Family picnic

This is the first thing we saw when we got to the place where we planned the family picnic. A big, slow-moving, large-clawed dinosaur.

The picnic was at Buffalo's Forest Lawn Cemetery, a totally cool place with incredible amounts of history. The 13th President of the US is buried here, and as I pointed out to Rhona, with 38 dead Presidents, having one is dead cool.

But back to the cute things that aren't crusty old or dead creatures. We also saw some baby geese, called goslings. Autumn was thrilled to see the little babies. And so was Rhona. She took a bunch of pictures of the little geese.

The actual picnic was great. Rhona threw together food for us all. We dropped a blanket on the grass, and dug in. Some dug in a little more than others. Especially Gavin.


But across the board, this gave us the chance to be outside as a family. To run around, laugh, see fun things, and take great pictures. Gavin liked being outside, but Autumn loved it. Maybe because she's becoming such a little girl.

Autumn bowling

Autumn went bowling. Part of me can't beleive that she went bowling before she went curling, but I'll live.

Anyway, here's the link to all the shots.

Next winter, curling.

Romeo 1994-2009

From the moment he met me, I was sure he hated me. He was seven, and for all seven years of his life, it was him and Rhona. He was her Romeo. So you can imagine how that went.

Indeed, after we got married, he would hide around a corner, waiting for me to walk into the room. Then he would pounce. He was 14 lbs, but I know he thought he could take me.

He eventually did warm up to me. We played to together a lot, and eventually he would even come when I called (now, he would come whenever I call).

I used to tell him that cats all over the world would be embarrassed for him because he acted like a dog. What cat do you know that would come when you called? Play fetch? He would even pant like a dog after playing.

He liked to get his own way. The first night that we took possession of our new house, we brought him, of course. We didn't have a speck of furniture in it, but we wanted to sleep in it. Romeo ran around the house, then sat at the bottom of our sleeping bag and howled. Rhona suggested we go home, I suggested we stick him in the basement.

We went back to the old apartment and slept. He didn't sleep here till we got the bed here.

He thrived in the new house. We would run around our living room, chasing each other. He would sit on the window sills and watch the people. He would hang out in our courtyard. Him and I got really close. Each night, he would come and lay on my chest and stare at me. His head would be about two inches from my face -- a distance he picked. God forbid I try to get closer, he would run away.

Romeo gave you the space he wanted to give, not the space you wanted.

Those nights that he laid on my chest, he would size me up. He would look at me like he wished he was bigger and could just eat me.

The day we got Lucy was probably Romeo's second worst day (the first being the day we got me). Lucy was Romeo's size, but that would obviously change fast. Like me, Romeo put Lucy through some welcoming initiations. He would hide around a corner and pounce on Lucy when she walked by. Lucy got the point where she would run out of the room is Romeo ambled in. And you could hear Romeo from a mile away. He didn't get the sneak gene that cats get. If he got up in the middle of the night, you could hear the little rat, tat, tat of his paws on the wood floors.

To his credit, he never put either kid through an initiation. Not because he couldn't, because he knew there was a difference. Autumn was able to grab his tail, grab his fur, and he let her. To put that into perspective, in my early years with Romes, if I grabbed his tail he would turn on me in an instant.

Romeo was, and will always be the first pet I was responsible for. He was Rhona's cat, but he was my first pet that wasn't my parent's. He immediately became my cat, and eventually my friend. I remember one time that I took him to the vet.

He didn't like the vet.

They needed three handlers with gloves to examine him. He screamed and fought while they did their thing, and when they finished, one of the handlers asked me if I had something to carry him in. I told them no, and pick him up. Even all worked up, he relaxed in my arms.

We were buds. And we had a lot of fun together over these last 7 years, and I am grateful that he came as part of the package.

Romeo. Scromes. Little buddy. This is getting harder to write, but I just want to say that I'll never forget you. You were my little cat that acted like a little dog.

Thanks for all the fun. I'm thankful that the kids aren't really old enough to understand what is going on. I told Autumn that Romeo was really sick, and she kissed him. Earlier today, while I was sitting in the bed with Romeo, Lucy jumped up and gave him a kiss. A goodbye kiss.

As I write this, Rhona has taken Romeo to the vet, where they will ensure that he goes to sleep peacefully. He's 7 lbs, and the last month has been tough. His a little fighter, but the cancer in his is winning. His last meal was uncooked shrimp. His favorite, but you could tell is was hard to force down.

Romeo, you lived a good life. Had a good time. Now rest in peace little buddy. And we'll miss you like crazy.

Some shots from Rhona

Some shots my wife took. At some point, things like this will be for sale.

Worst. Night. Ever

You don't expect a lot of sleep with a 2.2 year old and a 0.3 year old. In fact, you expect .5 less sleep than before.

But the 0.3 year old is usually to blame. Meet Autumn.

Last night, for whatever reason, she decided to not sleep from about 3:00AM on. Lately, when it's bed time, she says:

"Rub my back"

I have to rub her back for a little bit after stories, then I leave. Sometimes she cries a little, and when I go in an ask what's wrong she responds:

"Nothing"

She waits a beat, then says:

"Rub my back"

This is very new. They apparently rub her back at school for her afternoon nap. And thus, this activity has come home to roost, as they say. Last night, I rubbed her back. Which was a bad idea. Because at around 1:00AM, she woke up again with the same basic request.

Her: "Where's my binky?"
Me: "Right here."
Her: "Oh. Rub my back"

You could see that one coming a mile away. but I told her to close her eyes, go to sleep, and that I would see her in the morning. Unfortunately, I saw her again at 3:00AM. This time, she was really crying and wouldn't take no for answer.

Tired, I did what I thought was right at the time. I took her to our bed. When you're tired, it's hard to think rationally. I just wanted sleep. But as soon as she got in our bed, she realized B. Gavin was in the room, and thus announced that she wanted to "kiss 'im".

Now, you should know that when Autumn kisses B. Gavin, she kind of leans into him throwing her 23 pounds onto him, which is pretty significant for a little 13 pounder. Thus, he starts crying.

Anyway, the night ended with Autumn and Rhona sleeping in the spare bedroom whilst B. Gavin and I slept in the bed. And by slept I mean didn't.

Hence, worst night ever.

In the time of lack of sleep

Yes, it's true, we don't sleep much.

Our little Gavin is 5 weeks old today, and shows no real sign of sleeping soon. Autumn wakes up at some point in the night on a fairly regular basis and complains about something.

And Lucy.

Lucy has something going on that isn't fleas, but makes her scratch herself all the time. All friggin' night long. Scratch. Friggin' Scratch.

Oh, and to complete the list, Romeo the cat has decided to up his prolific output of pissing on everything. Perhaps this is the manner that he draws the line in the sand saying enough adding people and pets to this household that used to just be me and the woman that takes baths.

But, he's now taken to peeing on pillows on the bed.

As you can imagine, we're on edge. But, they tell me, this is normal. We don't get much sleep, pets react different to new people in their territory, we wake up on edge and sometimes get in each others grill over something as silly as how the dishwasher got unplugged.

But we're doing good. Really. We have a wonderful family. We have a nice little house in a nice little neighborhood. And, there are things like this on the Internet to give one perspective.

It's called Eat the Strawberry. What it means to me is "Hug my wife".

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Ah sleep

How I miss thee. For close to a full year, I've enjoyed you, uninterrupted. Sure, there was a time, a few weeks before Gavin, where Autumn acted up and didn't sleep.

But that passed. And it was a blip on an otherwise good year full of sleep. With the little dude, the sleep party is over.

This, of course, isn't news. We had rough nights with Autumn, so we knew there would be every night like this. Still, the sudden and complete end of uninterrupted sleep is now taking it's toll.

worse still, dad spent 5 hours in a car yesterday driving to and fro Syracuse. And tomorrow, I'll spend 5 hours in a place flying to Charlotte and back.

Gonna be a long week.

On a separate note, you might also note the little widget on the left hand side of this blog that counts down Autumn's birthday. If you would like to add a birthday wish to Autumn, you can do so in the comments on Saturday, or you can send me something and I'll post it to her for her. It's up to you.

Why waiting sucks

Each morning, you think this is the day. And at the end of the day, there's a palpable sense of disappointment. It's not something we want to be with the little fella. We know that he'll come out when he's good and ready (or when we're good and ready to start the process on his behalf).

But still. When countless people tell you that the second one always comes early, even being on time feels late. So late feels otherworldly late.

For about a week now (almost mirroring the lateness), Autumn hasn't been sleeping well. When we put her down, she's taken to throwing everything out of her crib, and then crying for the very things she tossed out of her crib.

Pillow goes to the floor, and seconds later, she's crying for her pillow. So, on Monday night I asked her what was up. She cried: "Baby coming."

Now, you can take that one of two ways.

The first, she's pissed off that a baby is coming. She's acting out to get attention because the baby is coming to knock her off the only child pedestal. And that just might be the right answer to the nightly kerfuffle.

But there's another way to look at things (hint, there always is another way to look at things).

Autumn doesn't often use words like when, where, what. Sure, she says things like "Wha dat?", and "Where Mommy?". But what is she was actually saying "Baby coming?" as in,
"when's baby coming?"

She's a clever girl. And I think she can sense the impatience of her mommy and daddy. And that impatience is leading to frustration (at times). And perhaps she's then feeding off the frustration we're experiencing. She doesn't know how to verbalize this frustration, so she uses the action she has come to associate this feeling: namely, tossing things.

When thought of this way, we're a complete unit waiting on a little boy. Buddy, we can't wait to meet ya.

Matt's an American!!!

Next time you eat apple pie, think of me.



If you read this blog, I'm somewhat of a political junkie. so i did this to vote. Now I can. And while this wasn't as big a deal for me as it was for someone from, say Bosnia (there were two people there from Bosnia), it's still a big deal. Autumn and Rhona came with me. I can vote. And I will vote. In everything -- school board meetings, here I come.

Mom's day, grad weekend

This weekend was all about mom. First, mom got hooded, and grabbed her master's degree from Buffalo State university. She is, and forever will be, a master. We celebrated with dinner at her favorite restaurant where she got her favorite meal


Second, it was mom's day. Dad (that's me), fired up a brunch of epic proportions, as nanny and granddad were here for the previous day's master's ceremony and dinner. It was a great week.

So give mom a hearty congrats. She's a master mom.


Congrats mom.

Thanks Aunt Christina

This past weekend, aunt Christina (Autumn calls her aunt nina) spent the weekend at our house helping us peel wallpaper (never done that before), paint the little fellas room, and clean.

A good spring cleaning.

I'm thankful for her help. We could never have gotten what we got accomplished without her.

So thanks. We owe you more Cold Stone.

Autumn called

The ladies just called. Actually it was almost all Autumn. She called to tell me that she went poopy on the potty. Clearly, we're in full-on celebration mode when she goes. She also flushed.

When she flushes, she says "bye-bye poopy" and waves.

autumn and Rhona 2

Blogged with the Flock Browser

Autumn's out of daycare

If you're a parent, and you drop your kids off to day care, then you know the feeling. When I put her down and she runs to my leg crying "Daddy, daddy, daddy" my heart breaks, melts, whatever metaphor you need. I reach down, give her a hug and feel her grab me with all the strength she can muster in her little arms, and I look around.

She was at a new day care. The one everyone says is awesome. It's in the city and on the way to work. In the summer, Rhona could walk. The other idea is that we could meet other people, families, and make new friends.

So we signed up. Autumn doesn't know any of the above, she just knows that the place she used to go is new. All new people. So, when the hugs, and leg hugs, and cries come, we're handing her to people she barely knows. And that's hard for all of us.

But what happened next was simply bad luck. Her new teacher kept calling in sick. That really isn't the fault of the day care, but it's a cause for concern. We're trying to hand off a visibly upset Autumn to someone she can trust, and that someone kept changing. And since it was an unexpected absence, they weren't always quick to solve the issue.

So we pulled her. We asked for our money back, and took her out. At this moment in time, she is no longer in day-care. We have mixed feelings about that. but this is the next adventure for Rhona and Autumn.

meltdowns

The glaciers aren't the only things that are melting down: Autumn has some doozy meltdowns.

Last night it was just me and her. When mommy left, I got the normal, expected mommy meltdown.


"Mommy" she cries near the last door that mommy went out of. "Mommy". it comes out in gasps almost, in between cries. When I try to pick her up she does that dead weight thing that parent's understand. She manages to contort her body in such a way that does actually make her 21 pounds feel heavier.

One I do manage to pick her up, I have to guard against the flailing legs. She's just tall enough now that her flailing legs come perilously close to the boys.

I learned that one the hard way.

The only option on a meltdown is really just waiting it out. I can't console her. I can eventually redirect her (what's Lucy doing?), but that doesn't happen immediately.

What are your favorite meltdown ideas?

My wife, the photographer

Rhona's photographs are still being featured in the Artvoice photo contest. Here is her and Autumn at the opening.



Turn on your side:

Vacation suprises

On the plane


The first couple of days were a bit chilly.


It warmed up


Posing.


From the porch


In the pool


On the pirate ship. Yes, the pirate ship.


See, a pirate ship.


Thanks Granddad


Thanks Nanny


Bonus shot:

We had an awesome time in Florida.

A weekend of puking

This weekend didn't go smoothly. Take friday night. We put Autumn to bed at her normal time. Not long after, she wakes up crying. I go into her room to find vomit in her crib, and her in mid-vomit. I take some vomit-shrapnel in the shirt, and some goes on her carpet as I grab her and rush her to the tub.

The tub seems like the best and worst place to take her. It contains the next round of vomit pretty well, but it needs to be cleaned.

As you can imagine, she was pretty upset. We stripped her, changed her diaper, put on some new clothes, and them mom and her just sort of hung out together while I went through the chore of cleaning up the vomit (Lucy, come here). Lucy didn't help.

Later, after she was much happier, we put her back to bed. The time was about 9:00PM. We had no other incidents in the night, and the next day went smoothly.

Until nighttime. We put her to bed normally. A bath, some reading, nothing to see here. But then, she began crying again. So I went in again to see how she was doing. I picker her up to hug her, and vomit.

Rush to tub, vomit shrapnel every where. Clean up, new clothes, mom and baby hug. It's a repeat of the entire night before. It's deja puke all over again.

This time though, we take her to our bed. She's not interested in laying in her crib. She wants to law with us. So we're in our bed. Relaxing. She's miserable, and we're not sure why.

I pick her up. (Are you noticing a trend). And she vomits again. Thankfully, I take the entire thing, and none of it goes on a bed. But from our room to the tub, there's a trail of vomit that thankfully Lucy follows like Hansel -- or I guess Gretel.

After another soak in the tub, more hugging, consoling, relaxing, and reading, Autumn goes down again. We're freaked out, but she's asleep. One more vomit incident and we're going to the hospital. But she has no fever, and she's otherwise fine. She has some puffy eyes, but who doesn't after two good pukes?

Now, we're on Sunday night. We've had a good day eating. We're happy reading books. She goes to bed, and starts crying. Instead of letting her get herself worked up, I try the tried, tested and true trick of taking a car ride. 20 minutes later, she's sound asleep and other than the occasional Mommy, Mommy, she sleeps through the night and doesn't vomit.

But holy. What a weekend.