Baby Einstein, Bob the Builder, and a host of other shows, most of which we have since (so quickly) grown out of. You obviously never once complained about being tucked away in the back bedroom on our second floor with our TV. That was our conscious decision to have you guys secluded, so that you didn't dominate the scene when guests came over.

Smallville, Star Wars movies, White Christmas, and oodles of other shows and movies came sort-of-but-not-really to life for us thanks to you. With you on the way out, we won't have a mechanism to screen our catalog of VHS tapes, some of which go back to my college days. 

I have a hard time with this era coming to a close. Not so much that you are leaving, but what you represent, a visual link to the past, is becoming scarcer to access. For this history-loving stuffy sentimentalist, I don't like this. But I have liked you, and what you represented, and what you provided my family for so many years. You were a provider of happiness and laughter and a de-stresser at times when I was so tired or moody or frazzled from being a new parent and later a parent to multiple kids. 

So, thank you.

5!

Apparently, when one turns 5 years old, he or she can start being handy at the local gas station! Here is Our Mighty Moose, who might have been the kid most anxious to hit his 5th birthday ever. He had been asking us for months, "How many more days until my birthday? I'll be five, right?" That line of questioning made me think that, perhaps, in his mind if his birthday was really far away but still this year, that'd he pass over 5 and go right to 6!  

But 5 he is, and ready for Kindergarten. He's ready for a daily routine and super-ready to have more friends his age, with whom he can interact, play, and imagine on a daily basis. Moose craves this. His littler brother is fun to play with, but he's just 2. Moose does have a few friends from church that he sees at least once or twice a week outside of Sundays, and they're a lot of fun. But it's just not enough face-time, and it's beyond his control, naturally, to determine how often he can hang out with his buddies. He doesn't have a cousin his age out here. So, Moose is ready for new horizons, chapters, and friendships.

He's also ready for the new Star Wars movie dropping this Christmas, Rogue One. He is excited for summer, for riding a bike, for ice cream most any time, for movies and shows and popcorn. He's ready to learn how to read and to go on school field trips like his sisters have done. Moose has a totally out-of-whack craving for my iPhone, the one way he currently is aware of that he can access Dude Perfect. 

Bring on being 5, little man!

Plateau

That little person is me, and the white line trending downward before plateauing represents my weight loss. Nearly 6 months in, and I am down about 12 pounds from where I so un-spectacularly this new year. So, that's very good and encouraging news. I have needed to buy basically an entire new wardrobe (post for another time), which has enabled me to expand my sense of fashion, big thanks in part to two of my co-workers who know more about fashion than I ever will.

I feel better about myself and my appearance. Running at least 1 mile, sometimes up to 2.5 miles, three or four times a week for much of March, April, and some of May has been a boost to my spirits that I can't fully describe. Running is cathartic for me. It's empowering. It's a blessing of time to myself, solitude, exercise, a chance to unplug my life. It feels like how running felt to me each of the previous seasons where I got the running fever, and I love it. I do, however, need to allow more extra time to warm up than ever before. 

When I think back to the last time I was so motivated to exercise and try to make better eating choices (2013), I recall that my running streak spanned mid-February to mid-June. So, four months. In those four months, I dramatically lost weight but did not properly warm up or wind down after my long runs. That oversight's bill came due in mid-June, when my Achilles flared up, which prompted me to bike to work more, which then resulted in me breaking my collarbone and then nearly dying from a blood clot in August. 

Fun times, huh?

This time around, I've been running since mid-January, so I'm about at the same amount of time as my 2013 running fever. But I'm very conscious about not over-doing it. That, coupled with some lingering poor eating choices, have resulted in my weight loss plateauing. I'm now 173 pounds, and have been here for about 5 weeks. Good, because I'm not putting the weight back on, but bad in that I can't seem to break past this number. 

I'm learning that I see treats like cookies or Caramel Milky Ways as a reward for the long hours at work and home, and a reward for me balancing those things along with soccer, church, and volunteer board stuff. 

I'm encouraged that my patience and not over-doing it in exercise have resulted in no injuries after 5 months of running and generally working out. This might mean that I've found a system of exercise that will keep my weight gain in check over the long term, so long as I stick to exercise. And will I? Unlike last times, I think so more than before. It's a 40's mindset. It's not having some of the major commitments on my plate that I did before (a newborn or infant at home, home remodel, etc.). Becky and I have talked a lot about this, and we both feel that we're entering a new phase as a couple, as individuals, and as a family. We have a little bit more time to focus on ourselves and our health than before we had kids, now that our family is complete. 

Still, I am determined to get down to 160 pounds by the end of this year. I have about 6 months to do that, and need to lose 13 pounds as of now. That amount to lose is almost the exact amount that I've lost over the first 5 months of this year. While I'm at a plateau now, I hope that summer will mean more biking, running, and a bit slower pace to enable longer work-outs, since we won't be rushing to get our family ready for school.

Wish me luck, and thanks for cheering on!

The Giraffe Report

Our Little Mouse has had a very fun year in 1st grade. She has blossomed personality-wise, and though she is still very quiet and likes to have alone-time, Mouse has made some good friends. I've had the good fortune to read to Mouse's class one morning each month this year. It's been fun to connect with her and her classmates, who have gotten to know me a little bit. 

On a recent reading visit, Mouse had ahead of time selected the books I would, and one of them featured a character who gets tickled a lot. At the end of the class, Mouse stood up, walked to where I was sitting, and started tickling me, in front of her classmates! When she was mercifully done, her classmates asked if they, too, could tickle me. Thankfully, the teacher and I agreed on the spot to put a halt to the tickle-fest. 

Recently, Mouse and her classmates had an assignment to write about an animal. They also had to draw a picture of it. Mouse chose a giraffe. This surprised us, because she loves horses and bunnies and, in general, small animals. A giraffe doesn't fit the "small animal" category. Here's her report:

The quality isn't great so it's hard to read her report. The top, yellow-bordered one asked students to use various action verbs and make them all end in -ing. The bottom, orange-bordered report basically describes a giraffe's behavior, eating habits, community, and other interesting tidbits -- one of which I didn't know: That a giraffe, while sleeping standing up, always has one eye open for danger. Like a whale, it can shut off part of its brain to sleep while the other part remains awake and alert.

Mouse was so excited to go with her classmates to Boston's Franklin Park Zoo a short time later, after their reports were done and left on the hallway wall for all to read. And I was the lucky dad that got to be a chaperone for Mouse's class! More on that later.

Timo's next car

My identity, for so many years, has been fairly straight-forward: Husband, father, son, friend, worker, church-goer. To these I, like everyone, add color, in my case: Red Sox fan, Star Wars fanatic, book lover, aspiring runner, blogger, journal-writer. 

Never in a million years would I have thought that a part of my identity could be this:

Automobile fan.

I've never been the type of person to drive around town and check out other cars. I don't concern myself with horse-power or supped-up features or the latest makes and models. To me, a car has been a practicality, not a luxury, and that has kept my interest in vehicles to the bare minimum. The few times I've gone car-shopping, my only questions have really been: "How much does it cost?" "How many miles on it?" "How many miles highway versus city?" "Can it reasonably lug some of my family's copious stuff around?" The basics. 

But as my last post noted, my 1998 Mazda is nearing the car bridge to the great beyond. So I have been, to my great surprise and enjoyment, actually doing the things I had never done before: book-marking dealer websites and car-guide websites, making a conscious effort to more closely look at what other people are driving with an eye to see if I like it, and seeing what would be reasonable for my needs. 

These are the vehicles I've got my eye on:

The Honda HR-V:

The Mazda CX-5:

The Subaru Crosstrek (my favorite make and model, in part because of the cool colors):

The Dodge Journey (a little too boxy for my liking, but good enough):

The Ford Escape:

The Subaru Outback:

And that's pretty much it. The Honda CR-V and the Subaru Forester are other popular cars that I see a lot, especially the CR-V. A rough estimate is that about 40% of the cars at my office parking lot (with about 150 spaces) are a CR-V model. I really like the Crosstrek and hope that my current car lasts long enough for the prices on the 2015 or '16 Crosstreks to come down a bit. It's nice to [knock on wood] not be in a rush for a new car and to have time to save up for something I really want. 

If you have one of these cars or have any feedback, I'd definitely appreciate it! 

141,000

My 1998 Mazda recently passed the 141,000 mile marker. I've had this vehicle since January 2002, and it was really my first car ever. [I had a 1984 Chevy Blazer in high school, but my parents financed a lot of that purchase]. 

Honestly, I never expected to have this '98er as long as I have. We're going on 14-and-a-half years together--that's longer than I've know Becky! This car pre-dates, by 2 years, the Red Sox winning their first World Series in 86 years. We've brought three of our four kids home from the hospital in it. That fact alone warrants me building a garage to house this car, as an addition to my planned future museum for our family, which I've joked about on this blog before. This joke isn't quite so funny to Becky, who hears about it often. 

Its slogan would be: Everything they've worn, touched, or played with, until age 18. 

Anyhow, back to my car: I want to get this ole beaut' to 150,000 miles. At the driving rate I'm going, this will likely be sometime next summer. That is, if this car lasts that long! It goes in to the mechanic's about once or twice a year, but we've figured out that the cost of repairs, plus the low excise tax and other factors, has been cheaper than buying a new car. 

Still, our kids have overheard me and Beck-o discussing a new car, so they've naturally thrown their two cents in to the discussion. It needs power windows (my current car doesn't have them), power doors (ditto), a workable CD player and iPhone hook-up, and a hood that has a better paint job. My '98er's hood has about half of its paint job chipped, frayed, and gone. 

It isn't a thing of beauty, but it gets me where I need to go for the months of the year when I can't be all gears not gas.

Dunk Time!

A few months ago, we installed our second set of bunk beds, this time in our boys' bedroom. Not too long after that, someone gave us this plastic basketball hoop and ball, and Grouse has been in a basketball heaven ever since! Most nights at bedtime, he'll take a few shots from various positions on the floor or on the bed, hanging over the wooden railing to drop his basketball in or near the hoop. 

And sometimes the ball actually goes in!

A lot of nights, Grouse will also insist on sleeping with the basketball in his crib. We (by which I mean, I) usually cave in, because he's asking for the ball at the very last step, or near the very last step, before he goes in his crib and I'm done with the bedtime routine for the night. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel of our hallway beckoning me to some reading, relaxation, chatting with Becky, etc. Of course you're going to get the basketball and sleep with it in your crib, my son!

Camp-Out, Tuckered Out

Lights Out!

Mouse and Mommy had a one-night over-nighter during April school vacation week with her Girl Scouts' Daisy Troop. They were no more than 15 minutes from home. Mouse really liked being with her friends and roughing it. And boy were they roughing it, as you can tell from the dormitory-like sleeping accommodations! Where is the tent?!

It was one of only a handful of nights over the last decade where I've been home as a single parent with some or all of our kids while Becky was gone. It wasn't, of course, exactly the get-away that Becky needs, which is why she and her good friend Alyson had a get-away earlier in the week.

Becky has been Mouse's Girl Scout Daisy troop co-leader for this past year. It's been a lot to juggle, as it is for any parent. I know we're all looking for a little breather this summer, when Girl Scouts and soccer and our church's Activity Days and homework and general hectic pace winds down for a bit.  

Headbanz with friends

Here is Our Baby Grouse with one of his best friends. They're just a few months apart, and over the last few months, they've grown closer. Time was not so long ago when they would see each other at church, or during a play date, when Grouse and his friend would playfully (or sometimes not) get all up in each other's business, ripping toys or books or food out of the other's clutches. 

I think it's sweet that someday we can show Grouse this photo and remark, "This was your first friend." And that's really the only reason why I wanted to post this.   

Burning Money

I'm a New England boy through-and-through. I'm used to weather oddities all year long. 

But today is Sunday, May 1st. It's 53 degrees outside. And our furnace is still on. Something is wrong with this. 

Needing to run our heater both before October 31st and beyond March 31st seems downright illegal to me. Our first year of marriage, Becky and I didn't turn on our apartment's heater (it was an oil furnace) until December 1st! I love that memory. We ate breakfast and dinner in November with ski caps on our heads. See, wasn't that a bonding experience?!

I've never been a beach person, but this unusually cool spring in New England makes me want to book a trip to someplace like this: