Sledding

Gavin's "bed"

I have been traveling again so my blogging has been getting a bit bogged down.  (How is that for my English major use of alliteration)?  I was fortunate to find my way to New Orleans a few weeks ago and Chicago last week.  Carrie was able to join me for a day while in Chicago at the tail end of my conference and Quinny got to stay on the farm with his Iowa grandparents.  Neither snow, nor sleet nor hail...well maybe the snow.  The night before Carrie was supposed to take the nearly four hour drive it snowed roughly four inches.  It was just enough to wreak a little havoc on the roadways and give the wife some second thoughts. She was in the car with baby OG so getting stranded wasn't the best of options.  I'm not sure if you've ever driven from Iowa to Chicago but there is approximately one giant truck stop (the world's largest complete with movie theatre I'm told) and that's about it.  It's like the drive from Vegas to Los Angeles but a bit on the cooler side, at least during winter with signs that say 47 miles to the next gas station.  You can practically feel the vultures circling overhead.  But the sirens of Chicago were calling, and Carrie had already dropped the dog at her Aunt and Uncle's and Quinny was all taken care of.  The bags were packed, the car was gassed up and she was determined.  So off she went. 

She made it and in record time if you are rooting for the turtle.  She has to stop to feed Gavin and burp him and get Starbucks and go potty and well, it took a wee bit longer than expected, which as it turns out was fortunate it for our credit cards. The hotel was just a stone's throw from the Magnificent Mile as in one whole mile of shopping paradise.  We aren't talking Target here but Nordstrom's, Tiffany's and Cartier.  It's the sort of place that men dream of their wives window shopping and wives dream of their men being richer so they can blow more coin on diamonds, even in a recession a girl's best friend.

It did afford us a nice evening out at a deliciously decadent restaurant where we filled our stomachs with a meal to remember.  I believe my wife referred to it as a Christmas present within itself.  And you thought those dates, I mean trips to McDonald's wouldn't pay off.  Ha!  You set the bar low enough when it gets raised, it's like fireworks.  Just a night out without seeing a finger pointing and a mouth going "eerrrnnn, errrrneernnn."  That's 2 year old whine talk for guess what I want every three minutes?  It sounds really cute and maybe at your house it is but at ours it's like dude, use your words!!  When they can't talk and they are wailing and wailing you just wish they could tell you what the issue is. Then they get old enough and can talk and they grunt their way through life.  Seriously, we need a medal of some sort.  Oh, right expensive night in the big city.  It's the same thing.  Would you believe we made a reservation for 9:30.  PM! Yes, bed time.  We went out on the town at bed time.  And man, did we need that.  It was great.  We had a great evening out and then on the short walk home in the lit up city of Chicago, next to the river it began to snow.  If someone would've taken our baby we might have contemplated having one.  Oh, wait we have two. And that's why we were in Chicago.  Do you see how these things happen?

Upon arriving back to Cedar Rapids we found my car and sent Carrie on her way to the farm.  I headed back to the house to assume shoveling duties.  Santa, please, please, pretty please with sugar on top deliver me a monster snow blower.  I don't think I have any chance at all making it through the season without purchasing one.  It's like a Mexican standoff.  I keep looking at my driveway, the price tag, the driveway, the price tag and well you can understand where the standoff comes in.  I missed my best years of shoveling.  I don't recall this exactly but I am fairly certain during my high school years my father had a snow blower exempting me from cruel and unusual punishment so the last time I shoveled was when I was what? 10-12 years old.  From that point I was fortunate enough to live in that humid, warm jungle others refer to as Florida.  Did you know I still own a house there?  Or I was a renter when some other person shoveled for me.  So, at the ripe old age of let's say for blogger's sake I'm 25 I am picking up a shovel for the first time.  Now, I am a fairly competitive person and being such would like to shovel better than anyone in my immediate vicinity, but my own self assessment says I suck at shoveling.  Is it possible to have an awful technique translating into ice packs and Advil by the handful?  I mean can I stink at shoveling that bad?  I think I do.  And then I look at the price tag again.  Really?  Snow blowers are like daycare.  You're, well, you're just getting screwed my friend. 

And then I look, well actually I don't, but it is all anyone talks about.  You know the weather.  So I attend a Christmas party on Sunday.  Did you know we're supposed to get four more inches on Monday?  No, I didn't. Is this party open bar?  Sheesh!  Does it really have to snow every three days?  I would much prefer 12 inches at once every two weeks.  It's far more efficient.  So my crappy technique is out there every three days.  What's the date?  December?  People tell me it snows in April.  That's a joke right? 

The kid likes cooking or rather snacking

Well, the blog was about sledding and all this great snow has provided some father son activity so Quinny and I decide to go sledding on Saturday.  I strap on my kicks, because I only own three pairs of shoes (7 pairs of flip flops), mummify Quentin in his snowsuit and off we go into the winter wonderland.  It turns out, similar to Lucky, he's sort of afraid of snow.  He doesn't quite know what to think.  He knows he's not walking in that white stuff without holding dad's hand - for the entire time we were outside.  He wouldn't get in the sled without me getting in first and then well, then he enjoyed himself all the way to the bottom of our 14 degree drop of a hill (approximately 4 seconds).  At that point he wanted me to hold his hand as we made our way back up to the top of the hill and repeat.  I have snow in my shoes, socks, pants, etc., etc., etc. but I had bonding.  And really, it's about bonding.  The whole time we are "sledding" he wants to do what?  Well, he wants to shovel of course.  That's just great.  I only stink at at few things.  I mean really stink and he wants to do one of those activities.  "Dad, dad, shobel? Shobel dad! Let's shobel dad! C'mon we can shobel together."  Ahh.  But dude, "dad doesn't want to shobel. Not even a liddle bit."  It's too much.

14 pounds, 12 of which is in his cheeks

Upon heading inside I found out junior number two isn't so shrimpy anymore.  At his two week appointment he was in the 25th percentile.  Well, at two months he graduated into the 95th percentile. Atta boy! He was a whopping 14 pounds, a little over double his birth weight.  Quinny went along for the ride and weighed in at 34 pounds.  Hmm, do you think it's too early to send them out shobeling?  So we have two healthy and growing boys.  Quinny, we discovered today is getting his two year molars. That may explain a few things.  I can already see him getting braces.  He's growing up so fast! I "caught" him singing his ABC's.  I'm not sure what age those things start but he has a toy that sings and he was totallly singing along.  I was astonished.  Where is that number to Guinness?  Claery, this must be a prodigy we were blessed with!  It's crazy. 

Here are a few pics of Quinny sledding a couple of weeks ago when the four inches every few days began.

A Chill in the Air

First time in a snow suit!

It's a bit chilly here this morning.  It's so cold that when I opened the door to let the dog outside he peered out the door letting the sub zero air touch his whiskers and froze in his tracks.  He looked outside, he looked at me, he looked outside and back at me.  After about 45 seconds it dawned on him that nature calling was stronger than nature's blowing wind.  He didn't waste much time finding his "spot" though and sprinted back inside, all four legs in the air like a greyhound.  He's a bit older and presumably wiser, turning 21 last week. He's legal!  It's so windy outside that our home is making noises less than natural.  When the wind really kicks up (60 MPH gusts) it whistles loudly in an extremely high pitch.  It woke me up around 1:30 last night and I searched the house for the noise.  To no avail.  You could actually feel the wall our bed is perched against shaking.  Our fireplace fire was blown out twice.  Is that safe?  The good news is it's a cross wind and all the snow we got was blown off the driveway into the neighbors down the street.  So even though it's minus whatever outside I won't be braving windchills where no man has gone before but instead watching the Packers battle the Lions in an indoor stadium.  The metrodorm (Vikings) roof actually collapsed last night under the weight of 17 inches of snow.  Collapsed is a bit of a misnomer as the roof is kept at its height because air blows it up.  More accurately a tear developed, the air escaped and it collapsed.  Ironically the game was already cancelled and moved because the visiting Giants had their flight diverted from the Minneapolis/St. Paul airport due to its closing to Kansas City and are still stranded there now.  In case anyone was wondering it's 68 with some light rain in Tampa this morning.

We had such an awful night on Friday night we had Carrie's parents come get Quinny for the day.  With the sudden turn in the weather here he is essentially stranded up at their cabin in the back 40 in northern Iowa.  You have to carry a weather radio around with you in this state just to keep up.  We are definitely not used to that.  We made use of our time to head to a friend's house for dinner (in the middle of an ice storm).  It was the first night out we've had in a long, long time.  We had a good time and it was nice to visit with some local friends.  The night before Quinny was up at 10:45, 1, 1:30, 2:45, 3:30, and got up at 5:25.  Parenthood is so awesome.  Saturday morning no one had slept and that makes for a tough family dynamic.  No one had any patience for anyone else.  I decided to take the dog for a walk to blow off some steam.  Stinky took off on me and as it was raining/snowing out so he dumped me right on my duff.  Oh, I wasn't too pleased with that scenario.  He got me good.  The last thing I saw was my Adidas over my head and down on my arm I fell with a distinct thud.  The "lucky" dog is fortunate I didn't break an arm or our kid wouldn't have been the only one going to the farm.  So, I'm soaked, full of mud and really fired up now with a good quarter mile to blow off some more steam. I needed a marathon. 

What does one do when they really need to relax?  Well, they of course decide it's time to put up the Christmas lights outside.  Four increasingly frustrating trips to Menard's later we officially have our lights up.  I didn't even bother to see if they would turn on when I left.  I set up the timer and got in the car.  If I did it right they would be on when we came home.  I couldn't take any more failures for the day.  What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger right?  I was about to put that theory to the test.  As we rounded the corner to our block last night you couldn't see the lights.  I was already half way through the, "You've got to be kidding me..." speech when we drove past the house and there in all the snowy windy glory was our non-obnoxious but tastefully thrown together in freezing temperatures with four trips to Menard's and hundreds of dollars in more lights needed than anticipated lighted display of Casa de Iowa.  Shazam!  It took until 10 pm at night but we had our first win in 36 hours.  We could now go to bed. 

Not quite sure what to think of the big guy.



Enjoying a hot toddy!



Here are a few pics of the kids meeting Santa last week at an extended family Christmas celebration.  Translation:  there were 50 people there and I knew 8.  Did you know in Iowa people know who their third cousins are!  Really?  I can't even figure out what branch equates into a third cousin in the family tree.  It's nice to have a big family, but if these kids don't start sleeping we're stopping at seven instead of the eleven Carrie has her heart set on.  And maybe even six. I see a lot of grey hairs these days.

It's my birthday!

Quentin celebrated his second birthday yesterday but before we get into that we need to address the ice falling from the sky outside.  Yes, it's snowing.  It's exactly how I remember seeing it too.  It's cold.  It's windy and snow in real life looks exactly like the white stuff on TV.  We used to make fun of those people shoveling out in the cold as we watched from our couch clad only in our flip flops and shorts basking in the 80 degree sunshine.  Now, we are those people.  I guess that's irony, payback or karma.  Take your pick.  All I know is I keep looking at my driveway and I keep looking for a snow blower and back to the driveway and hello Mr. Snow blower?  Where are you?  Um, Santa, if you are listening...  I wasn't a math major but the driveway looks like an acre to me.  I might actually have to buy a shovel soon.  I am holding out hope some neighbor kid will stop by and do the whole thing for $5.  C'mon on neighborhood kid!

Enough about the weather.  It could turn out to be a balmy 65 tomorrow and maybe it will all melt before our 5 am wake up call.  Seriously, it could happen.  Quinny had his big bash on Saturday to coincide with the Badgers putting down another whooping on a Big Ten opponent.  I won't even brag about how it was the second most successful offensive output in the history of the Big Ten in a single season.  In case anyone was wondering Quinny was kind enough to break out the 19 inch black and white TV for the Iowa game in the basement for any fans that wanted to watch the mighty, well that may be the overstatement of the year, Hawkeyes lose to the Gophers. So it goes.  There was a lot of "next year" talk. Or was it next century?  

I digress. Unfortunately the Spiegelhoff clan was feverish and unable to make the trip.  If the fever breaks and that appears to be a pretty big if right now they will come down this weekend to celebrate.  Carrie's family was nicely represented with Grandma's and Grandpa's, Great Grandma's and Grandpa's, aunts, uncles and several cousins.  We had a full house to celebrate the big 0-2.  

For the first time Quinny really enjoyed opening up his gifts (plural).  The first thing he opened was a recorder.  You remember, like the one they gave you in music class when you were six.  It took him a few minutes to figure it out but then we had are very own Zamfir.  Don't even tell me you don't own some Zamfir CD's.  He's like Michael Bolton.  You won't admit it, but he's in your collection.  Even after mastering the recorder he still managed to open up gifts.  Usually he just falls in love with the first one and loses interest in the remaining gifts.  He received a soccer goal that encourages you to shoot accurately and "Score!"  This is a creative way to get that kicking under control.  No more kicking Lucky - hopefully. He received some books, cars, a sweet dump truck construction vehicle, a fire station, X-mas PJs, CD's and a shiny new Radio Flyer red bike. 

I thought he would be able to pedal the bike but no such luck.  It's adjustable so he can grow with it and he's much too big for the closest setting so that's not the issue.  We wanted one with a low center of gravity after reading reviews about two year olds taking tumbles.  I'm not one of those wussy parents.  I'm all for skinned knees and falling off bikes.  Helmets?  Really?  I mean we never had helmets and somehow managed to survive but I figure if today they build a better mouse trap than let's go with that one.  Well, the reviews forgot a crucial part.  Someone has to push that two year old while "riding" his new bike.  In that regard a low center of gravity equals Christmas at the Chiropractor.  Yowsers!  Of course he loves the thing and wants to ride in it every free moment, which means I'm 18 inches off the ground pushing him all over tarnation.  Being father of the year is not as easy as it looks. I am really really trying to get him to pedal.  "Just push with your legs buddy.  Yup, here, let me push your knees.  Got it?  What?  No, no, push with your legs.  Oh, man!?  Dude, c'mon just pedal.  You got it.  No?"  Hopefully he'll pick it up soon or I'm going to need back surgery.  One way or the other I guess the problem will be solved.  It is shiny.  For Christmas I think he needs a little bell or horn to go on the handle bars and maybe some streamers. 

After the gift opening we moved on to the monkey cake.  Carrie has a friend that made it and they did an excellent job.  It was the spitting image of the napkins, plates and balloons.  It took the Qster a few minutes to warm up to the singing but once his name was inserted it was all smiles and he was loving the attention.  He didn't know how to blow out the candles but after a few tries he blew it out.  He then pounded several pieces of cake.  He wasn't too interested in the ice cream, but loved the cake.  After that the Badgers wrapped up their Rose Bowl bid scoring 70 on Northwestern (that's a shame!) the guests filed out leaving Q to his new gifts to play with.

Since Saturday wasn't his actual birthday Carrie kept him home from school on Monday.  Who goes to school on their birthday?  Kids, tell you parents it's a national hooky day.  He started by getting up at 1am.  Yup!  One doesn't want to waste time when it's their birthday for only 24 hours.  I didn't fall asleep until after midnight so I was out cold.  By the time I woke up he was screaming bloody murder.  He was just screaming at the top of his lungs, "DADDY, DADDY, DAAAAAADDDDDDYYYYY!!!!!"  I got over there and I couldn't figure out what his deal was. After about 20 minutes I took him into our bed where he "hung out" for the next two hours "trying" to fall back asleep.  Around 4 he hit the sack and that screwed me up so I woke up super late for work and sprinted out of the house so I didn't get to give him a good happy birthday good bye.  After lounging the early morning hours away Carrie made him some pancakes with candles.  At this point he's getting pretty good at blowing them out. 

After breakfast Carrie tried to get him dressed.  He wasn't into that.  Nope, he decided he was going to wear his doggie jammies all day.  By the time I got home from work he's still sporting the doggie PJ's.  Carrie whipped up turkey dish number 417 so we had a little family feast for dinner.  This bird just won't die!  Of course we had to sing happy birthday again with the left over cake.  By this point Quinny was really into blowing out the candle.  I must have lit that thing six or seven times.  "I did it! One more! One more!"  Overall we had a great birthday.  It was nice to spend it with family and I think he really enjoyed it.  This morning he was still wearing the same PJ's.  Into the wash they went.  He finally took them off.

Here are a few pics from the birthday bash.