Careful to Not Be Careless

My dad used to call it "being all stoved up", meaning he felt stiff and sore. He'd stand after sitting for a while and moved stiffly around until his body complied with where he wanted to go. That was usually after working in out in the yard or in the garage or whatever the physical activity was, including walking the dogs and/or walking with my mom. He didn't really exercise otherwise, but after the stroke he had right after he retired from the police department in 1994, he did the best he could to take care of himself and stay active until he passed in 2012. 

I'm thinking of him because his birthday is right around the corner. He'd be 93 if he was still alive. Mercy me. I'm also thinking of him because I've got a big birthday coming up later this year and it includes the numbers 6 and 0. Mercy me, again.

My wife Amy and I are gratefully healthy and exercise regularly, and yet are both north of 50 years old. Amy, who's almost six years younger than me, is much more flexible than I am, but gets just as "stoved up" after sitting down to work for any length of time. Since we both work from home, we'll both be sitting and working away after our morning workouts, and then when my watch reminds me that it's time to stand, I can feel and hear my bones creak and pop as I do so. Same with Amy. We'll both moan and laugh, but we feel it all. 

Which is why we're careful not to overdo it when working out and careful not to trip and fall when walking or hiking. Our two teens don't play sports anymore, but they are both active. Our oldest Beatrice uses our home gym a few times a week and our youngest Bryce, well, doesn't -- but sometimes walks the dog with us at the end of the day. They'll be starting high school this year and both will be in theater and choir, so there will be some physical activity within those activities.

Our teens are still young and spry, as they should be. Amy and I are not. Healthy, though, and grateful to be so, both of us with positive and balanced body images. Balanced as in "a little fit / a little fat". In fact, Amy saw a t-shirt with that on it, and we promised we'd get one for each of us. Stay tuned for that.

Now that I'm almost 60, I want to ensure that I'll always be active and able to do the beach workouts that I do each week, or to just be able to take walks with Amy along the water or in the redwoods when I'm 90+ (and she's 84+). And to stay healthy and active for our kids and grandkids someday. Of course, you never know what could happen in life, when you're going to go, or what you might break, even just working around the house, which is why we're careful to not to be careless no matter what we're doing. 

Blessings to the old-ish folks. Stay as healthy as you can, kids. 

The fear of what we do wrong

Many of us think our own babies are the smartest babies in the world. But when anything developmentally falls behind with them, we worry that something's gone wrong.

What exactly "wrong" is we can speculate until we overcompensate and convince ourselves nothing's wrong at all, or until we're tossing and turning at night wondering what we did wrong to skew their growth progress.

Beatrice started walking at around 11 months, but she didn't crawl until 17 months. Bryce crawled between 7-8 months and walked at around 11 months. When my mother reminded me that my sister and I walked before we crawled, I didn't feel so out of sorts about Bea not crawling sooner.

Now that Bea has started preschool, which she loves, there's a real deficit that's been called to our attention, one that we already knew was there but now it stands out more amongst her toddler peers and her teachers have pointed it out as well.

She has a speech delay. What specifically that means, a maturation delay or expressive language disorder or whatever, we just don't know yet. Six months ago our pediatrician told us she was fine and already had the right pronunciation skills for her age, but she hasn't progressed much since.

Now, she has normal intelligence and comprehension (if not above normal -- she is the smartest toddler in the world you know), normal hearing, good emotional relationships and normal articulation skills. In fact, even the speech therapist she saw this week concurred on all those points. And when we talk about Bea in front of her about not talking enough, her level of communication kicks up a notch.

However, Bea just doesn't string as many words together into three-word+ sentences as other children do at three years old. Bea still has to have a comprehensive evaluation with the speech therapist next month and will more than likely be going to her for the next few months.

What throws people who meet her for the first time is that she's tall for her age; she's mistaken for upwards of four years old. But when she talks, it's more baby-like than clear and simple phrases others her age speak. We've been told more than once that she most likely regressed when Bryce was born and this speech delay has slowed potty training too. Ack.

When Bea was only a few months old our pediatrician requested we get an ultrasound of her head because it was in the very high percentile of size for her young age. The results showed that her brain ventricles were enlarged but there was no other action taken by the doctors. The traumatic birth her and Mama went through included the vacuum on Bea's head that popped off two times before we got her out the third time (a Caesarean was next), so who knows if that had something to do with it early on, but at this point we may never know if any permanent damage was done.

We've always talked with Beatrice and read her stories and told her stories. She even learned sign language early on and still signs please when we ask her to say please. Yes, she watches TV and plays games, watches videos and reads stories on our, I mean her iPod and iPad, but we're also very active and engaging outside as well, always verbal, always loving.

For me and a past that occasionally haunts, there's always the fear of what we do wrong with our children, when all we ever want is for them is to be all right.

The ascent of Bea and the baby-face buffet (Happy Fother's Day!)

We're closing in on a 9-month Bea and it's been amazing. Recently, there's been two developments worthy of note.

First, there's the ascent of Bea. For millions of years babes have learned to crawl before they walk, but our Beatrice has been wanting to walk so badly for over a month now. Mama skims the floor on her knees like a hovercraft while using her arms to act as safety bars for Bea to bound forward in (and sideways and backwards and diagonally). Saves money and wear and tear from buying a walker. Bea's even standing up more on her own, balancing against furniture and our 300-year-old cat and her toy basket that she loves to dip into from time to time. Either of us will hold her by her hands or under her arms and away she goes! Mercy, it's time to child-proof the house and my laptop. Nobody touches my MacBook.

Ah, then there's the joys of feeding baby. Bea's been eating solids for a few months and Mama keeps introducing different organic veges and pasta and french fries and onion rings. No, wait - those last two are me and Mama's. Funny thing is, Bea's turned into the baby-face buffet; you can eat right off her face. Seriously. Delicious, tenderly-cooked sweet potatoes and carrots and peas and pasta and green beans and mashed bananas, all for the lip-smacking taking. Of course, some of it makes it to the baby belly for Bea sustanence, but why heat up a Swanson TV dinner when you've got an adorable baby-face chock full of nutritious food? Don't forget the bonus - finishing off your meal when you move baby from the high-chair and pick the food off the seat (and floor). It all goes well with a glass or three of Merlot.

So while it is Father's Day this Sunday, and I am a very proud new father and wish all the daddies out there the best, I have to give a shout out to my lovely wife. Without her, I wouldn't even Bea a father. I'd just be a big, scary man eating the food off other baby-face buffets.

Happy Fother's Day, Mama A!

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Welcome to Fatherhood Friday! It’s a hip place at Dad-Blogs.com for dads and moms to share stories, ideas, photos and movies with one topic in mind – fatherhood. Or as I like to call it – fotherhood. Good times.

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Retro A: Exercise and the Great Wall

After our Yosemite hike, I started thinking about all the hiking and running we've done throughout the world. I don't say that because of places we've been. I say it because of our focus on exercise, how important it is to us, and no matter where we're at, we make the time to exercise while seeing the sites.

Exercise has been even more important since we're pregnant (as has the eating, hence the need for exercise). Mama A had to stop running a few months ago, but she still walks regularly (if all goes well she'll be walking the Wharf to Wharf as well), uses our elliptical machine, works out with weights, works out in the pool at work, and we hike together when we can.

Like Baby B's first International hike in China up and down the Great Wall! I was hanging the colorful embroidered rats we bought for Baby B's room (because it's the year of the rat for those raising eyebrows at home) and reminiscing over the stunning view of the mountains and the Great Wall over 3,000 years in the making. The section we visited included a vertical climb up 1,000 uneven steps to a spectacular view.

And as we approached the Great Wall, we noticed a small crumbling rock fence winding its way up a hill. Amy said, "This must be the not so great wall of China."

Really. Good times.

People born in the Year of the Rat are noted for their charm and attraction for the opposite sex. They work hard to achieve their goals, acquire possessions, and are likely to be perfectionists. They are basically thrifty with money. Rat people are easily angered and love to gossip. Their ambitions are big, and they are usually very successful. They are most compatible with people born in the years of the Dragon, Monkey, and Ox.

Good. Take care of us, B. We'll do our best to keep up.