Candy construction at its finest

It looks good enough to eat … but I wouldn't, due to that whole "seeing how sausage is made" thing. Carrie and Park whipped up this edible edifice last weekend at the Gingerbread Village fundraiser here in Wichita (I did one too, but they kept it to display).

We were introduced to the event several years ago when we were still relatively young and child-free by our then-neighbors/friends/adopted family the Crowduses, so when we landed some tickets this year we called them up to see if they would want to accompany once us again now that we actually have a reason to be there. When they said yes, we figured we'd probably score just a couple of them due to individual schedules that rival the commander in chief's, however when a caravan of cars pulled up and every last Crowdus poured out—along with a couple of extra friends for good measure (not sure if I need to put Zoe's friend in quotation marks or not) we were shocked.

Once inside we had a great time, especially Park who got to follow around his idol Max and his friend Zach who were both absolutely incredible with him. As for Carrie and I, we had just as much fun hanging out with Erick, Stacey, Wesley, Zoe, Lily and Max. Erick and Stacey kind of took us under their wing when we moved across the street from them as an un-married, new home-owning couple and the kids became our playmates who we have watched grow up and for whom we now kind of feel like a pseudo aunt and uncle. We don't get to see them nearly as much as we'd like (see above scheduling conflicts) so it was great when we got the extra surprise of being able to go to lunch with them. It was probably the first meal in … I can't remember how long, that Carrie and I didn't have to attend to Park. He sat at the far end from us at an 11-person table and couldn't have cared less if we were there at all—at one point I was getting a drink across the crowded restaurant from our table and I could clearly hear him laughing above all of the noise. When all was said and done and it was time to leave, Park, who had a chance to go with them to a basketball game but declined out of "shyness," was pretty upset.

Luckily he's three, so all it took was the sight of a few ducks to make his world right again.

Trust us, Park is smiling on the inside.

Best of Show?

Park's Halloween attire caught the eye of the people over at Ruth's Homeworks who named it their favorite costume of the year and asked to add him to their list of local handymen.

For transparency purposes, it's probably important to note that Carrie used to work with Sarah Gilbert, the woman behind Ruth's Homeworks, but we prefer to think he was selected on his own merits.

Give it a "like" on Facebook.

Nailed it.

It's hard to believe, but last night was Park's fourth Halloween and the first one during which he actually mouthed the words "trick or treat" (although at times there was an uncomfortably long delay between the person opening the door and the actual utterance of the phrase—making us seem more like loiters than Halloween enthusiasts).

Anyway, as hopefully you can tell, Park was a construction worker. While that may seem pretty simple, it took us roughly four months to get there thanks to the attention span of, well … a three year old, that never really allowed us to determine what he was going to be. In fact, as late as two weeks ago when we asked Park what he wanted to be, we were surprised to hear "the Easter Bunny." Luckily, he came back to the construction worker (or as Park calls it "a worker man") idea we were already planning on. 

As far as our route, we decided to stay close to home to check out the new neighborhood and hopefully meet some of our neighbors … and we did, we met the only two other trick or treaters we saw maybe four or five times. Unfortunately there were a lot of unanswered doors, however the ones that did open up were very nice and were more than happy to unload some candy on Park, he even brought home a tube of tooth paste.

All in all, I think he had fun, and to be honest, I don't think he could have handled much more.

Oh, and by the way, Carrie and "the fetus" also dressed up. Here they are with Park.

And if you couldn't tell what's on Park's hat, here it is. He really wanted a construction cone to be part of his costume, so I found a way to give him one.

We want to hear from you.

A couple of weeks ago I changed our blog so that if you wanted to leave a comment you had to sign in. I did this for a couple of reasons, but mostly because we were getting a lot of "anonymous" comments that were written as if we should automatically know who they were from, but more often than not we didn't. I had hoped my little tweak would solve the problem, but it created a new one—people stopped commenting all together. I did a little checking and I'm guessing the drop off was due to a lot of people not having Google accounts. So rather than asking everyone to do something they may not want to do, I'm switching it back so that you don't have to sign in. That said, please comment when you feel like it and if you can, sign your name. We love hearing from you, it helps us not feel like we're talking to ourselves (we do enough of that when we're not on the computer).

Thanks,

The management

Bragging rights

Since Craig is too modest to brag about his marathon of an achievement Sunday, I will.

The marathon scene is nothing new to Craig. And unfortunately, being injured during training and the actual race was nothing new either. But Sunday, his third marathon and his first attempt at the one in Wichita, was different.

Throughout the 18 weeks of training, Craig was plagued with one injury or another ... or a whole bunch at once. I'm pretty sure his IT band was causing him issues before he ever started. In fact, I think he waited to register up until the last minute to see if his IT band was up for the challenge. Then there was the calf ... make that two calves that tightened up several weeks ago. The achilles. The groin. And don't forget the shoulder (not actually caused by running, but it counts.). While all of this was bad enough, the poor guy caught Park's cold three days before the race. The guy had it bad. But he still ran.

So, with kinesio tape covering his outer and upper thigh, calves and ankles, and compression socks for extra support, Craig set out to conquer 26.2 miles on Sunday with two goals in mind (one he would talk about - 4 hours - and another he kept to himself).

At the starting line, with 4,600 other runners, Craig joined up with a pace group for the first time to see if he could achieve the "secret" goal of 3:45. Oh, the stories he had from that ... like one of the pacers dropping out of the group at mile 6. Thank goodness there was a back-up. But he stayed with the group, and Craig's fan club (Park, grandpa Sam, grandma Barbie and I) were thrilled to see him looking strong along the way.

While running a marathon is no easy feat, being a spectator has it's own challenges, too. There's the stress of making sure you get to the next viewing point before the runner, meandering around closed roads and holding up signs. We had lots of fun (and were as exhausted as Craig afterward)!

In the end, the pain and exhaustion was worth it. I couldn't have been more proud of the two guys in my life -- Craig for achieving a huge challenge with the odds stacked against him and Park for admiring his daddy so much that he told me he wanted to run a race, too.

For those of you keeping track, Craig finished just a few minutes later than his public goal at 4:07. Yes, he's disappointed. Really disappointed. But he has nothing to be down about. He had his personal best and beat the odds. And not only was he walking upright afterwards, he got a bitchin' blood blister to show off with his medal.

Congratulations, Craig! We couldn't be prouder of you.

Carrie

On the route? Give me a shout.

That is if I can make it three days without my cold progressing or getting hurt any more hurt.

Planes, trains and … well, I guess that was it.

Last weekend we took advantage of having Hagen and Cheryl in town (Curt had to stay behind and work) to celebrate my dad's birthday a few days early. We kicked things off with our weekly trip to the Benton Airport for lunch then headed back to the new house for some surprise festivities.

But before we could get started a little swinging was in order.

Then things kicked up a notch when we moved over to the tire swing.

At some point this seemed like a good idea.

Then the kids surprised Grandpa with his present—a trip next year to Colorado to ride a train through the Rockies (which means we have 12 months to listen to him talk about it).

After that, there was some singing.

And a birthday kiss (luckily that came before she got to the cake).

Home Sweet Home

Our time on Jacqueline is drawing to an end and while we're excited to start the next chapter in our lives, it's also a sad time for us … especially me … because I'm an overly emotional, highly sensitive sap. (Seriously, I can get choked up leaving a hotel room.)

All emotions aside, our house has been a great house. We've put a lot of work into it over the years and it's rewarded us with a bone-dry basement, a rock-solid foundation and an invisible no-vacancy sign for any wayward rodent to see.

Carrie and I bought the house before we were ever even married and I honestly believe it brought us closer together and probably sped up the inevitable—which after 10 years was quite a feat. The first night we officially became homeowners, we (Carrie, Zoe and I) slept on the living room floor on a pile of blankets and played with Zoe's glow ball in the empty, pitch-black basement. The house wasn't perfect, but we knew we could make it our own. For months we lived with my parents while working on it every night after work, sometimes until two or three in the morning. We didn't really know what we were doing, but we figured it out by trial and error, with a major emphasis on the error. Most nights, it was just the two of us, a can of paint and Willie Nelson. Over time, the gold-flecked sinks and flowered vinyl flooring slowly disappeared and the home we had in our heads became a reality. It took years, but we eventually got to every room, some more than once, and the results made us really proud, not just because we liked the way it looked, but because we did it ourselves.

Over the past decade the house has hosted a slew of family members (including some who are no longer here), it's introduced us to a few people who we now think of as family and helped us welcome two new members to our own nuclear family—one with a tail and one without. It's been a house filled with music and laughter and tears. We've danced in its hallways, wrestled on its floors and run through its yard. It's been a part of us … it's been home.

Now it's time for someone else to create their own memories in it, I just hope they love it as much as we have—and that they keep my hedges trimmed nice and neat.

Here's a drawing my brother and sister-in-law had created when we first got married.

And here's a few shots of the inside. 

Not quite like giving birth, but …

Here's the latest TV spot I have been working on for WSU.

It's a …

Sorry for the excessive nose rubbing, apparently it's allergy season again and, by the way, Park really wasn't trying to drag the announcement out, the fact that it was a baby and not a cow or a lion was pretty big news too.

17 weeks and counting

After a quick run through the sprinkler last night, Park took a moment to stop long enough and give a big brotherly hug to his mom's growing belly and his future sister or brother. He still insists it's a girl. (We'll find out on Wednesday.) And we'll soon find out if his hugs for his sibling will continue when the little one arrives next year.

From the archive

When we were in San Diego a couple of months ago Carrie walked into Hagen's room to discover that the Junkyard Dog was taking on the Fabulous Moolah in the top card of Wrestlemania XXVIII. Luckily I grabbed my cell phone in just enough time to catch the end of what I was told was an epic match.

Another Big Black Dog on the Big Blue Sea

 Reminds me of someone I used to know.

Unofficial

But I'll take it.

Slowly but surely I'm getting there … now if my knee will just hold up (I felt like I was shot around mile 10).

Future focused.

It's probably no big surprise that I've been thinking about the future a lot lately, after all, in just six short months Carrie and I are going to be bringing a new life into this world—one we hope will someday live to see the beginning of the 22nd century.

While the thought of that is incredibly exciting, it's also really, really scary.

It's scary because I don't really know what I'm signing him or her up for.

If you've been reading this blog for very long you know that I've been concerned about climate change for quite a while, but it took the reality of becoming a dad for a second time to really stoke my fire (only figuratively of course, otherwise I would be contributing to the problem). Seeing that flickering black and white image on the monitors the other day and then hearing a voice on the radio saying "climate change may or may not dramatically alter our lives, but it's sure to alter the lives of our children," just made me feel sick. Sure, worst case scenarios are worst case scenarios, but if we keep going down the path we're on, the possibilities for the future don't look pretty. Instead of wars over oil and religion are my kids going to be fighting over water and habitable land? I see Park stuck inside on sunny summer day because it's too hot to go out and play and wonder what it will be like for his kids.

The whole climate change denial thing seems a lot like the way smokers used to look at lung cancer. I remember people debunking science reports linking cigarettes and lung cancer simply because they weren't 100% conclusive. They just kept puffing away, either ignoring the data or focusing on the 1% chance that the spots on their lungs were the result of some mysterious natural cause. To me, that's what we're doing, we're looking at the blotchy X-rays and staring down the possibility of a life strapped to an oxygen tube and just rolling the dice. I'd much rather play the odds. If someone says there might be hungry bears on the trail up ahead and it might help to tie some bells to my shoes, you better bet I'm tying those damn bells to my shoes, after all what's the harm?

I guess that's what I'm getting at, whether you believe the earth is warming or not (it is) and whether or not you think we're to blame (we are) what harm does it do to make some changes that might make life better for ourselves and future generations? I'm just frustrated of sitting around watching temperatures—and water levels—go up while no one does anything thanks to partisan politics and the bloated bottom lines of an archaic industry.

Whew … sorry about that.

I feel better now.

Busting at the seams

It may only be July, but so far we have had quite the year. Since January, Craig has had two surgeries and one cancer scare, we had two other cancer scares in the family and one cancer diagnosis, a frightening ER/hospital stay for my dad following surgery to remove the cancer from his colon and I said goodbye to my grandma just last week.

It's time for some positive news, right?

We're having a baby! And as if that wasn't exciting and terrifying enough, we went out and bought a new house on Friday.

First things first. I'll be 13 weeks along tomorrow and look bigger than some women carrying full-term. I'm already sporting the comfy maternity clothes (can not wait for Thanksgiving!) and our three-year-old insists he's going to have a sister. (We'll have a better idea about that later in August.) The due date is January 31, which goes with our motto that 2013 is going to kick 2012's butt. (It will most definitely kick ours as we go back to sleepless nights and the exhausting demands of a newborn.) 

As for the house, it wasn't anything we had planned to buy last week and it happened much faster than Craig and I are comfortable with when it comes to making BIG decisions. We have been outgrowing our current house and knew that things would be extra tight come January, so we've been casually watching what comes on the market. This particular property caught my eye a few weeks ago and we've been thinking about it ever since. It just took someone else putting an offer on it to make us jump. Now, we're frantically getting our house of 9 1/2 years ready to put on the market and coming to terms with the changes that are in store. It's sad but exciting.

The house is in east Wichita -- farther east than we are now. Coincidentally, it's in the neighborhood where a good friend of mine lived growing up. This same friend is someone that I got to see last week while she was visiting family in town ... AND we were spending the evening with her and her husband 9 1/2 years ago -- the same day we purchased the house we're in now. Craig said I can't hang out with her anymore if it's going to result in the purchase of another house.

Here's a sneak peek at the exterior of the house:

And here's one of our favorite features: the backyard view (which will soon be slightly obstructed with an iron fence to keep the kids and dogs from swimming with the ducks)

If you don't hear much from us over the next month, you now know why. We promise to share more updates soon and hope you'll come visit us after we've moved in. Oh, and if you (or someone you know) is in the market for a great house in east Wichita, we have just the place for you!

Horse Whisperer

Over the past couple of months, I've spent more time around horses than I have in my entire life. Last month Park and I spent a morning at Deanna Rose Farmstead in Overland Park and then a couple of weeks later we hit another farm/petting Zoo when we were out in San Diego. Before that, my only real contact with a horse was during an ill-fated horseback ride in Colorado and a horse aptly named Slowpoke. Recently, it's been my work at the university that has had me hanging out at the stables. As part of our Do More. Be More. campaign focusing on experience-based learning opportunities at Wichita State, we've been filming a woman who runs an organization called Horses to Humans that uses horses in equine-assisted psychotherapy to help people overcome everything from depression to PTSD. It's really pretty fascinating stuff. But the cool thing for me is that I've gotten to interact with horses like I never have before. So much so, that the other day when we were shooting, a horse named Patsy took such a liking to me I had to actually leave the area because all she would do was follow me around. All of this seems to come at a perfect time as Park is completely fascinated by virtually every barnyard animal and asks me 101 questions every time I come home from a shoot. As time has gone on, I've done my homework before leaving the stables—asking each horse's name as well as several other vital statistics that we can go over together during our pre night-night talks.

Here are a couple of the shots I've taken during the TV shoot.

Bounty

At the beginning of the summer my dad came across a new strain (or at least new to us) of tomatoes called "Park's Whopper" so of course he had to pick some up. The one he potted and gave to us has been residing on our front porch ever since and Park has faithfully been watering it, anxiously waiting to see some red.

The other day, we decided we had waited long enough and it was finally time to harvest. Fifteen seconds later, we had ourselves one, slightly rotted, racquetball-sized tomato.

We're setting up a booth at the farmer's market this weekend.

Get there early.

I guess it could be worse.

Trying to remember what 65 degrees felt like

We've been back from San Diego for a couple of weeks now, and as we enter the fourth or fifth day of 100+ degree temperatures here in Kansas, it seems like the perfect time to recap our trip in hopes that our memories of chilly, salt-tinged air will provide comfort the next time we step outside and have our faces licked by flames.

Don't get me wrong, Southern California is not without its own weather-related nightmares, the dreaded "June gloom" is nothing to be taken lightly. The intestinal fortitude the people of San Diego have to summon in order to make it through a month of partly cloudy days is nothing short of inspirational—how these people make it out of bed each morning to boogie board is beyond me.

However, bolstered by the undeniable will of its residents, we too were able to overcome this proverbial (and literal) cloud hanging over our vacation and actually enjoy ourselves. For Park, the excitement surrounding our vacation started as soon as we were dropped of at the airport as apparently he's now at an age where flying is a whole new, fun-filled experience. From watching planes taxi down the runway to enjoying a little in-flight reading, he had the time of his life. To make the flight out even more fun we were seated across from another three-year-old who would jokingly scream "We're gooooooooona CRASH!" after each bump of turbulence. Carrie, however (who no longer considers herself a "good flyer") was not amused.

Once in California it was full-speed ahead. Reunited with his cousin Hagen, Park was ready to take in everything San Diego had to offer. Here's a few day-by-day highlights of how the trip went down.

Day 1
We started our first full day of vacation by visiting a small, residential farm where we fed some horses and goats while being accosted by an overly aggressive turkey.

From there we went strawberry picking, or as Hagen and Park would call it "strawberry eating." However at roughly $8.50 an ounce, I'm pretty sure the strawberry people still came out ahead.

Day 2
Ever since my mom and dad came back from San Diego in February, Park has insisted that we  closely examine the map of the zoo they brought back for him every night before bed. And by every night, I mean EVERY. SINGLE. NIGHT. So, we felt kind of obligated to donate enough plasma to afford the price of admission.

Day 3
Two days in and we finally made it to the beach, however in Park's opinion we could have waited a little while longer … like a couple of years. To put it simply, he wasn't a big fan. While Hagen rolled around in the sand and leaped through the waves, Park sat on the beach, refusing to take his shoes off.

He did however finally enjoy it a little bit from the comfort of his mom's arms.

Day 4
The highlight of day four was another trip down south, this time to La Jolla, where we went to see some Harbor Seals who had taken over a local beach. It was pretty cool, however Park did not appreciate the smell and preferred to watch from afar.

Day 5
On our last morning in Solana Beach we took a little stroll around town, soaking in every last second of Southern California living.

A Busload O' Birthday Fun

While the twos definitely lived up to their reputation at times, life with Park over the past year has been some of the most fun Carrie and I have had as parents. Over the course of 12 months we've watched him become … well, Park. We've laughed together, we've carried on conversations together and we've gotten a chance to explore the world together. Along the way, he's developed his own personal tastes and interests, so when it came time to plan his third birthday party we just tried to roll everything he's grown to love into one afternoon of pure joy.

Pretty early on in the planning process, we decided it might be fun to keep all of the day's events a surprise, both for him and the members of our family who were planning on attending. So, in lieu of another slightly over-the-top party invitation, we opted for something a little more subtle and non descriptive.

While the tickets did raise a few questions among those who received them, I don't think anyone was tipped off that they were actually holding a little clue to the party's first, and biggest, surprise. You see, like most boys his age, Park is fascinated by pretty much anything on wheels, that's especially true for buses—school buses to be precise. So we went out and got him one for the day.

As you might be able to tell, this wasn't your average, run-of-the-mill, state-issued school bus, no, Park needed something with a little more style. Luckily, Carrie has become friends with Ivan Moore who happens to own the Unified Party Bus and he hooked us up. To see more of the bus, click here.

After the initial excitement over the bus settled down, everyone grabbed individual, specially prepared lunch sacks filled with snacks and hopped on board. And like that, we were off to parts unknown. Along the way, Park was treated to a personalized soundtrack containing all of his favorite songs ranging from "Party Rock Anthem" and the "Cha Cha Slide" to "Thank God I'm a Country Boy" and Starship's "We Built This City" (damn you Kermit).

After about 20 minutes, the party bus pulled up to its first stop, Cox Farms in south Wichita, where they had a hay bale maze, a petting zoo (something Park has really, really gotten into … especially if it has a few baby goats), a cow-milking game and a special "cow train"—which, to our surprise, many of the adults seemed to enjoy as well.

From there, we headed back across town to our house, but not before a stop at the local fire station to get an up-close look at the trucks (although apparently the big one was off on a "food run") and meet a real-life fireman. Park soaked it all up, examining everything from the truck's tires to its shiny chrome, but when the fireman offered to let him sit in the driver's seat and wear his hat he became the shy little boy we only see on rare occasions. So with the clock winding down on our time with the party bus, we loaded back up and headed home to open presents before dinner.

As for dinner, that was really the only hiccup we faced in our party planning process. We had intended to take everyone out to a small airport in Benton, Kansas where you get to eat on the tarmac and watch the planes take off and land (obviously people stuffing their pie holes with chicken wings is not high on TSA's "threat list") however we found out the day before that it was "Benton Days" and we were unlikely to actually get a place to sit down. So we moved on to  "plan B," a pizza place with outdoor seating and an area where the three younger cousins could run and play, which they did for nearly two hours.

Finally as the party was winding down it was time for Park's final surprise—his cake. For months Carrie and I had been asking him what he'd like to have on his cake and every time we got the same answer "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Yeah, our kid wanted Santa on his birthday cake.

Not that we would ever try to talk him out of it (well at least I wouldn't) but now and then we'd suggest alternatives like Scooby Doo, a rocket ship or maybe even a dinosaur and all we ever got was "Ho! Ho! Ho!" Carrie even tried to get creative and asked Park if he wanted anything else with Santa on his cake and, thinking she had a breakthrough, Park replied yes … he wanted a reindeer too.

So here you go, Park's third birthday cake created by Lindsey Lou Cakes.

(If you can't read it, it says "Ho Ho Hope You Have a Happy Birthday Park" and by the way, it was delicious).

We'd like to thank everyone who came to the party, especially those who traveled in from out of town, because while the bus, the farm, the fire station and the cake put a smile on Park's face, nothing could match his excitement over having all of his favorite people in one place.

March in review

We haven't blogged much lately, which I guess isn't really news to you.

Not to make excuses, but we've kind of had our hands full—especially Carrie who's been busy taking care of the house and all of its inhabitants, assuming lawn work duties and working for a growing list of freelance clients. So consider this an apology and a sincere promise that we'll try to do better (but not a promise that we'll actually succeed).

In the meantime, here are a few of the things we've been up to the past month and a couple of shots I've taken. (To see the rest, go here.)

1) We took Park to see Sesame Street Live and learned that passing on the $10 ballon in lieu of a trip to the souvenir stand isn't exactly the most budget-conscious decision.

2) Carrie went country in her work for Nashville recording artist Logan Mize. After weeks of writing news releases, organizing TV appearances and setting up interviews, Logan's newest CD skyrocketed up the iTunes charts and his local concert was packed to the rafters with adoring fans. While you can't attribute all of this to Carrie's work, I will.

3) During a trip to Kansas City we attended a birthday party for our niece Kailey that featured an afternoon of laser tag and we inadvertently discovered that Carrie might be a bully. To put it simply there was enough trash talking and taunting of 11-year-old boys to make me concerned about Park's future.

4) I had surgery and got to know every inner thought of my temporary roommate Marv. Also, hernia surgery is a lot more uncomfortable—both physically and emotionally—than having half of your throat cut out (however if ever given the choice, I'd recommend you go with the hernia).

5) Park kept the holiday spirit alive by filling our head's with the Wiggle's Christmas—which he played on an endless loop on the iPad (thanks Mimi).

Here, let me share the joy.

And now for a couple of photos.