Swimming

Twitter II

I'm really glad I signed up for Twitter; I use my blog as a journal of my days and haven't been too faithful writing lately. So being able to preserve at least a little of what I'm doing day-to-day is a great help. Hope to break out of this writing funk sooner than later.

Toddler theology

Silvi stumped me last night.

She was stomping on ants.

"Silvi, remember how we talked about how it's better for things to live than to kill them?"

"Uh huh." Stomp stomp.

"Come on, Sivli. Stop killing the ants."

"But you said dead things go to be with God. I want them to be with God."

"Umm..."

"And you said God helps us. God can help these ants, right?"

"Umm..."

She leans down and talks to a crushed ant. "Come on, little guy. It's OK. You can get better."

"Uh, Silvi, just stop stepping on ants, OK?"

Twitter

I added Twitter to my sidebar so you can follow my days in real time. Works like "Where's Waldo?" but more high-tech. I can update from my cell phone and let you know about the car accident I was in because I was texting an update to Twitter.

Summer of fairs

It's turning into the summer of art fairs and street festivals. Three weeks ago was the Grand Old Day in St. Paul, two weeks ago was the Excelsior Art on the Lake, last week we went to the Stone Arch Festival in the Minneapolis Riverfront District and this weekend (this afternoon, actually) we head to Hayward, Wisconsin for the Musky Fest.

We'll stay in a cabin on the lake with my parents, who are finishing up a two-week writing sabbatical. They're both trying to finish up books and are hoping two weeks in the boonies will do it. Personally, I need the sounds of clinking coffee cups to write, but that's just me. They talked about hearing bears scrounging around in the night (saw a few of them, big ones); don't know how much writing I would get done wondering if a bear was going to wander onto the porch, looking for an afternoon snack.

And the rest of the summer? A Twins baseball game on July 5th, my company's employee picnic the following weekend, the Uptown Art Fair in the beginning of August, then a week in Chicago and Detroit with family. A trip to Los Angeles in September and that about does it for the summer of 2008.

So, are you supposed to run or stay still if you meet a bear in the woods?

Horton hears

Daddy-daughter date. I took Silvi to see Horton Hears a Who last night and we actually made it through 90% of a movie before racing for the bathroom. I was enjoying the film, an unexpected pleasure, but couldn't talk Silvi into returning for the final 10-minutes. I had promised a visit to the playground afterwards, and, well, Horton can fend for himself when there's a new slide to conquer.

We sat in the same row with two guys who were in their late teens. I kept thinking that it was weird for a couple of older guys to choose this film until I realized that one of them had Down syndrome. I don't know if the other guy was his brother or a caregiver, but I couldn't help thinking about Silvi being in his place when Ian grows up.

To tell the truth, it angered me. I was angry that Silvi won't be able to share films with Ian that are more age appropriate. Won't be able to share in the subtleties and nuance of character development and the richness of intricate plots.

Horton heard a Who, Silvi had to poo and daddy sulked "Boo, hoo."

"Earlier is better"

I'd never heard of the company Sequenom before reading about it on Waldenhouse. They are developing genetic tests that will allow detection of Down syndrome without invasive amniocentesis testing. Their preliminary tests (using simple blood samples drawn from volunteers at various Planned Parenthood branches in the US and abroad) have yielded results that are 100% successful in detecting Trisomy 21. And their stock is "soaring."

I registered and listened to a conference they presented to potential investors last week in Vancouver. (You can find it here. It's nearly two hours long and academic, but very interesting.) The "Holy Grail," as one presenter called it, is finding a non-invasive procedure for detecting Down syndrome "in the first trimester."

Why is detection in the first trimester so important? I won't state the obvious. Another presenter said that "earlier screening and diagnosis is better for the family." He re-emphasized that he thinks these tests will soon be successful during the first trimester and stated that "earlier is better."

Genetic research is an extraordinary field, full of promise. But it is not value-neutral. "Earlier is better" is a value-laden statement. There's part of me that wants to applaud a non-invasive detection method that is as simple as drawing the mother's blood. But there's a bigger part of me that dreads what I know it will mean for the future.

Websites for toddlers

When Silvi was 18-months-old, she started mimicing what I did on the computer. It didn't take much coaching for her to learn to navigate to the sites I bookmarked for her on the tool bar. In addition to PBS Kids, my two favorite sites are Poisson Rouge and the BBC's CBeebies. Poisson Rouge is an excellent place for toddlers to learn to use the computer mouse. And children of all ages will love the CBeebies Charlie and Lola, especially the fun story I'm Not Sleepy and I Will Not Go To Bed.

The car

This past Sunday was our first "real" summer day. Eighty and sunny. We drove over to St. Paul for their annual Grand Old Days celebration, a block party with food vendors, live music, art and things for the kids to do, such as pony rides, inflatable slides and a petting zoo.

Going anywhere with Silvi has become a challenge lately. She behaves well once we arrive at our destination, but the whole "getting out the door, walking to the car, buckling up" is frequently a traumatic event for the whole family.

Getting dressed is a game of chase. And there is the choice of shorts or a "flip" dress. (A "flip" dress is a dress that "flips" out in a nice circle when Silvi twirls. The higher the dress "flips," the more likely she is to approve of it.) Then, of course, are the decisions whether to take her doll, backpack or both. Sandals or tennis shoes. Socks or no socks.

Ian is easy.

Once outside, it's a game of tag. Or looking at ants, smelling flowers or crawling into "daddy's side" of the car. Squirm, squiggle, scream. Squirm, squiggle, scream.

Once we finally pull out of the driveway, her favorite game is to ask "Why?" Over and over. I've started answering, "Chicken pot pie."

The event in St. Paul was too hot, the lines too long, the food too expensive, the crowds too thick. Silvi had a blast.

Until it was time to go back to the car.

Training

Yesterday I spent the day in the cocoon of a video shoot. The outside world fades as all our attention is focused on getting the shots on the script before the talent has to leave. We had no crew to speak of, just my boss and me. Another training video.

Annie trained Silvi to use the toilet with M&M bribes. It worked stupendously. A few days ago while we were at the park, Silvi got a faraway look in her eyes, then sprinted toward the bathroom without taking a look back to see if I was following her, which I was.

Ian, it seems, will be crawling any day now. He is able to get up on all fours and rock his way backward. We are much more careful now about leaving him on our bed alone.

It seems we are all involved in some kind of learning - training - these days. I have been teaching myself 3D animation during down time at work with the hopes of using it in an upcoming project. It's comforting to be able to create a world that responds to all the instructions I give it. Control... the ultimate elixir.

You know it's only a matter of time

See here for the story.

Creativity and fear

It's a rain delay at the French Open. Nadal is up two sets. If you've never had a chance to watch him play on clay, it's the surface that brings out his most creative moves. He's known as the "King of Clay."

I've been thinking a lot about creativity lately. Came across this article from Scientific American called "How to Unleash Your Creativity." Fear is almost always at the root of the loss of creativity. The fear of looking foolish, of failure (or of success), the fear of committing oneself to a course of action. The fear of limits.

What makes someone like Nadal be able to succeed and fail in front of millions of people, week after week? I'm going to go back and see if the rain delay is over, and perhaps I'll come closer to finding out.

Updated: Nadal soundly beat Nicolas Devilder of France in three straight sets. Something the commentator said about Nadal made me think of this post. He talked about how Nadal is "relentless" during each point. I'm pretty sure that this unwillingness to relent is key in succeeding creatively as well. Another thing that stood out during the match, this time concerning Devilder, is the aspect of hope. After not winning a game in nearly three sets, Devilder finally won one right before the end of the match. He broke out with a huge smile, and his final game was recharged, if short.

Relentlessness and hope. Two partners in continued and fruitful creativity.

I Surf, Therefore I Am

I got Peter Kreeft's latest book in the mail yesterday, and, even though I'm only 10 pages into it, know it's going to be a classic. A short description:

This is the first book about surfing ever written by a philosopher. The author, a 70-year-old surfanatic, has been Professor of Philosophy at Boston College for over 40 years and has written 50 other books on philosophy, religion, and culture. But compared to this one, the others are nothing but straw.

It gives ten compelling existential reasons why everyone should surf: reasons from the great philosophers: Moses, Buddha, Confucius, Lao Tzu, Socrates, Plato, Aristotle, Jesus, Machiavelli, Freud, and George Morey. It explains how surfing is the easiest and most delightful way in the world to attain what you most deeply long for, for it can make you good, mystical, peaceful, wise, heavenly, happy, sexy, and even rich.

It also contains a manifesto defending bodyboarding as true surfing, not “sponging,” and a short handbook of seven practical lessons for beginners in this noble art. The book is suffused with the offbeat and unpredictable humor that characterizes both the sea herself and those who have fallen in love with her.

French Open 2008

For all you without cable or stuck at a desk all day (like me), The Tennis Channel is streaming the French Open for free (you just have to register your email). I'm pulling for Rafael Nadal over Roger Federer (although Novak Djokovic is looking good this year). And I'm predicting Jelena Jankovic against Maria Sharapova for the women's finals. Should be some epic matches.

Memorial day

Ian and Grandma

Great laugh

Untitled from Narrow Ridge on Vimeo.

Tagged

I got tagged by Livia the Great over in Switzerland (who I am deeply jealous of because she got to go here). Thought I'd better jump on it right away before my day consumes me with a stack of video tapes to shuffle through.

What was I doing 10 years ago?
Living at the foot of Pike's Peak in Colorado, married for four years to my soulmate Annie, eating all my sister's food, eating all my parent's food, making unbearably boring educational videos. (Wait, that's what I'm doing today.)

Five things on my "to-do" list today
1. Digitize a plethora of video tapes
2. Finish editing a video to be shown on Saturday.
3. Discover my life's purpose over lunch hour down at the bookstore.
4. Put gas in the car and check the oil.
5. Put away half of the books on my bedside table that threaten to bury me in the night.

Bad Habits
Procrastinate, overeat, forget to check the oil for weeks at a time, daydream during important meetings, leave my clothes on the floor until they stick there, pass the buck when scolded for not remembering important information during meeting, share too much about myself too quickly, retreat into cave for long periods at a time, tend to focus on my bad habits too much.

Five places I've lived
1. Bolivia, South America
2. West Palm Beach, South Florida
3. Columbia, South Carolina
4. Seattle
5. Chicago

Five jobs I've had
1. Hardware store sales
2. Scuba diving equipment sales
3. Chuck E. Cheese pizza maker and mouse
4. Assembly line worker
5. Landscaping crew member

If you find yourself tagged with one of these lists, drop me a line so I can pop over.

Silvi's First Bike Ride

Belated Pics

"I can especially relate with Van Gogh. Based on his furious brushstrokes, he must have thrown a lot of temper tantrums."
"If I've learned one thing in my three years, it's that the harder I blow, the more spit I generate, and the more cake I get."

"Someone mentioned something about swinging? Put down the camera, Mom. "

The Sleeper

I'm thinking Ian has what it takes to be president one day.

Milestone

A few days ago, Ian began clapping. While in his swing, in his exersaucer, sitting on my lap. A wonderful accomplishment in and of itself, but not the milestone that gives me great hope for my little boy.

Two nights ago, as I was lying in bed watching a repeat of 30 Rock on hulu with Ian - perched on my all-too-comfortable belly - I asked him to give me a clap during a commercial break. I nearly fell off the bed when he did! To make sure it wasn't a coincidence, I asked him to do it again, and again, and again. Then I distracted him with something else, waited a few minutes, then said, "Ian, give me a clap."

Clap, clap and clap.

Our first "conversation."

I must have really made a big deal about the clapping because yesterday when I walked in the door from work, the first thing he did was to clap and give me a look that seemed to say, "Hey dad, here's another one of those claps you were diggin' last night."

Special Needs Parent

My interview with Special Needs Parent was posted today if you'd like to read it. Thanks, Michele, for all the work you're doing helping kids with disabilities and their parents.

Date with Silvi

Ian met with his PT and teacher today. He's doing phenomenal with his motor skills and is at about a six-month-old level as far as his speech is concerned (he's eight months old this week). He may be falling a bit behind there, but wow, can he ever suck on his big toe, which is more than his pop can do.

Even though I had the whole weekend off of work for once, I still had to put in twelve hours today. I realized that all this overtime has been a little hard on Silvi, especially when I got a call from her at 6:30 this morning, crying because I wasn't home when she got up. So tonight was one of our date nights. She and I were planning to head back to our favorite spot, the Global Market, but she decided that a ride on the merry-go-round at the Mall of America was in order. Food Network guru Alton Brown was there signing his book for a few hundred fans, but we opted for a quick plate of greasy Chinese food followed by a carousel ride atop a broken plastic horse. But Silvi was thrilled, which is more than can said for the merry-go-round operator. I don't blame him, because really, how many times can you tell people not to step off of the moving ride before you want to run screaming from the mall with a hand full of arcade tokens and a bag of day old cotton candy?

Even though I usually try to make it home by diner each night, which often means being at work before the rooster crows, I'm still pretty shot when I pull into the driveway at night. I hate how work saps the best part of me. I remember reading a quote somewhere that when a parent gets home after work that their children receive only their temperament, not their teaching. Anyway, it's probably the lack of sleep that's got me quoting writers who get to sit around all day and imagine what it's like to have a real job. No offence if you're a writer. I'm just jealous.

I hope Silvi remembers these little date nights. They're usually the highlight of my week. That, and watching Ian suck his toe.

Sufferin’ succotash

Talking about how busy you are at work is about as interesting as talking about the weather, but, man, I'm wiped! It's been six super stressful, seditious, sorrowful and scandalous sets of seven days. I'm going to do nothing this weekend but engage in severe amounts of sedentary, succulent sleep. Sheesh!

The Pope and Down syndrome

I am not a Catholic and know very little about Pope Benedict XVI, but came across the following while reading up about his visit to the US:

It may be worth noting that Joseph Ratzinger had personal experience of the Nazi approach to "rejects." A cousin with Down's Syndrome, who in 1941 was 14 years old, just a few months younger than Ratzinger himself, was taken away by the Nazi authorities for "therapy." Not long afterwards, the family received word that he was dead, presumably one of the "undesirables" eliminated during that time.