Soccer 2010

by Doug on August 29, 2010

Soccer season has started again, and this year, I’m an assistant coach. We had a resounding victory in my coaching debut, and it has nothing to do with my skills. As it turns out, we have a couple of kids who are really good as 7 year olds and the rest aren’t bad at all. Amy’s web design company, Sumy Designs, sponsored the team, one of our good friends, Mike, is the head coach, and Mike’s son, Luke, is one of Cole’s best friends. On top of that, and we’ll see how this plays out, the team seems to be full of some really good kids.

Cole’s skills have really improved since last year, and it’s nice to see him playing with a team that are closer to his age and skill level. Last year, he was barely 6 on a U8 team that skewed toward the high 7 and even 8 year old level. Yesterday, on the way to the game, I had a discussion with him where it turns out he felt like he wasn’t very good at soccer because last year, they had told him to be “sweeper” and he didn’t know what that was. I asked if they had explained the term to him. They had not. I suggested to him, that this was poor coaching and had nothing to do with how good or bad he was as a player.

From what he told me yesterday, Cole’s biggest source of stress is that he doesn’t think I’ve done enough to let other kids know he’s my son. He’s not looking for special treatment, I think he’s just proud of me being his Dad. Which is really heart-warming. On the other hand, as a coach, it’s up to me to treat the kids equally – which isn’t a huge deal or very difficult at this level. Right now the kids are just out there having a good time.

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End of Summer

by Doug on August 17, 2010

School starts this morning. Like most parents, I suppose, I’m surprised at how fast summer went. Part of it is that time just goes faster for adults. I was viewing my summer breaks through the eyes of a kid, and my childrens’ through the eyes of an adult. When you’re 6, a year is 1/6 of your life – the summer is 1/18th. When you’re 39, a year is 1/39 of your life – the summer is 1/117. So, the relative time scales are a little different. And, they start things a little earlier – I think this year is only about a week earlier than I probably started school, so it’s not that huge a difference.

For us, this year, the move (or should I say The Move!) really chewed up the summer. We had planned on taking a big vacation out to South Dakota, but then the move happened about a week before that was scheduled, making time and money an issue.

Mostly, I think our new pool will stand out in my mind about this summer. We all swam in it an awful lot. The kids’ swimming skills progressed dramatically, Cole in particular, I would say – he lost the floaties, goes off the diving board, and goes under water with no problem.

We were also fortunate to have a lot of visitors: Aunt Suzie & Kenza, my parents, Emily, Jack and the kids, and the Nesters, among others. Very nice to have a place where you can fit a few people. We’ve sacrificed a guest room in favor of an office, but the air mattress in the basement has served as at least a temporary solution.

But, now it’s time for the kids to start school. Harper in kindergarten already! Cole is starting in a new school, but hopefully starting in first grade will spare him from most of the “new kid” hassles. With any luck, we’ll be in this school system for a good long time, so I expect, barring the very unexpected, the kids will probably be old-timers in the system when all is said and done.

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Made It Another Year

by Doug on August 8, 2010

Today I turned 39. My birthday is two days after my Grandpa’s, on August 6; so I always remember his birthday. He would have been 100 this year were he still alive. In fact, he died in 1988 at the age of 77. Yesterday, Cole and I went on a little 2 mile hike on the Wabash Heritage Trail. I was telling him about my Grandpa who I more or less idolized. First of all, he was a solid individual. But, also, he was the object of my little boy hero worship, traditionally directed at one’s Dad. My father left when I was two and my step-dad didn’t come along until I was 5 or 6. Cole still likes me an awful lot, but observing him, I can tell that my Superhero status won’t last for too much longer. So, Grandpa was the closest thing I had to a father figure during those Superhero years. Anyway, Grandpa was not part of our day-to-day life, and my step-dad took care of all of those necessary, mundane, largely thankless father tasks that end up bringing a Dad back to earth for a boy; meaning Grandpa got to remain up on the pedestal. Telling Cole about him, I recognize that he’s still up there for me. Which isn’t all bad – it’s good to have a hero. And I had my step-dad (who became simply “Dad” as I got to know him) taking care of the hard dad work. And, in the 90s, I got back into regular communication with my (biological) dad. (And, of course, Mom was there for me through it all). So, after a rocky start, things worked out for me more or less well dad-wise.

I’m not sure why a post on my birthday digressed that severely into a trip down memory lane. Probably because getting older makes me think a little more about growing up. Anyway, the past year has been an eventful one. The central fact of the past year has been looking for and moving into a new house – a colossal hassle that I’m glad to have behind me. I’m afraid that spending significant amounts time and money on that project has made me a little irritable about both. However, I do love the new house and the new neighborhood. After buying 3 houses in 10 years, I’m looking forward to regrouping and spending an eternity or two not paying any fees to realtors.

Family-wise, this has been a good year. The kids are at a really fun age. Harper is transitioning from “little” girl to “big” girl. (Scare quotes, because these things are relative.) She’s just becoming more of a self-sufficient person and will be starting kindergarten in the fall. Cole is going into the first grade and has been in tee-ball and soccer over the past year. And, of course, Amy remains cool.

Professionally, probably the most significant event was that I got to argue in front of the 7th Circuit; getting grilled by the preeminent Judge Posner. (Unfortunately, I lost that particular decision, but that’s still an experience not a lot of lawyers get.) We also hired on a new associate.

Today is demonstrating the coolness of having a birthday land on a weekend in the summer. This morning, I got to sleep in; the kids were eager for me to open presents when I got up. Then, I went for a nice run/walk along the Wabash Heritage Trail, and it looks like for the afternoon, we’re going to do some swimming and grilling with the DeWitts; probably have a few beers as well. Good times.

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Two Minus Three Equals Negative Fun

by Doug on August 2, 2010

Hi, I’m Troy McClure. You may remember me from such educational films as “Two Minus Three Equals Negative Fun” and “Firecrackers: The Silent Killer”.

Harper, shortly after her fifth birthday, correctly counted down to negative one. I’m impressed. I told the kids, “two or three minutes until bedtime.” Harper responded, “Three. Because that’s longer. Then two. Then one. Then zero. Then negative one.”

In fact, it looks like this is going to be considerably more than three minutes. Because bedtime is a pain. And I’m tired. And the kids are playing Legos nicely together.

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Shouldn’t be surprised

by Amy on July 29, 2010

I took the kids to get eye exams today. At Harper’s 5 year check up, our pediatrician noted that she had some eye dominance on the right side, so she recommended a check up. So I made the appointment and decided to get Cole checked while we were there just to be sure he was fine.

Cole has 20/20 vision. He is, however, moderately to severely color blind. The doctor has a book of those color dot pictures, and Cole only got one. So I guess that’s pretty significant, but in the grand scheme of things, okay.

Then Harper. She was so good and tried so hard to do everything the doctor asked. At one point she was too small for the equipment and had to sit on her knees to see through the machine. She has very good vision in her right eye, but her left eye is not great. It’s not a huge prescription, but I guess she has some astigmatism too. She has to get glasses that she’ll need to wear all the time and then she has to go get rechecked in four weeks. If her eye isn’t doing better, then she’s going to have to wear a patch over her good eye until her other eye improves.

My baby girl, the four-eyed pirate. Arg!

So we’re in the market for new glasses, preferably pink.

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Busy Week

by Doug on July 25, 2010

The kids & I are kind of zoning out after a long week. (Amy’s making a fancy dinner). I guess it started the past weekend with the kids & I going to Ohio for a little trip. That was followed by having to put Keesha down on Monday, and then on Tuesday my sister and parents came to visit. My folks just visited for the evening, but Emily & her family stayed for several days. The kids had a *blast*. I’m always so tickled to see how well my kids get along with Emily’s kids. Harper idolizes Lucy and Cole & Mia share a lot of interests. But that also led to some long days — kids just kept playing until later in the evening. They were just having so much fun, it seemed like a shame to put them to bed.

On Friday, we went to the fair in the blazing heat – rode some rides, ate some fair food, and saw some of the animals that hadn’t yet been loaded up. On Saturday, we had friends over for a long time, swimming and grilling. That was punctuated by a thunder storm at bedtime which is always a treat. The power went out for a few hours, leading to the kids falling asleep in our bed. Cole had trouble getting back to sleep when we transferred him to his own bed. Today has gone pretty fast. We didn’t do a whole lot this morning. You could tell Cole wasn’t quite himself when he lost it over a half-eaten hot dog Amy threw away after Cole complained it was burnt (it was) and requested a PB&J. This afternoon, the kids & I went to see Despicable Me which was a cute little movie. Harper enjoyed it plenty, but Cole was getting some big belly laughs out of it. (He particularly liked the “dart gun/fart gun” confusion.)

Tonight it’s beautiful out, and Cole and I just got back from taking Brooksey on a 2 block walk. Hopefully we get the kids to bed at a reasonable time, and manage a little more relaxation.

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Keesha

by Doug on July 19, 2010

(Cross-posting this from the other blog).

Keesha ready for some head petting

Today we had to put Keesha to sleep. It’s been close to five years since I last had to write one of these posts. In fact, the first ode to a dog who had passed, Shady, was the subject of my first blog post.

Keesha was 14 years old. Amy adopted her from a shelter in Bloomington, days – maybe hours – away from being put down. She was only about a year old and as sweet as can be, but I believe she had been adopted by a family and didn’t work with them. In any event, the shelter was simply out of room. When Amy adopted her, she was skinny and shy. Mealtime with Brooksey presented some challenges because Keesha, having lived on the mean streets of Bloomington, gulped down food as fast as she could eat it and wasn’t inclined to share. Once she figured out that food would be steady, she settled down and let Brooksey have her share. (Not to say that Brooksey didn’t get nudged out of the way from time-to-time when there were tasty things in the dog bowls.) She quickly put on weight as well. In fact, she put on so much weight at one point that my buddy declared, “she’s an ottoman!”

About the only negative effect that hung on from her time as a stray (and this could have just been part of her nature) was her fear of thunderstorms. Back when she could get up into the bed, you were apt to wake up wearing Keesha as a hat when storms were rolling through.

She was generally the alpha dog, but not terribly assertive. She’d tolerate a certain amount of crap from overbearing puppies, but eventually she’d snarl them into place if they got too rambunctious. Brooksey and Shady never much challenged her. In fact, the only time there was an altercation between Brooksey and Keesha, Brooksey won decisively. It was my fault; I was on the couch eating some leftover Thanksgiving turkey out of a doggie bag. Shady was standing near me, hoping for some. Keesha edged closer, causing Shady to give a little puppy snarl. The ridiculousness of puppy Shady challenging Keesha with her tiny little snarl made me laugh. But that stopped pretty quickly as Keesha made some sort of move toward me (nothing aggressive – she was just trying to get some turkey), Brooksey came flying out of nowhere and latched on to Keesha’s neck (quite literally scaring the poop out of Keesha.) We think Brooksey thought Keesha was going to hurt me.

Keesha (left) and Brooksey (right) at dog camp

But, Keesha had the sweetest disposition. A stranger was just an opportunity for love. “Nobody loves love as Keesha loves love.” Her ears would go back on her head, her tail would wag hopefully, and she was just about impossible not to pet. She also had a great yowl – often heard when demanding her other great love: puppy treats. At the end, when she stopped wanting puppy treats, we knew something was desperately wrong.

Keesha had endured many health challenges over the years. At the end, she was blind, she had been diabetic and getting insulin shots twice per day for the past seven years, she survived a stroke two years ago, she had degenerative neuropathy (a doggie MS), and she had a mighty hump caused by a fatty tumor. For all of that, she still seemed to love life; happily demanding her puppy treat every day. As an old dog, she even learned a new trick a year or two ago. While staying at Amy’s mom’s house, Keesha learned that if she went outside there, she’d get a treat. So, she tried to parlay this into more treats at home – she’d ask to go out, step outside, then want to come right back in and get her treat. As I said, though, recently she did not take any joy even in that. And so, Amy and I had to make the decision to put her down. That was tough. Even tougher for the kids. Cole wasn’t old enough to know what was happening with Shady, and Harper hadn’t even been born. (In fact, Amy let me know she was pregnant with Harper the evening after we put Shady to sleep.) Needless to say, when we explained what was happening and let them say their goodbyes, Cole and Harper were very sad. I think they’re coming to terms with it, but it is a very sad thing when your dog dies, especially if you feel the duty to affirmatively act to end their suffering.

Keesha and me, kayaking at dog camp

Some other Keesha memories, in no particular order:

Apparently she climbed up to the top of the back of a couch up against a wall in Amy’s apartment in Monticello. It didn’t seem to dawn on her until half way across that it was, in Amy’s words describing Keesha’s thought process, “NARROW!”

We loved playing a game where Amy and I would stand a ways apart in the yard and call for Keesha. She would cheerfully come barreling (and there is no other way to describe her running other than ‘barreling’) toward the person calling her and get some love. Then the other person would call for her, and she’d happily barrel back. Rinse. Repeat.

Her hair would shed outrageously. Twice per year she’d blow her coat. And, when she did, she smelled oddly good.

Her hair was made for cooler climates. We used to joke that the happiest time in her life was when our furnace went out for a few days in the dead of winter. Finally, the house was being kept at a reasonable temperature and everybody wanted to snuggle up to her.

When we first moved into our house in Monticello, I loved watching Keesha and Brooksey tearing around excited about all the new space after having been apartment dwellers for so long. At some point while moving in, I saw Keesha eating a treat and didn’t think much of it, figuring Amy had given her a treat. Then about 10 minutes later, I saw her eating another one. Turns out she had found a tub with treats in it, and was just helping herself to them one-by-one. There was a similar type incident when she was down in Bloomington, involving a Taco Bell burrito. Rather than just wolf it down on the spot, she was caught slinking away to another room, holding the burrito gently in her mouth.

For some reason, I felt compelled to sing songs to Keesha. Among others, there was “Oh Keesha, you came and you saw and you found me, now I’m giving you love oh Keesha.” (sung to the tune of “Mandy.”) And there was “Down on Keester Island” (sung to the tune of “Thunder Island.”) And, for whatever reason, I liked to greet her by saying “Kuh-kuh-kuh-Keesha!”

I think she hung on so long because she dearly loved her people; and certainly we worked so hard on her health for so long because we loved her. But, at the end, we all wear out one way or another and Keesha was finally at the end. She was a very good dog. Rest now Keesha. We miss you.

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