Do Something

I've been reading this book off and on since Julie picked it up on clearance. It's not a difficult read, not intellectually stimulating, it's simple... just like the man it's about.

Dan Ewald was Sparky Anderson's personal assistant from the time he (Anderson) arrived in Detroit. They forged a bond and remained very close after his retirement.  He focuses on all the small things, as he was Sparky's right hand man. Offseason, spring training, charity appearances, retirement, deathbed.

I haven't made it to the middle of the book yet, where the pictures are located. Each chapter is six-to-twenty pages, so it's my kind of reading.

If I don't read another page, the one excerpt that struck me was from one of Ewald's last trips to visit Sparky at his Thousand Oaks, California home. Sparky was an avid morning walker and prided himself on keeping in shape without the gym.

One Sunday morning, the author noted catching up to him on a walk. He had three newspapers in his hand and was coming off a neighbors front porch. A warm greeting, followed by a "what the hell are you doing with those papers?!"

"Danny, my boy! The paper boy leaves these at the end of the lane. I don't know anyone that lives in these houses, but the way I figure, I get these up to their front door and save them a few steps in the morning. Might be the best thing that happens to them today."

The one thing I've tried to pound home to my boys is that you leave things better than you found them. Don't just put the Legos away, take that cup into the kitchen too. Don't just stack the books, take them over to the shelf.

Many young parents struggle with explaining  the world we live in to their brood. Sometimes an explanation isn't necessary, it's simply living and leading by example. Yes, I have my flaws and I get saddened when I see my worst come out in my child. It makes me conscious of my actions and I don't repeat them (Julie may disagree).

In times of peril, we all know that we like to shift blame. This is stupid. It accomplishes nothing. Opinions are nothing more than thoughts and words and not.a.single.person. shares the exact same mindset.

When Julie and I were trying to conceive (Reid), I developed a habit of 'doing extra'. Every time I entered a bathroom, in my home, at work, anywhere... I always noticed a paper towel that missed the trash can. Call it karma, call it superstition, call it doing the right thing, I ALWAYS picked up anything that was strewn haphazardly onto the floor. I did this (among 528 other things) for fourteen long months. (I still like to think that the Big Man made note of this when science and divinity intervened)

After she became pregnant with Reid, it's something I still do. Whether I'm standing in my boxers at 5am or dressed up for a wedding - if the bathroom is unkempt, it gets tidied up by me. What I realized in retrospect is that it's just something I do. It's not something I ever thought I'd blog about, I'm not looking for adulation or a janitorial medal. It's making a point.

Since I've been an uncertified bathroom custodian, I have never once had a angry feeling come over me. It would be easy to have some resentment when I crouch over and palm a wet piece of paper (sometimes with nasty, squishy stuff in it). There have been my share of willies after scooping up a clump of hair, I just thank God I've never visited a ladies room (although I hear they're cleaner any way). But long to short, it's a simple act of kindness. I feel better and maybe someone else does too. I went from doing something to get something to doing something with no strings attached.

I see lots of inspirational quotes. I think we all do. What we, as humans need, aren't more words. If that were the case, we'd be the most inspired and motivated group of life forms any where. What we need as a world is action.

BE THE CHANGE YOU WANT TO SEE IN THE WORLD

###

Patience (yeah...)

I was driving home from work today and saw a man TOTALLY overreact to a car that had it's rear bumper (maybe) six inches over the crosswalk, trying to beat out a yellow light. The belligerent gentleman was turning left and looked like a complete fool as he inched behind Prick A and laid on his horn, cursing until the late model Tercel crept forward and onto the highway and out of his life until they possibly meet again tomorrow.

I reflected on this at the time I witnessed it, the next five minutes as I waited to enter I-71 northbound, and again as I was mowing this evening. The honking imbecile was me. Me in the morning. I like to think of myself as a morning person (I'm not). I like to be early. I like to have peace, tranquility, repose... all before the madness that is the day that lies ahead.

I like to leave for the office before 7:00. I lose my mind if I hear Matt Lauer's voice. If I'm three minutes behind, I have to follow the white Sequoia down narrow, impassable roads for seven miles. If I'm five minutes late, I have to watch junior high kids wait for the bus to come to a complete stop before exiting their house and mosey down their driveway. If I'm ten minutes late, to hell with it... the office gets donuts.

What Adam looks like in the morning...

Going home? There's this thing called "Dad Code". No commute is too long on the way home. Sometimes I wish I drove to and from Paducah. An empty bladder, beverage-in-tow, John Denver, and a scenic route... I'm fine with getting home after dusk to avoid the melee that awaits (sometimes).

Back to the lesson at hand though: patience. We all need to CTFO. For reals. There are far more pressing matters than the things that grind our gears... someone just lost a loved one, someone just ended a marriage, someone doesn't know where their next meal will come from, someone can't pay their water bill.

Julie and I learned a hard lesson in patience. We thought we'd have Reid nine months after our December wedding. SO naive. 

The original purpose of this blog was a coping mechanism for a couple struggling with infertility, or at the very least, struggling at TTC (trying to conceive). I seriously jokingly kept a running tab when we started visits to Kettering Reproductive Medicine in 2010, claiming I'd bill the fetus formerly known as 'Reggie' when he reached adulthood.

Six years later, I'm sucked away from the daily grind of a preschooler wearing at your every nerve and an infant needing your every spare second and meditating behind a lawnmower. I make a turn in my back yard tonight. I glance toward the window and see a beaming face of an almost four-year-old. "Hi Dad!", waving excitedly, crayon(s) in-hand.

My heart melts. I remember my purpose in life: lead by example, show compassion, be present, and be patient.

Parenting, marriage, adulthood - awesome. Grueling at times, but would not trade for all the fanciest ketchups... Dijon ketchups... in the world.

For all of the times I want to pull my hair out, have it surgically implanted, and pull it out again; I see my little guys reaction to SEEING HIS DAD and realize that I am his rock star and he is my groupie.

April Music

Best songs (maybe) not in your playlists...

"The River" - Son Little

"Lightning Bolt" - Jake Bugg

"Someday Baby" - R.L. Burnside

"Something Pretty" - Patrick Park

"In Spite of Ourselves" - John Prine

"Frank Sinatra" - Cake

"Vaseline Machine Gun" - Leo Kottke

"Go To Sleep" - The Avett Brothers

"Dancing In The Moonlight" - King Harvest

"Love of Mine" - Nickel Creek

"33" - Smashing Pumpkins

"Slow Your Breath Down" - Future of Forestry 

"I Shall Be Released" - The Band

"Hit 'Em Up Style" - Carolina Chocolate Drops

"Nightswimming" - R.E.M.

"Cologne" - Ben Folds

"Silvia" - Miike Snow

In My Life

"There are places I remember

All my life though some have changed

Some forever not for better

Some have gone and some remain"

I broke my cycle last month. I burned (planned) two vacation days in March. I'm the anti-squirrel that saves my time off acorns for late summer/early autumn. A saver, not a spender. I don't do this.

"All these places have their moments
With lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I've loved them all"

In my time off, I had a brief moment to reflect. My grandmother died seventeen years ago in March. I'm 34... that IS a lifetime ago! Then it dawned on me: my next birthday, I'll enter the third quarter of my life. There is no halftime or intermission... the average American male lives 74 point something years!

I did some self-evaluation. Gave myself a generous "B".

"But of all these friends and lovers

There is no one compares with you

And these memories lose their meaning

When I think of love as something new"

What does life have in store for my third quarter? 35-51... I can run for president at the beginning and at the end, legally drink a beer with Reid. 😳

A favorite instructor once told me, "if the plane is going down, you've gotta put your mask on first".

It's true. If you don't take care of yourself first, you are of no use to those who rely on you.

Q3 me isn't looking to be selfish. I just want to be a better man/husband/dad at the end of it.

"... In my life, I love you more"

I didn't choose the sap life, it chose me. We don't dwell on what we missed in this house. We learn, we overcome, we move on. 

We do recognize, however, when we hit a home run. With Julie, I don't want to be a better person, I am a better person. I'm excited that I get a full "second half" with my wife.

A good spouse pushes you beyond what you knew you were capable of. Thanks for the nudges along the way!

Gaps... lots of gaps!

Holy...

We last posted in May 2015?!?!?! Julie was 35 weeks pregnant?

It is true what they say, the second one gets lost in the shuffle. We've lost tabs on both the baby books, Harrison (that's the new kids name) is on the brink of crawling, has two bottom teeth poking through, has quite the personality (favors his mom), and loves tinkering with anything (read: touching/altering/moving/hitting anything within arms or legs reach).

With that in mind, as good bloggers do, Julie and I discussed "what to do" with the blog. We're not rookie parents any more. We don't make the time to maintain it, but I am not one to let things die.

She mentions that blogs (blog posts):
* need to be short and concise (agree)
* I tend to ramble (agree)
* require photos (somewhat agree)

Today's post won't feature any pictures. I wanted to share important lessons I've learned in the (almost) four years of parenting. Surprisingly, not many of them are geared toward the kids either. They're all about her and I. You too can apply these nuggets in your relationship (hopefully).

Re-connect

Lost in the doldrums of sitting around with a newborn child are the spark that once filled your life. "They" don't paint this picture very well on Teen Mom or any of the books you'll find on parenting.

Julie and I went from the parents of one awesome toddler the last time we made an entry to this site. Now, we're exhaling after the disaster that was/is Reid's third year (more on that later). The birth of #2 didn't feature all the pomp and coddling of #1. We left the hospital as a family of four and didn't get the chance to re-connect until about Christmas 2015.

We were I was so lost in the grind that I really lost focus on my spouse. I envied that she was taking time off to raise the kids. I hated when I was expected to do anything between the hours of midnight and 5:00 am. I loathed that she no longer had an income once the dust had settled. Long to short... I was becoming a miserable husband and it was affecting my father duties as well.

Patience wore thin with the kids, I took it out on everyone. Sleepy-Beeb has two moods: sleepy and agitated.

We agreed at the beginning of 2016 for one date a month (minimum). With the stress of the holiday season, butting heads for the majority of Harrison's young life, basically trading places with each other in the nursery... I was not a pleasant dude to be around.

Sadly, we didn't make our annual pilgrimage for our date night to Coldwater Café on our anniversary (12/20). We didn't even take our first date night until 1/27. That was the night where I think it all clicked. We didn't want to venture far... one of the kids didn't feel well, didn't want to overwhelm the babysitting service (thanks Grammie!).

We grabbed a couple stools and sat at the end of a bar that night. We talked. We flirted. We actually listened to each other. We ate way too much food and even held hands on the way home. (I don't remember any other sappy details, but I do know we got home in the 10:00 hour and someone played sentry with the kids while the other fell asleep before the 11:00 news).

A couple weeks went by and we got to take our belated anniversary date. Again, it was an abbreviated evening. Rush to dinner and rush home. But that one-on-one time though...

It wasn't until Julie took a weekend trip at the beginning of this month that I truly realized how much I MISSED my wife. Tending to the kids is nothing. Going through life without your confidant is miserable, whether they're miles away or your just not connecting with them while sitting three feet from them in your living room.

The past month has really put into focus where we're heading and what we're capable of as a duo. In the end, the kids won't be here forever, but we will. Our children are products of our love, but it's up to us to show them how to continue the cycle.

Our year is now a quarter over. Three months... poof! For the first time in a long time, I'm really looking forward to the spring/summer months and growing together as a family.

35

35
Is the number of weeks pregnant I am today.  What?!  I feel it in my bones that I'll go post dates, buttttt I know there is always the chance that I'll go early, which means really anytime between now and the middle of July is baby #2's birthday.  And me?  I can officially join the circus thanks to my elephant cankles.  The same miserable swelling plagued me 3 years ago (and worse last time, if I'm being honest)...  but man, oh man... it's hard with a toddler.  All I want to do is crash after work, but dinner, soccer, bathtime, bedtime... woof!  I am getting a prenatal massage the first week in June and I CANNOT WAIT.

This is about a week ago... dirty shirt, yes.  Extra large belly, yes.  CANKLES LIKE WHOA?  YES!

Over the weekend Adam installed shelving into the formerly dysfunctional closet (hate hate hate wire shelving units!).  I didn't have anywhere to put baby clothes due to the lack of space and furniture in the nursery... so I was just sitting around, waiting to wash Reid's old baby clothes.  And I was getting impatient.  And naggy.  But!  Adam worked hard and the shelves look GREAT and I washed the clothes.

>>Side note.  About half of the teeny tiny I-can't-part-with-ANY-of-these baby clothes had gross yellow stains all over them.  I swear I washed them before storing!  It must be a common thing since I found a ton of resources online about how to fix the problem.  I followed this easy advice with my trusty Kroger brand oxy clean that I use on diapers.  The first almost 24 hour soak just about sealed the deal, but I wasn't satisfied with the "bringing home baby from the hospital" onesie, so I did another 16ish hour soak.  Success!!!  The CFO of the family (Adam) will be very pleased.<<

Adam and I are taking Hypnobirthing classes this go around through Roots Wellness.  I am planning a VBAC, have hired a fabulous doula (who I spent a fun day with at the Columbus BirthWithoutFear conference a couple weeks ago), and we will be utilizing a birth photographer (but will also pop in for some newborn shots with the ever so talented Ivory Lamb Photography).  I am back at LLL meetings, have an order of fresh (newborn sized!) cloth diapers to pick up from Samozrejme in Troy, and my stash of PP cloth pads are stacking up nicely.  :)

But who cares about all that?  I know you're here for the pictures.

Reid turned 3.  THREE!!

Reid's first soccer game went something like this...

Grammy taught Reid a song about "tall man" and he LOVES showing us "tall man."

Reid's second soccer game went something like this...

Curly.

3 year wellness appointment...  and Reid insisted on wearing my BirthWithoutFear nametag/lanyard.

Park play date with a blue lolly and a handsome boy.

Seven more days of school.  That is all.

Reid Speak

Reid: (after reading two bedtime stories)  Mama, let's snuggle.
Julie: Okay, but only for a couple minutes.
R: (wraps arms around my neck, gazes into my eyes)  Mama, you're my big girl.

++++++++++++

Julie:  What's your baby brother's name?
Reid: Ohmygosh Conley.  No, Hilarious Conley.

++++++++++++

Julie:  (at the sitter's house)  Reid.  Reid!  REID!
Reid: (running around, clearly ignoring)
J: One... Two...
R: Mama, I don't like you right now.  I don't like you or want you, but I still love you.

++++++++++++

Julie:  If you want a cupcake, you have to finish all of your dinner.  Including those carrots and the red pepper.
Reid:  Totally.
R:  (rolls eyes)

++++++++++++

Julie:  What's your baby brother's name?
Reid: Conley Conley
R: Hot Dog Conley
R: Pancake Conley
J:

Baby #2

Adam and I have been (not really that) busily working to get another nursery ready for this summer.

The room slated for boy #2 (nameless at the moment) is tiny.  It was originally an office, then a guest room, and now, a tight little nursery.  It's still a work in progress--Adam is about to start a little DIY/ reno on the closet following the ideas from this blog I follow and this blog too (with an update here). The nursery isn't finished (need to add some shelves/ wall art/ big rug/ other stuff), but it's not unbearable at this point either... so from my iPhone camera roll I give you nursery #2!


Upon entry... The chair is from Reid's nursery, the curtains are currently tied so Lucy can look outside, the table was found at Hobby Lobby by my mother-in-law (it's perfect!!), and lamp is old.

The picture (a wedding gift) is from a local artist and is of the church Adam and I were married!  I am not planning to leave the current artwork up, though it actually looks matchy here in this picture.

The wooden star was a gift from Shlie, my BFFAW.  It's been in there since the guest room was happening.  The crib was Reid's.  All of the bedding, except the Alligator quilt and white receiving blanket were also Reid's (all from PBK).  I got pretty lucky in that Reid's bedding has LOTS of colors, and we can reuse while still making the room new.  Reid's room is darker (walls are chocolate brown) with red and navy.  This room will be tan, with white and navy, and some green.

Another view, a little closer.

Confession:  I was linked to Saranoni through a blog I follow and then through Instagram.  I saw the prices and thought hookay, maybe not. Then I saw a "warehouse" sale posted, and I followed the link to some totally reasonably priced luxurious-looking blankets.  They showed up on the doorstep last week, and ohmygossssh.  I cannot express the soft amazingness of these blankets.  Cannot wait to use them (or steal them for myself).

This is the other "mini" Saranoni blanket we purchased.  The white dream blanket and cozy blue blanket were Reid's, and also amazing.  You can never have enough Aden + Anias!

We don't have room for a big dresser (like the 6-drawer matches-the-crib one in Reid's room), so we got this smaller one at Ikea.  Looks like the changing pad is just going to fit.  The drawers are already filled up with cloth diapers... and only about half our stash.  We will have to be creative about storage in this room!  The mirror will be hung right above the dresser.

The closet.  It had builder-grade white wire shelving, which I despise... so Adam ripped it out.  As I said, he's in the process of renovating it to include some better shelving and sturdier rods for hanging clothes.  Oh, and Noelle, there's your pump!  Want to trade that beast for the Ergo and ringsling? :)

I think she's salty that her front window is partially blocked.

-------------------------------------------------

And not nursery, but Easter pictures from today and yesterday.  Sneezy McSneezerson below.

At the park right behind our church.

Matching shades from Grandma and PopPop.

Counting eggs with PopPop.

Sending selfies to dadda (sans make-up... yow!)

Confessions...

...I just ate Reese's Chocolate Peanut Butter ice cream, straight from the tub...

... (because) I lost the battle of bedtime and Reid is sleeping on the couch...

... and it's after 10pm...

... and I gave up snacking after dinner for Lent...

... oh, and I'm 25 weeks + 5 days pregnant.

The End.

XOXO, 

Julie

PS: bring back the blog or let it continue to slooooooooowly die??  {{discuss}}

Year In Review - 2014 (Part 1 - Winter Winds)

Since we haven't posted since July... JULY, thought I'd reminisce on the year that was over the coming days.


Clif's Notes version: 2014 has been: awesome, sucky, stressful, painful, fun, sad, bitter, an adjustment, etc. Kind of how we reflect on every year.


One thing that made me LOL (literally... I don't overuse that acronym, and for those that know me, hearty laughs/coffee out my nose aren't in my scope of practice) while reminiscing on the year that was, I'll share below.

In January, we were blessed with bitter cold temperatures. By bitter cold, I mean: the cold air that stings your lungs when you inhale. The kind of cold that makes your knuckles ache. The kind that eats its way through three layers of clothing.

On multiple occasions in January/February, we took over 50+ calls for service, the majority being for "water emergencies". Not the fun type, as depicted above, but 3:22am calls for burst pipes in an apartment complex.

One particular night, after it became predictable, we were called to a two-story apartment complex on the north end of our zone for a water emergency. We made contact with the caller, who resided in the first floor of the dwelling. We were beckoned to the rear of his townhouse, where he pointed to the wall of his utility room and he pointed three feet above the washer & dryer and asked, "Is this normal?"

"Is this normal?" referred to not this:

...but more like this:

After 1.8 seconds, we determined the water was coming from the unit above the resident, to which he told us the residence had been vacant since March.... 10-11 months. Acting quickly, we threw a ladder to the balcony and forced entry on the sliding door. Once in, we traipsed through ankle deep water and found the root of the problem, shut off the water, and squeegeed for a solid two hours.

Am I the only one that when I work out or do strenuous activity, my head itches like a mother? I can still feel my scalp just typing this...

Anyhow, the funny part. We load up all of our equipment: ladders, tools, wet vac, et al. Standard protocol during the winter is to keep all the apparatus running, to keep tanks from freezing... however, when we arrived, our electrical had been cutting in and out, so we opted to shut it down for the duration of our stay.

As soon as I engaged the ignition, my OIC had a slip of the foot and hit our foot-mounted air horn. This air horn is only used in short bursts at intersections and in the event of an evacuation at a scene. At 11:00pm on a weeknight, the apartments sitting within the horseshoe had all turned in for the night, and you could see each unit sequentially turn on their lights, wondering if the four horsemen were following our rig.

In this particular complex, space was tight and the road makes a semi-circle back out to the side street. We were in the "7:00 position" of the complex, so we had to go all the way around the horseshoe to "6:00" to exit. Aside from ripping out the fuse box, we had only one option: turn on the lights and sirens and haul ass back to quarters.

On our return, we waited over an hour in the watch room for a call from the Battalion Chief that never came... assuming someone had to call us in to report us as if we were rowdy teenagers.

I think I had a full nights sleep maybe once a week over that cold spell, but I learned a lot being out every waking second of the nights when I was working. Looking forward to more of the same in 2015.