Category Archives: Family

It’s Traditional

As Christmas approaches, we prepare, as most parents do, to pass along Christmas to our kids.  I suppose it sounds a bit odd to pass on Christmas, but the season is typically so complex for most families that I do not think that any other words describe what we do.  When I was a kid, it seemed as if we prepared for Christmas for months.  In elementary school, we glued together enormous paper chains that wound all through our classroom and into the halls.

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I grew up in Pennsylvania near Lake Erie so we usually got snow early and heavy.  In my memory, almost every Christmas was a white Christmas.  Sometimes, it seemed as if we had a white Halloween.  Anyhow, the buildup to Christmas to my child-eyes was immense and exciting and just as it was supposed to be according to all of the Christmas carols, which of course, we listened too all of the time.

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At home, we strung together strings of popcorn and cranberries to wind around our Christmas tree.  We threw way too much tinsel all over the tree and made every type of cookie imaginable.  I remember picking different varieties of cookies from a large black water-bath canner which was packed full of cookies (talk about a dream cookie jar!).

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On Christmas Eve, my family went to my aunt and uncle’s house where our family gathered for what seemed like a fairly formal meal (though, as I now think back on it, the meal was not formal, just different from what we normally did at home).  My brother and I ate every last bit of candy we could find laying around in the numerous candy dishes around the house.  The meal seemed to never end as we anticipated opening the large pile of gifts that were always under the tree.

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Once we finally got home, we hurried off to bed so Santa could come.  The rule in our house was that no one could leave their bedroom until 6am.  I truly do not know how we survived the time between waking and 6am.  Surely a cosmic quantum time shift happened which caused time to slow to 1/20th normal speed.  Anyhow, we raced to the living room to see what was under the tree.  It’s funny but Santa never wrapped our presents.  I don’t think my brother and I ever noticed that Mom and Dad never gave us presents…all the presents were from Santa.

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So, flash forward to now.  My wife, of course, had her own set of traditions in her growing up.  When we married, it was not terribly hard to merge our traditions, but when our children were born, the traditions we established as a family seemed to take on incredible importance.  I know the kids will not turn into serial killers or hermits or <gasp> politicians if we don’t get our tradition just right, but I do believe it is important to keep the kids out of politics…I mean, help the kids look back on their childhoods with fondness.

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At first, we tried to mix the traditions with which my wife and I were raised.  It just didn’t work.  And, though it took some time to figure out, we realized that the traditions we impart to our kids have to be wholly ours….MY family’s traditions, not the traditions of my parents or my wife’s parents.  So, while I have such wonderful memories of the traditions surrounding the celebration of the Christmases of my childhood, I think that the responsibility to impart such memories to my children is even more special to me.  So, while the traditional things we each do to celebrate Christmas is special and important, I think the more important tradition is having traditions and seeing those traditions come alive in the eyes and hearts of our children.

So, what are your traditions?  How do you ‘do’ the holidays?  Of course, my take here was Christmas related, bt I am curious about how folks do Hanukkah or whatever holiday you may celebrate in your home too!

I wrote this post for Not Dabbling in Normal where I occasionally post, but I felt like it was appropriate for here as well…

Our first indoor allergy-maker!

Tomorrow is my birthday…it’s not a big one…not a decade mark, but I am pretty happy to celebrate another year.  Both Emily and I have been around the sun a few times though and had never experienced a live Christmas tree.  We never had live trees growing up because I am allergic to everything.  Of course, I grew up in the woods so I was surrounded by evergreen trees, but they were never in the house.  Anyhow, since I have been so sick the last month or so, I decided that a new tree can’t possibly make me feel any worse than I already do.

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We loaded up the kids in the van and headed to the Capitol Market in Charleston, one of WV’s best farmer’s markets.  This time of year, the sell only one thing…Christmas trees!  We wandered through hundreds of trees looking for the cheapest price….erm..I mean the best shaped tree.  About 2/3 of the way down the market, we happened upon the cheapest…erm…best shaped…trees.  We talked to the folks working there and they told us where their trees were grown (locally) and their price was good so we picked out a tree.

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The guy working there ran our tree through the wrapping machine and offered to run Isaac through as well.  I told him I would pay him $10 extra to run both kids through but we measured and his machine would not quite handle their size.  I bet for $20 he would have made it work.

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Anyhow, we tied the tree atop the van and proceeded to cruise over all of the hills and curves back to the house.  Neither of us wanted to look back fearing we’d see our tree rolling down the hill towards the next car in line.

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We made it home and I manhandled the tree into the house and set it into the new tree stand we bought.  The kids cut the tree-wrap into hundreds of tiny pieces that were left strewn about the house.  Emily cut the last bit of the wrap as the kids and I cowered in fear of the tree’s opening.

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We put lights on the tree and, of course, the kids started to fight.  The good news is, they seemed to fight in rhythm with the Christmas carols we had playing so it felt like Christmas indeed!

So far, allergies have not been a factor and I have not yet keeled over dead.  I am not any better, but I am not much worse either!

So, do you set up a tree?  Live or artificial?

My Dad is another year older

I honor of my Dad, half the reason I am alive today (it’s all about me after all), I thought I would show you a few pictures and tell you a few facts about this day in history.

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On Dad’s birthday across various years, the following interesting things happened:

  • 1992 10,000,000 cellular telephone sold
  • 1960 Tinseltown dedicated its Walk of Fame on Hollywood Blvd
  • 1945 Most U.S. wartime rationing of foods, including meat and butter, ends
  • 1942 Japan bombs Port Darwin, Australia
  • 1942 A German U-boat sinks the S.S. Ben Lomond off the coast of Brazil. One crewman, Chinese second steward Poon Lim, is separated from the others and spends 130 days adrift until he is rescued on April 3, 1943
  • 1936 Life magazine hit newsstands

Sometime in the middle of all of that, my Dad was born.  I won’t give you all the details since he wouldn’t want all of the phone calls wishing him a happy birthday…well, he might like the calls but he wouldn’t like the number of spanks on his butt that he’d be owed.

Fred Patterson et al - choir boys of Christ Episcopal Church Coudersport PA ca 1953

(see if you can find my Dad…he looked then like he does in the first pic…only young).
 Happy birthday Dad!  Do you even remember what you looked like back then?

My wife has CDO

I know that mental health issues are no laughing matter, but I have to tell you about Emily’s OCD, or, as she likes to describe it, her CDO (that’s OCD in alphabetical order).  She has all sorts of quirks, but one in particular is especially funny and evident throughout our house.

We’ve been doing some home repairs and replacing stuff that just plain needs replaced.  One of those things is the switch and receptacle covers.  It’s really a trivial matter unscrewing one or two screws, pulling off the old cover, adding the new, and replacing the screws, right?

Well, it’s a different story in our household with Emily around.  I can do the first 3 steps of the process, but Emily insists on putting the screws in place.  You see, in our house, the screws can’t simply be replaced….oh, no…they must be installed such that the slot of the screw is perfectly vertical.  People are pretty good at determining whether  something is vertical.  By no means are we perfect, but one would think that “eyeball vertical” would be vertical enough to satisfy Emily’s screw-vertical-slot-OCD.  You’d be wrong…

We have outfitted a flathead screwdriver with a small torpedo level so she can be certain that the screws are vertical, “as God intended them to be.”  I understand when folks are particular about things.  I really do get it.  But I also like to have a little fun now and then as well.

So, here’s my experiment.  I am about to loosen one of the screws in the switch cover in our bedroom.  I’ll time how long it takes her to find and fix the “problem”.
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Let’s see, it’s 9:52pm…
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HA!  10:19 and the “problem” is fixed!  The best part is that she spent 20 minutes going through the rest of the house seeing if I had messed with any other screws!

The rodent war of NW PA

My Grandpa is a pretty amazing man.  He never cured any mysterious diseases or won a Nobel prize, but he is just clever and patient and a lot of fun…and he ended the Rodent War of NW PA.

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I grew up in northwest PA where the chipmunk is the region’s mascot.  You see, it is woodsy where my people are.  There are miles and miles of trees and not a stoplight or fast food restaurant to be found.  Critters sort of run the show there.  When I was growing up, we had a bit of a problem with squirrels in the house.  My parents used extreme prejudice in the removal of over 30 in one year…inside the house…in their bed, in the bathroom, the living room…everywhere in the house.

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So folks in the area live a sort of uneasy coexistence with rodents.  Everyone has squirrel problems and war is declared regularly.  Actually, they are more like regional outbreaks and minor skirmishes, but tell that to the people on the front lines.  Anyhow, most rational people know that they should be cautious as they go to sleep at night.  The squirrels are relentless and merciless.

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Anyhow, my Grandpa, the pacifist, sought to end the chaos of war in the area so he extended the olive branch to a local chipmunk, a local tribal leader and the spokes-rodent in the area.  Slowly and patiently, he enticed the chipmunk closer and closer with sunflower seeds.  In time, he was able to feed Edgar Snyder, the chipmunk out of his hand.  He named the chipmunk Edgar Snyder after the locally-famous ambulance chaser who had really annoying ads on tv.

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Anyhow, Edgar and Grandpa struck up quite a friendship and a relationship based on respect and trust.  Edgar would eat from friendly people’s hands.  Once in your hand, Edgar could be moved around by gently lifting his tail and shifting his backside.  As long as the sunflower seeds lasted, he was happy to stick around.

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I was fortunate enough to witness this beautiful thing they had together first hand…literally.  I fed Edgar and asked him to send my best regards to his rodent friends.  In time, it was apparent that my Grandpa had broken the rodent wars of NW PA.  The truce lasted for some time and prosperity returned to the land!

The End of the Innocence

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I am really struggling with something and, honestly, it has been a long time coming and probably should have happened awhile ago. Isaac is in fourth grade and still very innocent and naive. That is changing as the kids in his class are getting older, but he remains a very sweet boy and so absolutely and wonderfully innocent. I would keep him that way forever, I often think, but I know that neither he nor I really want that. But there is something so pure looking into his eyes and hearing him talk. I truly want to cry when I think of the end of his innocence.

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I am not sure when I learned the truth about Old Saint Nick. I am pretty sure I knew in second grade. Isaac truly still plans to ask Santa for things this Christmas. In many ways, I would love to allow him to believe one more year (or ten more), but I feel like we need to bring him in on the secret. I know that fourth grade is when kids start to pick on each other relentlessly. I struggle between wanting to preserve a bit of his innocence a little while longer versus not wanting him to lose some of his innocence through teasing and bullying. And this, dear friends, is what makes me want to cry.

Halloween!

Not much to say…the pics speak for themselves.  We trick-or-treated last night and got way too much candy.  Isaac was a dementor (the soul-sucking beast from Harry Potter) and Abigail was an Indian Princess (feather, not a bindi).  Emily actually got her to stay still long enough to braid her hair!

Without further adieu…

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(not good for human/dementor relations…)

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(poor kid…the dementor moved his nose to where his eyes belong…at least they made up!)

Pumpkin fun

We finally managed to get to the farmers’ market yesterday to buy some pumpkins to carve for Halloween. It’s a tradition afterall, where brothers and sisters gather around the dining room table and fight with each other and their parents while wielding sharp knives. It’s a tradition that goes way back, before the crusades in fact!

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Anyhow, the kids design their own faces and prepare their pumpkins by scraping the insides. Our brave warriors could not handle the feel so donned rubber gloves for the task. Isaac is getting much better though. Last year he very nearly threw up. Although the gagging was a bit funny to watch, I don’t really miss that. Anyhow, they got the guts out and I separated the seeds from the fibers and meat.

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Emily helped the kids transfer the pumpkins’ facial patterns to the orange beasts. We gave the kids their safety knives for pumpkins and turned them loose.

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In the meantime, I set my pumpkin down beside some ingredients. I was planning on cooking a bit. When I walked back into the room, I was able to snap this shocking photo of my pumpkin:
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We test-lighted the pumpkins and had a mostly good time hanging around, watching Mo, our cat try to steal pumpkin seeds, and sing our favorite Halloween songs…ok…I made up that last part.

Over the years, I have carved some pretty fun pumpkins at the place I used to work. My co-worker (who shall remain nameless to preserve her privacy) was a genius on this and did most of the work I figure. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy these too:

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Yoda…I put a motion detector inside of him and wrote a computer program so that any time there was motion in front of Yoda, he played a Yoda voice clip from one of the movies!

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A Magic 8 Ball pumpkin to determine our estimates for when our projects would be complete!

And so I don’t forget, I also did a post over at Not Dabbling in Normal if you’d care to check that out too!

Going for Broke

Some friends had a birthday party for their kids at an “inflatables” place.  Basically, there is one big room full of inflatable Jupiter Jumps and slides and stuff like that.  The kids were having a great time for the most part…all except the smallest kids who couldn’t fit through “the Big Squeeze”, a tight spot in one of the inflatables.  Really, all they had to do was push their heads though and they would have been fine, but the little kids got stuck.

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(at the top of the Wall of Doom)              (Ready to jump!)

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(Isaac going over the Wall)

You see, there was a big wall they slid down to get to that part and the “Big Squeeze” was the other direction.  One or two kids could easily be sacrificed and left in the Gully of Fear, but there got to be a backlog so I went in to hold the “Big Squeeze” open so they could get through.

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Of course, I am a big stupid kid so I decided to continue playing on the inflatables.  Isaac and I raced through them, plowing down women and children as we went.  It was heap-big fun!  Of course, these things are really built for kid feet, not adult feet.  So, with my adult feet firmly attached, I plowed through one ride and met up with a kid-feet-size step to climb one of the walls.  My square-peg foot didn’t fit into the round-peg step and “the Legend of Warren (the goof-ball)” was born.

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(uh…girl…you have some cake on your face!)
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I hobbled my way through the rest of the maze, but I was pretty sure I had done damage.  Emily wasn’t around so I got 11 kids to carry me over to the party room where I could self-diagnose my torn up foot.  It might as well be broken…it’s blue and hurts like crazy.

Ok, enough about me…there was a party too and it was fun.  Happy birthday kiddos!

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(see…they even invited the crazy clown!)
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(the injuries)

Do you ever forget to act your age?  Ever pay for it?

I suppose the Big Squeeze should be used as a public service announcement also…folks, don’t forget your mammograms.