Kintropy In Action

"Hey, Dad," Gabriel started. 

I glanced in the rear view mirror, then switched back to the road.  "Yeah?"

"If we have to sleep in the car, at least I have my teddy bear."

I sighed.  Gabriel and I had left the Rose Garden parking lot about five minutes before.  We had second row seats to the Winterhawks Teddy Bear Toss game.  Gabriel and I had tossed four sacrifical teddy bears on to the ice after the Winterhawks first goal, but I had bought two keepers and kept them in the car for him (trust me:  the tears of separation from the sacrifical bears would have been pretty grim without this little bit of planning).

But now, driving home, I had made a different turn.  The signs were guiding us to the 5.  I knew we would make it to the 5 eventually.  Gabriel, though, based on some experience, was convinced that Dad was yet again lost.

"We're almost to the 5, Gabriel."

"But if we do have to sleep in the car, I have my teddy bear.  Will it be morning when we get home?"

Double sigh.

The freeway did ultimately appear and work-drive-patterns kicked in, leading me to the correct interchanges to bring us home.  All of us home:  Gabriel, me, the golden teddy bear, and the chocolate brown teddy bear.

-- Dad

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A few weeks ago, after months of admiring from afar, I bought a Keurig coffee maker.  Janette was very understanding as I unwrapped it, cleaned it, and plugged it in.  Coffee is important to me.  She was willing to make allowances.

It's nights like tonight that make that purchase worthwhile.  After a long, extended day at work, I popped in a Kenya AA coffee, pushed a button, and shared a very tasty, dark roast alongside some laptop work (like I said, long day).  Now I am enjoying some Earl Grey tea and orange blossom honey as I write.

Kids are in bed.  Dad has coffee and tea.  Dad happy.

-- Dad

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When we go out, particularly for a meal, we bring the Magic Red Bag.  Hannah stares at the Bag, laughs when she sees the Bag, and occasionally lunges for the Bag.  She knows her DVD player and red DVD wallet are tucked away in there:  her "la las." 

And Hannah has conditioned us, too.  We know not to get between her and her Bag.

Being that Hannah has a portable DVD player, we thought it fair to get Gabriel his own for a recent long trip.  He now keeps it stashed in his room, and he asks politely to use it for time to time.  Recently, he dug through the DVD boxes, found something he liked from the "kids" section, and went off to his room to watch it.

A few hours later, we gathered at the table for dinner.

"I love that movie," Gabriel started.

"Hmmm," Janette or I prompted absently.  Hannah looked up from her toys.  She generally finds Gabriel's revelations amusing.

"You know the movie I borrowed, 'Spocky and Nose Whistle.'"

"Huh?" I asked.  Gabriel now had my rapt attention.  What the heck was he watching?

"The cartoon!  'Spocky and Nose Whistle.'"

I laughed.  "You mean... Rocky and Bullwinkle."

"That's what I said!"

"No, you said Spocky and Nose Whistle."

"Uhhh," Gabriel groaned.

Janette softened things up, sharing her favorite parts of Rocky, Peabody, and the other cartoons included in the set.  I giggled at what Spocky and Nose Whistle must look like, and Hannah joined me, laughing, too.

Both the kids certainly love their DVD players.  Hannah has her Magic Red Bag.  And Gabriel has his cartoon classics!

-- Dad

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So Gabriel believes he has found his new sport.  And it's ice hockey.  This for the kid for whom running and dribbling the ball at the same time presents certain coordination challenges.  Sigh.

Weeks ago, we bought tickets to attend this weekend's Winterhawks game with Gabriel's Cub Scout troop.  This was before we all got sick.  Before Hannah missed a week of school due to bronchial junk.  Before I left work Friday feeling a little green.

So imagine my excitement, edified by Musinex and Tylenol, at the prospect of attending a hockey game with Mr. G. 

Hannah was beside herself with anger at not being included, of course.  As Gabriel and I prepared to leave, she pouted, a tendril of green snot running from her nose into her lip.  I apologized to her, reminded her that she wasn't so thrilled with sit-still events yet, and then Gabriel and I headed out.  Hack, hack.  Cough, cough.

Well, we settled in.  Gabriel waved and called out to the couple of scouts he knew.  We grabbed our hot dog, drinks, and popcorn, and then the game began.

Of course, this particular hockey game was a huge nailbiter.  Body slam, fight, score, body slam, another fight, another score.  With 2.6 seconds left, our home team Winterhawks managed to tie the game at 3 each.  Overtime was scoreless, and then our team won a tension-filled shootout to win the game 4-3.

I quized Gabriel on the way out to the parking lot.

"Well, now you've seen four sporting events:  ice hockey, basketball, lacrosse, and baseball.  What's your favorite?"

"Ice hockey!  Can we come back next week?"

So this is going to be his sport?  We brought home a hockey puck each for him and Hannah.  If this is going to be it, I hope he's interested in dentistry as a career.

-- Dad

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Just a FYI on a new blog carnival w/ the subject Disability and Work.  Penny Richards at Disability Studies, along with some hard working hosts, has kept this flame going for awhile now.  Check out the latest issue when you have time!

-- Dad

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Gabriel woke with a bad cough Friday morning.  We kept him home, expecting the inevitable escalation, spread to other family members, and fever patrol.

We weren't disappointed.

Hannah is taking a mid-day fever nap near the office as I write.  She woke this morning groggy and eyes half-closed.  Her fever was running in the 100-101 F range. Gabriel woke with rosy cheeks as well.  We're tracking dosages on a post-it attached to the locked medicine cabinet.  Every 4-6 hours, we're documenting a new dose, time, and kid.

Being that Gabriel is prone to throwing up when he gets a fever, I've asked him to carry around a round, plastic bowl.

"This is your friend," I introduced the bowl to Gabriel.  "Take him with you wherever you go."

"C'mon friend," Gabriel said, towing the bowl to the tv couch.

Now that Hannah is also sick, Gabriel insisted she get a bowl-friend, too.  Hannah doesn't throw up, per se, due to a surgical procedure that makes her stomach a one-way event.  We relieve her gas and throw-upness via g-tube.  Still, it did seem fair, so I pulled out a small plastic bowl and made similar introductions for Hannah.

"Have you named yours?" I asked Gabriel.

"Tom," he said.

"That's sensible."

"And Hannah's is named Jerry," Gabriel said.

So Gabriel and Hannah are carrying Tom and Jerry with them wherever they go today.  And we'll keep score in 4-6 hour increments on the medicine cabinet.

-- Dad

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This afternoon, there was a knock at the door.  Gabriel, ever curious, scouted from our front window.

"There's a lot of people at the door!" he cheered.

I walked to the door with him.  "You can open up," I said.

Gabriel opened the door.  A young lady stood there, and she quickly introduced herself and the half dozen plus young people behind her.  "We're from a local church, and we'd like to rake your lawn."

Our lawn was ripe for the raking, of course.  Over the last two days, the large, wide-leaf tree standing directly in front of the house coughed up half of its golden leaves.  They covered the lawn and the driveway.

"How much would we pay you?" I asked.

"It's free."  She handed me a card from her church, the East River Fellowship .  "We just want to introduce people to our church and help out the neighborhood."

I asked a few more questions and again offered to donate money.  She politely refused, and I took her up on her offer.

As she and her large group of helpers pulled out their rakes, I asked Gabriel, "Wanna help?"

"Yeah!"

Gabriel and I threw on our shoes, hunted for our own rakes, and joined in the work for a few minutes.  The church group worked well together, chiding each other with small talk along the way.  They worked efficiently, some raking, some bagging, but teased and jostled each other along the way.  This wasn't a solemn event or a check-the-card, forced community project.  They were having a good time.

Gabriel and I "finished" quickly, having done way less than 5% of the work.  I asked if we could donate to the church again.  The same young lady I had spoken with before called over the youth adviser.  He again turned me down, explaining that they just wanted to help out for the sake of helping out.

Janette and Hannah, having donned coats, joined us on the short ramp that leads to our front door.  Hannah eagerly followed all the young folks raking, beating bushes, and bagging leaves.  I sang a few songs for her, and she clapped enthusiastically.

The church team finished raking in about ten minutes.  They packed leaf bags and tools into a pickup nearby and plotted a move to another neighbor's door (and probably their lawn).

"Thanks again," I called to the advisor.  Knowing that they were probably out drumming up interest in coming to their church, I apologized, "We're Jewish."

He smiled, maybe shrugged.  "It's a good mitzvah you did for us.  Thank you," I said.

They headed off to their next job, making the neighborhood a better place.  I marveled at their genuine display of Tikkun Olam - the Jewish concept of repairing the world through social action.  In this case, these kids literally reached out and made the neighborhood a better place through an unrequested and uncompensated good work.

What a great example for both Gabriel and Hannah to see.  I hope our family, and our neighborhood, will find ways to follow their lead.

-- Dad

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Looks like I'll be eating some crow for dinner (and breakfast on Monday).  Sigh.  Go Huskies?

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 02:24 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

So I got an email from a co-worker a few days ago.  She encouraged me to read the forwarded email she was sending on to me before responding to the subject line.  Not a good sign.

I read - slowly, calmly.  A co-worker from our parent company had been alerted to the fact that I, an Oregon resident, was brazenly wearing a UW Huskies pullover just days before the big Dawgs-Ducks game this weekend.  He, a UO graduate, recommended immediate disciplinary action.  I, a UW graduate, responded - slowly, calmly - something along the lines of, "Bring it on!"

Yes, boys will be boys.  He and I settled into a few more taunts, then the following agreement:

1. The loser buys a t-shirt in the winner's team's colors and provided it to the winner
2. A snapshot is taken of the winner in his new team-spirit shirt
3. The loser must host the photo of the winner on his desk for the remainder of the football season

So, although I would have caught parts of the game tomorrow, the game will now have my rapt attention starting at 12:30.  I have invited our house's one other big football fan, Hannah, to join me.  Gabriel was invited, too, but he'll come for the snacks, then play his DS.  Hannah will watch and play and demand songs from me, but she'll actually enjoy watching the game.

Janette, on the other hand, will be headed out to enjoy a movie (she informs me).

So let's cheer on the Huskies, shall we?  Diary of 1 runs a great sports merchandise store:  Team Mascot.  Hopefully, this is where my work friend can buy me a t-shirt when his team loses.  Go Dawgs!

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 08:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

It's late, and the kids are in bed.  Asleep, actually asleep!

Getting both kids to calm down, lay down, and sleep has been astoundingly hard for years.  We've tried the books.  We've built the rituals.  We've counted - lots of by the time I count tos.  But for the last two days, both have been going down to bed and sleep remarkably well.  Here's what we've changed.  I know two points only make a line, but I hoping this is maybe a trend.

We clarified expectations with Gabriel.  In room by x, in bed by y, asleep by z time.  With him, provided he lays his head down, he can turn off and go to sleep.  Give him a book, a stuffed animal, any other distraction, and you'll be chatting with him until 11 or later!

With Hannah, Janette has been working with her on, let's say, more regular potty rituals w/ assistance on getting comfortable.  With the gas gone or controlled, she's tons happier right now & ready to go to bed w/ less pain, turning, etc..

Again, not a trend yet, but hopefully good signs.  Our bedtime rituals (read books, cuddle time, etc.) have become fodder for our two Stallmasters.  At the moment, though, we have relative quiet and peace.  I know I'm jinxing it by saying that, but maybe if I say it, clap my hands, and click my socked heels together, it'll keep working.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 09:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

After our night's adventure, I was surprised to see Gabriel wake in good spirits.  I had expected some stiffness, but he walked around easily.  Gabriel and I headed to the breakfast buffet while Janette woke and got Hannah ready.  They met us there soon after.

Waffles, check!  Bacon, check!  Eggs, check!  So far, so good.

Afterward, we snapped some pictures of the kids, and then we headed upstairs to walk off breakfast prior to going back into the waterpark.  As we walked, Gabriel slowed.

"You okay, buddy?" I asked.  Hannah wheeled beside him, taking in the sights - high ceilings, flashing lights from the arcade.

"Yeah, I'm okay." 

"You sound kind of mope-y," I said.

"Sorry."

"That's okay.  You feel alright?"

"Yeah."

We walked to the 2nd floor elevator and prepared to go back to our room on the 3rd floor.  I turned toward the elevator.  Gabriel stared at the carpet; then he threw up.

"Sorry," he said.

Janette popped him over the restroom to finish the cycle.  A staff member from the arcade stepped in to help us.

"Do you want me to call for some medical assistance?" she asked.

I debated silently.  Gabriel's fall eight or so hours before lingered in my mind.  "Yeah, probably a good idea.  He fell of his bunk-bed last night."

"Oh," she replied.  She called it in.  I sat with Hannah and waited for help to arrive.

Gabriel emerged from the bathroom, his pj shirt spattered with breakfast.  "Sorry," he repeated.

"It's okay, buddy." 

The pool supervisor showed up and asked the medical questions while Janette took Gabriel and Hannah back to the room.  I walked her through the bunk story from the night before, but also let her know Gabriel had complained briefly about his tummy that morning.  My guess was virus.  I didn't see any sign of a concussion aside from the vomitting.  She took notes; then left with an offer of assistance if needed.

The cleaning crew came by and scrubbed, sanded, then vacuumed our 2nd floor elevator memento.  I joined Gabriel in the room, checked his temp (fever), and popped him into our bed (the bunk bed would not see him again this trip). 

Janette and Hannah headed to the water park while Gabriel and I held down the fort for the day.  He managed to keep some food down and slept for 3 hours.  I continued to watch for signs of a concussion, but the vomitting aside, I didn't see anything else.  The room's ice bucket came in handy after an attempted delivery of Tylenol failed, but most of the rest of the day was uneventful.

 Janette and Hannah popped in and out of the room, and Hannah clearly enjoyed the water park (more on that later).  Gabriel regained some energy in the evening.  He and I ventured out briefly to play a game called MagiQuest:  an electronic treasure hunting game played out along five levels of the lodge.  Then we called it a night.

By morning, he was back to normal:  no fever.  I hoped our third and final day at Great Wolf Lodge would be spent, uneventfully, in the water park itself.

-- Dad 

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"So Hannah," I started.  She looked up from the potty, eyes 3 am bright.  "What goes garble-garble, step, step, klunk, WAAAAAAAAH!"

Hannah laughed.  Janette told me to stop it.  Gabriel, tears blinked away now, slept quietly on our bed.

"It was kind of funny," I grumbled.  Hannah enjoyed my re-enactment of Gabriel's sleepwalk/tumble down from the bunk-bed.  It made her laugh.  Mom?  Not so much.

I was just glad he hadn't really gotten hurt.  I woke maybe a minute before 2:30am - listening to the quiet of our first night at Great Wolf Lodge in Washington.  We had enjoyed a fun half-day in the water after check in.  Hannah had played in the kiddie-pool and tide pool.  Gabriel and Janette, then Gabriel and me had sped down the 48" height required water slides.  It had been a fun, full day.

I heard Gabriel wake in sleepwalking mode, muttering to himself within a minute of waking myself.  I considered moving over to the bunk bed he and Hannah were sharing, but figured since he had a bunk bed at home, he'd be okay.  

He took the first step.  I was showering him in my confidence by staying in bed, listening attentively.  He could make it.

He made the second step.  Ah, no worries.  He would make it.

Then he fell.  And howled.

At Great Wolf Lodge, the hours between 11pm and 7am are officially quiet time:  hibernation time, in wolf speak.  Well, we were certainly the unruly cub of the pack at that moment.  Gabriel's howl was loud and long.  Janette and I both went to the bed.  We quickly paired off:  her with Hannah (up now, might as well go the bathroom; me, with Gabriel.

"Gabriel, what hurts!"

"My back."  Sniffle.  Sniffle.  "Owwwww..."  He shook with still-not-awake sleepwalkiness.  He walked about easily.  I quickly checked his eyes, looked for blood, looked for quick bruising or anything serious on his back.  Nothing showed. 

He and I talked further, but he really just wanted to say "Ow" and crawl back to sleep (in our bed instead, of course).  I managed to get him to take some ibruprofin, and I grabbed some ice in a bag from the vending machine.  I set the ice in a towel and layed it across his back.

"Thanks, Dad."  And then he was back asleep.

He woke easily the next morning, not stiff, but a little out of sorts.  All seemed good:  at least no concussion.  On to the next day, our second day of family vacation.  At this point, I was sure we had paid our unseen companion, the peculiar vacation gremlin, its toll for this vacation.

I was, of course, wrong.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 02:25 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Today we toured Hannah's new kindergarten classroom & school.  Hannah looked around as we wheeled through the halls, and she seemed genuinely interested in meeting her teachers and peeking around the classroom.  All in all, a good first visit.

Of course, there's lots more story there:  the drama of trying to get her brother transferred to the same school, for starters.  Mom has spent lots and lots of time on the phone for the last two weeks, for which I commend her, but we're still struggling uphill a bit to make the semi-promised transfer actually happen.  Stay tuned for more on that.

Other than that, summer is definitely coming to a close.  Lots of vacations here on our blog (more the norm lately than the exception), but we'll see if the school schedules put Mom and Dad back on a better writing, reading, & followup schedule, too.

Take care, all.  Enjoy summer's last gasp & see you on the other side shortly!

-- Dad

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After learning that Nini had died and that he and I were headed to Denver, Gabriel went through the kids' version of grief.

"I'm so excited to be flying to Denver!" he exclaimed, "But sad that Nini died."

"That makes sense," I said.

"I call it happy-sad because I'm happy to go to Denver, but sad that Nini died."

"That's a good way of putting it."

"Yeah.  I think Nini is a ghost now."

"Do you think she's happy?"

"Yes, a happy ghost."

I like Gabriel's version of grief personally.  Of course, he shared it with his five-year-old cousin, J, on the way to the airport.  I'm sure J will be getting quite an education this trip.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 08:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

-- Dad

Updated from Denver - Janette loaded the original for me, but something got lost in the file transfer.  Being a "completest", I've added the missing part back.

Posted by parents at 09:20 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

"Hey, does everyone need hugs?"

Gabriel was prowling the dark office at 10:30pm.  It lays adjacent to his room:  conveniently located post-bedtime, apparently.

Mom and I sat next to each other, typing away at our computers (probably both on Facebook).  Gabriel hugged each of us in turn.

"Dad?" Gabriel asked.  I could see him turning on the sweetness, ready to ask for something.  I had given him a time out about two hours before.  He was attempting to work back into my good graces.  "Tomorrow, maybe we can play Super Smash Brothers."

I turned toward Gabriel.  "Gabriel, this is a really busy week at work.  When I get home, I may not feel like playing video games."

"Okay," he said, "I'll take that as 'that depends.'"

I laughed.

"Maybe when you get home, we'll play Super Mario Brothers.  That depends, right?"

"Yeah, something like that.  I may not want to play a video game, but we'll do something together."

"Ok, Dad."

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 08:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

You know when you have A Moment:  a second where the world stops spinning you dizzy, sounds and motion pause, and you're just there.  Enjoying the there.  Forgetting the not-there.

I had one of those yesterday, July 4th.  Janette had just completed the play structure a few hours earlier, bringing a three-plus year endevour to a close.  I cannot imagine the joy she felt as both Hannah and Gabriel played on the swings, rode the slides, climbed (or were carried, in Hannah's case) to the top to look down.  Despite the heat, with the help of water and shade, both kids enjoyed the new play space.  More than that, the completion meant in many ways, we weren't in triage mode with Hannah.  We were moving forward:  a good independence theme for the 4th.

As evening set in, after the BBQ cooled, Gabriel and I went outside together, just by ourselves.  We sat on the swings, chatting about the day.  He was excited to start the fireworks when it was dark enough.  I was just enjoying the gentle sway of the swing.

Then I tipped backwards a bit, looking straight up into the sky.  An evergreen tree and our apple tree shook hands above me, parting fingers to let the dusky sky through.  

"Try this," I said to Gabriel, showing him how I tipped back to see straight up into the sky.

He copied me.  "Cool!"

And then there was quiet.  Just us, the trees, the cooling evening, the fading blue sky:  A Moment.  I held it for as long as I could.  Janette came outside to see what we were up to.  I encouraged her to try it, too.  She agreed it was a beautiful view.  Briefly, we shared A Moment.

Then it was gone.  I took a deep breath, refreshed, and I headed back inside.

-- Dad

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I tried to put Michael Jackson's death into perspective for Gabriel and Hannah.  "He was a huge star.  Oh, and he did a video with dancing zombies."

This got Gabriel's attention.  He has been trying to impress me with his love of all things scary lately, so Hannah, Gabriel, and I sat and watched VH1 replay the short version of Thriller. Hannah looked up from her toys in a few parts, but seemed mostly unimpressed.  Gabriel watched transfixed by the dancing zombies.

And Gabriel had questions.  "What made him into a zombie?"

"I think dancing with zombies."

"I think it was the water," Gabriel countered.  "It turned him into a zombie, then back, then a zombie again."

The kids and I were headed out to a muffin shop we have nearby, meeting up with family and looking at a classic car show in the parking lot.  I loaded my mp3 player with Michael Jackson songs for the ride, and we headed out.

Hannah gave several clap approvals to "Man in the Mirror" and "Gotta Be Starting Something."  Gabriel perked up when Thriller came on, and I explained how big a horror movie actor Vincent Price had been.  At the end of Thriller, when Vincent Price cackles, Hannah burst out laughing.

Somehow, somewhere, Gabriel must have made a connection.  For most of the day, he has been saying things like "The kids at the park were talking about Mike, too." and "I like Mike and zombies."

I'm not sure why Gabriel and Michael Jackson are on such friendly terms, but I think it's cool that he and Hannah had a chance, albiet belatedly, to hear, clap to, and watch his music today.  A little piece of my childhood celebrated with the kids.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 07:28 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

I pitched the idea today that it was "Father's Day Weekend" rather than a single day event, Father's Day, tomorrow.  Gabriel latched on to the idea.  Hannah was ready to cling to me no matter my position.  Mom was a bit more skeptical.

"Hey!" she protested, indignant.

I even found a football game, in the middle of summer (local high schools) that we could attend tonight.  Still no dice.  I did get a long, uninterrupted nap this afternoon, though, which probably qualifies as an extension of Father's Day by at least half-a-day. And then I had to go into work to troubleshoot an issue (now fixed).   Argh.

We're spending tomorrow with family, so hoping that goes off without a hitch.  To all the fathers out there, I hope you enjoy your day with your family!

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 10:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Up on night watch, waiting to add food to Hannah's Kangaroo pump.  I think the 2nd or 3rd day post-surgery is the most painful & irritating, and Hannah would probably agree.  She's having a hard time getting & staying comfortable. 

We've been through the Tylenol, saline mist (keep her throat and mouth from getting too dry & uncomfortable), the diaper change, the singing, and a quick new blanket to keep the bed fresh.  I noticed a little color in the bed around her mouth, probably from loosening stitches and/or reduction in swelling allowing things to flow a bit.

Overall, I think she is doing okay.  During the evenings before bed, she's playing, giggling, and staying active.  We're hoping that, post healing, the nights and sleep also improve.  For everyone.  Parents included!

Gabriel is being a champ, helping entertain Hannah when the surgery & recovery turn the cranky up to 11.  His last day at school as a 1st grader was yesterday, so he is, I'm sure, celebrating the start of summer vacation.

Will write more soon & flow back into story mode.  Lots to share from the last few months, and I'm sure we'll be out adventuring this weekend for Father's Day.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 10:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Seems appropriate to relaunch a bit with a Hannah hospital story.  This, though, is a planned visit.  Hannah is in overnight with Janette, post-tonsil out surgery.  We're hoping this helps her get through, over, and done with sleep apnea.  If it does, we'll all be sleeping much more soundly & maybe ditching the last of the O2 equipment (we hope we hope we hope).

Anyway, the two funny cute moments tonight were:

• The night nurse came in to take Hannah's vitals and introduce herself.  It was past 7:30pm, and Wheel of Fortune was on:  probably Hannah's favorite show.  After a quick blood pressure & vitals check, the nurse hung out for a bit.  Hannah craned her neck to see the tv over the nurse; then, still staring at the tv, absently dismissed the nurse with a princess wave of her hand.  Ah, so Hannah!  Gotta compliment her communication skills.

• Next, as I prepared to leave (Janette has spent all day w/ Hannah & will be her night companion tonight - major trooper!), Hannah, still without looking from the tv, said, "Bye bye."  Not sadly.  Kind of absently.  Still pretty cute.

Hope she and Janette manage to sleep tonight & come home as scheduled tomorrow.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 09:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

A quick "thank you!" to Barbara over at TherExtras for giving us a head's-up that our site content was down.  That's what we get for not posting for awhile! 

In case you missed it, Barbara put up a great blog carnival a bit ago.  Barbara has connected up with a number of families that share common experiences with ours.  I enjoy reading her blog and hope you will, too.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 03:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Janette and I were taking a post-kids break, watching "Chuck."  Hannah was asleep in her room.  Gabriel was not.  He wandered into the family room.

"Shouldn't you guys be alseep?" he asked.  "Hannah is asleep.  I'm almost asleep...."

As Gabriel worked through his sleep-avoidance logic, I laughed.  Janette reminded him that we were adults.  We could stay up as long as we wanted, but would welcome the opportunity to go to sleep and enjoy eight or nine hours of bliss.

And then I encouraged him, again, to take advantage of this wonderful opportunity.

-- Dad 

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It seems it's my turn to be sick.  Hannah and Gabriel seem fine.  Janette feels a little wuzzy.  And I'm swimming in blankets on the couch.  I sneezed through Friday (at a new job I started on Wednesday - how's that for timing!) and shivered through Saturday.  Hoping tomorrow's better 'cause I've got work to do....

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 08:08 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

"Look!" Gabriel shouted, pointing at the t.v..  "Facebook!"

Some news story had referenced Facebook, thrown the logo on the screen, and Gabriel had instantly recognized it.  Yes, Gabriel often wanders into the office and sees Mom or Dad on Facebook (and LinkedIn for Dad).   Kind of not a surprise that he recognized that particular logo.

Yes, we've been inundated with 25 Random Things and 25 Top Albums, people contacting us from high school (many of whom we were happy to reconnect with), and the like.  It's been a fun way to spend the sleepier hours when a full blog seems too daunting, but a quick one sentence status update works just fine.

So, should readers of our blog be bitten by similar social networking bug, feel free to pop us an email via the blog at rbach@kintropy.com, and we'll be happy to Friend you out in the social networking world.  We'll continue to blog, of course, but for a quick keep-in-touch, you'll also see us on Facebook from time to time.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 07:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Out is the magic word.  One learns not to utter it until plans, supplies, and shoes are in place.  Otherwise, Hannah's limited patience is sorely tested.

Even on a relaxed daughter-dad Sunday, this rule still applies.   This morning, Hannah and I both took it slowly.  We enjoyed some music together, I phoned my brother, and I prepared Hannah's travel bag:  diapers, clothes, g-tube/food supplies, and her DVD player.

Typically, we end up at the mall.  Hannah enjoys the architecture, particularly the high ceilings and skylights.  She likes the rush of people walking around, and she sometimes greets several with a passing, "Hi."  Generally, I can come up with reasons to shop (not too hard).  Plus, this time of year, rain is the rule, and indoors with Hannah are much less wet.

Still, we're trying to be frugal much like everyone else, and today I wondered at the repetition.  It must get boring for her, just going to the mall, and how would I know?  How would Hannah communicate that to me beyond a general tantrum? 

After we got in the car, I changed plans.  Not the mall today.  Today we were headed for our local Panera. 

We arrived a few minutes later.  As I popped Hannah out of the car and into her wheelchair, I watched her stare at me, waiting.

"We're doing something different today," I said.  I grabbed her DVD bag.  "We're going to have an early soup lunch together."

We rolled inside.  Hannah was surprisingly patient while I ordered.  She looked around the countertop at the baked breads and pastries.  While I ordered us up some french onion soup and a coffee (that would be for me and me alone), she craned her neck to see the people lining up behind us.

"Extra spoons, please," I asked the gentleman ringing us up.  He walked back to the kitchen to pass along the request as we found our seats.

We had a nice window seat looking out over a drizzle coated patio and the main street.  We were experiencing what we in the Pacific Northwest call a "sunbreak," so Hannah and I could look out at a nice patch of light blue sky.

I broke out the DVD player:  the necessary equipment when we sit down to eat.  I queued up a music DVD (stuff I taped off Noggin a year or two back), and I picked up our soup.  Together, Hannah and I enjoyed the view, the music (quietly), and our french onion soup.  I raised the spoon to her mouth for the first few tastes.  She quickly grabbed the spoon from me and popped it back into her mouth.

And there we sat, enjoying our soup, our sunbreak, our music, and a late, lazy Sunday morning together somewhere other than the mall.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 05:34 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Just a bit of proof that Hannah heartily enjoyed her cupcake at her 5th birthday celebration last week.  The official party is still a week off (one can't rush these things), but she definitely knows how to jump in and enjoy herself.

She and Gabriel are asleep at the moment.  Hannah managed a marathon day (3am - 9pm) without a nap - no idea how she made that work.  Of course, now she's really tired.  We'll see if that translates into a restful or restless night.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 10:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Hannah turned five years' old today.  I think her favorite part was that everywhere she turned, someone was singing "Happy Birthday" to her.  She basked in the attention, of course, and clapped for more.

Pictures to come, I'm sure.  For a very special gift, I was able to find a used, but well cared for, Fisher Price Babbling Bee (her fourth!).  After some use and abuse, the Bees lose their voice & stop singing & then stop talking.  It's a sad, sad day when that happens (though Hannah is quite willing to see beyond this "disability" and chew on the Bees anyway).  But now we have a talking & singing Bee again.  She giggled, batted it again to get it singing, and giggled again - the cutest thing.

Take care, all.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 08:20 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

Just a follow-on from Janette's entry.

The principal explained that Gabriel had, along with five other boys, gotten a referral from the bus driver.  "These always come in a set," he said ruefully.

As we connected the dots, we learned that Gabriel had been teased on the bus.  He stood up, crying, to collect his things which had been scattered about.  Of course, he should have been seated for safety reasons, but kind of got caught in the Shotgun of Discipline, I think.

Our standing rule is a principal's office visit is an automatic grounding, and we followed through, explaining the safety concern (a bit half-heartedly on my part).  Gabriel has made the Walk of Shame three times this year.  Of those three, I only agree with one (hijinks in the bathroom, standing on sinks on a dare).  The other two seemed like minor infractions & explainable things, but we did our best to be consistent in working with the school to address the underlying idea (e.g. don't disrupt class, be safe on the bus).

But don't worry.  Mr. G is not scarred by this experience.

"Dad, know what?  My friend T. has two referrals.  I have three.  If he gets one more, he'll have the same as me!"

"Gabriel, this isn't a contest!"

"I know.  Just saying...."

Anyone betting on a fourth trip to the principal's office?

Of course, Hannah will have some shoes to fill, but she strikes me as more the rebellious type.  I imagine she'll have no problems matching Gabriel visit-for-visit when the time comes :-).

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 10:59 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Hannah tried to nap this evening.  She began in the family room around 5pm, but tossed, turned, and cried her way to her own bedroom.  Usually, her bedroom soothes her:  music, DVDs, bed, comfort.

Tonight, she was far from comforted, though.  The intermittent sobbing brought Janette in and out of the office where she and I were tapping away at our PCs.  Finally, she woke Hannah, and the sobbing stopped, but Hannah still seemed out of sorts.

I walked in to Hannah's room.  She was lying on her side, just listening to the tv.  I wiped her runny nose (hmmm, problem identified - getting sick), picked her up, sat her on my knee in the office, and got the Magic PC to sing Beatles songs to her while I sang along.

"Hannah, more la-las?" I asked.

"Good!" she confirmed.

We sang a few songs (she particularly liked Elanor Rigby - I'm convinced one day, she'll be all gothed out as a teenager), each ended with a request for more la-las.  Finally, Janette traded back with me, and we both prepared for our nighttime rituals:  Janette with Hannah's bedtime; me, with Gabriel's.

***

I've been long absent on blogging, but here are a few grainy phone photos from our recent Saturday out at a Kids Expo downtown and a dinner picnic in Hannah's room to bring you back up to speed.  On Saturday, both kids were feeling well, though you can see the blur of Hannah found the big, yellow, square Wow Wow Wubsy a bit overstimulating!

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 10:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

Granted, both Gabriel and Hannah were avoiding going to sleep, but I just had to smile.

"Hannah!" Gabriel peeked into her room.  His room is a few, kitty-corner steps away.  "Did you want a big brother hug?"

My head was still stuck in work mode from weekend laptop projects, but I took a break for this moment.  I hovered nearby, admiring both the sneaky conspiracy against bedtime and the loving offer.  Gabriel walked a few paces into Hannah room.  She smiled back at him.

As Gabriel grabbed her bed's handrail and awkwardly swung a foot over to climb in next to her, Hannah kept beaming, holding her arms out to greet him and/or request a pickup from him.

"Aw, you want a hug?  Here's a big brother hug."

And they hugged.  Hannah's hugs can be less-than-gentle, but they both managed to trade hugs and hair grabs without any pemanent injury.  I stepped quietly away from my position nearby and walked back to the kitchen.  

Gabriel and Hannah's bedtime rituals could pause for this moment.  That seemed ok to me.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 10:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (0)

"Hey!  We're supposed to be Garden Gnomes!  See any gardens?"

"Yeah, we we're up to our eyeballs in snow until that kid rescued us."

"Weird.  Remember when we were born in the Old Country?  That 'just north of California' line really sold us on the climate.  What happened?"

"Don't know.  But look around - the snow is everywhere!"

"Mmmmph."

"What'd you say?"

"Mmmmph."

"Oh, great, another couple of inches.  I hope that little boy and his sister come out to rescue us again - ssssooooooon!"

-- The Garden Gnomes 

Posted by Dad at 04:06 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) | TrackBacks (0)

Reading the papers and watching the news runs its risks.  The job losses, foreclosures, and financial trends are staggering.  So far, we've kept our jobs, health insurance, and like things, but even I, ever budget-resistant, am pulling back here and there.  Granted, I did go a little crazy at our synagague's Hannukah Faire today, but the splurges are more limited.  We're looking at ditching our last credit card.  We're staying in more & playing games rather than go to the mall (not a bad thing altogether).  Things are changing on the home front some.

My bigger concern is next school year:  when Hannah started kindergarten.  I've heard all the excuses parents have encountered for not fully supporting children with disabilities with special education services, and I'm wondering how bad things will be financially when Hannah makes her way to public school.

Kind of random thoughts tonight, but trying to get back on the writing wagon....

Hope our readers are doing well on holding things together until the financial world totters back on to its axis.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 09:27 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

I am the human clock.  During the week, my alarm clock bleeps at 6:15 am.  If I'm really good, I get up at first bleep; if not, I snooze-bleep-snooze. 

Shortly thereafter, I'm routing Gabriel from bed.  "It's time to wake up.  Quickly!  Let's go.  Gotta shower & get ready for school!"

In parallel, albiet slightly later, Janette or one of our nurses is repeating the process with Hannah across the hall.  "C'mon, Hannah.  Got school today.  Singing class - yeah!  C'mon.  No, let's wake up."

Throughout the day, Janette and I continue to play the clocks.  For Gabriel, that's enough game time, you need to wait five minutes, it's bed time.  For Hannah, hold it together for another few minutes, you've been on the potty for twenty minutes, Hannah, and it's bed time (no, really, it's bed time).

The one clock I'm really bad at running is my own.  My work self has been very busy, turning in almost all projects on time thanks to a great teammate & lots of homework.  My personal self, though, really stinks at the time thing:  no time to blog, a little time to relax, and not enough time with the family.

My little apology for not writing more.  Will try to improve right after I get this project done... and then this one .

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 11:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

So the title refers to the movie, not a command.  We just had an impromptu movie night.  Hannah, usually quite busy with her toys, gave the slapstick moments her full attention, laughing loudly whenever someone yelped in pain.  Gabriel giggled with her in unison.

Yes, we glossed over the more inappropriate moments, but it was fun to watch both kids drinking in the physical humor.  Maybe they're ready for the Three Stooges, Looney Tunes, and Chaplin (yes, I can say all those in the same sentence).

Meanwhile... Dad is on "vacation."  Usually, we take hospital vacation (i.e. timed to match Hannah going in for procedures).  This time, I actually took a week off with no plans, eh, initially.  I've managed to fill the time up productively, though, with some cool volunteer & committee work.  Yeah, it's not quite a break, but it's great to get out and do things in the community without having to pop back into work for half-day, etc..  Here are some of the things we've done so far:

• Took Janette & the kids out to George Fox University as part of a panel discussing in home health care to soon-to-graduate nursing students.  Along with two other self-advocates & one other family, we discussed the value of in home nursing & hopefully got some folks thinking about that line of work.
• Jumped over to Salem, our capitol, to give testimony on the MFCU program Hannah (currently) particpates in.  Hannah will graduate from the program soon, but both Janette and I wanted to make sure folks setting the rules knew how successful the program could be via Hannah. 
  
• Janette, Gabriel, and Hannah also got my penny tour of the Capitol Building.  Gabriel's main comment:  "kind of scary" (out of session & quite empty).  He also liked the big t.v. - go figure.  Hannah loved the high ceilings & alternated well between her DVD player & me speaking when we took the opportunity to talk with the MFCU Rules Committee.
  
• Medicaid Advisory Committee today.

Tomorrow, we're all taking a break (I think).  Janette and I get three hours to ourselves in the morning (hear the angels singing?).  Auntie OK spontaneously invited us out to a Blazers basketball game later tomorrow night, so Gabriel and I will enjoy our first professional basketball game together.  Hannah has school provided her cold doesn't progress much further....

Busy, busy - can't seem to do the slow down & relax vacations, but there you go.

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 08:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) | TrackBacks (1)

"Ask Gabriel about S," Janette prompted me.  She and the kids had picked me up from work, and Janette was driving us home.

"Gabriel, Mom says to ask you about S."  I knew S. was a classmate of Gabriel's.  He had mentioned her a few times, and she had given him a note.  With pictures.  And an "I like you" message on it.

"We're dating," Gabriel said.

"Ah, okay," I replied, processing.  "What do you mean by dating?  Is she you're girlfriend?"

"Well, we went on a date at school, during recess."

Hannah chimed in, complaining that the car had stopped to comply with the red light.  She sat next to Gabriel, "All done.  All done.  Go."

"Hold on, Hannah," I asked.  "Maybe we should have S. over for a playdate," I suggested. 

Gabriel and I worked on the logistics:  who should call whom.  Hannah kicked her feet, willing the car to break free of the red light.  Janette glanced at me, looking for a reaction to Gabriel's assertion that he is now dating.

I really could wait longer for this whole phase to start.  Really & truly.  As Gabriel explained his date, I think it seemed an innocent enough way for him to describe playing with a friend who happens to be a girl.  I wonder if this is how it usually starts.  What ever happened to cooties?

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 09:05 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Posted by Dad at 09:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (2) | TrackBacks (0)

Tomorrow is Nov 4, and here in the US, it is time to vote!

Two things I'll encourage every eligible US voter to do:  1) vote tomorrow and 2) think of one thing you'll do to contribute to your community AFTER the election is over. 

Given the financial, military, social, and other conditions of our nation and our world, we cannot afford to simply cast our ballot, judge the outcome, and walk away.  Each of us can make at least one contribution, even a small one, to our community.  Some ideas:

1)  Attend one school board or local city meeting.

2)  Write a letter to the editor.

3)  Introduce your children to a local community leader and ask the leader to explain his/her job.

4)  Check in with a non-profit & donate your time, energy, and interest as you are able

5)  Visit a retirement community & see if you can help or just chat up some of the residents if they're interested

6)  Talk to your neighbors & get to know them

7)  Offer to help out a friend/neighbor that needs some extra help

8)  Read up on the issues, develop an opinion, and discuss (often ;-)

I'm sure there are tons more - feel free to leave more ideas in comments if you have them. 

This year, I'd like to get involved in the local school board.  Gabriel is already in the public elementary school, and Hannah is headed there next year.  For both selfish and I hope selfless reasons, involvement in the school board makes sense.  I'll also continue my work on the Medicaid Advisory Committee and like groups.

What do you think?  How can you contribute?  How can we show our kids how to get involved?  Doesn't have to be Herculean.  I truly think if everyone pitches in a little bit, we can improve our communities and realize some of the changes we've been talking about throughout this long election season.

And don't forget to vote!

-- Dad 

Posted by Dad at 09:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (3) | TrackBacks (0)

I grew up reading Ray Bradbury and Edgar Allen Poe.  My overactive imagination bred monsters in shadows and kept me awake at night.  I loved and trembled at scary radio plays.  Suffice to say, Halloween is my kind of holiday.

The kids, either of their own interest or mirrors of mine (or maybe it's the candy), seem to love it as well.  Both kids sopped up recent Halloween happenings with me.

Saturday, Hannah and I headed out (way out) into rural Hillsboro to attend a Halloween party:  her first party invite from a friend at school.  We dressed her as a punk-pop princess.  Multicolored ribbons sparkled in her hair, brushing at her black t-shirt.  Janette even bought her a checkered mini-skirt to complete the ensemble.

We arrived painfully early at the party, and we were the first and only ones there for awhile.  On top of everything else, we could only stay for about a half-hour before running back to Hillsboro city limits to pick up Gabriel and Janette from an overlapping birthday party.

Still, Hannah and I made the most of it.  The house, of course, had plentiful stairs, so Hannah and I abandoned her wheelchair early.  For the better part of a half-hour, I carried her around the house, visiting rooms with spooky house miniatures, animatronic skeletons, and like decorations.  When her friends showed up, we greeted them, but departed soon after.  Hannah, however, beamed with all the attention and activity.  As I flexed my sore muscles, she smiled and laughed.  We loaded ourselves back in the car for the long trip back into our city.

Sunday, it was Gabriel's turn.  He, my sister, and I headed out to Shocktober:  a Halloween themed celebration at the local fairgrounds.  This event used to be called Frightlites, and it used to be filled with kid appropriate activities and games.  Each year, though, they've been moving the ticket prices up and the theming toward more adult scares.   Although he enjoyed the glow-in-the-dark miniature golf and tube/hay slide, Gabriel shunned the supposedly all-ages haunted crypts nearby.  Maybe it was the screams coming from inside or the sound of a buzzing chainsaw from the adult-only haunt attraction nearby. 

Gabriel did earn an elephant ear (a flat, fried doughnut w/ sugar sprinkled all over), and we had fun watching my sister go off to try the adult haunts.  She came back hoarse from screaming.  Still, this was probably the last year we'll go:  the kid-friendly attractions and leisurely walk from prior years are gone, and it doesn't look like they're coming back.

In the end, we found our best scare in a Disney "Scary Stories" book.  I read Gabriel one of my favorite scary stories:  a Disney version of the Sleepy Hollow/Headless Horseman story.  Gabriel looked on as I read the story, moving from whisper to tense tone and words.  He flipped ahead a little bit as I read one page, checking the pictures for indications on where this was all going.

At the end of the story, which allowed for the possibility that Ichabod had run off to places unknown rather than falling prey to the Headless Horseman, I asked Gabriel what he thought.  He quickly requested another story, maybe one with a happy ending.

Maybe Poe and others will wait a little longer.

-- Dad

Posted by Dad at 08:33 PM | Permalink | Comments (4) | TrackBacks (0)

I returned from a business trip to Shanghai, China last Friday.  Walking on one-hour-airplane-sleep fumes, I managed to find the customs line with the help of a fellow traveler from work.  Soon after, I popped out into PDX where I was greeting by Janette, Gabriel, Hannah, and my dad.

Gabriel ran up to me, laughing, a play mustache hanging from his lip.  "Ah, hi, recognize me?" he managed between giggles.  We hugged.

Hannah sat in her wheelchair, taking in the scene nearby with dazed, I'm-up-too-early red eyes.  I took a few steps forward and embraced her.  She grabbed my head absently, and I stepped back.

"Hi, Hannah."

Janette got a brief hug, I think (sorry, ho