Happy birthday Carrie!

I know this one probably won't go down as one of the greatest birthdays for Carrie, but hopefully next year's will be one fitting the incredible person she is. She deserves the world and we (Park, Zoe, Luka and myself) plan to give it to her someday soon.

Until then, happy birthday!

Update

Yesterday afternoon we went to see the ENT who told us that I'm going to need an operation to not only remove the cyst, but the entire half of the thyroid it is attached to. This wasn't exactly the news we were expecting, in fact, we thought there was at least a possibility that they would just drain the thing in the office. Probably the most alarming part of the appointment was finding out that I'm less in the clear of cancer than I originally had thought due to the fact that I'm a male and the overall size of the cyst. The doctor gave it a one in five chance of being malignant (or as I would prefer to think of it: four in five chance it's benign).

Right now my operation is set for January 9 but it could move up. It's basically an out-patient procedure, but I may need to stay overnight for observation. If the biopsy comes back positive (I should have results in a couple of days) I would have to go back in and have the rest of my thyroid removed. If not, which I have every extremity crossed for, I should be fine and most likely wouldn't need any further treatment.

Here's hoping that the odds are in my favor.

Once again, I would just like to thank everyone for their love and support.

Talk about getting a lump in your throat.

2011 has been a pretty crappy year for us, and to cap it off, this past week has been one of the worst ones I can remember. I'm not going to go into all of the details but I will tell you that the most recent episode involved a bit of a health scare for me.

I've been dealing with a string of issues since this summer and last week saw me visiting the doctor for an EKG, a chest X-ray and a cardiac stress test due to some chest pains I had been experiencing. Everything turned out normal and it seemed to all just be a false alarm until I got a call from the doctor's office saying they saw something abnormal on my X-ray. Apparently while they were looking at my chest cavity, they noticed that my trachea was curved and were concerned. To take a closer look, they recommended I get a sonogram immediately.

This is where I began to start freaking out, thanks in large part to Google search.

So, after a very stress-filled weekend, Carrie accompanied me to my sonogram on Monday morning during which they found a large mass on my thyroid.

Commence further freaking out.

Tuesday, I spoke to the doctor's office and they said I now needed to get a CT scan, so yesterday Carrie once again accompanied me to the office. I'd never gotten a CT scan before and I've got to tell you, it's pretty scary, from the iodine drip that makes you feel like you pissed your pants (which I actually might have) to the possibility of them actually finding something, I was pretty worse for wear. Luckily I didn't have to wait too long to get the results, my doctor scheduled an appointment for later in the afternoon to go over everything.

Yes, even more freaking out.

My appointment finally rolled around and after what seemed like an eternity, my doctor finally got to the point of discussing my results. It seems that I have developed a rather large cyst on my thyroid (about baseball size, although my doctor described it as "half a basketball" which sounds more impressive, so maybe I should go with that). While that sounds pretty bad, the important word here is "cyst" as in fluid-filled which means it's very unlikely that it's cancerous which was my primary concern. My doctor was pretty amazed by it and by the fact that it doesn't seem to be effecting my breathing or eating. In fact, he was so impressed by it, he brought in the PA to look at it too (I thought about charging a nickel a touch and hiring a carnival barker).

All in all, it was great news, which should tell you a little something about just how crappy things have been for us.

I go in next week to see an ENT to determine what the course of action will be to get the thing removed. Not exactly how I wanted to spend my Christmas break, but maybe I will be able to get it all taken care of this year so that we can start 2012 on a good note. For now, we're just going to focus on giving Park the best Christmas possible.

I'd like to thank everyone who has known about everything we've been going through and has offered their love and support. It has meant the world to us. More than anything I would like to thank Carrie for being the amazing person she is and Park for being the motivation to get through it all.

Now for the photographic evidence.

Looking up.

Traditions

With Park now two, Carrie and I decided that it was time to start some family holiday traditions. There were lots of ideas thrown around, but we really didn't know what we wanted to do, then we stumbled upon this catalog that made its way into our house after a trip Park took with Grandpa Sam and Grandma Barbie to the local train shop. Actually, "stumbled upon" really isn't the right choice of words, we'd been forced to look at it every single day since Park brought it home and suddenly one day it just hit us over the head.

Like a lot of boys his age, Park loves trains. He loves to look at them, he loves to talk about them and most importantly he loves to play with them, so much so, that we can't drive by the local Barnes & Noble without him freaking out because he knows they have a Thomas train set for kids to play with inside. So it was decided, we were getting a holiday train set and each year we would add a new piece to the display. The set we ultimately decided on was the "Santa's Flyer." It comes complete with a full track and five cars including a peppermint tank car and a music box car. The biggest selling point? Scented smoke. Your choice of apple pie, Christmas tree or candy cane. We went with candy cane.

The one stipulation was that Park was not allowed to play or operate it by himself. That lasted approximately five minutes

Sew and Tell: Apron

I haven't been very good at a) sewing enough or b) showing what I sew, but here's the latest project I accomplished for Maisy's second birthday last month. What does every little future chef need in their wardrobe? That's right. An apron. Miss. Maisy was going to get a kitchen play set for her birthday so my sister asked that I make her an apron to go with it. Easy peasy. She also asked that I make a matching apron for her big sis Kailey. Not a problem. But why do these things always take more time than you think they will?

I don't have a picture of both girls wearing their aprons - it was hard enough to get the birthday girl to stand still for this photo. She was usually chasing after her cousin Park (especially because he was trying out all of her new toys). But I was happy with how these turned out and I think the color choice fit each girl perfectly. Yes, they're Wildcat fans, but I chose the fabric because it suited each personality and I thought they'd love the glitter in the solid pieces (which you really can't see in the photo).

In the process of making these, I learned that the instructions on McCall patterns are really bad. I've read sewing bloggers who prefer one brand of pattern over another, and I never got it until now. Maybe I just had a bad example, but the wording of some of the instructions didn't make sense and I questioned why I was doing certain steps. By the last three steps, I was just doing it my own way.

Happy 2nd birthday Maisy! I wish you many, many more!

Celebrating eight years and countless adventures

Eight years ago today, Craig married a much younger (and blonder) bride on the sandy beaches of Islamorada, Florida.

Eight years ago today, my boyfriend of nine years made it official.

And eight years ago today, two naive twenty-somethings had no idea how much better life would be eight years later.

Happy anniversary Craig.

Goodbye Les … and thanks.

I don't know this for certain, but I'm willing to guess that most of you reading this didn't invite a college professor to your wedding reception.

Carrie and I did.

And he came.

But to be fair, Les Anderson was more than a professor. Much more.

While neither Carrie nor I would have ever gotten a chance to know Les if we wouldn't have signed up for his Editing for Print class nearly 15 years ago, we were like many others who sat in one of Les' classes during his 35-year tenure at Wichita State who saw their relationship with Les transition from student to lifelong friend and are forever grateful. Looking back, I'm sure the 20 year-old versions of Carrie and Craig who entered Les' class years ago would be surprised by our feelings today for the man who gave us a current events quiz on the first day of class and then graded it on a 95 to 100 scale, but that's the amazing thing about Les, at times he could make your life as hard as hell, but you couldn't help but like him.

Les was a journalism guy, Carrie and I were advertising people, which meant our relationship with Les should have ended when we walked out of his class for the last time. It should have, but It didn't. During my last semester when he found out I was having trouble landing a job, he pulled me into the office and started circling names in the phone book of people he knew that I should contact and use him as a reference. One of those calls led to my first job and Carrie got her first job at an agency ran by one of his closest friends.

After we both got into the real world, our connections to Les continued. We were both regularly invited to speak to his classes, judge competitions and show our work to students, which we gladly did, not only because the appearance often came with a free lunch, but because it was a small way to pay Les back for all of the help he'd given us. Recently Carrie's relationship with Les morphed into one of colleagues through their mutual work with the Symphony in the Flint Hills. She loves working with the Symphony, but the fact that she regularly got to attend meetings and social events with Les was just icing on the cake. Being on campus also gave me a chance to see Les on a regular basis and as recently as a month ago I spent about half an hour talking to him in his office where, with a big smile on his face, he asked me things like, "how's the pup?" (referring to Park) making me feel like one of his closest friends—even though I know hundreds, if not thousands, of people felt the same way.

Les passed away unexpectedly last Saturday evening. We found out on the morning of my birthday and each of us took turns dissolving into tears and consoling one another. I wrote on Facebook that morning that I had never been more upset by the passing of someone who didn't share my DNA and it's still true. Just two weeks prior we had been to an event in honor of Les on campus where he was roasted and honored with an endowed fund in his name. It was a great evening full of skits and music. Les was funny and full of life. I recently heard that he described the event as like being at his own funeral. I'm just glad he got to experience first hand just how much he was loved, I'm not sure anyone could ask for much more.

In the days since his death, written tributes have popped up all over the Internet which only seems appropriate, I just hope he forgives me for the incomplete sentences and grammatical errors I'm sure he'd find in mine. I still can't believe he's gone. I can still see his face. I can still hear him telling the story about how Carrie and I both came to class in Elvis shirts from a recent trip to Graceland and knowing that we were meant to be together.

Carrie and I are two of the lucky ones who got to know Les (and were honored to be on his infamous Christmas card list). He's had a huge impact on our lives and we're going to miss him.




















Here's a video tribute to Les that was shown at his roast. Enjoy.

You want a piece of me?

Well, not literally … and definitely not in a fighting context (I'm too delicate). What I'm really talking about is my photography. I recently updated my website and added a page about purchasing prints. So if you have a hole in a wall or something you need covered up, drop on by and shoot me an email.

The year of the non-costume costume

Carrie and I had lots of costume ideas for Park this year, but when you're dealing with a two year old who doesn't like to have anything on his face, head, arms, legs (well, you get the picture) you eventually have to go the "less is more" route. So after months of brainstorming Park ended up being a Wichita State basketball player … meaning he basically wore a store-bought jersey. To help play off the theme a bit more, Carrie did find an Easter basket online that looked like a basketball and made fun sound effects, so at least we had that.

As far as us, we're not actually in costumes, our primary roles in life right now is as referees (or wardens, depending how you look at it).

Here's Park on the way home after downing four chocolate bars and a package of fruit snacks within a 20 minute time frame.

And here he is reenacting his trick or treating exploits.

Little Pumpkin

He spent the rest of the afternoon chucking it around the front yard.

My lungs are still seared

It's been almost exactly a month since our trip to Colorado but I'm not sure I'll ever get a chance to post something like this again so I'm not going to let the opportunity pass.

A brief disclaimer though, I didn't exactly beat out a pack of thousands … or even hundreds for that matter and this is for first place in my age division, I was actually fourth overall. Oh and one more thing, for about two hours after crossing the finish line I could taste blood in my mouth which I could only assume was the result of the slow death of my lungs after racing at 9, 075 feet.

The medal is cool though.

If you've been to the Rockies within the last couple of years, you probably have seen the havoc that pine beetles have been wrecking on the forests. The proceeds of this event went to reforestation efforts and the medals are cross sections of downed pine trees.

… and it's over.

I just approved the final spot of the university's new marketing campaign and it's currently on its way to a station near you.

Now back to life as I knew it … hopefully.

The big hair band Poison may have rocked your world in the 80s, but a certain toddler ingesting poison rocked our world last night.

It was all innocent enough. We were outside playing, enjoying visits from all the neighbor boys, spraying for the pesky mosquitoes and setting down (too carelessly) the bottle of insect repellent without thinking that it was within arm's length of Park. He has a fascination with water bottles and loves to squirt water on his face, in his mouth and on everything he comes in contact with. Fun, until that water bottle isn't filled with water.

I had turned around to pick up a toy and when I looked back at Park I knew what he had done by the expression on his face. He had his hands covering his mouth, his eyes real wide and that look of "that wasn't water in that bottle" all across his face.

Per the bottle's instructions, I had him drink some water and called poison control. Aside from the insecticide he just inhaled, the issue seemed to be more with the high alcohol content in the brand of bug spray we had. In order to keep his blood sugar from dropping, we were ordered to give him pop or apple juice and a sweet snack of cookies or ice cream ... OK, seriously, why would he NOT do this again? We were also told to watch for any stumbling or slurred speech - the last think we needed was a two-year-old drunk AND on a sugar high.

Luckily, Park seemed fine all night. And I have a feeling the only lesson learned was for mom and dad. Just when you think everything is locked up and out of reach ...

It's been a long, tough road.

Today marks the launch of the marketing campaign that has consumed virtually every waking moment (and when you don't sleep, there are no shortage of waking moments) of my life for the past four months. It's been difficult, but I'm very proud of the work.

What you'll see below are two-minute mini documentaries that will be available on the web—one-minute versions will be broadcasted on regional TV. The idea is to show how "experience-based learning" at Wichita State gives Shockers a huge leg-up on graduates from other, more traditional universities.

In the end, there will be three sets of commercials, (I'm still working on the third, so I guess I haven't quite made it to the end of the road yet) however, I'd really like to thank Carrie and Park for their support, encouragement and understanding to help me make it to this point.

Hope you like them.

So you think you can Zumba?

It's been another long month without any blog posts. We're so bad! But we've been so busy working, enjoying a vacation, chasing a toddler, preparing for a garage sale, talking ourselves out of the garage sale and trying out Zumba. Yes, Zumba.

For those of you who know me, I'm sure you're having a good laugh right now. I tried a class at the Y about a month ago but left after 10 minutes when I realized the teacher was a sub and was more white than me. Wanting to be fair to the Zumba craze, I tried out another class earlier this week and realized I found a winner before it ever started. It was in the gym instead of a studio to accommodate for the huge group of women representing every age and fitness level. And they just kept coming into the gym, giving each other high fives and wearing their Zumba-branded pants. I was so out of place.

I only have two Zumba experiences, but I can say that this teacher was amazing. She danced on a stage and never called out the steps. But every woman in that room seemed to know her next move and they were shaking their bodies like nobody's business. Yes, even at the YMCA. Utterly embarrassed and completely confused, I just about left again ... until I saw someone I knew back from high school. Mortified I actually knew someone, but also a little relieved, I sought her out and she told me it gets easier. I just have to keep going. So, here I go. Back for another lesson tomorrow. It's with the same teacher but this time it's in a smaller studio. I can't decide if being in a gym where EVERYONE could see me is worse than being confined in a small studio surrounded by mirrors so I have to watch myself.

We've been busy

It's a lame excuse for not blogging very much this summer, but it's been a busy one. And we have a lot of catching up to do.

Rather than list every little thing we've been up to, we'll just share a short clip of one thing we did a whole lot of the last couple of months. Dance. I think I can speak for Craig when I say we wish we were responsible for our kid's dance moves. But Park moves to his own beat. And we have a feeling he's going to be invited to a lot more dances than we were. Turn up the sound and enjoy.

If I'm ever on your flight, consider rebooking.

Carrie and I have terrible luck when it comes to air travel, from diverted flights due to the pilot's "medical emergency" to the airport running out of gas and being told "we'd try to make it" to another island to fill up, getting there (or back) has always been more than half of the adventure. This pattern held true last week when I traveled out to Los Angeles to film some new TV commercials. My trip started with the first flight being canceled. From there, my alternative flight was then delayed over an hour as was my connecting flight in Dallas. I finally reached the comfort of my hotel at 1 a.m. Pacific time (3 a.m. back in Wichita) with an 8 a.m. call time looming in the future. Fun. You'd think that would be it, getting home would be smooth sailing, right? Well, you'd be wrong.

On Thursday I got to the airport around 1 p.m. for my 2:20 flight and of course, it was delayed. About an hour after we were supposed to be in the air, they finally started boarding. Home free, right? Um … wrong again. Once about half of the plane was loaded an announcement was made that there was a mechanical issue and everybody would have to disembark while they fixed it, which would take about an hour. This is when panic began to set in. My connecting flight in Houston was leaving at 9:20, at the current rate, we weren't supposed to touch down until 9:45. I immediately got on the phone to my producer who connected me with their travel agent and we frantically tried to find a way to get me home and in my own bed that night. However, I quickly became resolved that it just wasn't going to happen and got booked on a back-up flight for the following morning. So, there I was standing in line with about 50 other people trying to get new boarding passes when they once again began boarding the plane. However this time there was a sense of emergency. It was now 4:15 and if the plane wasn't loaded by 4:30 the crew became "illegal." I had no idea what that meant, but I knew it must not be good, so I jumped out of line and got on board.

For the next three hours and 20 minutes I prayed my luck would continue and my connecting flight in Houston would be magically delayed. Once we touched the ground I ran to the first monitor and there it was … hallelujah, my 9:20 p.m. flight was now an 11:20 flight! It was only a little after 10:00 but my traveling companion and I immediately headed to the gate to see if we still had seats. About halfway to the gate I stopped to double check another monitor … yep 11:20. Then my co-worker checked five seconds later and in those brief moments it had switched over to 10:15. Without hesitation I pulled out my best OJ Simpson impersonation (the Hertz commercial, not the killing) and busted into a dead sprint (poor choice of words, sorry). Out of breath, I made it to the gate with literally moments to spare and luckily—a seat.

So after spending about three hours preparing myself to wash my underwear out in the sink with hotel-issue shampoo, I was headed home, finally making to my final destination a little after midnight, only an hour later than my original arrival time.

OK, so travel aside, it was a pretty cool trip. Our original location for the shoot became unavailable the day before we left, however as an alternative we shot on the Paramount lot along with several other famous sites like the Hollywood Walk of Fame and the Chinese theatre.







































































































































In between shoots and some editing, I also got to head down to Venice and Santa Monica for a little sight seeing.































To see a couple more shots I took (including some of the incredible Julius Thomas III, a WSU alum and the star of our shoot) go here.

Homecoming

Last week kicked off about two months of an insane travel schedule for us. While Craig jet-setted off to Houston for several days of glamorous work (more to come on that) and a couple days of catching up with the Lindeman clan, the kids (two-legged and four) and I headed north for cooler weather (just 8 degrees, but I'll take it!) and some quality time with the Howard and Rawson crew in Kansas City. Needless to say, we were all excited to get everyone back home for a few days before the next adventure.

Here's a sweet little video capturing father and son reuniting at the airport.

Manscaping

Two-thirds of the Lindeman boys decided to clean up their act the last couple of days and beat the heat with cool new haircuts. Luka was first in the barber chair and while you can't really tell from this picture he got himself sheared like an unruly sheep. We're thinking he's got to be a lot more comfortable and he looks 10 degrees cooler, 15 pounds lighter and three years younger. Park decided not to go quite as short, but he looks almost as cute. Next up are the girls, Carrie's going in for a trim Saturday and Zoe's got an appointment with the hose for a nice cool bath. As for me, there's not a lot to trim, but I'll probably take a swipe at it anyway.

Santa sighting

I've heard of Christmas in July, but apparently Santa comes a month earlier to Kansas. We went out to lunch on Saturday (always an adventure with a two-year-old) and the three of us were enjoying a peaceful moment where Park was actually sitting quietly and eating. All of a sudden, Park pointed to the older man at the table next us and said something I didn't catch at first. I turned to look at the man -- sporting white hair, a white beard and a belly. Just as I turned to look at Craig, it sank in what Park had said, "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Bill Cosby was right. Kids say the darndest things.

Nothing's more sad than a bum-legged Boogie

A couple of weeks ago we decided to cap off our Memorial Day staycation in Kansas City by taking the dogs for a swim at the local dog park. We'd been there several times before, but it had been a few years which, in hindsight, probably explained why Zoe was geeked up beyond control. That said, between the thick mud around the banks of the pond and her never-say-quit mentality, she ended up a bit gimpy. By the end of the day she was hopping around on three legs and I had resulted to carrying her up and down the stairs. The vet took a look at her the next day and determined that she had most likely twisted her knee and recommended some anti-inflamatories and pain meds as a first round of treatment before we subjected her to X-rays. All of that was fine and dandy until he told us that she was going to have to lay low (meaning no walks or playtime) for a couple of months. A COUPLE OF MONTHS! If you know anything about Zoe you know that playing is her life, even at nine she won't stop until you make her, so to say it's been a little difficult has been an understatement. Denying her a game of fetch or watching her face as I leave the house with Luka on a walk has been brutal. However it's something we have to do if we want it to heal properly and avoid surgery somewhere down the line—assuming it's not already that serious. So please send her your positive vibes (or lavish treat bouquets) for a speedy recovery.

A two year-old's strategy to beat the heat.

One leaky hose = water park (pun intended).

Pacifiers are for babies

Just a quick update on how it's been going since we pulled the plug on Friday and took the pacifier/binky/yia yia away for good. Honestly, we're both relieved at how well it's gone.

I tried to explain to Park that he was a big boy and it was time to give the yia yias away to a baby that really needed them. I wasn't sure if he understood, but every once in a while he'll say "yia yia ... baby" with this sweet tone that shows he likes babies and he's doing them a BIG favor. (Mom needs to live up to that story and donate some new pacifiers to the local women's shelter before the guilt gets any worse.)

Surprisingly, Park isn't asking for the pacifiers at bedtime, but the first couple nights he would get this terrified look on his face and cry some massive sad tears when putting him to bed. He seemed genuinely scared. And he had us second-guessing ourselves and questioning why we were taking the one thing away (besides mom) that can soothe him. But we held firm and it has gotten better. The naps aren't the rockstar naps like he's been doing, but I'm hoping those get back to normal, too.

Next up: preventing tantrums and putting an end to whining and/or screaming in public

Parenting is never boring.

Hot to Trot

The smell of funnel cakes, nachos, fried mozzarella, fried pickles and fried tacos lingers in the air. People from all walks of life come out to gather in one place. And parents torment their offspring by making them run in 100 degrees for a photo op. Oh yes, it's River Fest time.

The River Run falls on the first day of the week-long event and it's something Craig and I have enjoyed in the past. This year, we decided to save our energy (and the entry fee) and let Park show off his mad running skills in the Tot Trot. Like novice parents, we waited to register just 30 minutes prior to the event so that Park could get hot and tired before the big race. Honestly, I think it let him size up the competition and 20-yard course.

Here's Park taking a moment to focus and mentally prepare for what's coming after a pre-run drink of luke warm water.


So if you haven't experienced this mayhem before, it works like this: They start with the two-year-olds (that's Park) and have them line up 20 yards from the finish line with a parent/running coach. In my brief experience, this included pushy parents urging their kid to get the very best spot in front. (Might as well start getting used to this.)

Fine by us. There were way too many kids to attempt this insanity at one time, so we went in the third heat with the serious runners. Seriously, click on the photo and check out the girl to the right of Park in pink shorts listening to jock jams on her matching pink headphones on her (matching pink?) iPod. Cute but crazy!


By the time they got to us, Park was overwhelmed by the heat and crowds and could care less about the oversized t-shirt and shiny medal. While this looks like a sweet good luck hug, it was actually him wanting to be picked up and carried.


No, I did not carry him to the finish line. But we did take a leisurely stroll together and found Craig waiting for us with a medal that he refused to wear. (I can't blame him, it was the 2-mile/10k medal they gave the adults.)


The photos really don't do the event justice. Here's not-so-great video from my perspective.


Crazy parents looking for a good photo op. Next time we'll save the money and just take the dogs for a walk around the block ... and come down to River Fest for a funnel cake.

Yia Yia Be Gone!

Pacifier. Binky. Yia Yia (as Park calls it). Whatever it is, it's officially gone in our house. (Ok, there is actually a stash hidden just in case nobody gets any sleep this weekend, but as of now, no more pacifier for Park. Nada. Never. Not gonna happen.)

Why is it we force these lifesavers on our newborns but then yank them away once they're attached to them?

Park has only been using his for nap time and bedtime, but the last few nights he's been waking up at all hours and crying for someone to come in and hand him his pacifier ... that's sitting right by him. He's become great at throwing them out of his bed just to get our attention. And. We're. Tired. Of. It.

So, I thought this process would be more fun on the weekend when Craig would be home to really experience it. I'd hate to deprive him of a tired, cranky and pacifier-deprived kid around nap time. (You're welcome, sweetie!) I conveniently had a lunch meeting today so Craig got to put the little guy down for the first time without his mouth piece. Supposedly, Craig tried to reason with the boy and explain that a crib full of stuffed animals was SO much better than a pacifier. It worked ... for about 10 minutes. He's been crying for 20. But it just got quiet.

Here's hoping for some quiet nights this weekend and a pacifier-free house come Monday. What yia yia?

Yes sir, that's our baby

Actually, at two-years-old, Park looks nothing like a baby. And aside from the whining that comes with the age, he acts nothing like a baby, either. Park has embraced toddlerhood with full gusto. These days the little guy is into chasing the dogs around the yard, wrestling with dad, running through sprinklers, testing his parents' patience, cuddling with mom when he's tired or just needs a break, eating everything (especially hummus), repeating what we say (and do), putting two to three words together, admiring ducks, testing our patience some more, playing with his cars, locking us out of the house (that's a story for another post), singing and dancing, and becoming a backseat driver ("go!"). Wow, life was incredibly boring before we had him.

Here is just a sample of the photos from his two-year photo shoot with the very talented Jenna Unruh of Unruh Photography. She's a friend, a workout buddy, a mom of a little one and a magician. We seriously expected - no, hoped - to get just one good photo from our session with her. Park was more interested in the location than he was posing for the camera. But that just makes these photos more real and a true reflection of Park at two.

Ku Ku for KuKuRuZa

I had a pleasant surprise waiting for me on our porch last week. (Honestly, I was going on two weeks of caring for a sick toddler so really anything would've been a pleasant surprise.) Along with the usual bills, junk and catelogs, our mail included a box addressed to me with a return address in Seattle from a cooky little gourmet popcorn company. KuKuRuZa.

It's no surprise I'm a fan of popcorn. Growing up, we named our first family dog (a fluffy white peek-a-poo) "Popcorn." As a kid, popcorn was a sixth food group (just kidding, mom) and I remember making it for every sleepover and movie-watching or just-hanging-out occasion. Sadly, my sister got a nasty burn from making it on the stove once. I played it safe and stuck with the microwave or air-popped variety. But KuKuRuZa is a bag of gourmet popcorn goodness all its own.

About two weeks ago, Craig and I ventured off our usual TV course of Piers Morgan or House Hunters and landed on the Cooking Channel. They were showing tasty little companies, including this crazy brand of popcorn with flavors like s'mores, bruschetta and jalapeno cheese. They had me at "s'mores."

Ahh, s'mores. Between summer camps and youth group events it was practically a seventh food group growing up. I have a friend who incorporated them into her wedding rehearsal dinner and I was jealous I couldn't steal her idea. I also introduced Craig to his first s'more over the grill on our trip to Colorado last summer. But I never would have thought about putting s'mores AND popcorn together. BRILLIANT!

Craig picked up on my excitement during the cooking show. I guess I was so wrapped up in what was going on at home with the sick kid that I completely forgot about the discovery ... making the package a bigger shock when it came in the mail.

Sweet husband. Sweet bowl of popcorn. (Thank goodness the nutritional information isn't printed on the bag.) I can't wait to try another variety -- maybe next time I'll share.

Happy Adoption Day Luka!

Today marks the fifth anniversary of the day we brought Luka home from the Kansas Humane Society. While Carrie wasn't able to bake up something from scratch to celebrate the occasion like she did for Zoe's birthday a couple of months ago (she's had her hands full taking care of a sick and clingy Park) I picked up some carob-mint cupcakes and a new tug toy to show the little guy that we're glad he's part of our family.

The moral dilemmas of being a socially/environmentally conscious dad

It's probably no secret to you that I have some pretty passionate feelings about the world in which we live. I'll openly admit that I'm a tree hugger, a bleeding heart and yes … a liberal. I'm also a dad. A dad who takes his role extremely seriously and by that I mean there is nothing more important in this world than the happiness of my son.

Unfortunately at times, those two things are at odds. From plastic toys to animal shows, almost every day I'm faced with moral dilemmas regarding how Carrie and I are raising Park. It's a fine line between walking the walk and depriving our son. Compromises have to be made and sometimes it's hard … both ways. In the end, the goal is to raise Park to be the person we want him to be and give him a chance to live in the world we think he deserves. Sure, we know we probably won't have a huge impact on that last part, but by raising Park with an awareness of the world around him, maybe he will (and will be happy in the process).

Mother's Day

Like a lot of things lately, Mother's Day didn't exactly go as planned this year - kind of like Park's birthday, his birthday cake (a future post on that!) and his two-year photo shoot (why did I ever think a two-year-old would sit still for a photo?). I guess it's a good thing we're learning to be flexible and just roll with it.

Plan A: Craig got up before the sun (on a weekend!) to get in his long run. By the time Park and I were up, we found a beautiful orchid and card waiting for us (well, me) saying to wait on him and we'd kick-off the day going out to breakfast. Yum. Just as soon as I started salivating about having anything but the usual cereal, I got a call from Craig from the road that breakfast would have to wait for another time. He woke up not feeling so great but took a chance with his run and thought it might make him feel better. Not quite. After he made it home, he went straight to bed and we didn't see him for several hours.

Plan B: Instead of the hot cakes, french toast, hash browns or some other sinful breakfast I could treat myself to, I had the usual feast of cereal and fruit at home and gathered up the kids for a walk.



Determined not to sleep through the whole day, Craig gained enough strength to join Park and I for lunch (he deserves an Oscar for acting like he felt good). After a successful lunch without the toddler yelling or crawling out of his chair (yea!), we stopped by the park to visit the baby ducks and the slide.



Following Park's 3 1/2 hour nap (best mother's day gift ever!), we wrapped up the day with another enjoyable dinner out and some play time. Ok, so the long nap was a really nice treat, but I also love how Park is at an age where he wants to help me. Let's hear it for sweeping the driveway and watering the yard where I'm determined to grow grass! Gotta enjoy that while it lasts.





Really, I didn't care what we did yesterday. I was just happy to spend it with the little guy that makes my role as a mom the most rewarding and challenging adventure I've ever experienced. But next year? I'm taking Craig up on that offer for breakfast.

Choo choo! Look who's two!

It feels weird to say we're parents of a two-year-old. How can that be? It seems like just yesterday we brought this little guy home from the hospital, when in reality, just yesterday we celebrated his second birthday. I know what they say about time flying, but sometimes I just wish it would slow down a bit. Then again, life with a toddler is anything but slow.

While the weather may have ruined all of our birthday plans (which included a picnic at the park to see the ducks and a visit to the zoo for a train ride), we didn't let that keep us from celebrating in grand toddler fashion.

Cars.
Trains.
A dunking contest.
A walk with the dogs.
The annual tradition of tree planting.
How much birthday fun could one little boy take in a day? We found out - quite a lot.

The boy is slightly obsessed with cars (or really anything with wheels) so we started off the day playing cars and surprising him with a parking garage that goes with the road/rail set we started at Christmas. I considered it a big hit since he couldn't tear himself away to watch his favorite show, "Dinosaur Train."



And speaking of trains, I had made train cakes the night before for us to decorate together. So much for that idea. After taking two bites of a cake and sampling a few of the candy decorations, he was done. I tried my best to channel my inner-Martha Stewart but she must have been on vacation.



Does it really matter what the cake looks like when there's icing?



Craig may have a little coaching to do now that Park is running full speed and testing his athletic abilities. After a good nap, Park was ready to take dad on for a little one-on-one basketball. While he's a pro at dunking, Park hasn't figured out how to shoot just yet. (I see a Shocker jersey in his future.)



Life has sure changed dramatically since Park joined our family two years ago. We are so stinkin' lucky.