What's the return policy?
Showing posts with label Chris. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Chris. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Friday, June 17, 2011
The Kings Of Rock
On the first day of summer, our family changed dramatically. The greatest blessing with our early summer addition is that we now have the next couple of months to create, experience, and celebrate moments together...moments of wicked awesomeness like these...
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Fun Run?
In theory, it is supposed to be fun for the participating kids. If this simple concept was not true, then the weekly event would not be monikered, "Fun Run for Kids." Although, looking back, maybe it is fun for the kids. Perhaps there is nothing but truth in the event's name. No where in the name of the event is a designation for a subtitle, "Anxiety for Parents." Although, this addition would be applicable - at least for this parent.
The weekly event is held at a local high school's track, and is hosted by the local running club. The supposed idea is to get young kids (from ages one to whatever) out on the track and running - in designated age groups, e.g. 1-2 year olds, 3 year olds, and so forth. Each group has an opportunity to go on the track and run a lap (or half a lap for the youngest group). The idea seems harmless enough, and on a beautiful early Friday evening, it seemed like a good idea. My boys like being outdoors. They love to run (especially indoors and at other inconvenient moments) - so why not combine these two elements? It seems like a simple math equation that should equal success!
When we arrived I was amazed at the sheer number of people...and the racing tags. Racing tags! You only get one tag for one side of the body, which is good, since the tags were practically wrap-arounds for my boys. I couldn't imagine why we were getting these, although, a thought ran through my head, "Next time, dress the boys alike, have one start the race and hide near the 200 meter mark. When Joseph gets there, have him roll off of the track and have Jameson pop up and finish!" I could see my self in the winner's circle, wearing gold chains and holding a cigar, "What!? #5913 wasn't my runner, it was #5914! Do you see a difference!?"
After daydreaming, I then watched the younger age group run (the 1-2 year old group) and chuckled as parents (mostly dads) chased after their kids - in all directions - around the track. Of course, these were the lucky ones as others were stuck carrying their suddenly immobile kid. Was I worried? Naaaaa...I have seen my boys run for hours,* and Lord knows when I need them to do something they suddenly find an extra gear of speed when running in the other direction. What's the worse that could happen? They need to walk? So be it. I might need to walk, too, and at least I will then have an excuse.
Our first problem was that we didn't get to the starting line on time. I got confused as the moment neared, and before I realized what had happened, I saw a lot of anxious three year olds and their parents (dads) taking off on the track. I grabbed Joseph and Jameson and weaved through the mass of sweaty, exhausted runners finishing from the first group (those were just the parents) and managed to catch up to the back of the pack. "Here we go, " I thought as I let go of the boys' hands, anticipating a blur of color as each boy took off by me. Here is what happened:
100 meters in the run, already far behind the field (because of me), and down goes a boy. I helped him up, like any caring, nurturing parent would, "You okay? Great! Let's go catch those people!" and held my breath. Both boys were back to their winning form until I heard the one word that could turn this "Fun" run into a "Done" run..."Mommy?"
The quivering tone told me everything I needed to know as I turned around and saw Joseph - no longer running - but standing 250 meters (more than half a lap) away from the finish line (and Mommy). "No big deal," I thought as I went over and picked him up, "I can carry him a little bit and reason with him that the faster he gets to the finish, the faster he can see his mother's beautiful face. We can do this."
"Mommy?!" This more panicked voice did not come from the boy in my arms. I turned around to see my other son - also no longer running - now standing 240 meters (still more than half a lap) away from the finish line (and Mommy). We stood in silence, Jameson's puppy dog eyes staring at my dumb-struck face, while Joseph, in my arms, pointed out the really tall lights in the stadium.
Katie, a spectator to all of this (240 meters away), recalls this moment - with a little too much pleasure, for my taste - by saying there was a moment where I looked like I was going to take the boys and cut through the football field to the finish. I assure you, there was a moment within this situation where I planned on cutting through the football field to the finish, but I refuse to say whether or not I was planning on bringing the boys with me.
None the less, I managed to coerce the boys to continue around the track - I am pretty sure I promised both of them soda, staying up until midnight, cell phones, and me doing their homework for their first 8 years of schooling.
All in all, there was sweat, tears, and a little scrapping of a knee at this event. Isn't that all you could ask for from a competitor in the "Fun Run for Kids?" Now, about changing that name...
The weekly event is held at a local high school's track, and is hosted by the local running club. The supposed idea is to get young kids (from ages one to whatever) out on the track and running - in designated age groups, e.g. 1-2 year olds, 3 year olds, and so forth. Each group has an opportunity to go on the track and run a lap (or half a lap for the youngest group). The idea seems harmless enough, and on a beautiful early Friday evening, it seemed like a good idea. My boys like being outdoors. They love to run (especially indoors and at other inconvenient moments) - so why not combine these two elements? It seems like a simple math equation that should equal success!
When we arrived I was amazed at the sheer number of people...and the racing tags. Racing tags! You only get one tag for one side of the body, which is good, since the tags were practically wrap-arounds for my boys. I couldn't imagine why we were getting these, although, a thought ran through my head, "Next time, dress the boys alike, have one start the race and hide near the 200 meter mark. When Joseph gets there, have him roll off of the track and have Jameson pop up and finish!" I could see my self in the winner's circle, wearing gold chains and holding a cigar, "What!? #5913 wasn't my runner, it was #5914! Do you see a difference!?"
After daydreaming, I then watched the younger age group run (the 1-2 year old group) and chuckled as parents (mostly dads) chased after their kids - in all directions - around the track. Of course, these were the lucky ones as others were stuck carrying their suddenly immobile kid. Was I worried? Naaaaa...I have seen my boys run for hours,* and Lord knows when I need them to do something they suddenly find an extra gear of speed when running in the other direction. What's the worse that could happen? They need to walk? So be it. I might need to walk, too, and at least I will then have an excuse.
Our first problem was that we didn't get to the starting line on time. I got confused as the moment neared, and before I realized what had happened, I saw a lot of anxious three year olds and their parents (dads) taking off on the track. I grabbed Joseph and Jameson and weaved through the mass of sweaty, exhausted runners finishing from the first group (those were just the parents) and managed to catch up to the back of the pack. "Here we go, " I thought as I let go of the boys' hands, anticipating a blur of color as each boy took off by me. Here is what happened:
100 meters in the run, already far behind the field (because of me), and down goes a boy. I helped him up, like any caring, nurturing parent would, "You okay? Great! Let's go catch those people!" and held my breath. Both boys were back to their winning form until I heard the one word that could turn this "Fun" run into a "Done" run..."Mommy?"
The quivering tone told me everything I needed to know as I turned around and saw Joseph - no longer running - but standing 250 meters (more than half a lap) away from the finish line (and Mommy). "No big deal," I thought as I went over and picked him up, "I can carry him a little bit and reason with him that the faster he gets to the finish, the faster he can see his mother's beautiful face. We can do this."
"Mommy?!" This more panicked voice did not come from the boy in my arms. I turned around to see my other son - also no longer running - now standing 240 meters (still more than half a lap) away from the finish line (and Mommy). We stood in silence, Jameson's puppy dog eyes staring at my dumb-struck face, while Joseph, in my arms, pointed out the really tall lights in the stadium.
Katie, a spectator to all of this (240 meters away), recalls this moment - with a little too much pleasure, for my taste - by saying there was a moment where I looked like I was going to take the boys and cut through the football field to the finish. I assure you, there was a moment within this situation where I planned on cutting through the football field to the finish, but I refuse to say whether or not I was planning on bringing the boys with me.
None the less, I managed to coerce the boys to continue around the track - I am pretty sure I promised both of them soda, staying up until midnight, cell phones, and me doing their homework for their first 8 years of schooling.
All in all, there was sweat, tears, and a little scrapping of a knee at this event. Isn't that all you could ask for from a competitor in the "Fun Run for Kids?" Now, about changing that name...
 |
| All that for a ribbon? |
Monday, April 11, 2011
Bernie Loves Maripat
Please pray for the soul of my Aunt Maripat. Maripat, your courage and strength, humor and warmth, along with your passion for Cleveland sports (and a certain former Browns quarterback) are forever impressed in my heart and my memories.
"...May God enfold you in the mantle of His love."
Thursday, January 22, 2009
The Family That Plays Together...Shares Germs.
Joseph and Jameson make me laugh. Katie is my rock. My job? Lately, it is to make everyone sick.Last Sunday, I noticed myself sniffling and sneezing more than I would have liked. Monday brought more tissues, but Tuesday was the worst with a sinus headache. I hate getting sick. Surprisingly today, Thursday, I feel a whole lot better.
But the damage has been done.
Jameson has spent the past two days coughing and sneezing. Joseph seems to just be developing this amazing ability. Katie, so far, seems immune to it all with her superpowers. Luckily, there are no temperatures or wheezing. However, it just breaks your heart to hear them coughing at night...especially when you feel partially responsible for bringing the germs to them.
I've decided that instead of walking around with the guilt of possibly making my boys sick, I have compiled a list of other things I want to blame for the boys' getting their colds (no remedy better than "passing the buck"):
- Global warming
- The price of gas
- The economy
- Rod Blagojevich
- Peanut butter
- Rock music
- That "5 Dollar Foot-Long" Subway song
Friday, January 16, 2009
Too Cool For School
I haven't worked in three days. Thanks to an early morning snow fall Wednesday, and - 30 degree wind chills on Thursday and Friday, I have been home doing a whole lot of nothing lately. Well, almost nothing. My car battery died yesterday, so I had to go buy a new one and replace it. I have also been slowly working on some readings for my graduate class that I started last Tuesday - "Curriculum Development in Art Education." And of course, I have been bugging Katie with the rest of my free time. I know, I know, some of you are thinking, "Wait, Chris, doesn't that mean you have to go to school later at the end of the year?" To this way of thinking I respond, "Who cares!? That is like 100 months away! Shhhhh...I can't hear my video game."
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