Thursday, March 20, 2008
A post to let you know I am posting
It's been a while since I have posted, and a video I had hoped to post is supposedly downloading right now, but giving me problems. So this post is to inform you that I am posting.
Monday, February 25, 2008
February 25
Has it really been 20 years? I read Aryn's post and could not believe it. For some reason I always think of my mom's passing in terms of my being 10, not how many years have passed since. I guess in a way it is just a point in time that has frozen for me. There are certain things that I see in my mind over and over from that day. I remember seeing the ambulance at our house while I was across the street at Keller. But that was not the first time it had happened, and Mom had been OK, and so it wasn't particularly alarming to a 10 year old me.
Then I recall the balloons that Mike Caughlin (Mr. Caughlin, at the time) had gotten for Dad's birthday. I always remember a melancholy about that day. It sits in my mind, and every memory I have of the day sort of glows in an almost halo-ish soft light in my mind. I remember us kids all gathered around to talk about what had happened and what it meant. How could any of us possibly have known what our Mother's passing would mean? I know I wouldn't fully understand it for years, and even to this date I don't have a complete comprehension, I just know I understand more and more what it meant for my life each day. And, like Aryn, I constantly wonder how things might be different if she were still alive.
I remember sitting at a table, just running a pen on a paper and crying. Someone was there comforting me. There were so many people there it seemed. The memory that stands out the most is the look I saw on my father's face as he came through our front door for the first time after losing Rae Lynn, knowing he would not come through those doors with her again. That look was all I ever needed to see. I knew right then what had happened before anything needed to be said.
I don't think I will ever understand what the past 20 years - and the two before that - have been like for Dad. So today he turns 60. He was 30 when I was born, and now I am 30. Amazing! Linda asked me to write my favorite memory of Dad for his birthday party, a party I regrettably could not attend. But I didn't write a memory either, and don't know if I ever will be able to. I have thought about his 60th birthday for months. What to do? What to say? I thought long and hard about a favorite memory. But thus far I haven't been able to put such a memory in words. Not because I have none. A boy's memory of his father cannot be fonder than mine. I simply can not find a way to express what my father has meant to me in words. He means far to much to sufficiently capture with my limited command of our language.
So if you're reading this blog, Dad, suffice it say I continue to grow aware of the profound sacrifices you have made and the love you have for me (and all of your kids), and it has meant everything to me for my life. As you yourself put it, I was born into most fortunate circumstances, and it is indeed a fact I do appreciate more deeply as I experience fatherhood.
So though I may try, I simply cannot at this point describe the feelings I have for my Dad. Just like I can't describe to Catherine why I still keep an old tattered and worn Navy T-shirt I've had for as long as I can remember. Perhaps only my siblings will get that.
And as I was typing this, I discovered that my own sons have raided our refrigerator and managed to spread chocolate syrup and salad dressing over half of the kitchen, living room, and Cal. Strangely, Bair kept it mainly on his hands and feet, while Cal ended up bathed from head to to toe...life continues to happen!
So with that, I will say happy 60th, Dad! I love you. And, uh, I am sorry for all the messes I made!
Then I recall the balloons that Mike Caughlin (Mr. Caughlin, at the time) had gotten for Dad's birthday. I always remember a melancholy about that day. It sits in my mind, and every memory I have of the day sort of glows in an almost halo-ish soft light in my mind. I remember us kids all gathered around to talk about what had happened and what it meant. How could any of us possibly have known what our Mother's passing would mean? I know I wouldn't fully understand it for years, and even to this date I don't have a complete comprehension, I just know I understand more and more what it meant for my life each day. And, like Aryn, I constantly wonder how things might be different if she were still alive.
I remember sitting at a table, just running a pen on a paper and crying. Someone was there comforting me. There were so many people there it seemed. The memory that stands out the most is the look I saw on my father's face as he came through our front door for the first time after losing Rae Lynn, knowing he would not come through those doors with her again. That look was all I ever needed to see. I knew right then what had happened before anything needed to be said.
I don't think I will ever understand what the past 20 years - and the two before that - have been like for Dad. So today he turns 60. He was 30 when I was born, and now I am 30. Amazing! Linda asked me to write my favorite memory of Dad for his birthday party, a party I regrettably could not attend. But I didn't write a memory either, and don't know if I ever will be able to. I have thought about his 60th birthday for months. What to do? What to say? I thought long and hard about a favorite memory. But thus far I haven't been able to put such a memory in words. Not because I have none. A boy's memory of his father cannot be fonder than mine. I simply can not find a way to express what my father has meant to me in words. He means far to much to sufficiently capture with my limited command of our language.
So if you're reading this blog, Dad, suffice it say I continue to grow aware of the profound sacrifices you have made and the love you have for me (and all of your kids), and it has meant everything to me for my life. As you yourself put it, I was born into most fortunate circumstances, and it is indeed a fact I do appreciate more deeply as I experience fatherhood.
So though I may try, I simply cannot at this point describe the feelings I have for my Dad. Just like I can't describe to Catherine why I still keep an old tattered and worn Navy T-shirt I've had for as long as I can remember. Perhaps only my siblings will get that.
And as I was typing this, I discovered that my own sons have raided our refrigerator and managed to spread chocolate syrup and salad dressing over half of the kitchen, living room, and Cal. Strangely, Bair kept it mainly on his hands and feet, while Cal ended up bathed from head to to toe...life continues to happen!
So with that, I will say happy 60th, Dad! I love you. And, uh, I am sorry for all the messes I made!
Happenings
We've been fairly busy lately, but having a lot of fun. Catherine has been a personal trainer at a local gym now for a few months and has picked up quite a few clients. She is also slated to begin teaching yoga, and is one of those fortunate few who have found their calling. She absolutely loves what she does. She and I both ran 6 miles over the weekend. That's right, 6 miles - Catherine by the lake and me on a treadmill this time. We are well into our training and feeling good. 6 miles, piece of cake; 20 more...??? Yes, I've decided it is nuts. But we are still far from our fundraising goals - so I would offer an additional plea to anyone reading this blog: click the links here on our blog and contribute!
We put in a new floor, and aside from a few edges and trim to put it all together, its done. Our carpet was horrible and we are loving the new floor, and proud that we did it ourselves. Catherine's father is quite handy and got us started with the tough stuff and planning it out, and I must say it has come out quite nicely. Bair helped mainly by running around and driving his trucks over pieces of wood we really didn't want him to touch and was responsible for more than one nick in the floor. His other contribution was to make funny faces, which are all we seem to be able to capture on camera anymore. He is genetically predispositioned to hamming it up due to his being 1/2 Catherine's.
Speaking of genetics, there's only one word to describe the combination of Catherine and me: Magnificence! (as you can see right here...) 
Catherine seems to have been tailor made to raise boys. Its easy to say now, not having any girls, but she just seems to have a way with these guys. Here they put on a carefully balanced dance routine to the Thomas the Tank Engine theme song, which for some reason plays approximately 98% of the time in our house when we are awake.
Cal. Cal Pal. Cal Cheese. The Big Cheese. The Little Cheese. CP. C3PO. Cal.
Another totally natural smile from Bair...Noodlebrain. I wonder how long it'll be before we capture a real one again...I also marvel at how big he has become. When did this happen? That is a pretty good size rocking chair - when we got it he couldn't even climb in without help, and now his feet nearly touch the floor. Scary. Slow down boys, slow down! What's the rush in getting big, anyway?
Still a favorite, the Big Brother book from Grandpa Fitz & Grandma Linda. Bair calls each character by name (Mommy, Daddy, Grandpa, Grandma, Bair and Cal are all featured in the book), and will sometime sit down and read it to Cal himself. It is eerie because he actually runs through the book almost word for word, and looks as if he is really reading it to Cal. But Bair actually tends to be very analytical and has simply memorized the words and their location on the page.
We finally had our first unplanned trip to the hospital this weekend, something I feared but knew was inevitable at least a few times over the course of the boys' childhood. Cal had the Croup - and woke up really struggling to breath. Not a pleasant thing to watch your one year old wheeze and struggle for air, but he's fine now. Although a little angry, as the remedy for Croup is steroids. I was tempted to take some of his prescription to try and get an edge in the kickball league I joined, but my gut tells me I'll be the next one randomly tested, and the though of going before congress makes me nervous, so thus far I've resisted.
We put in a new floor, and aside from a few edges and trim to put it all together, its done. Our carpet was horrible and we are loving the new floor, and proud that we did it ourselves. Catherine's father is quite handy and got us started with the tough stuff and planning it out, and I must say it has come out quite nicely. Bair helped mainly by running around and driving his trucks over pieces of wood we really didn't want him to touch and was responsible for more than one nick in the floor. His other contribution was to make funny faces, which are all we seem to be able to capture on camera anymore. He is genetically predispositioned to hamming it up due to his being 1/2 Catherine's.
Speaking of genetics, there's only one word to describe the combination of Catherine and me: Magnificence! (as you can see right here...) 
Catherine seems to have been tailor made to raise boys. Its easy to say now, not having any girls, but she just seems to have a way with these guys. Here they put on a carefully balanced dance routine to the Thomas the Tank Engine theme song, which for some reason plays approximately 98% of the time in our house when we are awake.
Cal. Cal Pal. Cal Cheese. The Big Cheese. The Little Cheese. CP. C3PO. Cal.
Another totally natural smile from Bair...Noodlebrain. I wonder how long it'll be before we capture a real one again...I also marvel at how big he has become. When did this happen? That is a pretty good size rocking chair - when we got it he couldn't even climb in without help, and now his feet nearly touch the floor. Scary. Slow down boys, slow down! What's the rush in getting big, anyway?
Still a favorite, the Big Brother book from Grandpa Fitz & Grandma Linda. Bair calls each character by name (Mommy, Daddy, Grandpa, Grandma, Bair and Cal are all featured in the book), and will sometime sit down and read it to Cal himself. It is eerie because he actually runs through the book almost word for word, and looks as if he is really reading it to Cal. But Bair actually tends to be very analytical and has simply memorized the words and their location on the page.
We finally had our first unplanned trip to the hospital this weekend, something I feared but knew was inevitable at least a few times over the course of the boys' childhood. Cal had the Croup - and woke up really struggling to breath. Not a pleasant thing to watch your one year old wheeze and struggle for air, but he's fine now. Although a little angry, as the remedy for Croup is steroids. I was tempted to take some of his prescription to try and get an edge in the kickball league I joined, but my gut tells me I'll be the next one randomly tested, and the though of going before congress makes me nervous, so thus far I've resisted.Tuesday, February 19, 2008
As some of you know by now, Catherine and I have joined with the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society (http://www.lls.org/) to raise funds for their mission. It is probably self-evident to you why we chose this particular program, but we both continue to be rather astounded by the blessings we have in our lives and felt it was time we did more to give back to a worthy cause. If you are not familiar with the program, we're participating in the Team in Training program (TNT). Basically, we each raise a certain amount, and all the while we train for an endurance event we will complete in honor and/or memory of those touched by blood cancers and to promote awareness.
You probably already know that neither Catherine and I are particularly suited for distance running. Are we nuts? Perhaps. We have goals of $4,000 each. That's right, $8,000, and not much time to raise it, so we're asking for any help you can give. Our participation in the Marathon is contingent upon reaching our goals, so whether you contribute out of kindness and care for the cause, or out of spite to force into running 26.2 miles, you really can't go wrong! Now, anticipating that this blog is read most likely by my four sisters regularly and perhaps Schuyler or Dad on rare occasion, I'm not really asking for donations here so much as I am circulation. The links to Catherine and my donation sites, respectively, are to the right, and at the end of this post. Anything you are comfortable giving would be greatly appreciated. And even more appreciated would be your help in circulating the links to our pages and directing anyone who you think might be interested in donating to the links.
We've just begun, but are optimistic we can reach our goals. Be sure and check our progress through these links regularly, and we'll even post about how are training progress is going. We each ran 5 solid miles this weekend, more than either of us has run in a long time. I did mine early Saturday in the rain while Catherine somehow kept going on a treadmill with her iPod pushing her along. 26.2 seems pretty darn near impossible, so kudos to you who have already done it. This week we will up the ante to 6 miles, probably me on the treadmill this time with Catherine pounding the pavement. It should be excrutiatingly fun.
Thank you in advance for helping get these links out, and on a serious note, thank you for being what you always have to me. I still often marvel at how charmed a life I feel like I've had despite losing my Mom at such a young age. There is no doubt that you (my family) and your support and fierce loyalty has made all the difference in the world. I miss Mom every day, but could not be more greatful for her having brought me into this world and laying the foundation for a family like ours. We know we won't be able to do this without you, so again, thank you!
Catherine's fundraising link:
http://www.active.com/donate/tntctx/tntctxCFitzwa
Brady's fundraising link:
http://www.active.com/donate/tntctx/tntctxBFitzwa
You probably already know that neither Catherine and I are particularly suited for distance running. Are we nuts? Perhaps. We have goals of $4,000 each. That's right, $8,000, and not much time to raise it, so we're asking for any help you can give. Our participation in the Marathon is contingent upon reaching our goals, so whether you contribute out of kindness and care for the cause, or out of spite to force into running 26.2 miles, you really can't go wrong! Now, anticipating that this blog is read most likely by my four sisters regularly and perhaps Schuyler or Dad on rare occasion, I'm not really asking for donations here so much as I am circulation. The links to Catherine and my donation sites, respectively, are to the right, and at the end of this post. Anything you are comfortable giving would be greatly appreciated. And even more appreciated would be your help in circulating the links to our pages and directing anyone who you think might be interested in donating to the links.
We've just begun, but are optimistic we can reach our goals. Be sure and check our progress through these links regularly, and we'll even post about how are training progress is going. We each ran 5 solid miles this weekend, more than either of us has run in a long time. I did mine early Saturday in the rain while Catherine somehow kept going on a treadmill with her iPod pushing her along. 26.2 seems pretty darn near impossible, so kudos to you who have already done it. This week we will up the ante to 6 miles, probably me on the treadmill this time with Catherine pounding the pavement. It should be excrutiatingly fun.
Thank you in advance for helping get these links out, and on a serious note, thank you for being what you always have to me. I still often marvel at how charmed a life I feel like I've had despite losing my Mom at such a young age. There is no doubt that you (my family) and your support and fierce loyalty has made all the difference in the world. I miss Mom every day, but could not be more greatful for her having brought me into this world and laying the foundation for a family like ours. We know we won't be able to do this without you, so again, thank you!
Catherine's fundraising link:
http://www.active.com/donate/tntctx/tntctxCFitzwa
Brady's fundraising link:
http://www.active.com/donate/tntctx/tntctxBFitzwa
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
McCall
Assuming most of you will check this blog at one point or another, and after much debate about circling the country and visiting everyone and going everywhere and doing everything, we remembered we have a 3 and a 1 year old, and every road trip since Bair's birth has included extensive vomiting from at least one member of the family.
So, our itinerary for family this summer is as follows:
Saturday July 19th:
We leave Austin with an ETA in Colorado Springs sometime late that night.
Sunday - Monday July 20-21:
We will be enjoying Colorado, old friends and any family who happens to be there. A friend of ours here desperately wants to hike Pikes Peak, and I myself have never come to grips with the fact that I spent my entire childhood there and never hiked it, so, Grothar permitting, we hike the peak Sunday July 20.
Tuesday July 22:
We depart for McCall via the most direct, lease vomited route we can manage. Hopefully it takes no longer than 2 days. ETA in McCall: July 23, Evening.
July 24 - August 1 or 2:
Ski, swim, float, tan, sleep, eat a slab of lettuce under a dollop of cottage cheese topped with a canned pineapple slice, swim, hike, play tennis, golf, swim, read, take on Dad's ill-conceived plans to build, demolish, move, haul, cut, or otherwise take on some project none of us are nearly capable of realistically completing without sustaining serious injury or bodily harm, scratch mosquito bites, eat ice cream, donuts, and drink lake-chilled root beer; among other things.
August 1/2: Depart for home. Cedar Park, TX
I know it is a ways out, but we hope to see you all along the way...
So, our itinerary for family this summer is as follows:
Saturday July 19th:
We leave Austin with an ETA in Colorado Springs sometime late that night.
Sunday - Monday July 20-21:
We will be enjoying Colorado, old friends and any family who happens to be there. A friend of ours here desperately wants to hike Pikes Peak, and I myself have never come to grips with the fact that I spent my entire childhood there and never hiked it, so, Grothar permitting, we hike the peak Sunday July 20.
Tuesday July 22:
We depart for McCall via the most direct, lease vomited route we can manage. Hopefully it takes no longer than 2 days. ETA in McCall: July 23, Evening.
July 24 - August 1 or 2:
Ski, swim, float, tan, sleep, eat a slab of lettuce under a dollop of cottage cheese topped with a canned pineapple slice, swim, hike, play tennis, golf, swim, read, take on Dad's ill-conceived plans to build, demolish, move, haul, cut, or otherwise take on some project none of us are nearly capable of realistically completing without sustaining serious injury or bodily harm, scratch mosquito bites, eat ice cream, donuts, and drink lake-chilled root beer; among other things.
August 1/2: Depart for home. Cedar Park, TX
I know it is a ways out, but we hope to see you all along the way...
Saturday, December 29, 2007
So this is Christmas...
2007 was one of the tougher ones I’ve had in my life, yet I find myself looking very optimistically towards 2008. This was the first year we spent Christmas day alone. And when I say alone, I mean as just our immediate family: Catherine, myself, and the boys. Although I guess technically we actually did have an honorary guest: Jackson, a beautiful and big mutt who we looked after for James (the gym Manager where Catherine trains). We figured short of actually owning a dog, we could enjoy some of the benefits without all the hassle by just having them for a little while every now an then. So when James asked us if we could watch Jackson for a few days while he traveled for Christmas, it was a no-brainer. The boys are obsessed with Man’s four legged best friend, and Jackson is a strapping mix with a monstrous noggin’ and as sweet as they come. Just picture me sounding astonishingly similar to Dad saying “Bless your little heart” over and over to the pup throughout Jackson’s stay with us. We reminded Bair repeatedly that he has a cousin named Jackson to avoid any confusion later on.
J-Dawg and Catherine hit it off immediately. Catherine has a way of making any creature quite comfortable in her presence and they spent a good deal of time cuddling.
We hit the Trail of Lights this year again, which has become a good tradition. It’s basically just a mile long trail through a big park lined with light display after light display and various Christmas figurines and music. It’s free and as you can see from the electrified looks of excitement here, the boys love it, and thus: so do we.
Christmas Eve and Christmas itself were both sunny and bright, so Cal did his best Bret Favre impersonations while Bair worked on his canine training skills much of the time.
“Blue! Forty-Two! Hut…Hut…Hike!”
Christmas morning stockings and presents were subdued but, incredibly, stickers, a weird talking-learning-caterpillar thingy, and Thomas the Train was all it took to make the boys realize it was a day unlike any other.
But the real prize went to Catherine; as you can see right here. (Thanks Kevinda!)
A walk along the lake with Jackson, Auntie Jen, and a near perfect day warm and breezy capped off a great holiday and a much needed break for all of us to just hang out and look forward to another year.
Without Catherine-who does more than she could possibly know to keep me sane when I would otherwise have gone off the deep end long ago-and coming home to Bair and Cal every day, 2007 might not have been such a pleasant memory, and 2008 might look that much more daunting. But 2007 seemed good to me and 2008 does not seem so scary anymore these days. As the wise Cederic said awaiting his fate as a top 10 finalist on “So You Think You Can Dance” (where so much of my inspiration comes from): "I’m at peace."
Happy Holidays!
J-Dawg and Catherine hit it off immediately. Catherine has a way of making any creature quite comfortable in her presence and they spent a good deal of time cuddling.
You knew I was gonna get mine too. It is true what they say about how far a good pup will go towards relieving stress. Jackson was a welcome and extremely pleasant guest and we’d have him back any time.
We hit the Trail of Lights this year again, which has become a good tradition. It’s basically just a mile long trail through a big park lined with light display after light display and various Christmas figurines and music. It’s free and as you can see from the electrified looks of excitement here, the boys love it, and thus: so do we.
Christmas Eve and Christmas itself were both sunny and bright, so Cal did his best Bret Favre impersonations while Bair worked on his canine training skills much of the time.“Blue! Forty-Two! Hut…Hut…Hike!”
“SIT!!! Jackson…SIT!” And occasionally: “SIT! Benny…SIT! Good dog.”
Auntie Jen was out-and bravely at that-again just shortly after her emergency appendectomy and took a break from studying for the Boards. Despite the frigid sub 50 degree temperatures, Bair insisted he show her his biking prowess. So wearing a wonderfully coordinated outfit he did an impromptu show at night and wowed the cul-de-sac with his rapid pedaling and suave smirks that can only be interpreted to say “Ciao!”
Christmas morning stockings and presents were subdued but, incredibly, stickers, a weird talking-learning-caterpillar thingy, and Thomas the Train was all it took to make the boys realize it was a day unlike any other.
But the real prize went to Catherine; as you can see right here. (Thanks Kevinda!)
A walk along the lake with Jackson, Auntie Jen, and a near perfect day warm and breezy capped off a great holiday and a much needed break for all of us to just hang out and look forward to another year.
Without Catherine-who does more than she could possibly know to keep me sane when I would otherwise have gone off the deep end long ago-and coming home to Bair and Cal every day, 2007 might not have been such a pleasant memory, and 2008 might look that much more daunting. But 2007 seemed good to me and 2008 does not seem so scary anymore these days. As the wise Cederic said awaiting his fate as a top 10 finalist on “So You Think You Can Dance” (where so much of my inspiration comes from): "I’m at peace."Happy Holidays!
Friday, December 7, 2007
Nostalgic November
My posts are certainly not as fluid as others tend to be, but I just like certain pictures. And really, let's face it: you do too, as evidenced by you viewing this blog now. Something about this one of Catherine I just liked. She's clearly giving me grief about photographing her, probably mad because she was unable to primp and prep and ham it up. But she doesn't need to. That day was a crisp, clear Novemember day and we had gone to a favorite cafe on Lake Austin, and she just seemed to glow. Such a pretty gal and such a pretty day! There's juts something nostalgic for me about November.
Cal is a thumb sucker, and loves dogs - none more than his dog blanket he's holding here.
We spent Thankgiving in Albuquerque with Jen & Co - Lexie, Ellie and Trixie. Which was perfect because the boys LOVE dogs. L-O-V-E. Obsessively...Bair and Lexie are two peas in a pod and spent a good deal of time harrassing each other or staring out the window at the snow (something Bair has not seen much of between San Diego and Austin).He also discovered doggy doors, and has a particular affinity for them as well. Go figure...
Cal is a thumb sucker, and loves dogs - none more than his dog blanket he's holding here.
Thursday, December 6, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
I accidentally hit a cone...
SCENE: Driving along a Utah Interstate en route to McCall in the '84 Chevy van which, from an aesthetic view point, I am incapable of easily categorizing. Still, I'll try: It was a big beast of a thing; maroon with a horizontal white stripe a couple feet thick running its length. I once got out of parking ticket at Doherty by questioning the professionalism of the attendant. In the field on the ticket for vehicle description he had simply written "ugly" (true story). Had they actually checked, I would have lost my case because that van was indeed ugly. You get the idea.
A teen aged Aryn is driving the beast at highway speeds through a stretch of road under construction, I'm riding shotgun, the rest of the gang in various states of bored consciousness in the back seats. Dad was asleep in the very back. Aryn and I (not sure which one) decided to break up the monotony a bit by seeing how close she could get to those traffic cones lining the right lane which, of course, cars normally try to avoid. As a teenager, it always sounds like a good idea.
Aryn inches over in her lane.
Aryn: "Did I get it?"
Me: "No"
She straightens the van again, and begins to inch back over as we approach the next cone.
Aryn: "I get that one?"
Me: "No, another few feet over."
Again, she inches over.
"Did I get it?"
"No. A little more."
And on it went for several cones. Each time we were a good few feet away, and I was getting frustrated at the lack of effort. Aryn would veer over only slightly, never really giving us a fair shot at hitting a cone.
Me: "You're not even close. A few more feet over - you're only going a few inches."
And then all of a sudden, with a resolute and textbook Fitzwater grimace of determination she veered in a major way to the right.
SHWUUUMP! BGUUUMP! BUMP! SCRATCH! BUUUMP! The beast plowed over that poor cone which was a thick plastic and a good 2-3 feet tall making all kinds of thuds and bumping noises as it bounced and smashed its way straight down the middle of the van's undercarriage.
Silence from Aryn and I as we looked at each other for a moment and at the mangled cone bouncing out on the highway behind us...then came the inevitable.
Dad (rustling up from his slumber in the back and peering forward with hair looking like it'd just been flow-bee'd and the textbook Dad grimace on his face): "WHAT WAS THAT!?"
Aryn (after a long pause): "I...uh...accidentally hit a cone."
Thanks for the memory (and sorry to tarnish your previously unblemished record)! It was great to have you visit - you are ALWAYS fun to be around, and we miss you. Happy Birthday, Sister!
A teen aged Aryn is driving the beast at highway speeds through a stretch of road under construction, I'm riding shotgun, the rest of the gang in various states of bored consciousness in the back seats. Dad was asleep in the very back. Aryn and I (not sure which one) decided to break up the monotony a bit by seeing how close she could get to those traffic cones lining the right lane which, of course, cars normally try to avoid. As a teenager, it always sounds like a good idea.
Aryn inches over in her lane.
Aryn: "Did I get it?"
Me: "No"
She straightens the van again, and begins to inch back over as we approach the next cone.
Aryn: "I get that one?"
Me: "No, another few feet over."
Again, she inches over.
"Did I get it?"
"No. A little more."
And on it went for several cones. Each time we were a good few feet away, and I was getting frustrated at the lack of effort. Aryn would veer over only slightly, never really giving us a fair shot at hitting a cone.
Me: "You're not even close. A few more feet over - you're only going a few inches."
And then all of a sudden, with a resolute and textbook Fitzwater grimace of determination she veered in a major way to the right.
SHWUUUMP! BGUUUMP! BUMP! SCRATCH! BUUUMP! The beast plowed over that poor cone which was a thick plastic and a good 2-3 feet tall making all kinds of thuds and bumping noises as it bounced and smashed its way straight down the middle of the van's undercarriage.
Silence from Aryn and I as we looked at each other for a moment and at the mangled cone bouncing out on the highway behind us...then came the inevitable.
Dad (rustling up from his slumber in the back and peering forward with hair looking like it'd just been flow-bee'd and the textbook Dad grimace on his face): "WHAT WAS THAT!?"
Aryn (after a long pause): "I...uh...accidentally hit a cone."
Thanks for the memory (and sorry to tarnish your previously unblemished record)! It was great to have you visit - you are ALWAYS fun to be around, and we miss you. Happy Birthday, Sister!
Friday, November 9, 2007
Bubbles
Thank you to my siblings who have sent a wide array of toys, clothing, candy, etc. to Bair & Cal. After some extensive trial and error, we have determined that the favorite item is bubbles. And why wouldn't they be? I think I might love them more today than when I was a kid myself. Bair was absolutely horrified the first time he encountered bubbles. He would get that look of sheer terror that only a child can seem to pull off every time I pulled out a bottle of bubbles. Then one time I surprised Bair with a slew of bubbles before he knew what hit him, and he soon began to grasp the concept. They are light, fluffy, floaty, soft, almost invisible, and certainly seem to do you no harm when they pop on you. Now he love bubbles, and insists we blow some on a fairly regular basis. Bair catches them, blows them back into the air, tries to bite them, and sometimes just does a funky spin-jump-dance thingy while the bubbles swirl around him. He does not have the vocabulary yet to intelligibly explain what the purpose of this motion is, but it seems to bring him a great deal of satisfaction. Cal was never afraid of bubbles, and pretty much just stands there wide-eyed and says "OH!" which is 1/4 of his collective vocabulary (he also says "dg" for dog, and of course, the babbling "mamamamamama..." and "dadadadadadada..." The "OH!" - as far as we can tell - is for awe and excitement, and it sounds kinda like the surprised grunt an adult might make who has just been tagged in the groin by a soft football unexpectedly. Not totally in pain, but a bit surprised and mildly anxious at the same time. He smiles after each "OH!"
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