Middle of the night

It's been about 54 weeks since the longest night of my life.
Some things are easier. The days are busy and the evenings are busier.
The kids are growing so fast and expanding their worlds as much as they can.
Life is certainly an adventure and every day has experiences that both make me smile as well as roll my eyes.


Home from work late last night, Boy came out to say goodnight and give me a hug.
He crawled up on my lap and buried his face in the hollow of my neck.
"Give me a big hug", I said and he wrapped his arms around me and squeezed.
I squeezed him back only to hear, "buuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrp" beneath my ear.
He pulled his head back with a huge grin, looking into my eyes.


Life is so precious.


Then it is 3am again.
I wake up to a dream. Again.
"CALL 911! SOMEONE CALL 911! MY BOY FELL IN THE POND AND ISN'T BREATHING!"
I see myself continuing chest compressions as I yell.
I see the biggest blue eyes I have ever seen; a blank stare not seeing me.
I wake up. My mind a destructive tornado of thoughts that swirl around.
Vignettes of that afternoon. Songs from the radio. Projects at work.
Happy tears that what woke me up was a dream, only a dream that has the happiest of endings.
In spite of knowing the ending that is all good, I still see moments from that day - they flash before me.
Calming my mind to fall back asleep is beyond the discipline of my mind.
Still.

Sunday Snippits

Five or six years ago, I found that having a beer on a warm afternoon after working hard around the house and then immediately getting on a riding mower to spend the next two hours going in circles on a vibrating machine is not a good idea. Unless you like a very bloated gassy stomach sort of feeling.
Unfortunately, over the last few years my life has changed ALOT! So I forget little details like that one.
So yesterday, about 15 minutes into mowing the back yard (see turkey picture, that is a LITTLE bit of my back yard) I remembered how the drinking a beer then mowing is a not so good of an idea.
(burp!)
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Yesterday I decided to change the oil in my truck. So while running around in town, I bought filters, oil (four gallons for that oil hog) and then after supper, I drove the truck to town and back to heat the oil and prepared to drain the oil.
Just then, the garage door opened.
"Your daughter would like you to SAVE her."
From who? From Mommy, it seemed.
Excuse me? It seems that to delay bedtime, she told Wife she was hungry. No surprise, since she ate two spoonfuls of applesauce and a cracker, ignoring her tater tot casserole that Wife experimented with for our supper.
Just then Kat, wearing nothing but a pull up, came running into the garage. Arms raised she scurried over to me. I picked her up in a hug. I asked if she was hungry. "yessss" she replied. "Lets get you some GOOD supper!"
So I took her inside and we sat down next to her chair. I put a slice of cheese over her tater tot casserole and tried to trick her into eating it. Once she saw what I was doing, she wanted off my lap in the worst way. She didn't eat much, just what little amount I could slather with cheese.
After changing the oil, I thanked Jill for the much needed chuckle. "Your daughter would like you to SAVE her" then the little sprite running towards me for protection from a funny looking supper.
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Last weekend we packed up the kids and went to my MIL for Easter dinner. I knew, heading down there that she had some chores for me to do. Namely, cut up some trees that had come down. They were in part of the pasture that will be THICK in wild rose and if we don't get the trees out now, we won't get them until December.
So I put the saws, oil, and gas in the loader tractor and followed her instructions. "Three trees are down where the two electric fences meet at the top of that hill."
I went up and found two hickory trees and an oak. The oak had to have come down 10 years ago, but had landed on another log so I just dried hard, it didn't rot.
I spent the next two hours cutting logs up and stacking wood. Then I walked back to the house for dinner, having worked up an appetite. After dinner, I knew if I didn't head right back up, I would fall asleep. So out and back up I went. I had saved the biggest log for last. 40+ feet of hickory. I started small and worked my way back to the trunk. After about 15 feet the log pinched my chainsaw so I got to walk back to the house for another saw. I hate it when that happens.
Walked back, carrying the medium chainsaw and got back to work.
The trunk was probably 20" across and in really good shape. This tree had probably come down in the last 2-3 years and had at least a truckload of good wood.
I then had the joy of stacking all of the wood so that it would not be lost in the wild rose, rag weed and nettles. Then I loaded the loader bucket with the trunk and oak logs to take back to the house and chained the two saws, gas and oil to the bucket and went to leave.
Problem.
It seems that I had enought weight on the front of the tractor that I had no traction on the back of the tractor to back up the hill. I dug two ruts as wide as a tractor tire and about three feet long.
So I walked back to the house and asked MIL to get the cab tractor and come get me out... I would walk back up and unload the bucket of the hickory trunk and the oak, then we could chain the two together and she could pull me out.
By the time she got up there, I was ready for her. She hopped out of the cab of her tractor and looked around. "What are you doing over here?" Well she could plainly see that I had been cutting up trees, so I told her that I had been getting the tractor stuck. "Yes, but why here?"
This wasn't really funny and I was pretty tired. Didn't she want me to cut up three trees where the electric fences met in the upper pasture? Isn't that where we are right now with a stuck tractor? What is her point she is trying to make?
"Oh," She said, "I meant where this electric fence meets the other electric fence. Over there about 100 yards. You cut up the wrong trees in the wrong place. I did not even know these trees were back here."
"You will need to come back next week end and get those trees over there."

So it seems I had a very nice, tiring, afternoon in the woods, communing with nature, cutting up the wrong trees.
I am going back up this morning to do the job over. Hopefully, without getting the tractor stuck.
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The BOY is a dancer. He loves the rhythm and beat of the music from the 80s and will stand up and dance. He likes Paula Abdul, Ace of Bass, Robert Palmer, (loves) Weird Al, Michael Jackson, RHCP, B52s, Devo, and John Denver.
(Disclaimer, this is Wife's Play list from her iPod, don't look funny at me.)
I have noticed tho, he has the same dance no matter the beat or the song.
The Boy is also an aspiring musician. We have a toy electric keyboard that is his FAVORITE toy. He plays on that thing every single evening and all weekend long. It is a hand me down, but Kat is not getting it back.
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On that note. (get it? early Sunday humor) Wife intends to enroll the kids in Musical appreciation this summer. 45 minutes each Saturday for an hour the two will go and be exposed to different instruments, dance, and in general learn to appreciate music. Kat will be 3 years old and Kyle will be 18mos.
I am looking for feedback from you, my half dozen readers. Is this a little young to be enrolling them in music class? We expect Kat to get the most from it, but they have a half off sibling offer, so they will both be there.
Let me know what you think. Would I be better off just letting them listen to their mother's iPod? Or better yet, taking them to Loren's for piano lessons?

slow motion

What do you think of when everything around you suddenly slows down? When you are acutely aware of every tenth of a second as it passes?

I woke up Saturday morning to Kat's music in her room. When I looked in on her, she was dancing. Spinning in circles with her arms and hands outstretched, a huge smile on her face with her hair thrown around. "UP, Daddy! UP!" So I picked her up and danced to Itsy bitsy spider. Her face in mine, watching her smile and hearing her giggle. We spun around together like grinning fools, enjoying the moment. Nothing else really mattered.

AS the truck tire fell off the pavement, the DOT hadn't plowed and the front end swung around, I wasn't driving fast. Maybe 55 MPH. The roads were a mess, snow covered and no way to tell where the shoulder hid, waiting to pull you down to a catastrophe.

The boy has been sick. He had my cold and now has my cough. He has a rash and other problems that make him miserable. Last night Jill and I held him and tried to comfort him. He would have none of it. He stood and screamed at the injustice of it all; why did HE have to hurt? Did he really want these teeth? We held him and tried to comfort him and share his frustration.

The truck is sliding sideways, free of friction from the road and the tires held to nothing, just sliding over snow and ice. The headlights pointed into the median and the road starting to curve into my travel. Counter steer, just like I was taught in drivers ed, over 25 years ago. Pray, just like I was taught at home nearly 40 years ago.

Kat, wound up and cranky. Cabin fever making her temper boil. I found her at the door, in her jacket, hat and mittens. Crying to DO SOMETHING. Outside? Sled, she tells me. So I dressed quickly, put on her boots and carried her out and got the sled. I tell her to hold on and enjoy! She is going down the hill, faster and farther. Looking back for the security of daddy watching over her. Laughter and dancing, jumping up and down. Again! Again. Four trips in all, up the hill, position in the sled and point down the hill. GO! down the hill, faster than before, I hear her calling, Daddy!

There is a van stuck in the median. The truck has swung nearly 180* and I see the van coming up on my left. Or is it? The van is still, I am shooting towards it when the back of the truck hits the thick, wet, sticky snow of the median and the front end snaps around like a whip. The van seems to pass me by, when I should know I am the passer by. Nose into the deeper snow, slowing down as though I just drove into a lake. Snow splashing up all around, I see the snow pass over the hood and past my windows. How deep will I go?

Sunday morning, Jill took Kyle to the dr, leaving Kat home with me. Kat is mommy's little girl and spends a half hour crying for MOMMY! and looking all over the house trying to find her mommy. I distract her finally with the music from the day before and once again we are dancing, cheek to cheek. In a rare moment of perspective, I marvel and appreciate the moment. She doesn't want me to hold her often and we don't dance together. "This is precious and I don't want it to stop." I am in the moment and I know what priceless really means.

The truck is nearly in the other lane. Headlights flash in front of me, staring into my eyes. This makes it hard to see and I have my eyes open to meet my fate. What will happen when I finally come to rest? I am now heading back towards the middle of the median, snow showering all around me. Will my planner hit me in the head? Will my flashlight shake free and fracture my teeth? Will I be a burden to my family, paralyzed or blind? Is this all karma; am I wearing clean underwear?

A rough night last night. Wife and I got back to sleep around 530. We snuggled up close and dozed off. We had each gone to the children to help them get through the night and back to sleep. One woke the other and they both resented the interruption of sleep. We all did. Jill and I hit snooze and we wound ourselves closer to one another. I murmured in her ear; we used to do this every morning, BK. We cuddled and snuggled and stored up love and affection like squirrels storing nuts, corporate life is like a stark freezing Iowa winter. Store up your love and affection because outside of this house you don't have many friends or allies to help nourish your spirit. Some days that nourishment of your spirit runs out before you get to the safe haven of home.

I realize the truck has some response in the wheel. Maybe I can, I think. I am at the bottom of the hill, I have been plowing snow for a quarter mile. Give it some gas and steer. The worst that can happen is unthinkable; the best that can happen is still possible. The truck responds to the foot feed and slogs its way in the deep snow. Thirty more yards, twenty then five and OUT! We are on the road! Careful, don't go to the other ditch and look for cars coming down that hill! Keep driving a little faster, up to 45 and pointed in the right direction. Lets get home carefully, safely; ten miles to go and the road isn't any cleaner.

I park the truck at home and feel kind of weak. shut the garage door and go inside. It is too much to hope the kids are up; it is 8:15. DADDY'S HOME. A bundle of long brown curly hair runs out of her bedroom and throws herself around my knees. UP, UP, UP she commands. I pick up my daughter and a tear slides down my cheek. Jill comes into the kitchen carrying Kyle and we have a group hug. A hug has never been more precious or needed than right at that moment. I would freeze that moment in time if I could and never regret it.

I feel like it took thirty minutes to drive through that median and another hour to get home but that hug lasted for barely an instant.

Great weekend (1:1 TIME W/ WIFE)

What an incredible weekend. My wonderful mother volunteered to spend time with the kids and I made plans to drop them off at Mom’s then go to the farm and sight in my muzzle loader and six shooter for the upcoming deer season. As an extra treat, I took one of my rifles along to play with.
Jill elected to stay home and rest as BF had been pretty tiring for her. She planned on doing some cleaning, organizing and take a nap in the morning. She also planned to take another in the afternoon and just have some personal alone time. Can you imagine? She might even get to shower without anyone crying “mommy” or maybe even go to the bathroom in peace.
So I rounded up the kids and their suitcases (for an overnight stay, suitcases?) and all my supplies in the car and went about my day.
In between IaCity and the MIL, I stopped by Dietrich509 and visited with his family to see how the holidays had treated them. As usual, I enjoyed my time with them as I hadn’t seen them in months.
At the farm shooting went well. I could go on and on about that, but most people would be quickly bored.
The ONLY part of the day that could be taken as a downer was working on the water heater for MIL. She doesn’t have a softener or in-line filter and so her water heater tends to build up lime. A LOT of lime. She asked if I could replace the heating element and I said I would. I even went on YouToob and watched a plumber demonstrate how easy it was. You know, I would like to find that plumber and drop a water heater on his toe. In his video the element comes out so easy you would think that there is nothing to it. Well in his heater there was nothing to it because it was a new unit. MIL heater was installed 10 years ago and the heating element had corroded into a solid weld. It finally yielded to a two foot cheater bar and MIL holding the heater so it wouldn’t tip over. Between the two of us, we got the element out. That was when I discovered that her water supply comes from an alternate universe. You see, I had drained the heater while I was shooting. So for two hours that heater drained. And all the while, I had shut off the water at the well, so there was no water coming into the house. By the time we got the element out the hose had stopped draining about an hour previously. Mysteriously, when we took out the element we had very cold, fifty degree (F) water running all over the floor. The water ran out for nearly a half hour before I screwed the old element back into the heater (since I couldn’t even get it out) and said screw it, I had had enough. Quite a bit of lime came out so hopefully the heater will work better for a while. We never did figure out the source of the water.
Sunday morning Jill and I woke to the sunshine, not children crying. We had a quiet breakfast of homemade apple pie (courtesy of the Dietrich’s) and visited. Just talked. The two of us talked to each other. No screaming. No crying. No pressure. We connected and shared ideas and did some planning.
IT. WAS. AWESOME. And SO NEEDED!
Then we got out of bed and wrapped Xmas presents for nearly two hours then went and picked up our darling kids whom we had missed SO MUCH. BTW, there is NOTHING that can replace watching your child’s face light up when they see you at the door and scream “MOMMY, DADDY, MOMMY, DADDY, MOMMY, DADDY” until you catch them and gather them into a hug. Priceless.
Later, I will be posting the Christmas itinerary that Jill has planned for our family. All I can say is I will need a PDA to coordinate EVERYTHING that has to happen for our new family tradition. Burrier and Ives won’t have nothing on US! (if it works according to plan)

A rare reflective moment...

For me the saying "you don't have to believe in GOD, he believes in YOU" sums it up for me.
I work very hard to live a life by the golden rule... I often give to causes because "there but for the grace of GOD, go I"
While I haven't gone to an organized church in many years, I will go out in the woods or on my porch and watch the sun come up or the morning mist melt away and just KNOW that there is a higher power that loves us all, unconditionally.

HOPE

I have been pretty frustrated in the past few months. As I have tried to work the issues and come up with solutions (lets face it, I like solving problems) I haven't had much luck.
As I had a 2 hour drive this afternoon, thinking about what frustrates me and why and what to do about it I began to wonder if these issues were hopeless.
Then, because I cannot focus for five minutes, I thought to myself.
If something is truly hopeless and there really is no overt action that you can take to change the situation, then the solution is Prayer.
If I cannot solve it or resolve it, then it is time to turn it over to the master.
God, I need help.
There, now someone smarter than me, who knows all the details and people involved, is working the situation.

Business Advice

A number of years ago, I took a motorcycle trip to Ouray, Colorado. It was a fantastic vacation of camping and sightseeing, back and forth across the Rockies.
One of the people on the trip was a business process consultant from the KC area.
One night around the campfire, he was talking about work and how after he had left a contract, the company ignored his advice and continued to struggle.
I asked him if that bothered him; how did he deal with that type of situation.
He told me that “you just have to not care”. Essentially, he did his job to the best of his abilities. He then moves on. What they do is their business.
Today, I heard some news about a project that I stopped working on over a year ago. I worked on it for over a year, but as business works, I was re-assigned to other projects.
Anyway, it seems as though some of my ‘solutions’ are coming unraveled.
I got REALLY worked up about it, calling friends who know how close I was to this project and venting about it. I don’t know what they think of me, other than I must be a lunatic.
Tonight, as I drink a beer and tend my children, feeding Kat all kinds of cheese and chicken, I remembered my conversation with Dick. He really hit it on the head. Unknowingly, he gave me great advice that would serve me years later in my career.