The zoo was a zoo

Lions and tigers and bears, oh my...but no giraffe. Yesterday was about as perfect a day as we get in these parts of central Ohio with a well balanced mix of warm sun and a cool breeze. Especially considering the next 7 days will be rainy, it was quite a pleasant coincidence that it happened to fall on the same day as Elijah's school field trip. Your humble narrator, his wife, and two babies met up with Elijah's class to chaperon their zoo outing with hopes that we would return with the exact same number of children we set out with. It is my pleasure to announce that we succeeded in that mission despite our being there on the same day as every other kindergarten class in the entire state. Aside from a couple of heart attacks brought on by Elijah's classmate wandering off to explore other exhibits unannounced and there being no giraffes for him to look at, we all still had a fantastic time.
Zachary seemed especially fond of the Asian water monitor whose tail swished through the water like a giant eel. His eyes were completely transfixed on every movement of the large black lizard the entire time we stood there. Whenever the tail came sweeping toward him, Zach's legs would kick in his usual excited fashion as he squealed with delight. I think we have figured what Zach wants his first pet to be...now, if he can just get around mom's power of veto.
The tigers were Amelia's favorite especially since one of them was actively pacing around it's pen waiting for lunch. The tiger would walk directly toward the glass where she was standing giving the impression that it was coming straight for her and then turn away at the last second. I was a little intimidated by this ferocious feline but not Amelia. As the tiger s over to the other side of the cage Amelia held up her fingers and started making clicking noises which is the same method she employs to attract our cat, equally ineffectual.

I've been trying to upload some videos for the last two hours to no avail. Either Google Blogger is hosed or the files are to big and making my computer's brain a little owey. Either way, no videos today. Sorry. Here are your consolation pictures.

Go Swarm. Our last soccer game was this past Saturday. They did great!!



Mother's day at the conservatory.

Short nap day- Freestyle Friday

It is no secret that the purchase of thoroughbred horses is a luxury afforded only to those in positions of extraordinary power or influence; that ordinary folks from ordinary lives in ordinary towns shouldn't curse themselves with dreams of sitting in the arena with champions, but should just willingly accept that the hues painting their lives will lack the fluorescence of those giant few who transcend what is merely good enough for the rest. Our determined dropout was convinced he could scale the barriers drawn between his world and theirs. Years of intense focus and a single goal mindset would blast like the horns of Jericho against the walls which keep the common from the country club. He would be triumphant in the only way which mattered.

When he arrived in Iffezheim he felt as though the entire town and moment were created for him. The roads had become the foundation of a city composed almost entirely of herculean horse trailers. His forehead suddenly felt chilly and his ears tingled with blue electricity as it dawned on him that he may not have been breathing for the last few minutes. The feet underneath him seemed as if they moved of their own accord whisking him into the deepest recesses of this equine utopia. 'There are no horses on earth more perfect than these here today', he thought to himself frantically scanning what little he could see of permanent construction for any trace of the racer's stables.

Oh, say, can you see?

Zach's fine motor skills have kicked into high gear over the last few weeks in concert with his perfection of the crawling arts. The ramifications of this development are two-fold; the first of such meaning more frequent Cheerio patrols and vacuumings for me to thwart unauthorized snacking. Secondly, there lie await some serious hair pullings for Amelia. What? What's that you say? I'm sorry, I can't seem to hear you because of this profound hearing loss I sustained from the last time it happened. Amelia has a voice like no other one-year old, screaming from her diaphragm in pitches that would cause Mariah Carey to go green with envy while simultaneously making her wince in pain. The experience had made me realize that although I'm certain Zach loves Amelia very much, his hugs are not always of benevolent intent and he should be closely watched for malfeasance. Amelia used to do the same thing when I would take her to baby lap time so many months ago. She would ignore all the toys and books and crawl right up to the first baby she could reach and take a mad tug at their locks just to see what would happen. The results, of course, were universal.

Thanks to Ryan and Jen, who are letting me borrow their camera while ours is on the fritz, I can continue to post pictures instead of relying on crude punctuation based representations for graphic support. I was starting to worry 'what if Zach suddenly starts singing the Star Spangled Banner or something and I have no way to document it?' No worries now. Sing away, young man.

Shutter Bugger

I was going to post a really cute picture of Zach pushing Amelia on her little yellow motorcycle but when I went to grab my camera, I found that the shutter button had mysteriously popped off of my Sony DSC-H2 CyberShot camera and disappeared. Upon further investigation into this matter, I've found that the majority of reviews pertaining to this specific camera mention the jack-in-the-shutter button feature which renders the camera useless once it is gone. In the meantime, you guys will have to squint and use your imagination as I portray Zach and Amelia with emotocons to the best of my ability.

Here's a picture of Zach sitting up by his own accord which he does quite frequently these days :*: From the sitting position, he then pulls himself forward into a full split _*_ When he is stretched to his limit he folds over to one side and tucks his left leg under his body into what I call the sprinters starting block, shown here /;*

This one is of Amelia giving her daddy a kiss >< ...and no blog entry would be complete without a darling photo of her toothy smile ü

These pictures are making my brain hurt a little so I'm going to end this in hopes I can find a replacement part. Wish me lück.

"The TV baby shot me"- Drugstore Cowboy (1989)

I know the current paradigmatic school of thought will tell you that TV is what is robbing our children of their fragile little attention spans and creating little hyperactive monsters without conscience; however, it is my opinion that the studies may be lacking in their overall scope, hence in dire need of clarification.
To begin my dissertation, let me state my scientific observations on this matter. First and foremost is the concept of children friendly programming which makes a huge difference in how they react to it and continue to act once they stop watching. A child who has just watched a half an hour of Franklin the turtle will behave far differently than one who has just finished an episode of Power Rangers. It would be foolish of me to say that every child who watches the Power Rangers is going to karate chop their little sister or brother, so I must state this is merely for the purpose of demonstrating a higher hyperactivity level based on the specific programing seen by the child. There was a program Elijah watched as a younger boy called the Upsidedown Show. It's premise consisted of two Australian brothers (?) who act and speak as though they've been awake for the last three days and can't stop bouncing off the walls for the full half hour as a result. It came as no surprise when Elijah would finish the show that he would start attempting back flips off the couch and other crazed behavior. Case one.
Case two and most importantly, is not just the tube watching but the lack face to face human interaction with their family and peers that inevitably follows. Even though most will say that TV is passive listening with little to no brain activity, it actually consists of a series of subtle interactions the children have within themselves when the TV is on. They pick up on the way the characters interact with one another and will formulate scenarios within their head of situations they have or will someday encounter. This interaction the child has experienced, will be carried away in their mind to be experimented with in the non-TV world. It is up to the child's family to make sure that any bad behaviors are ruled out by means of example and rationale. I would venture to say that not all children in the world get that type of necessary interaction to offset to sometimes detrimental behavior the television can spur, which inevitably leads most to falsely conclude that it is the TV alone causing the transgressions.

I will leave you with this advice; limit programs to a half and hour, monitor what they watch and their reaction to it, and make sure they are getting plenty of quality time with the family.


Now that I got that off my chest, here's a video showing my children watching TV :)



P.S. Amelia normally doesn't watch schoolhouse rock, or any other TV, for that matter. It just happened that she and Zach woke up right after Elijah started his video. Please don't shun me, paradigmatic school.

Slow Sappy Song

I can be a sappy guy at times. I wasn't always like this though. There's just something about having a baby in your life for the first time that suddenly causes you to fall in love with the world in a way you couldn't have previously comprehended. Empathy suddenly becomes primary far surpassing all previous emotions combined. The transformation can be extraordinarily scary at times, but for the most part there is none more a beautiful, genuine and satisfying feeling possible.
My preface has purpose, though. I'm not just going soft and spewing the literary equivalent of a Carpenters song. To get to the point, we will now revisit a conversation the family and I were having in the car yesterday afternoon as we drove to a barbecue at Ryan, Jen, and Zachary's house (eye heart spring). We were talking about the the things that make families strong and concluded most importantly was it's ability to communicate with one another. Nadine asked Elijah if he knew that he could tell us anything, to which he said that he did...It's true, too; he does...I hope, even as the years progress, he always will, but in the meantime, I will make sure that I am always listening to hold up my end of the bargain. The whole conversation reminded me of how lucky I am to have such a great son and such a loving family.
Communication is the foundational strength of any relationship and not just of the familial variety. For example, when Zach starts to cry in the pack n play it is my role to figure out if he is either saying that; a) he is too tired to fall asleep at this moment but in the next five minutes will no longer have the energy to fight it, or b)that the odds of sleeping are similar to a snowball's chance of rolling through Death Valley in July. This morning he spoke the latter without any ambiguity in the delivery of the message. It appears Zach has turned into a one nap baby overnight and/or is too excited about exploring all the new crannies of the house to slow down for all the necessary pit stops. When he finally does run out of energy and crash, it is someplace odd such as his high chair at dinner last night. That's just another day in the life of the baby fast lane.
Slow and steady is not winning this race.

Friday Morning at the Improv

There lived a young man in a small village outside of Linz am Rhein whose only dream was to one day own a prize race horse. It was the sole idea his quixotic mind could embrace throughout his childhood and often approached the fringe of obsession according to his teachers and acquaintances. His mum and dad worried as he grew older that the so called phase they were sure he would outgrow, never succumbed to the oft fate of more idealistic childhood dreams.
Taking a job in the nearby Frankenstein stable was the only reasonable way someone with a fixation such as his could make a living and still be working with the animals whose grace, strength and beauty was of the kind that he could only imagine beings of the likes of Roman gods possessing.
In every moment of his waking time, once the washing, combing, feeding and shoveling was complete, he would additionally study all available documents of genealogy at his local bibliothek for every prize winning horse alive or dead as far as their pedigrees would divulge.
In addition to the private studies outside his organized curriculum he was also chosen to attend a gymnasium after hauptshule where he excelled and specialized in the field of genetics. Through all of his studies he was able to formulate an equation for predicting the odds of prizewinning parents to produce offspring of the greatest speed and highest value, which, as no coincidence, was not submitted to his department for review and possible publication upon completion.

Since he had saved every Deutsch mark he had ever earned and his concluded research provided all he needed to execute his master plan allowing him to fulfill his destiny, on a chilly September afternoon he left the gymnasium mid-term without a word to his parents or professors explaining why. There was nary a moment between closing his suitcase and opening his dormitory door as he set off for the Iffezheim racecourse just in time for the commencement of The Grosser Preis von Baden to meet the owners of who would become his future racehorse's parents.

...to be continued