Here is the most recent TV commercial my team at WSU and I have put together (and with upcoming budget cuts, it could be the last for quite a while).
Monday, January 26, 2009
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
Lindeman Sibling Weekend: Houston '09
Craig and I usually load up the dogs and head south this time of year. Not just because it's warmer, but because Cheryl (my sister-in-law) and I accidentally started a Lindeman Sibling tradition four years ago that focused on running the Houston Half Marathon (or 5k, if you don't mind the ridicule) that occurs mid-January every year. So we went down to Houston last weekend under the guise of Craig joining his brother Curt for the Houston Half. Really, it was our excuse to hang out with our almost five-month-old niece, Hagen, and get one last crash course on what to do with a tiny human before our little one is expected to arrive in ... (breathe deep here) ... 13 weeks.
Part I: Bunking up La Quinta style
We like to break up the 9-hour drive at least one leg of the trip to make it a little less painful. So the adventure started in north Dallas, where we stayed on our way down last Thursday after driving as far as we could before we couldn't see straight. We usually look for the hotels with an outside entrance so it's easy to sneak the dogs in. While this part sounds like fun enough, the real fun is for Luka to drink out of the ice bucket (that'll make you think twice before you fill the bucket up next time, won't it?) and Zoe never complains when there's a big bed to stretch out on. If only we had stuck around long enough for the free breakfast.
Part II: A tiny little bundle of cuteness
Whether we're eating good food or indulging in a spa treatment, we always have a great time in Houston. But this smile was the highlight (after highlight) of the weekend.
Hagen at the park:
Hagen and Cheryl on a Skype call with family:
Hagen and Uncle Craig:
Part III: A Heroic Feet
Craig and Curt signed up for this half-marathon early last summer when it looked like registration was going to fill up early. While they both had good intentions of showing up at the start line in prime condition, it just didn't happen this year. Curt had a number of injuries that prevented him from running at all the last three weeks before the race. And the longest run Craig had done since the Wichita half marathon in the fall was seven miles. We didn't know what to expect this year. In fact, Craig went to Houston not sure he would run at all. He packed his oldest pair of running shorts and left the short-sleeve running shirts at home, thinking that the most he might run is the last couple of miles if his brother needed him. But the Lindeman boys didn't let a pulled calf or lack of training keep them from starting, and for that matter, finishing with respectable times.
Cheryl, Hagen and I cheered them on this year, fully expecting one (if not both) of them to pull out of the race when we saw them at mile 4, 8 or 10. To our surprise, both kept going with determination to save face -- and perhaps to teach a lesson to their young one cheering them on from the sidelines (either in the Baby Bjorn or in the womb).
Let the training begin for Houston Half 2010!
Carrie
Part I: Bunking up La Quinta style
We like to break up the 9-hour drive at least one leg of the trip to make it a little less painful. So the adventure started in north Dallas, where we stayed on our way down last Thursday after driving as far as we could before we couldn't see straight. We usually look for the hotels with an outside entrance so it's easy to sneak the dogs in. While this part sounds like fun enough, the real fun is for Luka to drink out of the ice bucket (that'll make you think twice before you fill the bucket up next time, won't it?) and Zoe never complains when there's a big bed to stretch out on. If only we had stuck around long enough for the free breakfast.
Part II: A tiny little bundle of cuteness
Whether we're eating good food or indulging in a spa treatment, we always have a great time in Houston. But this smile was the highlight (after highlight) of the weekend.
Hagen at the park:
Hagen and Cheryl on a Skype call with family:
Hagen and Uncle Craig:
Part III: A Heroic Feet
Craig and Curt signed up for this half-marathon early last summer when it looked like registration was going to fill up early. While they both had good intentions of showing up at the start line in prime condition, it just didn't happen this year. Curt had a number of injuries that prevented him from running at all the last three weeks before the race. And the longest run Craig had done since the Wichita half marathon in the fall was seven miles. We didn't know what to expect this year. In fact, Craig went to Houston not sure he would run at all. He packed his oldest pair of running shorts and left the short-sleeve running shirts at home, thinking that the most he might run is the last couple of miles if his brother needed him. But the Lindeman boys didn't let a pulled calf or lack of training keep them from starting, and for that matter, finishing with respectable times.
Cheryl, Hagen and I cheered them on this year, fully expecting one (if not both) of them to pull out of the race when we saw them at mile 4, 8 or 10. To our surprise, both kept going with determination to save face -- and perhaps to teach a lesson to their young one cheering them on from the sidelines (either in the Baby Bjorn or in the womb).
Let the training begin for Houston Half 2010!
Carrie
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
Running with the big dogs.
I recently decided I needed to stop being such a wuss, man up and face the cold Kansas winter head on. So for the second or third week in a row (I can't remember which, my brain is still frozen), I slapped on every piece of moisture-wicking clothing I could find and took to the streets for my long, Sunday-morning run. And as insane as it sounds, I've really enjoyed it. There's something completely gratifying about being the only idiot out on the road and a special, internal pride about the level of dedication it takes to run in a homemade ski mask and gloves. This week, I even mixed up my route and hit a couple of city parks and unfamiliar neighborhoods which offered a welcomed distraction from my numb extremities. So, relatively speaking, I was feeling pretty good as I re-entered our neighborhood and headed for home, however it was at this point that I was reminded that breaking away from the monotony of the treadmill also meant opening yourself up to little "surprises."
That said, I was probably two blocks from home when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a front door swing open and a chocolate-brown blur named Tank heading my way. Surprise! Now most people probably would have a) frozen in their tracks b) instinctively opened it up a notch or b) pooped themselves. Me? I turned and greeted all 85 pounds of the glistening-gummed, appropriately named Tank. You see, while something as benign as a ferris wheel can scare the bejesus out of me, dogs just don't. Plus, I'd met Tank before, we had a rapport. However, as he barreled down upon me, it seemed clear that he had forgotten (either that or he didn't recognize me from my two-and-a-half inches of exposed skin). So, with his owner frantically trailing behind, Tank was quickly at my feet, snarling, barking and all around doing a bang-up impersonation of Cujo—to which I calmly lowered my glove-covered hand to let him get a whiff of what he was about to eat. And that, as anti-climatic as it was, was it. We were buddies again, which may or may not have been a good thing, because moments later he jumped up on my chest and basically de-pants me as he slide down my body. Luckily, I was wearing layers.
That said, I was probably two blocks from home when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a front door swing open and a chocolate-brown blur named Tank heading my way. Surprise! Now most people probably would have a) frozen in their tracks b) instinctively opened it up a notch or b) pooped themselves. Me? I turned and greeted all 85 pounds of the glistening-gummed, appropriately named Tank. You see, while something as benign as a ferris wheel can scare the bejesus out of me, dogs just don't. Plus, I'd met Tank before, we had a rapport. However, as he barreled down upon me, it seemed clear that he had forgotten (either that or he didn't recognize me from my two-and-a-half inches of exposed skin). So, with his owner frantically trailing behind, Tank was quickly at my feet, snarling, barking and all around doing a bang-up impersonation of Cujo—to which I calmly lowered my glove-covered hand to let him get a whiff of what he was about to eat. And that, as anti-climatic as it was, was it. We were buddies again, which may or may not have been a good thing, because moments later he jumped up on my chest and basically de-pants me as he slide down my body. Luckily, I was wearing layers.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
How do you spell birthday fun? G-U-M-M-Y
Most of you know I have a bit of a thing for gummy candy. Worms or bears, fruity or sour. I'm not too picky (but I do have my favorites). So, in keeping with tradition, my team at work brought treats this week to help me celebrate my birthday since the office was closed last week. Lucky me, not only did we celebrate one day, but the treats got spread out over three days. While they were all equally tasty, the most interesting and interactive was the gummy ABCs. Now, I think I'm pretty much a gummy connoisseur, but I hadn't come across these letters before. Not only were they fruity and the right consistency, but they were lots of fun spread out on a board to make words with. On the other hand, they weren't so appetizing knowing they had been manhandled.
In other gummy news, I just discovered this #1 hit, "I am a gummy bear." I was so worried our kid would only grow up with Barney and Teletubbies to sing along with. It looks like there's hope for quality kid entertainment!
Carrie
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Easing into chaos
With the halfway marker of Carrie's pregnancy already just a spec in the rearview mirror, we're moving full-speed ahead in preparation for life on the other side of the birth canal. While a good portion of our energies are being poured into normal stuff like picking out baby furniture, discussing parenting techniques and acquiring prescriptions for medicinal marijuana (don't worry, it's for us, not him) we're also working hard to get Zoe and Luka adjusted to the idea of having a little brother.
Their mental well-being has been something I've been obsessing over for months. And while the Internet is filled with all sorts of advice, it mainly revolves around what to do when you bring the baby home (and a lot of that seems like a bunch of crap—written by people who clearly see their dogs as "pets" not their nightly competition for covers). The little bit of useful information I have found online I've melded together into my own baby preparedness plan which consists of the following:
1) Subjecting the dogs to a daily marathon of "A Baby Story" on TLC which I'm hoping will slowly get them accustomed to the sounds they'll soon hear around the clock. I'm also hoping that they'll pick up on the finer nuances of changing diapers (after all, labs need jobs to be happy and really isn't that what this is all about?).
2) Playing sound bites from a CD of babies crying on iTunes that I haven't gotten myself to actually buy—mainly because I keep my iPod on "shuffle" and I'm not quite ready for a crying baby to interfere with my enjoyment.
3) Giving Jackson the Bear overly dramatic airplane rides though the living room. This one is mainly for Luka, who tends to get a little jealous when he's not the center of attention. While affective, this activity may need to be moved to the basement due to the living room's five large picture windows and our neighbors' already shaky opinions.
And that's pretty much it. I guess it's not really so much a plan as it is a few random acts of lunacy, but that's the best I could come up with. If you've got any better ideas, let me know.
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