38 and the Wayback Machine

I am now 38 years old. My birthday has generally always fallen on Memorial Day weekend, and this year was no exception. Definitely a fringe benefit and, these days, a fortunate calendrical redemption. No, I haven't turned into one of those 'dread my birthday' or 'another year closer to the grave' personas, but 38 feels a little...significant...this year. The forthcoming reward of the new house definitely takes the sting out of any birthday anxiety, however.

The long weekend was spent, work-free, with my family and it felt great. Thanks to all who wished me well via card, phone, email and voicemail. For those of you who didn't, don't sweat it. Chances are, I've forgotten more than one of your birthdays...and probably more than once.

Since bounce houses and Red Rover have long been off my birthday itinerary for some time, I think I found a new way to celebrate. It's called, "Introduce Your Mom to Google Earth". The most fun I had this weekend was touring the virtual globe on the phone with my mom as we visited the sites of our past lives, scrolling along roads, zooming in on neighborhoods and recounting times thought forgotten. We probably spent three hours on Sunday night reminisicing over our childhoods and beyond, leveraging the memory-inducing power of Google Earth. I recommend it to everyone...a great activity to share with loved ones. And it's not just for birthdays anymore.

Winds of change

Every few months, I happen across a story about the Mars rovers and become absolutely enthralled with the idea that those two little buggers have been roaming the Red Planet for more than three years -- and more than 10 times longer than their expected mission life. A recent story talks about how Spirit discovered rich deposits of silica, yet another compelling find suggesting the presence of water in plentitude at some point in the planet's history.

Turns out each rover was only expected to travel 600 meters, but each have traversed nearly 10 kilometers of terrain. Don't you just wonder if there's a whole group of Martians standing just off camera, pondering the little RC moon buggy? Do you think they know that an entire planet is behind the lens, marveling at the smallest details of every ubiquitous rust-colored rock? I wonder if they get bored watching it for more than a few hours, rolling multi-faceted eyes and snorting through throat-sacs something like, "Oooh, maybe it'll move a whole FIVE centimeters today. Let's go get some Snausages."

Either way, here's a pretty cool animation that got me daydreaming of red vistas and roiling dustdevils. (Click the image to see another friggin' planet.)

Girls with far away eyes

Before Sydney went off to L.A. with her girl scout troop on Saturday, I told her how exciting it was that she was able to do things without Lori and me. I told her that it was when she first went to pre-school that the reality set in that she was beginning a lifetime of experiences not witnessed by either of her parents. At the time, that was a disquieting, foreign experience for us -- our only little girl off in the big world alone -- but one that we resigned ourselves to.

Today, I picked up the girls from school. I sat at their lunch tables outside the back of the school for about 10 minutes, waiting for the girls to converge from either side of the courtyard at the predetermined meeting spot. The bell rang and Sydney came out first from my left side. As the classroom door opened, Sydney was fully immersed in a conversation with her best friend and it took her twenty or thirty seconds to even notice me, despite the fact that I was five feet away. I took special notice of her eyes, which seemed very distant, and saw that she was engaged in her own life. Once she fully acknowledged my presence, her eyes cleared and she was my giggly little first-born again, but I was really taken by the experience, however mundane. It's like her eyes were misted over with the creation of memories. Memories formed for six hours a day in a world I'll never experience with the depth and wonder that she does daily. I know what those days were like for me at that age...I'm just grateful I got to get a glimpse of hers today.

On two days during this Mr. Mom stint, I've taken Emelie to Mathnasium. It's a tutoring center for, what else, math that Emelie's been attending two days a week for a few months now. Her teacher recommended it to help her sharpen her skills. Not that she is deficient, but her teacher thought it would help her get the confidence she needs in class. It's been great for her. Emelie's embraced the experience, and Lori and I both feel she enjoys it because it's her own...one thing for which she hasn't followed in Sydney's footsteps. Dropping her off there on both occasions, I see her say goodbye to me and set off on a programmed pattern of activities. I had no idea what I was supposed to do when I got there, so I kind of stood by the door and smiled simply like the half-dozen non-English speaking parents there. Emelie proceeded to her shelf, got her workbook and waved at me sweetly, but dismissively. She, too, set off into her own world.

I realize to many people reading this, and most parents who have six- and/or nine-year old children, that this kind of amazement over the routines of their children's lives may smack of disinterest. The fact that I'm only now appreciating these little nuances of their lives is not a reflection of any lack of concern on my part, but it's an unfortunate reality of my role in this family and the price of enabling Lori to stay home. I'm fortunate that we are able to have Lori stay home and avoid many of the pitfalls of a two-working-parent household -- which is, frankly, more the norm than the exception in Orange County.

I'm happy that Lori gets to witness this day-to-day evolution. While my discoveries come weeks and even months in between, I absolutely marvel at the ability of the smallest things to make such a big impact.

Mr. Mom for a weekend

Lori went to Iowa at the crack of dawn on Saturday for her niece's high school graduation, leaving me to hold down the fort for three and a half days. It's just been me and the two rugrats for nearly 48 hours now, and it's been simply blissful. Being with my daughters one-on-one and one-on-two for that much time is a true joy. Lori is a phenomenal mother and I realize, in her absence, just how much I take for granted her daily structure and cat herding acumen. Being the sole cook, chauffeur and caregiver definitely puts me fully in tune with the girls.

Sydney had virtually a full day off-site yesterday as she went up to L.A. with her girl scout troop. They went to the American Girl store up there to have tea and shop for doll stuff. Sydney's recently taken to these American Girl dolls, and was extremely excited to go clothes shopping for Nicki, her doll. Turns out, you can buy matching outfits for yourself, so Sydney used hard-earned allowance money to buy herself a shirt and skirt identical to her doll's. She came home in full bubbly mode.

That left Emelie and me to fend for ourselves. After taking her to Mathnasium, we got some frozen yogurt and spent a generally leisurely afternoon and evening, playing board games, watching a video and reading books. I tested my culinary prowess on nuke-able Mac and cheese and enjoyed watching the sun go down on a delightful day.

Today, we all went to Sydney's season-end softball party. It was a swimming affair, and the girls had a blast in the pool. Sydney actually jumped off the tall diving board into 11-foot water. I'm still amazed that she did it, recalling how, about three or four years ago, she'd have spasms at the proposition of putting her face in the water let alone diving in. She's gotten much more courageous these days, and I think it's great. I spent about ten minutes with Emelie, coaxing her to jump off the regular springboard. She was trying to convince me that she was ready to do it...I certainly wasn't forcing her. But there were a handful of anxieties that ultimately got the best of her, and she finally gave up. However, there were no public freakouts. The very fact that she got up on the board in front of everyone and didn't get bent out of shape when a line of waiting kids impatiently cajoled her to hurry up revealed to me just how more mature she's gotten. Not even a year ago, such a scenario would've ended with her in tears or in a rage sitting in the far corner of the patio. I was quite proud of her, too.

It takes a few solid days of solo time to see the nuances of how great my children are. It also reminds me just how little I really see them during the week. Helping Sydney with a school project tonight brought home all the quiet little things I miss. But just a few uninterrupted hours, aided by some of their impromptu "I love my Daddy" songs makes everything all right. That unconditional love is truly a blessing and I'm grateful for every dose I can get.

Tomorrow, I have to run the 'get ready for school' gauntlet. I'll then pick them up from school and run Emelie to Mathnasium again, attempting a little soccer mom/work from home dad hybrid afternoon.

Lori gets back on Tuesday morning and I'll go back to my normal work week, recalibrated to all that's important.

Focused energy

Just a blog to communicate that the few after-work hours I spend on the site have recently been focused on updating Home Base. If it isn't abundantly (and nauseatingly) clear, the house consumes just about every waking moment. My Web life is no different. I'm sure I'll blog about something ELSE at some point soon. (I'm sure you're tense with anticipation.) In the meantime, sit back and enjoy the construction.

A dusty shoe morning

Yesterday we got notice that, on Wednesday morning, we'll be doing our "dusty shoe" walkthrough of the new house. I knew it was supposed to happen some time in May, but it sprung on us unexpectedly like some sort of hunting cat...if that cat were really a construction supervisor named Hector, that is.

Tomorrow morning at 10am, we'll actually be inside our new house to inspect all the electrical wiring. This is the last opportunity for us to approve all the wiring (I'll probably be as effective at that as I am diagnosing car trouble by looking at the engine) before they move on to drywalling. We're allowed (and encouraged) to take pictures of outlets and things that will be inside the imminent walls, such as the ceiling speaker hookups.

It may be little else than a warm and fuzzy update opportunity for antsy homeowners like us. But I gotta tell you, I've got no problem with that. Particularly when the implication is that our approval of the dusty shoe walkthrough signifies the onset of drywalling and the most dramatic changes to the appearance of the house. Now the skeleton of our home will finally grow flesh and muscle.

Stay tuned for pictures.

A nip of Knight Train

I know this has received all kind of coverage, but it's just too friggin' funny not to document for all time. If you haven't seen the full six minutes or so, or just want to relive the magic over and over again, I encourage you to enjoy. I'm sure Wendy's is loving the product placement. My personal favorite moment is the quintessential drunk deep exhale right near the end. (You like that part as much as me, Derek?)



Go troll around YouTube for the burgeoning number of parodies. Good fun.