final words

final words, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

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

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

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

cutting things close

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

next year, don't forget

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

two cents

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

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

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

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

christmas unwrapped

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

christmas 2011. the late, lamented
percussion set

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

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

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

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

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

this year, yeah. he gets it.

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

gift from santa.

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

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


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

fisher-price farm building kit.

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

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

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

christmas eve

donut connection, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i remember september

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

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

happy birthday (this could be a problem)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

festive

snowflake, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

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

welcome to christmas at our house.

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

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

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

he's really got his christmas on.

witness:



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

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

us. christmas 2012.

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

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

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

all aboard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

we'll see where this train leads.

12.12.12

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

this was another 12 i was fond of this year.

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

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

catch 22

purely illustrative. baby not a month old here.

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

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

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

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

and then it's time to get up.

observant little monkey

had to go to beckley for a dental appointment today with my old college roommate and had lunch at mom and dad's afterward.

mom told me how impressed she was with the boy's increased language skills after spending time with him over the thanksgiving trip.

i told her he was also highly observant:

(The boy) just looked at me and said - i am not even kidding - 'mommy, you look sleepy.' oh. My. god.
— stuff kris sends (@textstogrumpnet) November 29, 2012

it takes a village

while daddy attends a lunch seminar, the boy is kept occupied.

first day back on the job after thanksgiving, i had to attend a lunch seminar for work.

kris needed a break to tend to the house, so i told her i'd take the boy out and run some errands.

knowing there would be pizza served and that the boy is currently on a kick where he likes wearing headphones to watch online video, i figured i could kill an easy hour with the boy by feeding him a slice of pepperoni and watching sesame street at my work station.

the kink in the plan came when the session was moved from the meeting room 10 feet from my desk to another one floor up. how the hell was i going to keep this boy from going ballistic in the newsroom?

as it turned out, not only was the boy content to sit, eat pizza and watch video, the newsroom was full of kind spirits nurturing his better angels.

i kept contact with our office manager via text message on his conduct, and she not only reassured me of his good behavior with photographic evidence, she even cut up his pizza. (after i hope he politely asked.)

one of our copy editors who had arrived for her shift ensured that his video feed was uninterrupted and interesting.

and our editorial page editor used her vantage right over his shoulder to keep tabs.

while i hope not to impose on my colleagues in this fashion any time soon, i'm glad to know that, with his cooperation, i can count on some kind souls to act as daddy's eyes, ears and hands to maintain a non-disruptive visiting entity in the workplace.

thanksgiving

after saying grace, the feast begins.

after missing the annual thanksgiving family gathering last year due to a bout of being knocked up, then skipping our myrtle beach trip after kris underwent some exploratory surgery, the family finally strapped on their helmets for the ultimate road warrior trip: charley west to west palm beach, fla. -- 14 hours of fast food, bagged snacks and diaper changes.

the trip down wasn't all that bad. we left about three hours later than we would have liked, owing to a blown deadline at the paper after the promise of a mandatory early press time, then some balky equipment changes switching from our jeep to dad's yukon. (seriously, i think we lost 30 minutes alone just trying to get a folded rear seat unstuck and upright. i was highly, highly pissed.)

plus leaving after midnight as we did, kind of screwed the major advantage of a night journey, which was having at least 9 hours of it conducted under cover of sleep-inducing darkness.

as it was, it worked in the exact opposite: 6 hours in darkness -- breakfast in savannah, ga. -- and eight during the day.

the children's slumber was fitful. the boy, in particular, was both excited at the prospect of seeing his cousins and the trip itself, which played havoc with his already disturbed sleep schedule.

the thanksgiving miracle: a noontime nap on i-95.

even after all that, he was fairly well-behaved, watching minimal video and staying busy with the activities his mama brought. he even took a two-hour nap after lunch, which was a miracle and kept him more or less fresh for an engagement with his cousins.

the girl was pretty much occupied with either sleeping or peering over at my mom.

the arrival on a wednesday, versus thanksgiving, when we've normally completed this trip, was good in so many ways. we got a real night's sleep before the big day, which left us free to actually participate with family activities instead of sleeping in another room. and our eating schedule was primed for a good-sized feast.

before the return trip home, auntie pamy finally gets the baby without tears.

all the children seemed to get along, although the baby wanted nothing to do with any of the women who were not her mommy. it was a coup for anyone to be able to hold her for any length of time without a great shedding of tears.

now the return trip? not as good. we left in the late afternoon and were ill-equipped.

in hindsight, i think moving the baby's carseat was a mistake in that it did not help her sleep well. (either that, or there was an unfortunate coinciding with a new round of teething.) until the last couple of hours of the trip, the poor monkey went on a jag where she couldn't go 10 minutes without crying.

the boy, was cranky with diaper issues and a desire for milk, which we failed to pack. (he's been drinking almond milk, since it's lactose-free. not having that, and drinking the regular stuff made for not fun diaper experiences.) so choosing not to give him any milk and his refusal to drink juice disrupted his already disrupted bedtime routine. he was a pissed-off chimp himself.

we arrived in beckley in time for breakfast. the boy ate lots of bacon and rice, then my mom kept him occupied in front of the television while first i, then his mama, took naps before making the final leg to charleston.

i think we learned some important travel lessons, especially for the girl, as this was her first big trip. and since this is usually the longest trip on the annual family itinerary, doing myrtle beach -- 8 hours -- or disney -- 12 -- should be a piece of cake. or at least a cookie.

and in the second week ...

while the rest of the state was digging out from the superstorm blizzard, there was a presidential election going on.

this would be the first general election we'd cover in the paper since we moved to an a.m. cycle, so staffing and working would be a whole new deal for us.

turned out everything worked out fine. we added two more staffers to copydesk to slot and paginate the inside stories and the other two of us did the front page and local front section.

even the election cooperated. what we thought would be a long, protracted affair involving some voter cock-up in florida or ohio, was instead settled before midnight on the east coast. barack obama was re-elected.

while there are probably hundreds of stories to document the hotly contested race that turned out to be no contest, i'll just link to the first news aggregator i ever heard of when i first got online back in the '90s -- slate.com -- for the day-after coverage and the day-after-the-day-after coverage. fascinating, albeit center-left, reading.

is this thing on?

note: 30 november 2012 -- the first draft of this post was begun on 9 november. apparently, blogspot remembers these things. then things got kind of hairy with the kids and the election and sleep and doctors appointments and thanksgiving and travel and i wound up completing it with outtakes from a column gleaned from this post. except for the lede and the kicker, i haven't edited what i began.

holy crap, what a month it's been.

didn't think i'd managed to go the month of november without posting until i realized my last entry essentially dismissing what we in the newsroom later described as the "big sandy superstorm" was in the last days of october.

our paper's front page on the
superstorm's effects in w.va.

well, what i'd derided as "frankenstorm" turned out to be the real thing as it battered and submerged the northeast and buried the southern part of the state with about two feet of snow.

it knocked out power to thousands here, including us, even as we had to deal with a good maybe 10 inches of snow here in charleston. (the weather service predicted the ground was too warm for the snow to accumulate; turned out they were wrong.)

the kids were up before the sun last tuesday and our day was getting under way when kris looked out the window early at the blanket of snow outside our house and wondered what was draped across her car. "is that a power line?"

 i put on my snow slippers and fleece jacket and grabbed a flashlight for an inspection. sure looked like it.

i followed the path of the wire drooping from the main line overhead to the side of our house. suddenly, that loud groan i heard in my slumber made sense. it wasn't something the cat knocked over or a stack of books tumbling in the den; it was our power meter and the wire conduit being pulled off the side of our house onto the ground by the weight of the snow on the line.

that wire touching kris' civic was live. well, it was until i heard two loud pops accompanied by bright flashes of light and our house went dark. two transformers blew not far from us. (about three or four more would follow in the next hour or so after i moved her car out from under the line and into our neighbor's driveway.)

a few phone calls later, we decided to take the family to kris' folks in parkersburg, where the weather was milder and the power was still on.

it would take some time to get packed and there we were with an antsy boy whose pre-school class was cancelled, along with all the county's schools, and who had no light for his darkened room to play and no television or laptop to distract him. what a perfect day to learn how to build a snowman.

the boy builds his first snowman.

the little goober was psyched to get out there. we dressed him in insulated pants, boots, a quilted coat and a mismatched pair of mittens.

daddy got started on a base for the snowman and the boy got the idea to begin packing more snow atop it.

i began work on a torso, which rolled quite nicely in the heavy, wet snow. we began packing more onto this section.

as his attention span wandered, he began eating his snowballs, then wanted some juice. daddy kept working while the boy tended his appetite.

things began going south after that. his mittens, a polyester knit of some sort, had grown wet from the snow. and, coupled with the cold, they began making his hands hurt. in his frustration, he knocked out the snowman's torso before i could add the dude's head.

he began crying and holding up his aching paws and i took him inside, warming his hands with mine. his mama began running them under warm water as i started loading the car for the trip.

this was going to have to be a strict, in-and-out operation: drop off the family, unpack their provisions and car seats and turn around for home so i could get to work.

things got dicey on the drive up. it seemed the storm was following us up north, which worried kris. one lane of interstate seemed to be getting covered with snow. but once we got past ripley and ravenswood, the snow seemed to stop accumulating and the skies were mostly just gray and wet.

parkersburg felt just as cold as charleston, but there was no time to compare notes.

we made the switches, i kissed my children and wife and thanked my in-laws, then hit the road for home.

the help

as help goes, today i got some pretty good.

as the city will be trolling our streets this week -- assuming the dreaded "frankenstorm" just dumps rain on us -- it will be vacuuming the leaves piled off the street in front of residents' homes. (a handy way to avoid bagging, i learned last year.)

so after a field trip to a putnam county pumpkin farm and a nap, i took it upon myself to move those leaves over our retaining wall onto the shoulder off the road.

the boy, having taken a long nap, was roused to join me in the dusky drizzle. (obviously, this shot is from another time.)

where normally his enthusiasm would fizzle out as the drudgery began settling in, he maintained an enthusiasm equal to the simplicity of the task: pick up and throw leaves.

as the pile got smaller, his intensity increased and he did a pretty fine job tossing them to where they could be sucked up.

the rest of the time, he practiced stomping his new boots in rain as i tried to rake what i could onto that narrow parcel of land.

(i'll try to take a picture of the results tomorrow. it's the cleanest my yard's ever looked in the autumn. and just to keep the gutters cleared of what detritus i could in advance of this anticipated precipitation, i blew the leaves out again yesterday after i was actually able to mow the yard for the last time this year. i don't think i've ever had it cut so low. the deck was low enough that it actually mulched the leaves. it was fantastic.)

anyway, i was glad to have his little hands helping. now if he could only actually listen while he "washes" the dishes instead of playing with the sponges and the water.

 update: here's the shot from sunday morning. not too shabby if i say so myself.

party foul

learned a tough lesson yesterday regarding the boy and kid party food: watch the sugar intake.

his preschool had a halloween bash with activities and food. the attendance times were staggered, i think, based on attention span, which meant the boy's class was probably last, with only half an hour of activity before treats were served.

and what treats. i think things went in increasing order of deliciousness, ie, sugar content: juice, then orange halves converted into fruit cups, then a big, thick chocolate chip cookie, and, finally, a giant cupcake with gobs of icing.

kris didn't seem to concerned, as they were "sometime foods," as the foodies on sesame street like to say.

but we paid the price for the rest of the day. despite her best efforts to burn off some of that excess sugar with a trip to the park before returning home, the boy was wired and had a surfeit of energy to fight off his afternoon nap.

it got pretty ugly. toddler on mommy violence followed by lots of wailing while on room confinement. things did not settle down until bath and bedtime. an early bedtime.

party lesson: watch the sugar. intercept and reduce when possible. wow.

connections

He keeps telling me he's going to put me into a pie in mr. Mcgregor's garden.
— stuff kris sends (@textstogrumpnet) October 23, 2012

this was a text from kris this afternoon. it's like the boy's synapses just keep connecting. and his memory astounds both his mama and me.

he's gotten very much into his picture books, including "the tale of peter rabbit," which he has us read before he goes to sleep or, if it tickles his fancy, during the course of some random day.

kris and i try to imbue our readings with life and morality lessons.

no hitting; no kicking; no throwing things around, for example. this, from michael chabon's "the astonishing secret of awesome man."

when we read "peter rabbit," we try to impress upon him how bad things can happen if you don't listen to mommy.

you could end up in a pie, as peter's father did, when he trespassed on mr. mcgregor's property.

after the second or third reading, it's amazing what he recalls. page by page and picture by picture, he knows what's happening.

then he brings it up as part of his fanciful daily conversation. sometimes it takes a moment before you realize that he's referencing what you've read him and your jaw drops a little.

so i'm not quite sure what he meant today, although he did indicate this morning that one does not want to wind up in a pie in mr. mcgregor's garden.

whatever it is, i hope he's just teasing.

update: kris informs me that the boy was piling everything he owned on top of her as she lay on the couch this evening. apparently, this layering was his effort to make her into a pie.

digesting

well, i can honestly say i've never known a football season at west virginia u like the one i've experienced so far.

outrageous, off-the-charts scoring in one ballgame, then a beatdown like i've never seen before. and after both games, the feeling i had was indescribable.

well, not really. the first was such a jolt of joyous, gleeful pleasure that i had nothing to compare it to. it was magic.

the second, however, is a kissing cousin to previous experiences i've had at mountaineer field in that we lost.  it's just that i've never been eyewitness to a loss like the one we had against kansas state's wildcats saturday night.

i'm accustomed to heartbreaking defeats or even shoulder-shrugging acceptance of scoring gaps we just weren't going to close -- games where we were right there in it until the final quarter or last play before things extended beyond our reach.

i stayed until the end of those because i always stayed until the end of our victories. i counted myself among their followers when my team was winning, so i was not going to abandon them when they were losing. (i've joked that it's like making sure they don't die alone.)

saturday's game was different; we never had a chance -- probably from the get-go.

my friend and i arrived a little late, but we hadn't been sitting ten minutes before i sensed that the crowd was not in the game. it was absolutely dead. this was a crowd expecting fireworks -- and it didn't know what to do when nothing happened.

personally, i put some blame on the night kickoff for having legions mellowed out from an afternoon of food and drink and disenchanted after the team's first loss of the season last week.

it was going to take a lot to get them engaged. and when drive after drive ended with no points for us and an accumulation of scores for the visitors, the mountaineer faithful became disbelieving passengers on a flight in a death spiral.

this was different from ballgames where all i'd have to do is walk to my sister's place and pass out for the night. there was going to be about three hours of sitting in traffic then dejectedly speeding down the interstate before i'd reach my bed.

so as the game slipped further and further out of reach, i began making the deal with myself mid-way through the third quarter. when the wildcats passed 50, it was time to go.

we were on our way out at the 2:52 mark with the score 52-14.

old feelings that i'd thought i could finally put to rest just two weeks ago resurfaced. a promising season seemingly being fulfilled in spectacular fashion comes crashing down in a humiliating and public display.

after nearly 30 years of following these guys through near-misses and sweet redemption, you find ways to protect yourself from what we've come to regard as the inevitable disappointment these guys will leave you with.

despite watching eye-popping performances and a swagger i hadn't sensed in years, until i saw a crystal trophy being raised in triumph, i was not going to invest my feelings in this team; not after what decades of painful lessons have taught.

and sure enough, before it was 10 p.m. yesterday, the whole case for guarded optimism and waiting for the other shoe to drop was validated.

this is a team that will break your heart. and year-in, year-out, it keeps coming up with new ways to do it.

doomed

you know why i think my west virginia mountaineers are in for a rude, primetime tv, stadium-clearing awakening?

because i don't think kansas state makes mistakes.

because i think they're going to eat clock and fluster us enough that we don't score the necessary points to win..

because when we have every reason to win, we play as if reasons are all we need to win.

but mostly because matt hayes thinks we'll destroy them. (this is the same dude who gave five reasons wvu would appear in the bcs title game the week we got our bell rung by texas tech.)

call me superstitious. or just your typical, fatalistic mountaineer fan.

my girl

a shameful confession: my baby girl is almost a year old and i don't feel like i've spent enough time with her.

the past ten months have been such a blur that this pretty little thing has arrived at the brink of walking and it seems i'm only now discovering her.

those first days and weeks of holding this tiny person seem to have faded into barely recoverable memory.

the feeding and changing and swaddling -- the tactile things -- seem like history. i can scarce believe she could fit entirely in the crook of my arm.

maybe it was having to balance attention and energy between her and her bewildered, jealous brother.

maybe it was the grind of being a more senior editor on staff now with more responsibility than when our boy was born. i come home from work every night tired and more focused on rest and less on being in the moment of fatherhood -- much less than i was the first time around.

on the other hand, unlike the early days of me and the boy, mama is home 24/7 and we have no need for daycare. those hours between his waking and my dropping him off were our alone time. i don't think i had too much of that with the girl.

these days, with her naps overlapping the boy's new activities, i get to spend time with her when she wakes up until kris and the boy come home. this can be a couple of hours.

so these stolen moments with the little girl have turned into a delightful re-introduction to the other wee person in our home. and just in time, too. her little personality is starting to come through.

judging by the way with which she zeroes in on her brother's toys and voices her disapproval of his efforts to take hers, i can see she's going to be a pistol.

but by the same token, you need only look at the way she looks at her brother and you only see adoration. i'm going to be paying close attention to these two.

'like falling from heaven to earth'

that was dad talking after west virginia u took its first loss of the season.

i think he liked our chances as much as everyone else in the country. oh well.

while i expected some "told you so" backlash from the national publications, they were mostly matter-of-fact and pointed out long-held concerns. (still waiting to hear from matt hayes, though the sporting news itself was at least as understanding as the rest.)

at least i was spared the frustration of watching or even listening to the game being on the road to visit my aunt and cousins who stopped for a visit at flat top.

focusing on family proved to be a lifesaver yet again, as the long drive home was spent trying to be quiet enough to let the kids sleep and being on the lookout for deer.

(i'm not sure i wouldn't have traded it for a wvu win, but having a drive back without much crying from either child was blessing i was most grateful for.)

(on the other hand, maybe it was time for some of the air to be let out of the hype balloon. what better slap upside the head than a loss to get you focused on the second half of the season?)

well, if nothing else, the day was productive in that i did get to visit with relatives i haven't seen in a while.

plus, i got a huge jump on the leaf-raking before they got matted down by rain and their own weight. i even got to blow out the gutters, though probably not the last time this season.

the boy even got into the act, raking as young people do, which is until they get bored, which for him was about a minute. he did seem to enjoy walking through the piles, which kept him out of mommy's hair until they headed out for an early afternoon birthday party.

kris told me his behavior there was exemplary, btw. eating pizza like a frat boy, drinking his beverage out of a big boy cup and using his please's and thank you's.

this did not continue when he met the cousins, though. as soon as stepped in the door, he was the instant focus of attention by a room full of strangers. he literally turned around, opened the door and ran. i didn't catch up to him until he was forced to scamper gingerly on the gravel-strewn road in his bare feet.  i picked him up.

"i want go home," he said, knocking off my glasses for emphasis. "we're not doing that," i said, and carried him screaming into the house.

kris finally traded the baby for him and talked him off the ledge. he spent most of his time in front of the tv, though, and didn't approach or talk to anyone until it was time to leave.

kris despairs of the boy ever being his chatty, funny, smart self in front of my family instead of some brain-damaged tasmanian devil.

10-11-12

i just wanted to have a post for today, so here it is. (by the skin of my teeth and in a major cheat*.)

this is the boy as he waited for mama to take him to pre-school.

it was school picture day and there was some question as to what he'd wear.

"i don't want something too precious," kris said. i agreed.

oddly enough, we both seemed to think a striped shirt was in order.

(i had in mind much thinner stripes, similar to my recollections of school pictures of other kids, but that's probably because it was the 1970s.)

we'd hoped to have the boy get a proper haircut in advance of the shoot, but the barber shop's kid haircut specialist was off wednesday.

eh. he'll be the scruffy, devilishly handsome kid in the composite.

and lest we let this date go without a milestone: his sister, in a major breakthrough, slept through the night. no feeding, no changing. kris was ecstatic. now if we can only get the room exchange completed that we've been planning since last year.

* i posted the pic with a line of text and added more copy later. so sue me.

how do they do this every week and not be dead?

tasty signs of fall

pumpkin lasagne, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

a cool, drizzly curtain seemed to have been drawn over the last warm rays of summer this weekend. it put the missus in mind for some autumnal victuals.

fall means pumpkins to kris and one of her favorite dishes is pumpkin lasagne.

filled with creamy pumpkin, collard greens (in lieu of swiss chard) and mozarella cheese, it's got a savory, satisfying flavor and texture that says lasagne.

then for breakfast this morning, she surprised the boy with banana muffins. he wouldn't eat his until i called it a "cupcake."

they were just sweet enough and a nice sugar/cinnamon topping that made for a crunchy counterpoint to the moist cake.

(she meant to add ground flax seed for a hit of omega-3 nutrition, but she forgot. oh, well. next time.)

finally, at the end of the day, the boy spied popcorn in one of the storybooks he was looking at and asked mama for some.

oddly enough, we had a jar in the house and kris made it old-school style on the stovetop.

she seasoned it with smart balance spread and salt. the boy munched happily on it. (he had watched his first movie in a theater last saturday -- "finding nemo 3-d" -- and sat propped up with a bucket of buttered popcorn on his lap. kris said he love the stuff.)

now she's ready for hot cocoa and giada de laurentis' baked mac and cheese. (not at the same time, i hope.)

(i thought i was going to write a blog post that didn't mention football or the children for a change, but i was wrong.)

deep in the heart of texas

still buzzing after last night's big big 12 conference win over texas.

i suppose i could post a hundred links, but i'll just post to my friends over at the smoking musket for a collection of game accounts and analyses.

seriously, this was the game i'd been anticipating ever since the orange bowl win and the conference schedules came out. this would test our mettle, not just from the players' standpoint, but our coaches, too.

listening on the radio and doing laundry for about four hours, i got to experience real-time jitters, astonishment, despair and a vindicating joy.

and again, the biggest gametime stress-reliever this season proved to have been my boy.

late in the fourth quarter, after a fumble deep in our own territory, the longhorns recovered. i was sure we were dead.

then cries came out from the lad's room -- a nightmare must have had him upset and crying out in his sleep.

it took a few minutes to calm him down -- rubbing his back, stroking his hair and face, replacing his blankets, anything to get him back to sleep.

my mind couldn't be anywhere except in that darkened room, so i focused on easing him back. then by and by, he was quiet enough that i could kiss him good night and close his door.

i returned to the living room expecting to be down by four or at least tied. instead, after a simultaneous check of an online game thread and listening to the play-by-play, lo and behold, our lead was still intact. texas came up empty after a muffed snap and an ensuing field goal attempt.

i was sorry to have missed the action, but a few minutes of distress were alleviated by being a father instead of a football fan. it was kinda validating to see that maintaining priorities paid off in more than one way.

it's cheeseburger and fry day

i hate flash, but at least you can see how he deconstructs his cheeseburger.

i hate flash, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

well, he must be my son.

as the boy and his mom and sister were on their way to join me at the y for an afternoon at the pool, he informs mama that "it's cheeseburger and fry day" and he wants a "burger sandwich" and french fries for supper.

bold request from the lad who had so far turned up his nose at just about every form of red meat offered to him.

(and where the hell did he hear of such a thing, anyway? i don't think elmo, curious george or blues clues is hawking burgers. his getting burned out on wendy's chicken nuggets may have prompted this. who knows?)

so after our dip in the pool, the boy was hungry. as i loaded him into the car, kris and i looked at each other. were we really going to do this?

"order his plain," i said. "he doesn't seem to like condiments." we had no idea if he was going to go through with it, but chose to go without a backup meal.

the boy's first big bite of burger.

the moment of truth arrived when kris walked into the house with a wendy's bag of burgers and fries for her and me -- and a cheeseburger kids meal for the boy.

we divvied up the bags' contents, holding the tempting distraction of his beloved "freh fries" in abeyance, and unwrapped his sandwich.

he began by holding the thing in both hands and nibbled at the top and bottom of the bun, i suppose because even a small burger was too big for him to bite through cleanly.

but as i rooted through a bag, he took the big top bun off and began biting and breaking off mouthfuls of the rest of the burger. and he ate the dang thing like a champ.

a little meat here, a little bun there, some fries from mama to keep him going, and by the end, he ate all his bread and all but about three little bites of burger.

and in the midst of his first burger-fest, he turns to kris and says, "this is delicious. thanks, mommy." a day of miracles and wonders.

now i don't know if this is going to change next week, but it's nice to see he's added a new food to his diet.

wvu videos

i thought there were more of these, but i guess i forgot them. this is from west virginia u after the baylor game.



and this was from espn.


i'd have used fox sports, which actually broadcast the game, but they don't embed. oh, well.

storified post: enjoying it while it lasts

the last time we slept in

ok. because of this post, i'm trying to be in the ballpark of the last time the boy had to wait for mommy or daddy to go into his room to get him up and out of bed.

so it was the beginning of august (that long ago?) that he got his big boy bed.

it wasn't but a few days later that he began waking up pissed off and in such a mood that we'd ask him, "do you want to go back to bed?" before trundling him off for a thrashing, supine time-out.

it was probably two or three weeks ago, then, that i'd hear his little feet hit the floor, followed by his heavy footfalls to his bedroom door, the noisy jiggling of its knob and a steady advance to where i was asleep. (these days, the couch, where i await the baby not sleeping in mommy's bed.)

his present greeting, as he sidles up to me, is "oh, hi, daddy. whatcha do-nin'? i ha' a great sleep." as it is now fall, the sun is not yet up at 6:30 or 7 a.m. (a friend with a nephew a year or so older than the boy warned me of this. "enjoy sleeping in while you can," was the gist of it.)

if i can't get back to sleep after an early morning baby feed where i'm giving mama a hand, then i hear him talk to himself for a few minutes before he gets up.

this used to be our only signal that it was about time to get him out of his crib/bed. i never could get a recording device close enough to his room to capture his early morning babble soliloquies, or likely not now, with his more decipherable story set-ups, usually involving bus stations and a place called "robot city."

when he was in his crib, it usually took a cry of some sort to prod us from our efforts to catch those last winks of sleep. now our alarm clock comes to us.

second wvu game

it's not down to a science, but was a bit better prepared for the boy at his next west virginia football game.

this time, employed a blue's clues fire engine, a reporter's pad and pen and a bagful of wheat thins sticks to keep him more or less seated.

(didn't have to break out the transformer action figure or the brownie bar.)

he definitely got more into the spirit of things, shouting "let's go!" whenever daddy did. he even hollered "wes' ginia!" during a lull in the action, which elicited a few "aww's."

when the boys in front of us went out for beverages, he stood on their bleacher and danced to the stadium music.

but ... he was ready to play football by the time the first half was over.

so we made our way through the crowds toward the north endzone touchdown terrace by way of the concession stand for a pretzel ("i hongry") and a miller lite (daddy thirsty).

i steered the boy by the top of his head as he noshed on a barely warmed-over salted pretzel and i sipped my beverage. (would have liked video of me holding beer and pretzel in the same hand.)

the teen in the gray no. 12 jersey was nice enough to catch the ball
from the boy whenever he'd throw at him.

the teenagers tossing their football around were kind enough to hand the boy's ball back to him when he threw their way, as was the row of high school girls he kept chatting up and high-fiving.

he met a classmate of mine
i've known since junior high.

there was a lot less chasing the boy around and more engaging him with ball tossing and walking the terrace. he even sat for a photo with a high school classmate of mine who was working the game.

we walked to my sister's place in a brief drizzle. i carried him on my shoulders for about a half-mile and he walked the rest of the way, pausing to pick up a couple of rocks, one of which he heaved into the street. luckily, no cars were passing.

a short break later and we were on the road home. he passed out somewhere along the mileground and again woke up at bridgeport. more french fries, but i think he's getting tired of chicken nuggets.

storified post: waiting for the other shoe

my first effort at storifying a blog post.

a fluke? or a trend?

the boy seemed to get a kick out of the waves generated by the boats on flat top.

during our visit to my folks down in beckley, the boy had a few non-exemplary moments -- screaming, mostly, including in the middle of the night -- which kris and i had come to live with, and hoped to live through.

these were new to mom and dad, who had the opportunity to view them minus the background noise of at least five other small people -- a.k.a. his cousins -- that normally distracts from his getting individual attention.

watching him be noisily stubborn or contrary led to some breakfast conversation rolling around what we're doing to curb this kind of behavior and when we were going to become concerned by it.

(my feeling then and now is that this is typical 2-year-old behavior. i'll consider it a problem when he's 4. mom's query, "what then?" didn't exactly floor me, but it did seem a dig, as if we weren't doing anything to make it stop. my point was that if, after all our efforts for the next two years come to naught, then maybe we'll need a professional.)

his behavior didn't seem to improve on a visit to kris' folks the following weekend. there was screaming and hitting and a spectacular abuse of kris' eyeglasses -- holding them in his mouth so he could leverage the breaking of the arm to the most precise degree.

but in conversation with my folks, mom suggested we at least try pre-school. perhaps a structured environment, another adult besides kris or myself telling him what to do, and other children his age would give his mind some room to roam.

if there was no improvement in a few months, she said, pull him out. so we signed him up for two days a week and held our breath.

well, three sessions in, and no complaints yet from his teacher. when asked by kris if he'd been screaming, she looked at kris as if she were nuts. "heavens, no." was this our boy she was talking about?

weird thing came that evening. got a text from kris saying how agreeable he'd been all day and how there'd been no meltdowns, no screaming and no hitting. we were both waiting for the other shoe to drop.

then came this:

(Boy) cleared the table, put dishes in sink and helped dry.
— stuff kris sends (@textstogrumpnet) September 13, 2012

except for a middle-of-the-night episode that require a couple of re-tuckings and lullaby singings, he was as good as gold.

tonight, after an evening swim at the ywca and a day of benign, relatively quiet toddler mischief, he ate more supper, watched an episode of curious george, read a book, then declared he'd skip a pre-bed snuggle with mommy and daddy because "i want to go to sleep."

and there he is. kris says this is his third night in a row he's done this. not quite sure what to make of all of it. have more synapses connected here? you know -- the ones where obedience and recognition of consequences are attached?

i'm not ready yet to say we've turned a corner, but i'll take it -- and take these days as proof that prayer works.

in medium. and large.

West Virginia running back Andrew Buie "de-cleats" Marshall linebacker Cortez Carter on a busted play. He’s 5-9, 190 pounds. The victim here is two inches taller and 35 pounds heavier.

my west virginia mountaineers get some exposure this week after their impressive showing against marshall in last saturday's coal bowl.

one of my favorites was this gif from a website that just makes these moving clips that shows a massive block delivered by wvu running back andrew buie. it popped up within hours of the game.

the next day, an espn blog ran their three favorite entrance videos for teams as they took the field. wvu's was the first.



even public radio got into the act, as american public media's marketplace ran a piece on wvu's efforts to control drunkenness at ballgames by selling beer. here's a niece interview with athletic director oliver luck.


(btw, thanks to colleague and wvu sports beat writer extraordinaire mike casazza the last two items.)

haven't seen this kind of attention since wvu's last media lovefest in coach bill stewart's first season. (specifically, before the highly-ranked team's first loss and subsequent descent into maddening above-averageness for the next three years.)

of course, success breeds success, does it not? no one would be paying attention if we'd begun the year with a loss. the news angles will keep coming only so long as the team keeps winning.

i'll enjoy the love for as long as it lasts -- and i hope it's a long time.

walker, w.va. ranger

put the girl behind the walker i'd given my eldest niece about 10 years ago. mayhem ensued.

parent's pledge

finally, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

i will do my best to not let fatigue and frustration rob me of the joy of being a parent to a little boy.

Via Flickr:
knocked out after a super-late bedtime. unfortunately, he would wake up screaming in about an hour.

first wvu game

first wvu game, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

originally, kris, the boy and i were supposed to go this last west virginia-marshall football game, but it turned out all children have to pay full admission to ballgames now, so it was going to have to be two of us.

behavioral issues with the boy kind of put the kibosh on subjecting her parents with a ticking time bomb, so i went with the boy.

i actually thought i'd be able to follow through on plans to meet pam and tim, a couple of high school friends i've been keeping contact with for the past decade.

i figured tailgate at a colleague's house, game, then supper with friends while traffic died down.

yeah, that was delusional.

after a night of constant wake-ups from said boy, i awoke groggy at 7 for a noon kick-off and a two-hour drive ahead of us.

a quick breakfast, shower and packing of supplies and we were on the road in about an hour and a half after an atm stop.

the munchkin actually amused himself for most of the trip up -- looking at books, peppering me with questions and observations and just staring at the scenery.

he was running out of things to do when i figured we'd better eat before we hit town or we'd never get to the game. plus the promise of french fries again saved my bacon.

chicken nugget kids meal for him and a quarter pounder with cheese for me from the bridgeport mcdonald's and we were back on the road.

traffic was congested, but moving, so we made it to my sister's place long enough to change a diaper and slather the boy with sunblock.

then we began the mile-long walk to the mountaineer field. (and by "walk," i mean me carrying him on my shoulders.)

we made it to our seats just as wvu scored its first touchdown. an air raid siren went off, which startled the boy, but he seemed to get into the spirit of things quickly enough.

the humidity made the mild heat this side of miserable. i was constantly wiping my brow. i did my best to keep the boy hydrated.

he started getting squirmy around the second quarter as i tried to keep him from heading down the stairs and into the sea of humanity.

the sweet couple sitting next to me handed an envelope and a pen for him to draw with. i remarked that i should have brought toys, but i was most grateful for their thoughtfulness.

whatever improvements were alleged to have been made to help mobile phone reception at the stadium were not evident, as numerous text and voice messages to pam and tim went unreturned.

as the half wound down, the boy said he wanted to play football, which i think is what he thought we were going up there for.

so i went to the grassy entry at the north end of the stadium where he could run around. with so many footballs flying from all the boys playing in the area, i figured it would be a good idea to get one for mine.

so he threw it and ran with it and kicked it. then he found where the maintenance crews were dropping off containers of garbage and gravitated to the containment area where he could better step in whatever was leaking toward the storm drains.

(he followed that up by playing "dancing waters" at both handicapped water fountains.)

meantime, though, we ran into cathy, a friend of mine from junior high, who now works for wvu. she seemed tickled by the little guy -- or maybe my efforts to keep him corralled.

(if i'd have been thinking staight, i would have had a picture taken of the three of us, but i suspect the boy would have started screaming if tried constraining him for a photo.)

with all the scoring going on, i assumed the game was nearly over, so we meandered back to the south end of the stadium in hopes of finding my friends.

no answers from the phone. and all that scoring happened in the third quarter.

tried an abortive trip back to our seats, but the meltdown had begun. i waved goodbye to the lovely couple and started down the stairs.

on our way out, we had a picture taken by a stadium worker, then hoofed it back to my sister's.

there was no actual meltdown, by the way. the tiredness, heat and humidity just made the boy pliable, rather than irritable.

we chatted the whole way back to the house. he made observations and extrapolations about who should play the sax after we passed the busking saxophonist who played "the william tell overture" when he saw me carrying the boy. (i wasn't able to tip him.)

a quick diaper change for him, some electrolyte replenishing orange juice for me from my sister's fridge and we were back on the road.

traffic looked like gridlock, but it actually moved, glacial though it was until we hit route 705. then it was up to highway speed once we hit the interstate.

the boy, after dismantling a pen from my sister, fell asleep not a mile from her house. he stayed that way through bridgeport, where he awoke pissed and in urgent need of french fries.

more nuggets and a double cheeseburger from the bridgeport wendy's and we were southbound again.

alternately munching fries and nuggets, the boy was happy for the better part of an hour.

i tossed back the kids meal prizes and handed him a play ball and this weird collapsing tube that he sang into and used as a megaphone.

by the time we hit kanawha county, he was ready to see mommy. somehow, we began singing "old macdonald," which was probably inspired by a recent "blues clues" dvd we picked up.

this gave us enough fodder to discuss who doesn't "p.u." -- curious george, the man with the yellow hat and some person named "mrs. glass."

("p.u." was the sound he decided caterpillars make after i'd asked him what other animals old macdonald had.)

we drove up our hill as i handed him the last french fry. after pulling into our alley, he was ready to see mommy.

funny thing about this trip, as i told kris. i didn't get to do the things i wanted to do, but having a boy keep it together for almost 12 hours was what i needed more than a boy who'd behave at a grown-up's tailgate or in a post-game dinner at a sports bar or other sit-down venue.

(the bonus from being off center was that i got to watch a ballgame where my concern was not with the action on the field, but in the stands. it was a nice way to attain some detachment -- a distraction from my diversion.)

Via Flickr:
the boy accompanied me for the season opener, the last coal bowl game between west virginia u and marshall.

mess magnet

puddle, a photo by grumpnet on Flickr.

seriously, leave it to this boy to find the only sand and puddle on a field trip to downtown charleston.

we went to the library specifically so we could steer clear of the wooded areas near our local playgrounds.

these days, the boy takes a cursory tour around the equipment, takes a perfunctory slide, climb and/or swing, then lights out for the nearest plot of bare earth or open water.

surely the library would be safe, wouldn't it? an old postal building built in grand federal style surrounded by blocks of office buildings and businesses?

no. i assumed he'd play in the water fountain. fine. but then he finds this, and dirty leftover sandbox sand from the book festival earlier this summer.

he spent about half an hour throwing sand into this puddle. just ridiculous.

our boy can even make "city life" a dirty mess.

Via Flickr:
boy finds puddle on a bone-dry day in the middle of downtown charleston.