Using Dad, for a Crutch

As I write this, Taylor and her mother are out trick-or-treating. Anxiously, I await report of her adventure. Last year it was a little overwhelming and she went into a shell. I'm not there. It's a long story.

It all started as I was flying through the air. Actually, Destiny's wheel was set in motion over 30 years ago, when I first picked up a golf club. All the subsequent years of pounding golf balls, driving through with my right side, has altered my body. 

That's the only explanation I have for the unnatural behavior regarding my big right toe. For as long as I can remember... at least five years, a war has been waged. While most nails coexist peacefully with their neighbor; With disturbances such as, untended cuticles, or earthen smuggling, and occasional hostilities rising in the form of a hangnail. The nail-toe relations on the toe in question has degraded into rage-filled assault.  I won't go into detail here, this is family material, but you wouldn't think a nail could dig that deep, or that a river create the Grand Canyon, or a glacier carve the Great Plains. Given time, nature can do most anything.  Wonderful if you're visiting a national park, not so wonderful if natures digging happens in your toe. My toe has long lost the battle, but to me it's only a nuisance. Sure it flares up once in a while, and a day in golf shoes will leave me limping for the evening, but for the most part it doesn't affect my day to day life.

Then there was this Saturday.  The family was up fairly early.  Linda was with Taylor at her table, finishing  breakfast while completing a puzzle.  Luna was at my feet, anxious to play after a night in the kennel. A quick peek out back indicated an overnight rainfall. Realizing  a game of fetch in the back"yard" would quickly give birth to Mud-luna, which would lead to the game of mop the floor and wash the dog, I decided a walk might be better.

Luna Lounging

Daddy Time: Airport Edition

In February 2010 I made a post that talked about Daddy Time. (I won't rehash the contents, but if you're interested, feel free to give it another look.)  Now that we are 20 months into the future, Daddy Time has begun to evolve and actually increase.  

I still get my time early in the morning. Except now, instead of the glider in her room, it takes place in our bed, and often Taylor is a bit grumpier. In addition, there is another version of Daddy Time taking place these days.   Most evenings, I'll spend time with Taylor when she first gets home, as Linda gets dinner ready, or relaxes for a little bit (yes, I do prepare dinner at times).  Most of these evenings are spent in her back "yard" play area, but sometimes we do something special.

The Family Grows

I awake startled. Phantom pain foggily registers. Quietly, I lay on my mattress trying to place the time. Judging the light protruding the scant window coverings, I peg it around 6:30.

I've always been a restless sleeper, tossing and turning through the night. There isn't much consistent in my sleep other then the difficulty in which it comes. This morning I lay on my stomach, my feet overhanging the foot of the bed.

Phantom pain is replaced by the real thing.

"Knock it off..."

There are a few questions where most people find themselves squarely in one camp or the other. For instance; Algebra or Geometry? Collegiate or Professional Athletics? Feline or Canine? You'll find me in camp with geometry, college athletics and dogs. I've always been a dog person.

"Ouch... Stop it!"

Close your eyes, and picture a puppy...

"Clear."

- Zap! -

"... anything?"

So many thoughts.  

So many voices in my head, all vying for attention... if only they would settle down for a spell.  So much I want to say, but when I open my mouth, no words escape... 

"clear."

Why is this so hard? Thought sparks in the deep recess of my mind. Words are expressly chosen in a vain hope of  understanding. I open my mouth.  No words. Frantically, I struggle to retain the thought.  To that connection.  It is fruitless, as the inspiration fades like the memory of a dream, only to be replaced by another voice, another story, another feeling.  Another chance to connect, another opportunity missed. If only I could clear the voices, a moments peace.  If only I had the time.  If only I could rest, think... sleep. 

Just clear my mind.

"Clear.."

- Zap! -

...

- beep -

- beep -

- beep -

"We got 'em."

"where am I?"

"Vital signs are weak, but stable."

"That was a close one.  Welcome back."

The Taylor Times : First Edition

This isn't going to be a post about skiing, but there is a very high risk of avalanche... an avalanche of Taylor information. I won't delay the festivities with stories of other happenings.  Perhaps after, but first let's get right into The Taylor Times. 

Picture Day

A local photo studio came by Taylor's preschool for class pictures a few weeks ago.  Unfortunately it seems Taylor wasn't in the mood to cooperate with the whole process.  She came home with three pictures which accurately captured three of Taylor's often very creative facial expressions.  I won't post any of them here because they are group photos with her classmates, and it doesn't seem right to post pictures of other peoples children. Suffice to say if you've been following this blog you have seen the looks.  On the bright side, the people taking the pictures were able to see the sweet little girl hiding behind the scowl.  They offered us a free session at their studio to get some pictures of Taylor sans attitude.

Out of that session they gave us quite a few very cute thumbnail proofs. It was difficult, but after consulting with some interested parties, we narrowed it down to 5 pictures.  We got very few physical pictures, but I scanned them into the computer so we'll be able to print out multiple copies. Following are the pictures we selected.

This is my favorite for it's artistic flavor. We got a copy of it in 8x10 and hope to have it framed.