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I love watching Ian crawl around the house. He does it with such gusto, obviously pleased at himself. His favorite things to do:

• Unplug the lamp
• Unplug the DVD player
  
• Pull on the shower curtain
• Pull on the living room curtains
• Pull on George's - the cat's - tail, until he whacks Ian on the head
• Pour George's food and water out onto the kitchen floor
• Eat cheerios and leftovers off the dining room floor
• Find two objects and bang them together

Can't wait for the adventures to begin once he starts walking.

Separation anxiety

Ian is usually sucking on his bottle when I leave for work in the mornings, oblivious to anything that is going on more than a few inches from his mouth. But Silvi has been breaking down as I try to walk out the door.

We've "solved" this by letting her call me as I drive away and I tell her where I am. "I'm at the stop light, passing the hardware store, by the lake..." It's so utterly heartbreaking to see her tear-streaked face as I pull out of the driveway.

Sure hope this phase doesn't last as long as it takes Congress to agree on something.

Community

Annie works at an Episcopal church once a week as well as sings in the choir. She's developed quite a few good relationships through this and it's wonderful how Ian is so accepted in this small community.

The choir director especially gives him a lot of love and Ian is a favorite in Child Care. We are so incredibly fortunate to have this for both he and Silvi, and plan to hold onto it for as long as we can.

Sometimes, she wins. Sometimes.

Some nights, those nights when Silvi is more Wicked Witch of the West than Snow White, she wins. She gets to sleep with us. With me, that is. Annie sleeps on the futon because even though we have a king-size bed, Silvi is a snuggler.

Last night there was a wide open space where Annie usually sleeps and one contented little girl snuggled up to her restless daddy.

Wiped

Annie makes it look so easy. The taking care of two kids thing. She's at a meeting right now and I'm in charge of lunch and naps. And getting them out the door later.

I'm wiped. I could shoot for a 10-hour day and not be this tired.

Winter whiner

I don't care how long I live in Minnesota, I will always be a winter whiner.

A cup of cold water

About once a week, Silvi throws a colossal fit when she goes to bed. Christian Bale's little meltdown pales in comparison.

We let her scream it out for a good 10-15 minutes, then I go in and nonchalantly offer her a drink of cold water or milk, wipe the sweat from her forehead and quietly tell her that's enough.

Works wonders.

Guys home alone

Silvi spent the night with Grandpa and Grandma, Annie's out with a friend and it's just the two guys home.

What do you say we kick back and find a soccer game on the Spanish channel, eh Ian?

Slice o' life

Ian has learned how to feed himself. Well, sort of.

If you place food in front of him, whether it's cheerios or lasagna, he'll shovel it in until his high chair tray is empty. And his cheeks are squirrel-cheeked packed. Of course this causes him to choke half the food back up. But at least he hasn't swallowed his hearing aids yet.

And if he's motivated enough, say, to pull our cat's tail or reach for the DVD cables, he can pull himself into a standing position. But he mostly crawls. He has a funny little crawl; throws his hands down with force. Takes breaks often.

I should also mention that his vocal cords show no signs of underdevelopment. If his bottle isn't in his mouth fast enough, he lets us - and our neighbors - know. He's quite easy to find in the department store.

He smiles easily, except that he's got a molar coming in. He endures his sister's rough loves. She also gets him to laugh. And cry.

Slice of our life.

Phone calls

The favorite phone calls that I get - almost on a daily basis - are from Silvi. Her small voice. Her big, "Hi! Do you know who this is!?"

Apparently she was having a bad day today because I could barely understand her through all the sobs and tears.

Still the best call I got all day.

Sesame Street Live

We took the kids to see Sesame Street Live last week. They absolutely loved - the first ten minutes of it. We made it to the intermission then it was time for something new, like playing on the escalators. Next time I say we save the thirty bucks and head to the mall, where the escalators are free and a hot dog won't set me back a week's paycheck.

Do I sound like a grumpy dad or what?!

Mom's reading glasses

Getting ready to shoot

OK, no more rants today. Well, the day is still young.

I am super excited about my upcoming shoot tomorrow night for my new company. I'm shooting three different models from 3:30pm - 11pm in an old dance studio. I've also hired an art director who works as a fashion editor for a local fashion magazine. One shoot will be with a young model who works modeling clothing for the Home Shopping Network and is an aspiring actress. The second shoot will be with a musician/model and will be a dark and grainy, seductive-angry black and white scene. And the third shoot will be with a 6'1" international model doing a glamorous European-style shoot.

Be watching for the edited clips on my site in the days to come.

Seriously now

I am going to seriously lose it. I'm not joking. Someone has been sick in our house every day since at least Thanksgiving. Ian's finally home, but now Silvi has her fourth bout with a fever. And this morning I woke up with one.

What do we do?! Leave all the windows open and hope the Arctic air will kill whatever is living in our home?! Spray the place with ammonia!? Wear SARS protective gear all day?!

I'm about ready to check into a hotel for a the rest of this blasted winter.

Hospital - Day 6

Tick and a freaken' tock,
eyes upon the clock;
the tubes are out, and Ian's fine,
maybe home tomorrow if the doctor will sign;
no more oxygen, his stats are up,
milk for breakfast, sweet potatoes for sup;
he's bored to tears, his mom is too,
I need to clean the house, it looks like a zoo.

Hospital - Day 5

Ian has moved out of intensive care up to the sixth floor of Children's Hospital, which, I take it, is a good thing to have happen. He's still on fifty percent oxygen, but the doctor did say something to the effect of him coming home in the next few days.

Silvi is sleeping next to me as I type, lulled to sleep by her 538th viewing of Pee-Wee's Big Adventure. Tim Burton, you are one twisted individual, but you make my daughter laugh. "I know you are, but what am I."

Hospital - Day 4

Thanks, everyone, for the words of encouragement. Ian is starting to get that spark back in his baby blues. He's getting bored of sitting around all day and keeps staring down the hallway like he wants to make a break for it.

He's still on oxygen but down to fifty percent. Still in intensive care but hopefully will move today. Still on the nebulizer but only every six hours. Still hates all the wires plugged into his body but has stopped trying to pull them out.

Still waiting to hear when he might get sprung but resigned to spending the weekend there.

Hospital - Day 3

Silvi and I rang in the new year by falling asleep in my bed around 9:30. Annie spent the night at the hospital again. Ian was doing much better yesterday and they were able to turn his oxygen dependency from one hundred percent down to fifty percent. But I guess they had to turn it back up to a hundred percent last night again. Sigh.

So we wait. Happy New Year? I'll let you know in a few days...

Hospital - Day 2

It is pneumonia. And something else. Still not sure. Anyway, Ian was doing peachy until the afternoon when he tanked. Oxygen levels in the sixties. Lots of doctors scurrying. Couple shots of adrenaline and hours on the nebulizer. Ian turned into the Incredible Hulk, requiring four nurses to hold him down in order to poke him a few times to find his itsy bitsy teeny weenie veins for an IV.

He's in intensive care tonight so they can monitor him full-time. He was doing groovy when I left and Annie just called to let me know he's off the nebulizer. How he hates that contraption. Like Bush hates a two-part question.

Annie ran into a friend from our Down syndrome group; turns out her daughter has been there for nine days! Please, God, let that be the exception.

Hospital stay

Annie took Ian to the doctor yesterday to see how the antibiotics are helping his pneumonia. His oxygen levels were down around seventy percent so they sent him to Children's Hospital in an ambulance.

They've done a lot of tests on him and determined that it's not RSV and may indeed not even be pneumonia, but may be a virus and/or bacterial infection. He still needs constant oxygen to breath and they changed his antibiotic prescription last night. Annie stayed the night with him and Ian seems to be doing better today. He downed a bottle and a half of milk and is once again doling out his award-winning smiles.

Silvi and I will go visit in a bit; hope it's the last night he has to spend there. After all, I wouldn't want our cat thinking it's safe to sleep on the living room floor once again.

Merry hack, cough Christmas

We're all sick. Both kids have pneumonia; Annie and I have colds and fevers.

Christmas Eve Day and all four of us had fevers. Ian is doing the nebulizer every four hours. Two trips to Urgent Care. One trip for Silvi. Lots of lying on the couch and watching movies. Poor Ian is miserable.

That was also the day I shot a music video on three hours of sleep after Silvi had a reaction to cold medicine and spent the night tossing in our bed. I shot all day with 102 fever, then crawled into bed, aching. Had to skip the Christmas Eve party with my parents.

Christmas Day we made it to Annie's parents house - barely - and probably should have stayed home. Fevers and, well, you get the jest of it. Send Kleenex.

Yesterday I worked for five hours shooting for my new company, again with a fever. Salsa dancing and performance art.

Right now I'm down at my office, editing the music video, and yes, another fever. Wonder how it will affect the finished video? Did Lewis Carroll have a fever when he wrote Alice in Wonderland?

Beauty

I can't think of a better way to return to blogging than to begin with an image of my gorgeous daughter, Silvi.
She and I had a daddy-daughter date last night, going to our favorite place, The Global Market. Thursday nights are especially fun because they usually have live music, as they did last night. We always visit the fresh fish counter, look at the lobsters, eat Mexican tamales and rice and beans and spend time picking just the right sweets in the candy store. There's a mostly deserted hallway where we end up playing tag or stand on the walkway to watch the bicyclists pass below.

The last month and a half has been a walk through the refining fire. I'm not going to share here just yet - perhaps never - the details of my struggle. Suffice it to say that I am starting down a new path, one that I am ultra excited to be on.

I'm closing down my Narrow Ridge side business that focused on philosophy and training videos. In it's place I have created a new company called Latitude 81 (now Wanderview Films) that will work within the fashion and creative arts industry. I had my first shoot this past Tuesday night with a model that I hired to fashion various outfits. I haven't had a chance to edit the video yet, but you can find a sample of it here.

To switch from philosophy to fashion may seem to be a complete about face to many people. I don't see it that way. Part of why I loved philosophy - and still do - is because of the orderliness and beauty of the thought and language. Much like mathematicians find beauty in a proof or a poet in the rhythm of words.

Ian and Silvi have impacted my view of philosophy deeply. They have drawn me out of abstraction into the concrete world, though I still struggle with favoring fantasy over reality. The nature of the arts, I suppose.

This brings me to the title of this post - beauty. The fashion world is consumed with beauty and mostly with surface beauty. Surface beauty is not, in and of itself, a bad thing. The symmetry and orderliness of a beautiful face or body, as our culture defines such things, point us toward what we all aspire for - perfection. And the line between false beauty and true beauty is fine; the fashion industry is rampant with false beauty, fantasy and illusion.

But...

There is something in our hearts that longs for the beautiful. Just because many, if not most, fashion has as its focus the sensual (this is often sexual, but not always - I draw a distinction) does not mean we must abandon it. I love the union of style and clothes with the grace and elegance of a model's body. It calls to something within me. Reminds me of something lost. Makes me feel alive. Sparks my creativity, my passion, and yes, even draws me into the presence of God.

Yes, it is surface beauty. And Ian's smile and laughter strikes deeper into my soul than any walk down the fashion runway. I don't know how to merge these two world's yet. I am just beginning to walk, to learn, to make mistakes, to fumble my way through a fashion world wrought with pitfalls, yet where I desire to go.

Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so the saying goes... the tagline for my company is "Beauty beyond the boundaries." The short clip I posted for you to see on my site is just a glimpse of a segment I'm calling simply - "Dance." I hope you do.

Partly foggy

The fog is finally beginning to lift. Stay tuned for more exciting weather news.

A little something

I met with a blogging friend last night who said I should at least blog a little something.

A little something.

Ha, ha. I crack myself up.

Awww-some

Awww-some, originally uploaded by Narrowridge.