The Stork Stops Here

Final Approach

2012-02-15T22:00:00.000-08:00

It's late, I'm tired. Worn out, really, but that's nothing compared to how Jude feels, I know. Foolishly, I scheduled 9 mediations in 10 days leading up to taking a couple of weeks off of work, beginning Monday, to spend time with Jude, J.P. and our new son. I worked past 8 p.m. Monday, to 5:30 p.m. Tuesday and to 6:15 p.m. tonight, mediating cases each day. Fortunately, I was able to help the parties and their attorneys settled all 3 cases, but I'm spent. Still, I've got to find the energy to mediate two more cases, tomorrow and Friday.

Again, poor planning by me to not allow myself some time to wind things down at work before our new son arrives. Nothing to do now but fight through and make the best of it.

All I have to do, though, is look to Jude for inspiration. She's my rock, my best friend, my partner and my hero. She's the best person I know, bar none. Her work ethic is unsurpassed, as evidenced by the fact she's working (at Mayor Dean's and Governor Haslam's offices, respectively) through Friday, as opposed to taking a few days off before our new son arrives. I know she's worn out - physically and emotionally - yet she rarely ever complains. She's beautiful. 8 + months pregnant and more beautiful every day, even though she doesn't feel that way. My girl, my lovely wife.

I want this baby so much for her. She's sacrificed so much to give me another son and to give J.P. a brother. Every day - literally - I pray to God for her pregnancy to go well, for her to be healthy and for our son to be born without any complications or issues. With all my heart, I just want her to be okay and for our son to be okay. In my lifetime, I have never wanted anything so badly. I haven't.

Jude's strength, resolve and determination - her very will - are something to behold. I'm in awe of her.

Tonight, before she went to sleep, as we lay in bed together, I put my hand on her stomach. Quietly, I talked to my son, told him I couldn't wait to meet him and also told him his big brother has so much to teach him. I could feel him moving, almost in response to my voice. I just want to hold him in my arms and know Jude is okay and that he is okay. It's not a lot, but it's everything. I'm asking for a small thing, but I'm asking for a miracle.

Hootie

2012-02-11T08:48:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, Jude had to leave early for work so J.P. and I ate breakfast together in the kitchen. I was playing "jukebox," selecting random songs from my iPod and cueing them to what he thought of them. I've always liked doing that - even back to college when I lived in the fraternity house and probably had 200+ albums. The best part now is I have a captive audience in J.P.

Anyway, I played "Hold My Hand," Hootie and the Blowfish's breakout hit from long, long ago. How long ago? I'll get to that in a minute.

J.P. had me play the song several times, as he does when he likes a new song. I got the Kappa Sigma paddle down from the wall in the kitchen where it hangs and played pretend guitar. J.P. got tickled and as he laughed, spit out the milk he was drinking, which only made him (and me) laugh even harder. There I stood, on a step stool in the kitchen, a 45-year old man with my 3 1/2 year old son, listening, laughing and singing along to Hootie. Oh, did I mention the part where I have another son coming in about 10 days?

If it's true that you're as young as your feel - or in my case, act - then I'm going to be fine with two boys under the age of 5, I think.

Now, back to Hootie and the Blowfish and that song. After I dropped J.P. off at school, I googled it. "Hold My Hand" was released in July 1994. 1994! 17 + years ago. I was 28 years old That started me thinking - what was I doing in 1994, when that song first hit? Well, I had just graduated from law school and was working at Manier, Herod, Hollabaugh & Smith in Nashville. I was living at home, I believe, or I might have just moved into my first house.

I couldn't help but smile, as I wondered what my 28 year old self would have said if someone had told him he would be listening to Hootie's "Hold My Hand" 17 years later, in a kitchen of a house in downtown Nashville, laughing and singing along with his 3 1/2 year old son, a second son due in 10 days. I'm guessing my 28 year old self wouldn't have believed it.

And you know what? I wouldn't change a thing. Not one damn thing.

Goodbye Rumours

2012-02-04T23:02:00.000-08:00

It's hard, sometimes, to say goodbye to something that can't say goodbye to you.

Rumours Wine Bar in 12South is closing tonight, a victim of a greedy landowner and a developer who has no understanding of the neighborhood and what will and will not work. But that's another story. Tonight, I want to write about Rumours and how sad I am that it's closing. What makes it especially sad is that my friends - Jenn, Christie and Tammy - are being forced out by their landlord just when the bar, their dream, is finally hitting its stride. In other words, it's not a case of a bar closing due to a lack of business. Instead, Rumours is being forced to close to make way for a large residential/retail development. In fact, Rumours is going to be torn down to allow for parking.

That's right - a neighborhood bar and restaurant that's been a significant part of the fabric of my life is going to be razed to make room for a parking lot. What bullshit.

So many, many happy memories.

I remember the Sunday night J.P. and I met Hal Humphreys at Rumours for dinner. Our friend and chef, Michael (formerly the owner of "Mirror," also in 12South), was cooking and Jenn was tending bar. It was the first or second Sunday the bar was open, so we had the place to ourselves. It was one of those nights that just organically - magically even - turns out perfectly. Michael invited J.P. into the kitchen while he cooked our dinner (I had an exquisite line caught salmon dish) and fed him apples. Hal and I sat at the corner table, drank wine and talked to Jenn. I've got great photos of J.P. in Hal's lap, smiling and laughing.

I remember the December night in 2010 when I hosted my law firm's Christmas Dinner and Party at Rumours. We reserved the entire bar for a couple or hours, then had the back room to ourselves for dinner. We drank a lot - and I mean a lot - of wine and had a great evening.

I remember the night Hal and I went to a Nashville Sounds game, then ended up on the patio at Rumours. Long after closing time, Christie sat on the patio with Hal and me, ringing out bottle after bottle of wine. It was a beautiful summer night and we hung out, talked and watched traffic pass by on 12th Avenue.

I remember the night I met my former paralegal, Tracie Carter, at Rumour's. It was the first time she had seen J.P., who was less than a year old and slept in the stroller (the "City Elite") as we had a glass of wine.

I remember the night we celebrated my birthday in the back room at Rumours with my mom and Jude's parents. Jenn surprised me with an ice cream cake Jude had left with her earlier in the day.

I remember celebrating Kim Green's 40th birthday at Rumours.

I remember the night Lori Reid and I had a glass of wine with Alison Prestwood, a recent graduate from the Nashville School of Law. Shortly thereafter, we hired Alison and she works at my law firm.

I remember taking my mom to dinner at Rumours. We sat at a two top table to the left of the bar and had a wonderful meal and a glass of wine. I enjoyed getting her our of her suburban bubble and into my neighborhood for dinner.

I remember many, many nights I met Hal at Rumours for a glass of wine after work, on my way home.

I remember the night when Doug Brown was in town and Mike Matteson and I ended up with him at Rumours. We sat in the front of the bar, by the door and finished off our night by drinking a lot of white wine.

So many happy memories. For me, Rumours isn't a place. It's a feeling or something like a feeling. Something abstract. Jenn and Christie are going to try to open another Rumours, perhaps in the Gulch, and I hope that happens. I also hope the new Rumours has the same feeling the old Rumours had. I'm not sure how realistic that is but I hope it works out that way.

Cheers.

A Ride to Remember - Volume II

2012-02-01T22:27:00.000-08:00

I've been here before and it turned out okay.

That's what I kept telling myself yesterday, my heart pounding, as I drove up I-65 north to Baptist Hospital. Around noon, I had called Jude to see how her day was going, only to learn she had come home from work because she wasn't feeling well. What was most disturbing was she hadn't felt the baby moving much all morning. She was laying down, trying to get a "kick count."

"Forget the kick count," I said. "Call Roseann (our doctor) and see what she says you should do." When Jude immediately agreed to call Roseann, I really began to worry, given that she's probably the only person on the face of the earth more stubborn than me. Within minutes, Jude called me back and said Roseann's nurse, Gena, has told her to go to the hospital. "Here we go," I thought.

I cancelled my afternoon appointments, got in my truck and immediately got stuck in traffic trying to leave downtown Franklin and get to the interstate. When I finally got on I-65, I accelerated rapidly, then looked in my rearview mirror and saw a City of Franklin police cruiser behind me in the far right lane (deja vous all over again, I thought). I slowed down and breathed a sigh of relief as the police cruiser exited at Cool Springs Boulevard.

I saw Jude's Honda Pilot on the 3rd floor of the parking garage at Baptist Hospital when I arrived and I parked nearby. I walked inside and stopped by the registration desk, where the attendant quickly gave me Jude's room number and waved me back to triage. As I walked back, I silently prayed for Jude and our baby, asking (begging, really) for them to be okay.

As I arrived at the door to the hospital room she was in, I paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and walked in. The first sound I heard was our baby's heartbeat, loud and strong. And what a beautiful sound it was! I smiled at Jude and the nurse, exhaled and relaxed just a bit. Together, we watched the fetal heart monitor and saw that Jude was having some contractions (which is pretty normal, actually, at this stage of the game).

After 45 minutes or so, we were discharged from the hospital. Soon. Very soon, I think, this baby is going to make his debut. And I suspect it will be before February 21.

Two for One

2012-01-31T07:00:00.000-08:00

We're three weeks away from the birth of our second son and the question that keeps gnawing at me, like an itch I can't scratch, is this -

How is having another child, another son, going to impact J.P.?

Although it seems like a question to which the answer should be straightforward and fairly simple, it's not. It's a question to which the answer is nuanced and layered with complexities. It seems that way to me, anyway.

The answer to that question worries me. It worries me a lot. I think about the answer when I go to bed at night and when I wake up in the morning. I think about it when I'm driving to and from work and when I'm at work. I think about it when I'm running. Really, I think about it all the time.

J.P. is my firstborn and, but for a miracle of sorts (in my mind), he was going to be my only child. Don't get me wrong, Jude and I are blessed beyond belief to have another son on the way. I love him more than life itself. Now, though, I've got to grow my heart big enough to love another child - another son - as much and in the same way as I love J.P. I hope I can do it. I really do.

I've been joking lately about this but, as with most jokes, this one hides and insecurity. When J.P. goes to sleep on February 20, 2012, he'll still be "the man." When he wakes up February 21, 2012, or shortly thereafter, he'll be just another man. How will he handle that realization in his soon to be 4-year old mind? Will it make him insecure? Will he lose any confidence or self-esteem? Will it make him sad?

Will he know and realize that he is my firstborn son and he always will be? Will he realize, now, that he will always have a special place in my heart for that and so many other reasons? I hope so. I really do.

I know parents (and children) make this transition every day. I know that. I do. Still, it's the first time for me. The first time for J.P. Until now, he's been in large part the focus of my life for almost four years. My mood and my state of mind have been predicated upon his. If he's been sick, I've been worried. If he's been happy and in a good mood, I've been happy and in a good mood. When he has been asleep, I've relaxed.

But soon, very soon, that's going to change. It's like I'll have to develop a split personality, because I'll have two sons around which to center my life, not just one. I'm not sure I know how to do that and I'm worried if I don't do it right, J.P. will suffer the consequences. I've got to find a way to be happy when J.P. is happy but, at the same time, to be able to worry about my new son if he's crying.

It's confounding, really, but I guess like so many things in life, it comes down to faith. Or, having faith, I should say. Faith that when the time comes, I'll know what to do and how to act. Faith that God will bless me with the wisdom, energy and enough love in my heart for two children. Two sons, no less.

In Range

2012-01-30T20:45:00.001-08:00

Today, Jude and I went to Baptist Hospital for her weekly NST (non-stress test). By now, we know the drill. We arrive, check in out front, then get an escort back to triage. There, a nurse takes us to a room and after Jude gets "comfortable" (that's a relative term), she's hooked up to a machine that monitors our unborn son's heartbeat. The nurse leaves and we talk quietly or read. The results are transmitted real time to our doctor, Roseann Maikis, and after she gets 30 minutes of solid results, we're free to go.

This afternoon, I stretched out on the built in couch next to Jude's hospital bed and fell asleep for a few minutes to the comforting sound of our son's strong, rhythmic heartbeat in the background, sweet music to my ears.

Within a half hour or so, the nurse came back into the hospital room and told us everything looked (and sounded) great. We left and drove over to Roseann Maikis' office. Before she called Jude back, I had to leave to pick up J.P. from school, so Jude was on her own. Roseann was pleased with how Jude is doing and everything appears to be on schedule for our February 21 c-section. Three weeks away.

Damn.

Cyndi

2012-01-22T13:51:00.000-08:00

I think I've expressed this thought before, but in life, you're really lucky if you can find one friend, one true friend, you can count on to support you unequivocally. I'm talking about the kind of friend who comes when you call for help, no matter the distance between the two of you or how busy he or she is. For Jude (and for me, really), Cyndi Baines is that kind of friend.

A couple of weeks ago, I called Cyndi in Florida and asked her if she could visit us before Jude had our baby. Without a moment's hesitation, she agreed. Jude is Cyndi's best friend and her visits always seem to energize Jude. Almost 8 months into her pregnancy, I knew Jude could use the energy boost. J.P.'s excitement about Cyndi's visit was a bonus.

After I picked up her up at the airport and we put J.P. to bed, Jude, Cyndi and I stayed up and talked for a while. Cyndi and I shared a bottle of red wine before we all turned in for the night.

Saturday morning, the 4 of us set up shop in the kitchen for breakfast, enjoying what amounted to a 3 or 4 course meal. Jude handed out waffles as quickly as she make them, while I was cooking bacon. I scrambled some eggs, which we polished off in short order. I brought up from the basement 2 large tubs of J.P.'s baby clothes and we marveled at the tiny socks, caps and onesies. Jude and Cyndi sorted through the clothes while J.P. and I went to a birthday party for a classmate of his at Bounce U. Later, while J.P. napped, I slogged through the water and mud at Shelby Bottoms on an 8-mile trail run.

Saturday night, Jude and Cyndi saw an awesome Predators-Blackhawks game at the Bridgestone Arena. J.P. and I had dinner at Chago's Cantina (formerly La Fiesta). For the second night in a row, Jude, Cyndi and I stayed up late talking.

This morning, Cyndi accompanied J.P. and me on our weekly trip to Bongo Java for breakfast. J.P. got a real kick out of showing her around and introducing her to some of the other regulars at our favorite coffee shop. J.P. and I went to church at St. Patrick while Jude and Cyndi finished washing and drying the baby clothes they'd sorted through yesterday afternoon. As is always the case, though, Cyndi's visit ended too quickly and I dropped her off at the airport a couple of hours ago.

Here's the thing - Cyndi Baines is like a sister to Jude, she really is. It warmed my heart this weekend just watching them together, talking and laughing. Cyndi's family and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Church

2012-01-22T12:56:00.000-08:00

Last week at church, while Father David was giving the homily, J.P. leaned toward Jude and whispered "why did Jesus die?"

Today, in church, while Father David was giving the homily, J.P. leaned toward me and whispered "Daddy, can I get on your shoulders?"

That's my son.

Mixed Emotions

2012-01-16T21:33:00.000-08:00

It's late and I'm tired but I want to get this down while it's still fresh on my mind.

I'm listening to Uncle Tupelo's "Anodyne" - one of the 10 albums I would want with me if I was marooned on an island in the Pacific. It's a classic, for me, that I've probably listened to 1,000 times.

Tonight is the first night (at our house) since J.P. moved into his own room that he hasn't slept in his baby bed. Initially, it was a crib, and it seems like only yesterday we converted it to a toddler bed. He was so excited the Sunday afternoon we took the rails off the crib and lowered the mattress for him. His "big boy bed," we called it. In my mind's eye, I can see him getting in and out of the bed, all my himself, smiling in wonderment at his newfound freedom and independence. Jude and I smiled back at him.

Today, our handyman - Nathan - converted the toddler bed back into a crib and set it up for us in the nook upstairs, which is going to be the nursery for our baby. J.P.'s real "big boy bed" - a single bed, box springs and mattress I purchased over the weekend - is set to arrive Thursday. Tonight and for the next couple of nights, he's sleeping on the futon mattress, which we placed on the floor in his bedroom. Initially, he was excited about it, but it took a little coaxing for him to get comfortable as I laid down next to him and told him a story at bedtime.

Again, it's hard to put into words how I feel. Nostalgic for certain and a little bit sad. Proud, too. I can't help but feel he lost a little innocence tonight, when laid down to sleep on a relatively large mattress with no rails to protect him from the outside world (realizing, of course, I mean figuratively and not literally). His baby bad, or toddler bed, was so safe - smaller, filled with a couple of small blankets and his "lovies" (stuffed animals), surrounded by rails on 3 sides. It also was a connection to when he was an infant. The same baby bed, just configured differently. The same bed, though.

It's going to be weird, in a minute, when I go upstairs (as I do every night) to check on him. I'll slip quietly into J.P.'s bedroom, cover him up and quietly say a prayer as I gaze down at him. My son. My perfect, innocent and lovely son.

The nursery for "the player to be named later." He's coming soon, very soon, to a theatre near you (and me).

Counting Down the Days

2012-01-11T08:15:00.000-08:00

It's almost 9 a.m. on a Wednesday morning. I'm feeling a little contemplative, as I sit at "J.P.'s table" in the back room at Bongo Java and give serious consideration to taking a "mental health day" off work. Looking to my left, I look out the window at the cars in the back parking lot, the nearby houses and the students hurrying to class. There's standing water in the alley after a night of rain (J.P. and I have been known to drive through the puddles in the alley again and again, laughing as we splash the water up on both sides of my truck, after a good rain).

A couple of days ago, Jude remarked that we're exactly 6 weeks from the birth of our second son, Diesel Leonidas Newman (joking . . . maybe). In some ways, we have vacillated back and forth between taking a laid back approach in our preparations (i.e. doing very little) and sticking our heads in the sand, ostrich style (i.e. doing very little).  Reality set in as Jude decided it was time to do some serious nesting.

Over the weekend, we made some decisions on how we're going to set the house up (for 2 children), with a key assist from our friend and interior decorator extraordinairre, Charly Roos.  We also selected a new bed for J.P. (we're planning on converting his "toddler bed" back into a crib) and a chest of drawers. J.P. is going to stay in his bedroom and we're going to convert the nook to a nursery of sorts.  Over the weekend, I borrowed a pick-up truck and removed the old desk and chair from the office.  Our plan is for the office to be a playroom, where we'll put J.P.'s train table, toys, books, etc.

We've got plan, at least, which gives Jude a sense of security that we'll be ready when the baby arrives. Last night, Jude made a list, day by day, of what we need to accomplish. That's good for me, because I generally work better from lists, as opposed to haphazardly bouncing from one task to another.

Beginning this week, Jude goes to Baptist Hospital every Monday morning for an "NST" (non-stress test). After our son's heartbeat is monitored for 30 minutes straight and results are transmitted to our doctor's office, Jude is free to go if everything looks (and sounds) good. Every other week, she leaves Baptist Hospital and goes straight to our doctor's office for a quick visit. Every Thursday, starting tomorrow, she'll have an ultrasound.  The extra attention is due to Jude's age, not any particular problem that has deveolped.

I've decided J.P. is nesting, too. Sunday, at Church, I looked over and as he sat between Jude and me, he was lightly rubbing Jude's stomach with his hand while he listened (or appeared to listen) to our priest, Father David Perkin, give the homily. It was a pretty special moment.

Radnor Lake

2011-12-31T13:38:00.000-08:00

J.P., Jude and I went to Radnor Lake this morning. Unseasonably warm weather for New Year's Eve, for sure, but we enjoyed getting outside. Jude and J.P. go to Radnor Lake a lot to walk on the trails, look at the lake and just explore.

It was great, this morning, watching J.P. in his element, throwing rocks in the lake and pretending a stick was his fishing pole. It wasn't so great when he almost put my eye out "casting" his fishing pole as I stood behind him. Fortunately, I saw what he was about to do an ducked my head. Hey, being a parent is dangerous sometimes, you know?

That's J.P.'s "fishing pole" in his left hand. Dig the binoculars around his neck, a must for an outdoorsman like him.

Yes, this is a photo of a mushroom. At Radnor Lake.

Reindeer Cupcakes

2011-12-31T13:26:00.000-08:00

In keeping with holiday tradition, Jude and J.P. made "Reindeer Cupcakes" for Christmas Day.

Christmas Morning

2011-12-31T13:20:00.000-08:00

J.P. with his Home Depot blower. Notice the goggles on the top of his head. "Safety first," that's our motto.

J.P., poised for action on our "hockey rink," sporting his new hockey gloves and stick. Jude and I are raising a big, big hockey fan.

Fang Fingers for Grandma.

J.P., working at his table with what he calls "Playdo Foam."

Twas the Night After Christmas

2011-12-26T19:51:00.000-08:00

December 26, the night after Christmas, and I'm sitting in Bongo Java, feeling a little low that after so much anticipation, another Christmas has come and gone. I'm comforted slightly by the fact that the Christmas decorations are still up, complete with random stockings decorated and hung by each of the employees. I'm made more cheerful by the fact I'm staring at a one of our Christmas cards above the fireplace at Bongo Java - a 5 x 7 photograph of J.P. in our front yard, grinning, the autumn leaves piled up in the background. He and I dropped the card off on Christmas Eve. It's nice to see it again, one more time, before the holiday season ends and we march off into the doldrums of winter.

This was a banner Christmas season in our household, mostly because J.P. is the perfect age for Santa Claus. His innocence is so beautiful it's almost painful, like gazing into a cloudless sky so blue it hurts your eyes. He sat in Santa's lap not once but twice, first at the Green Hills Mall, then later at a children's event we attended at the Schermerhorn, home of the Nashville Symphony. Whenever J.P. was asked what he wanted Santa Claus to bring him for Christmas, the first and second things out of his mouth were a backpack and an ice scraper. Something tells me he's not going to be so easy to please forever.

Christmas Eve, we went to church with Jude's grandmother and family at St. Henry's. It's a massive church, so unlike St. Patrick, where we attend. The 6 p.m. service was packed. As was the case last year, Father Mike made quite an impression on J.P. Jude and I laughed from our aisle seat as J.P. waved at Father Mike walking past us as the service began. Later, when we were kneeling, Jude elbowed me and pointed down, where J.P. was on his knees with his hands clasped in prayer. Jude and I silently exchanged a proud look, sharing the moment.

After dinner at Jude's grandmother's house, we drove home and J.P. chattered away in the back seat. He didn't get to bed until after 10 p.m., probably the latest he has ever been awake. Before he went to bed, of course, he and Jude set out some "reindeer cupcakes" for Santa Claus and some pasta for the reindeer. Then, the fun began as Santa went to work assembling a two-sided easel for J.P. I was dismayed when I opened the box and emptied out several packages of screws and loose pieces of wood. Fortunately, Jude came to the rescue and with my not so able assistance, we had the easel up and ready to go in 45 minutes or so. I didn't get to bed until after 2 a.m.

Christmas morning, slightly past 6 a.m., J.P. woke up and climbed into bed with us, so excited he could barely contain himself. I went downstairs first, got the video camera ready, then Jude and J.P. followed me into the living room. He was amazed and literally beamed with happiness, as he examined everything Santa Claus had left for him in front of our fireplace. Curiously, he did ask me (again, just like last year), to close the fireplace screen, presumably in case Santa decided to return to our house. That made Jude and me laugh.

Jude's parents and her brother, James, and sister-in-law, Megan, had brunch at our house later Christmas morning. We exchanged gifts and, as always, Jane and Jimdad were generous to us. Between my mother and Jude's parents, J.P. is blessed to have such loving grandparents. Later that afternoon, I went for a quick Christmas Day run, while Jude, and J.P. napped. Next, it was off to my mother's house to eat again and celebrate Christmas with my family.

J.P. was especially pleased with his easel and his authentic hockey gloves and stick (he's a huge Pekke Rinne fan). The hit of the holiday, though, was the "Cars" walkie talkie set James and Megan gave him. He didn't want to put it down. In fact, we had to pry it out of his hands when we left for my mother's house Saturday afternoon. When we arrived back home, J.P. went upstairs, where he kept up a running conversation with Jude - via walkie talkie (or "talkie talkie," as he said) - on the progress of the grilled cheese sandwich she was cooking for his dinner.

This morning, he climbed into our bed - with the walkie talkies - about 6:30 a.m. and, despite my best efforts to pretend like I was asleep, insisted that I take one of the walkie talkies and go downstairs to get his morning milk, talking to him the entire time. I was dead tired, but I was also blissfully happy as I trudged down, then back up the stairs.

It's a bit strange and a bit sad, somehow, to think that this will be the last Christmas Jude, J.P. and I will share alone. Next year, three will be four, and I can't help but wonder how J.P. will adjust to not being the sole focus of our attention, as well as our family's. I think (and hope) it will be good for him. I can't help but feel that way, as I think about him snuggled next to Jude in her chair in our den this evening, talking directly to her stomach and telling his brother he can't wait to meet him.

It's all good.

The Salad Days

2011-12-14T07:29:00.000-08:00

My morning, so far.

0640 - Wake up to the sound of a bump (JP getting out of bed) and little feet running across the hardwood floor. JP climbs into our bed, crawls across Jude, puts his face right in my ear and says, "Daddy, can I have some milk?"

0650 - I get up, limp downstairs (running injury to my calf) and pour JP some milk. Check my cell phone and confirm that a mediation I had set for today settled at 11 p.m last night when the other attorney and her client accepted our final offer. Sweet! My day just got a lot easier.

0700 - Take JP his milk, hit the shower. Get out of the shower and start frying some bacon for his breakfast. Get dressed.

0730 - JP comes down to pretend "Bongo Java" (a.k.a. the kitchen) to eat breakfast. He pretends to be Johnny Bag of Doughnuts and I pretend to be Chad from Bongo Java (one of our favorite baristas at Bongo Java). I put on the Avett Brothers "Gleam" on the iPod. I take the old Kappa Sigma paddle from college down off the wall and pretend to play guitar. JP laughs. Jude walks in, looks at us, then shakes her head.

0800 - Time to brush teeth, we tell JP. He and I negotiate and ultimately settle on me getting first turn with the toothbrush, while he gets second and third turn. He asks me to leave the bathroom so he can go potty. JP needs his privacy. He's 3 1/2.

0815 - Time for JP and me to leave for school. Jude dresses JP in his heavy coat. I point out that it's going to be 60 degrees today. Jude responds that it's 40 degrees right now. I check my cell phone and tell her that it's actually 46 degrees now and will be 50 degrees by 9 a.m. Jude ignores me. Win some, lose some.

0820 - JP and I walk outside. I went to sleep last night and it was December and now it's April. Beautiful, beautiful day. Bright blue sky, brilliant sunshine and almost 50 degrees. Wow. It feels good to be alive, as JP I walk hand in hand to my truck.

0830 - I get to the front of the drop-off line at Children's House and JP hops out of my truck with his school bag. I shake my head in wonderment and remind myself how lucky we are that he has adjusted so well to school.

0835 - As I walk up on to the front deck at Bongo Java, I see Ms. Joyce and several other regulars sitting outside (in December!), enjoying the weather and their morning coffee. We chat for a minute or two.

0840 - I walk inside Bongo Java for a "mood elevator" (iced coffee drink) and toast. Because I'm a regular and Bongo Java is the center of my universe, Chenel doesn't charge me for my coffee. We chat about her impending move to Paris. She's another Bongo Java friend JP and I are really going to miss, but we're happy for her, because she's so happy.

0845 - As I'm about to sit down, Chad, the owner of Chago's Cantina (a Mexican restaurant a few doors down from Bongo Java) taps me on the shoulder, says hi, and invites JP, Jude and me to the restaurant Christmas party on Sunday. It's JP's favorite restaurant and he loves Chad, so I smile, thinking how excited he'll be when I tell him about the party.

0850 - I sit down at a table by a window in the front of Bongo Java with a nice view of the front deck. I relax, listening to some 1950's music on the sound system and watching people go in and out of the front door, bustling off to wherever they're going and whatever they're doing on an unseasonably warm day in mid-December in Nashville. I listen to the routine, mundane by comforting sounds of a coffee shop - coffee being made, music playing, people talking quietly. I look around and see people reading, taking notes, writing in notebooks. I see Rick (another regular) reading the NY Times, likes he does every morning. I'm overwhelmed by a feeling of contentment.

0925 - I finish my "mood elevator" and wish I could stop time.

From One Mayor to Another Mayor

2011-12-10T14:13:00.000-08:00

J.P. (future mayor of Nashville) shaking hands with our current mayor, Karl Dean, at the beginning of the Christmas Parade last Friday evening.

Christmas Parade

2011-12-10T14:09:00.000-08:00

For several years, I've said half-jokingly that I'm "the first man." Some might call me "Mr. White." In fact, I have been called "Mr. White." More than once and deservedly so, given that my wife is rather accomplished and well thought of in certain circles. Top 40 Under 40, Athena Award nominee (and she should have won, too), Nashville Bar Association board member, etc.

Most recently, Jude accepted a position as Director of the Governor's Cabinet for Children, in which she will be working closely with the first lady, Chrissie Haslam. That's in addition to her job with Mayor Dean's office. Okay, so you can see where this is going. My wife's an accomplished lady. Not only is she the smartest person I know, she's the best person I know.

Last Friday evening, through her job Mayor Dean's office, Jude, J.P. and I got ride in the Nashville Christmas Parade with a couple of her friends and their families. Any by ride in the parade, I mean we rode in the front of the parade in a vintage 1950's fire engine, open air, waving to people in downtown Nashville all along the parade route. It was crazy! Mayor Dean and the Commissioner of the Fire Department walked along behind us.

At one point, I leaned over to Jude and told her I understood how Miss Tennessee feels (waving to all of my adoring fans). I'm not sure that analogy works, but still.

The best part is J.P. has an absolute blast. We brought his noise reducing headphones (endorse by Drew Brees, no less), which was key as the fire engine behind us blasted its sirens for most of the ride. He was oblivious to the noise, happily staring over the edge of the fire engine and waving to the throngs of people stacked 4 and 5 deep along the parade route, a smile on his face.

It was a top 10 event, for sure, and an evening I'll always remember.

Swinging

2011-12-09T19:53:00.000-08:00

J.P., pushing the old man on a swing at Berry Hill Park a couple of weekends ago. Nice legs.

Groundhog Day

2011-12-09T19:47:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in the "crow's nest" at Bongo Java, upstairs, sipping a "mood elevator" and just trying to catch my breath. It's 9:30 p.m. and J.P. is in bed. Jude is down for the night and I'm almost down for the count.

We spent the morning at Baptist Hospital - again - before getting released to come home early this afternoon. Although the nurses there are great, we are so happy not to have to stay overnight again.

A quick recap - this morning, as I waited in the drop-off line at Children's House, my cellphone rang and I saw it was Jude calling. Ignoring my entreaties to stay home from work today, she planned to go to work, so I was surprised to hear from her so early. I thought maybe I had left something at the house. When I answered, she asked me where I was, then said "I think you need to come home." My heart sank.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"I feel dizzy and I think I might pass out," she replied.

"Are you having contractions?" I asked. "Yes," she said. Shit, I thought. Shit. "I'll be there in a minute."

I raced home and opened the front door to find Jude in my chair, reclined, feet up, white as a sheet. She had put a bag together in case we had to stay overnight at the hospital again and was waiting on a return call from the doctor's office. About 9 a.m., we got tired of waiting and decided to go on to the hospital. I packed a bag of my own, helped her down the sidewalk and into my truck.

As I started the engine and pulled away from the curb, I looked at her and said, "how fast do we need to get there?" "Fast," she answered. "I can handle that," I said, as I mashed the accelerator and sped up Acklen Avenue. I weaved in and out of traffic (sorry Mom) and easily busted the speed limit (sorry Mom) as I drove down Blakemore, then cut over to West End and, finally, Church Street. We parked in a handicapped spot in the parking garage, right by the door to triage, and walked inside. Within minutes, we were in a triage room and being attended to by a wonderful nurse, Jennifer.

Although Jude was having contractions again, the results of a couple of tests (the details of which I will spare you) revealed it was highly unlikely she was in labor. We also got a good, solid heartbeat on our baby immediately, which was reassuring in and of itself. The on call doctor (Dr. Forbes) was nice enough to walk over to triage and spend some time with us. She reviewed with us the results (which were good) of the ultrasound that was done Wednesday afternoon. Jude was given IV fluids again, but just for a little while, and we were out of the hospital by 12:30 p.m.

It was a long day at the end of a long, stressful week. If I had a dollar for every silent prayer I said today along, asking for Jude and our baby to be healthy and for her to carry him to term without complications, I would be a rich man. Then again, I am a rich man. My pregnant wife and our son, J.P., are safe at home asleep. And we're going to have another son in a couple of months. I'm a very rich man.

Crash

2011-12-07T20:57:00.000-08:00

Where to begin?

Yesterday, as I was leaving work, I got the telephone call from Jude I never wanted to get. The kind of telephone call no man wants to get when his wife is almost seven months pregnant.

"I've been in an accident," she said. "What!?!" I replied. "Someone rear-ended me at the intersection of Eighth Avenue and Division Street," she said. Jude's voice was eerily calm as a thousand terrifying images flashed through my mind. "I'm okay and the police are on the way," she continued.

Jude being Jude, she refused to ask for an ambulance to be sent to the accident scene. I decided it wasn't worth arguing about - mostly because I knew I couldn't change her mind - and told her stay in her vehicle and that I'd be there as quickly as I could. I cringed as I turned on to I-65 north, toward Nashville, when I saw how much traffic was on the interstate.

I called my friend, Hal Humphreys, who lives in our neighborhood. When I told him what had happened, he said, simply, "I'm on it." He hung up the telephone and drove straight to the accident scene which, thankfully, is only a couple of miles from our house. Knowing Hal would arrive before me to comfort Jude, to make sure she and our baby were all right, to insist on calling an ambulance if he thought one was needed - all of that meant the world to me. There are friends (and family) you can count on in life when disaster strikes and there are those you simply can't count on in those types of situations. Hal would travel to the ends of the earth, no questions asked, for me or for Jude. That's friendship.

When I finally arrived at the accident scene, I noticed the vehicles has been moved on to Division Street, out of traffic. I got out walked up to Jude's Honda Pilot, relieved to see there was little damage to the rear. Hal was standing next to the driver's side door and Jude was still sitting inside. Had her vehicle been damaged or had she been visibly injured, I might have "gone Nascar" on the college student driving the Subaru Outback that had rear-ended her and started punching him through his open window. Fortunately, he was apologetic and cooperative, which may have saved him from bodily injury. Seriously.

After the police officer finished his report, Jude drove to the hospital and I met her there. When the triage nurse realized she was having mild, but consistent contractions, she admitted Jude to the hospital for a 24-hour stay. Jude was dehydrated, as well, so the nurse put her on an IV to help rehydrate her. We anxiously watched the computer screen set up to monitor our baby's heartbeat with the fetal heart monitor attached to Jude's stomach. We also watched with some trepidation as the graph on the computer screen showed spikes that indicated Jude was having contractions.

After I went back to the house to pick up some things for Jude, we hunkered down in our room at Baptist Hospital to stay for the night. Our nanny and friend, Carley Meade, and her husband, Jon, stayed at our house with J.P. Like Hal, Carley and Jon are friends we can count on, no doubt. It was a long night, as you might imagine, and neither of us got much sleep. Jude's nurse came into our room regularly throughout the night and, frankly, hospitals just aren't very quiet.

By this morning, the contractions had stopped or were few and far between, thank God (and I did a lot of thanking God, during the night). Our doctor and friend, Roseann Maikis, told me she wanted Jude to stay in the hospital for 24 hours, which meant she could leave at 7 p.m. tonight. As I write this, Jude is upstairs, asleep (probably) and glad to be home. She's not as glad to be home as J.P. and I are to have her home.

My wife is a walking contradiction. She's the strongest person I know, the only person I know, in fact, that I would put in my mother's class in terms of inner strength. And that's saying something. And, yet, she's so tender, so gentle and motherly with J.P. - it's amazing to see it. She's a force of nature. I love her and I don't know what I would do without her.

2011-12-02T21:09:00.000-08:00

The magic Christmas ornament box.

2011-12-02T21:05:00.001-08:00

Just because I love J.P.'s "funny face."

Christmas Time

2011-12-02T21:04:00.000-08:00

Last weekend, the Friday after Thanksgiving, Jude, J.P. and I got our Christmas tree. At halftime of the Tennessee-Kentucky game (UT's first loss to UK in 26 years, but that's another sad, sad story), Jude's dad, Jim, and I brought the Christmas tree in and put it in the stand. That in itself was a much more enjoyable experience than normal, since Jude and I usually struggle to put the tree up, especially with J.P. underfoot.

J.P. was dead set on decorating the Christmas tree Saturday, so much so that he was really, really pissed when we told him we'd do to it Sunday. Needless to say, he was ecstatic when I brought the box of Christmas ornaments up from the basement Sunday afternoon, after church. I had forgotten how much he enjoyed getting the ornaments out of the box and handing them to us last year. This time around, he was bouncing up and down and waving his hands as we opened up the box of ornaments. He couldn't wait to fine his favorite ornament - a "Smokey" figurine (UT's mascot).

One by one, he took the ornaments out of the box and hung them carefully on the Christmas, mostly in the same spot on a low hanging branch. Within a few minutes, the branch in question was almost touching the ground, loaded down with all of his favorite ornaments (including Smokey). When we finished decorating the tree, J.P. laid down on the floor, on his stomach, and just stared at the Smokey ornament. Jude and I looked at each other and laughed.

Later, after his nap, we unpacked our other boxes of Christmas decorations. Again, J.P. really got a kick out of lifting each decoration out of the box, smiling in wonderment each time. It really made me appreciate Christmas even more to see him so excited to decorate the tree and the house.

Why?

2011-11-30T21:26:00.000-08:00

My cousin, Rick Newman, died yesterday in Hawaii. He was 29 and had his whole life ahead of him. He was a good looking kid (not a man, to me, but a kid), smart, charismatic with an infectious smile and a great sense of humor.

Although an autopsy has been performed, the toxicology report won't be back for a few weeks. His parents suspect alcohol was involved, as Rick has been battling an addiction to alcohol for at least a couple of years. That was his dark side, a side I never saw, because I didn't have the opportunity to spend much time with him, in person, over the years since he and his family lived in Phoenix and, more recently, Hawaii. I regret that, now, and I wonder if I could have made a difference in his life if I had established a closer relationship with him.

I've always had a great affinity for Rick and his younger brother, Rob, because of my relationship with their father, Dave Newman. Dave is my father's younger brother (my uncle) and I've always felt closer to my father through my relationship with Dave. My heart goes out to Dave, Renee (his wife) and Rob and I wish there was something I could say or do to ease their pain.

My mom, my sister and I traveled to Akron, Ohio, in June 2009 to attend Rick's wedding. We almost didn't make the trip, but ultimately decided to drive over and we were so glad we did. It ended up being one of those perfect weekends - the kind you can't plan - they just happen organically. It was so great to see several members of my dad's side of the family - people we rarely get to see. For me, as is and was always the case, it was like I had never away from Dave and his sons, Rick and Rob. We just picked up where we left off the last time I had seen them, giving each other grief, laughing and having fun.

Rick was in phenomenal shape and my enduring memory - one I'll cherish for the rest of my life - was going for a long run with Rick and a friend on a trail along the Cuyahoga River on the morning of the wedding. Rick fully intended to run me into the ground, but I turned the tables on him and he had to stop and walk by the end of the run. He was surprised that his "old" cousin, over the age of 40, could outrun him, even though I had warned him to watch out for the "old" guys. I kidded him about it the rest of the weekend, but I treasured the time we spend together on that long run, just running, talking and running. It was already a top 20, all time, run for me, and now it's a run I'll remember and treasure forever.

Alcoholism is such an insidious disease. It's reach, unfortunately, is limitless. Rich, poor, young, old, it doesn't matter. And now it's taken Rick, far too soon.

I'm rambling, I know. It's hard to understand why something like this happens. The real pain, I think, is in wondering what you could have done differently or what could have happened that might have resulted in a different outcome. The reality, though, harsh as it is, is that Dave and Renee (and Rob) did everything they could have possibly done for Rick. He had their support and their love but, in the end, he wasn't able to help himself. I can't explain it and I can't rationalize what happened. I sure as hell can't understand why Rick died. Something like this tests one's faith, no doubt, but all I an do is pray for Rick and pray for Dave, Renee and Rob.

Rick was a good kid - a wonderful kid - who did a lot of living in 29 years. I only wish he had more time.

Dave, Rick and Rob Newman at Rick's wedding in Akron, Ohio, in June 2009.

Plagued

2011-11-26T21:54:00.000-08:00

It's late and I'm sitting in my camping chair, on our front porch, underneath the icicle lights we hung today to mark the official beginning of Christmas Season at our house. It's unseasonably warm, as is has been as of late, but the wind is gusting ahead of rain and colder temperatures set to arrive tomorrow.

This morning, we took J.P. to the doctor. He's been battling a cough for at least a week. It's worse at night and it breaks my heart when he wakes up coughing and crying. It makes me feel like I'm failing him somehow, because I can't make him feel better. This morning, early, he looked up at me, crying, and said, "Daddy, why can't stop coughing." I could hear my heart breaking. Audibly.

Jude's sick with a cold, too, which doesn't help matters. I feel terrible for her, too, because she can't really take any medicine (not that she would anyway) since she's pregnant. I can't imagine anything more uncomfortable than being six months pregnant and having a sore throat and runny nose. Still, she fights through it because that's just her nature. Impervious to that which would cause the rest of us to complain.

Our doctor prescribed some cough medicine for J.P., but when we read the fine print on the prescription (warnings, possible side effects, etc.) we got scared and gave him a teaspoon of the over-the-counter cough medicine we've tried before. I hope he sleeps a little better tonight.

Ever since he started school this fall, it seems like he's had one cold after another. From what I read, that's normal, as he's exposed to other children (and their germs) on a daily basis. When he was with our nanny, Carley, every day, he wasn't around other children regularly and, consequently, he never got sick. Hopefully, he'll build up his immunities and when he starts kindergarten in two or three years, he won't have to deal with this anymore. That's what I keep telling myself, anyway.

That kind of brings me around to the point of this post. Three years ago today, my longtime friend, Benton, lost his daughter, Elizabeth, to an insidious disease after a relatively brief two week illness. Elizabeth was a senior in high school with her life ahead of her. She was athletic, smart, funny and extremely popular, just like her father and mother. She also was an only child. She was her mother's best friend. Her death wrecked Benton and Carrie. They've persevered but I know they're struggling this weekend.

They're in my thoughts and prayers often, but especially this weekend. Thanksgiving weekend. My son is sick with a cold and I'm sick with worry. In the scheme of things, as I think about Benton and Carrie and what they have been through and are going through, my worries seem rather insignificant.

Rest in Peace, Elizabeth, and know you are loved and remembered today and always.

2011-11-24T14:00:00.000-08:00

Jude's cousin, Rebecca White, and J.P. at Thanksgiving.

2011-11-24T13:53:00.000-08:00

Maddie and Colton (a.k.a. "Cletus") White.

2011-11-24T13:51:00.000-08:00

"VU Jane" and "Uncle Johnny"

Two Peas in a Pod

2011-11-24T13:44:00.000-08:00

Jude and her cousin, Colleen Blanchard, at the White Family Thanksgiving Dinner (Actually, there are two peas in Colleen's pod - twins. One pea in Jude's pod).

Bird Feeders

2011-11-24T13:35:00.000-08:00

Jude and J.P. filling up the bird feeders for the first time this year.

Chasing the Leaves

2011-11-11T20:17:00.000-08:00

Tuesday morning, before work, I was cooking bacon for JP's breakfast when I looked out into the backyard and saw leaves falling like snow. I was excited, because one of my favorite pasttimes in the fall in trying to catch falling leaves. It's tough, obviously, because like snowflakes, all leaves are slightly different and, as a result, they fall differently from the trees. Some fall straight down, but most are caught by the wind and change directions several times before landing on the ground.

As Carley arrived at the house (JP's school was closed for parent-teacher conferences), J.P. and I were in the front yard, staring up into the branches of our stately old maple tree. Every minute or so, a breeze would ruffle the branches and leaves would begin to fall. J.P. would squeal with delight, then take off running to catch a falling leaf. He was having so much fun, I couldn't help but smile as I watched him.

Jude came outside and walked to her car, prepared to head to work. When she saw how much fun we were having, she set her work stuff down in her car and joined us in the yard to chase leaves. I went inside and grabbed the video camera so I could capture the moment for posterity. It was awesome, just watching Jude, J.P. and Carley chasing the falling leaves, laughing the whole time. Even after Jude left for work, I just sat on the front porch for a few minutes and watched J.P. and Carley. It was a morning I didn't want to ever end.

Pumpkin Puke

2011-11-11T19:53:00.000-08:00

I've always wanted to carve a pumpkin like this. For Halloween this year, I did. Oh, and J.P. really liked it, by the way.

Blessed

2011-11-09T08:53:00.000-08:00

Blessed. That's what I am.

Jude and I had another ultrasound this morning - 23 weeks - and everything looks great. Our soon to be born son measured about 25 weeks and is in the 96th percentile in size, which is really, really good news. That's almost exactly where J.P. was at this stage of the game.

During the ultrasound, he was active, rolling around, grabbing his toes and opening and closing his mouth. It's truly amazing to be able to see him in such detail and to realize that right there, Jude is carrying our new son in her womb. Watching the ultrasound, our eyes riveted on the screen, it's an intensely emotional and personal experience for both of us. We sit there, in silence, waiting for any sign or word from the ultrasound technician that what she is seeing is what she is supposed to be seeing. If she's not talking much - liked she wasn't at first today - our minds begin to race, infused with doubt. Then, when she tells us everything looks great - like she did today - our hearts soar with relief.

While the journey is somehow different this time around, the emotions are largely the same at certain points, like today. When I see our son on the screen - his arms, legs, hands and feet - I'm again struck by the miracle of life. We're not there yet and we have some distance left to travel on this journey, but I think I can almost see, ahead in the distance, our destination. We're going to get there, one day at a time.

Trails

2011-11-05T14:34:00.000-07:00

This morning, I returned to Percy Warner Park for another run on one of the horse trails there. It was an exquisite fall morning, rolling fog and temperatures in the low to mid-40's. There was a flurry of activity at the entrance to the park on Belle Meade Boulevard, a melange of walkers, runners and bikers.

I've enjoyed running on the horse trails the last two weekends, in part because I haven't run them before and it's a little bit of an adventure to run where I haven't run before. There's the fear of getting lost, which in my case, is a legitimate fear (I've gotten lost in Percy Warner Park before, although that was almost 20 years ago). Plus, the trails are fairly hilly and technically difficult, given that the carpet of falling leaves covers roots and loose rocks.

I only saw one other runner on the horse trail this morning, so I was able to enjoy my run in solitude, alone with my iPod and the random songs from my music library playing on it. The scenery along the horse trail on which I was running was almost breathtakingly beautiful, bright sunshine burning off the fog and illuminating the gold leaves on the path that had changed color and fallen from the trees.

A couple of miles into the run, I sensed movement to my right, just off the trail. I looked over and was almost face to face with an 8-point buck. He just stood there, placidly, and stared at me, maybe 10 feet away. I chuckled to myself, said hello and kept running. I turned around at the 3-mile mark and on the run back to the trail head, I saw a shadow out of the corner of my eye, moving overhead. I looked up in time to see a large owl swoop majestically in the sky above me, then land in a tree nearby. I stopped and looked up at the owl (I really, really like owls) and he looked right back at me until I continued on my way. Near the end of my run, I saw a doe just off the trail. Again, she didn't run away from me. She just stood and stared at me as I ran by her.

I finished my run by galloping down the ancient, steep, stone stairs to the entrance to the park, John Prine's "Lake Marie" playing on my iPod. A good way to end a top 20 run, the kind of run I search for all year long when I lace up my running shoes and head out the door. I'm lucky to find 5 of those types of runs a year and I'm blessed to have found one this morning.

Musicology

2011-11-03T21:01:00.000-07:00

On the way home from a late night trip to Kroger this evening, I listened to the Avett Brothers' "Left on Laura, Left on Lisa." It's a fantastic song and, tonight especially, I couldn't help but smile as I listened to it. I was struck, really struck by that song the very first time I heard it. I immediately knew the Avett Brothers would be a band I would love. And I do.

More importantly, J.P. quickly fell in love with the Avett Brothers, too. First, it was "Left on Laura, Left on Lisa," which he calls "the sad song." Later, it was "I and Love and You" and "Die Die Die." At any given time, actually, he's really into a different Avett Brothers' song, which he asks me to play over and over again as we drive to school in the mornings.

That song, in particular, makes me smile, because I can vividly recall driving around the neighborhood when he first heard it, just listening to it, together. He didn't want me to take us home. He just wanted to drive around and listen to "Left on Laura, Left on Lisa." The cool thing is he loved the song independently of anything I told him. He heard it, liked it and asked me to play it . . . again and again and again. The fact that we both loved the same song makes me feel there is something in our "musical DNA" that makes us enjoy the same type of music. I'll have to see if that holds true when he's a teenager.

2011-10-30T20:46:00.001-07:00

Margaret White, Rita White, J.P. and Jude at Tom White's farm.

2011-10-30T20:44:00.000-07:00

J.P. and his cousin, Maddie White, at Tom White's farm Saturday night.

Hayride!

2011-10-30T20:41:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, J.P., Jude and I went to Tom White's farm in Dickson for their annual Halloween Party/Chili Cook-off. A few years ago, Tom (Jude's uncle) bought a cabin on 12 acres or so, just on the Dickson County side of the county line. Over time, he bought a couple of parcels of land from neighbors, as well as a barn he's totally renovated. Now, he owns about 80 acres (I think) that's adjacent to a creek. It's really a nice spread and we love going out there.

The highlight of the afternoon, for J.P., turned out to be the hayride. In the past, he's had what seems to be an irrational fear of hayrides, which is strange, because he loves tractors. Last year, at the same party, he flat refused to go on the hayride. A few weeks ago, at Genry Farm in Franklin, he wouldn't get on the hayride. Then, at "Ghouls at Grassmere" (Halloween at the Nashville Zoo), he again refused to go on the hayride.

When Tom's friend, Bud, drove the tractor down to the barn for the first hayride, J.P. climbed aboard the trailer full of hay bales with Jude and her grandmother, although he wasn't very happy about it. I climbed up and sat next to J.P. and Jude's dad sat down next to me. As the tractor started forward with a lurch, J.P. whimpered a little bit and held onto to Jude a little tighter. Pretty quickly, though, as we rode slowly around the farm, he perked up and started smiling, laughing and pointing at different things he saw. Later, he said, "I told you it would be fun, Mommy." Right.

J.P. adores Bud, having met him at the party last year. As the hayride ended, J.P. asked Bud if he would sit with us when we ate chili, like he had last year. Much to his delight, Bud sat down and ate with us after he finished a couple more tours around the farm on the tractor.

Later, after we got home and J.P. was getting ready for bed, he couldn't stop talking about how much fun he had on the hayride. Pretty cool.

Fair Weather in My Hemisphere

2011-10-26T20:45:00.000-07:00

It's late October, about 10:30 p.m., and I'm sitting in my chair on the front porch after a run, listening the to the crickets - they're particularly vocal tonight - and watching the leaves fall to the ground under the streetlight as a light but insistent breeze blows. As the breeze picks up steam, it rustles the leaves in the stately old maple tree in our front yard and the branches sway just a bit. It's a great time of night and a real treat to be sitting outside with the temperature hovering in the low 60s, glass of wine by my side.

I've been fighting a cold and cough since late last week, so I took Monday and Tuesday off from running. It was killing me and it's supposed to turn cold and rainy tomorrow. I couldn't help myself, so I ventured out for a quick 3-mile night run through the neighborhood. It was good to knock the rust off my legs, so to speak, and get a run in, although my cough has picked up again since I got back. Sitting here on my front porch and listening to the sounds of the city, relatively late in the evening, is probably the time of day when I love my house and where I live the most.

J.P. accompanied Jude and me this afternoon to see Roseann Maikis, our friend and Jude's Ob/Gyn. Although he was a little skittish at first, J.P. quickly warmed up in the waiting room when he saw there was a play area. Our nurse, Gina, found our new son's heartbeat easily and it sounded strong and fast. J.P. wasn't so wild about the noise (he's never wild about noises), so for the most part, he kept his hands over his ears while we listened to the heartbeat. When Roseann came in to examine Jude and talk with us, J.P. was great. He showed Roseann his doctor's bag (he's brought it to her office) and pulled out the plastic stethoscope so she could see it. Roseann was fantastic with him.

Jude's gained almost 10 pounds, which is right where Roseann wants her to be, 22+ weeks into the pregnancy. Roseann was pleased with the results of the 20-week ultrasound and told us the baby is growing like he should be. Good news all the way around.

In a couple of weeks, Jude will go in for a test to see if she has gestational diabetes. Last time around, she did, so it's more likely she will have it again this time. If she does, it will mean pricking her finger a few times a day and watching her diet very closely. She's already been staying away from sweets and juices, for the most part, so we're hopeful that she may not have gestational diabetes.

All in all, we're good to go. Not ready to launch, yet, but getting there. Like so much in life, we're taking it one day at a time and trying to live in the moment. And as moments go, it's a pretty good one to live in for a while.

The Fab Four

2011-10-24T21:25:00.001-07:00

Wolf, J.P., Scout and Finn - the Fab Four

Bath Time for J.P. and Finn

2011-10-24T21:21:00.000-07:00

This is maybe one of the greatest photos I've ever taken and, for sure, one that's going to be shown in public twice - once at J.P.'s wedding and once at Finn's wedding. Once if they marry each other.

The Ladies

2011-10-24T21:15:00.000-07:00

2011-10-24T21:13:00.001-07:00

Jude, Uncle Carley and Jonny Love

2011-10-24T21:11:00.000-07:00

Great and Margaret

Family

2011-10-24T21:08:00.000-07:00

Leaf Party Kids

2011-10-24T21:03:00.000-07:00

2011-10-24T20:51:00.000-07:00

My paralegal, Jenn Blankenship and her daughter, Izzy.

Table for Two

2011-10-24T20:48:00.000-07:00

Finn and J.P., eating dinner, Friday night.

Leaf Party IX

2011-10-24T20:40:00.000-07:00

Tuesday night, J.P. and Jude and in bed, and I'm watching game 5 of the World Series (Cardinals vs. Rangers). I love baseball. Still, after all these years, it's my favorite sport to watch and follow.

The Baines' clan was in town staying with us, Friday - Sunday, for Leaf Party IX. As always, we had a great time, a great party and, as always, the weekend went by way too fast. We started the Leaf Party tradition nine years ago - which, in itself, is hard to believe - when Cyndi and Troy moved home to Florida with their two kids (three now), Wolf and Scout. The party was a way to get them back to town, something unique and really, created as an event for friends of theirs (and ours) to come to our house to see them. At that point, Jude and I didn't have a child, but we absolutely loved hosting the party and playing int he leaves with all of our friends' children. The Leaf Party is more meaningful for us now, since we can share it with J.P.

I took Friday afternoon off work, so Jude and I could meet Cyndi, Troy, Wolf, Scout and Finn at our house when they arrived, about 1:30 p.m. After spending a few minutes in the front yard marveling at how big Wolf and Scout have gotten, we piled into the mini-van Cyndi had rented for the trip and drove over to 12South to pick up lunch at a new restaurant, Sloco. We bought sandwiches and walked over to Sevier Park. While Jude and Cyndi talked quietly, sitting on a granite wall by the swing sets, watching Finn, Wolf and Scout explored the culvert where water flows, creek-like, when it rains.

We dropped Cyndi off at Rumor's Wine Bar to meet a friend for a glass of wine, then Troy, Wolf, Scout, Finn and I drove to Bongo Java. After I got a cup of coffee, we walked over to Belmont and kicked the soccer ball around on the soccer field. It was a gorgeous afternoon and we alternated kicking the ball back and forth, playing "monkey in the middle" and sprawling in the grass.

Jude's parents came to our house to watch J.P. and Finn, while Jude and Cyndi attended their law school class's 15th reunion at Vanderbilt. Troy and grabbed a bite to eat, then came home to put the kids to bed.
Jude came in late - after midnight - and Cyndi came in really late, but that's another story. Suffice to say that when Jude's law school classmates get together, and it's rare that it happens, trouble isn't far behind.

Saturday morning dawned clear and cool - Leaf Party Day! I headed out to run errands - grocery store, liquor store, etc. - while at home, it was all hands on deck (kids included) to get ready for the party. While the leaves didn't cooperate this year - they're late falling, though we did have the party a week early - our friends and their children had a blast, as always.

After everyone left, it was nap time for Jude, J.P., Troy and Finn. Cyndi went for a "punishment run," and it really, really punished her. Wolf, Scout and I went on our "secret walk" to Belmont, a tradition we started several years ago. We walked to Chago's Cantina on Belmont Blvd. and sat at an outside table, drinking water and eating chips, then walked across the street to Buzzy's candy store. Next, we played frisbee on the soccer field at Belmont. It was one of the highlights of the weekend, as it is for me every year, just spending time with Wolf and Scout. I've know them - literally - since they were born and I've watched them grow up (11 and 10 years old now). They're amazing kids and it tickles me to death when they call me "Uncle Phil." We pretended we were spies on the way home, ducking and hiding behind trees, telephone poles and anything else we we could find.

Saturday night, we watched football and ate takeout food from Smiling Elephant, an amazing Thai restaurant on 8th Avenue, within walking distance of our house. Sunday morning, I went for a run and finished at Bongo Java for a cup of coffee. We ate a big breakfast when I got back, then Troy packed the mini-van and off they went, back to Florida.

As they pulled away, Cyndi looked at us, teary eyed, through the open window of the mini-van. I looked at Jude and J.P., sitting on the wall in our front yard, bordering the sidewalk, and noticed Jude had tears in her eyes, too. The Leaf Party weekends are all bittersweet to us. It's so good, so very good, to see Cyndi, Troy and the kids and we pack so much into a weekend. Still, it's so sad when they leave. For me, I feel sentimental and nostalgic, knowing it will be a year before I see them again and that the kids will have grown and changed in ways that will astound me.

Life is, you know, life. It's messy. It's complicated. It's hard and it's wonderful. It's memorable. It's sad, sometimes, but it's fun, too. Life makes you laugh and it makes you cry. The key, though, to me, is having people in your life - friends - to share it with, even if it's only once or twice a year. For us, the foundation of our friendship with Troy and Cyndi was laid long, long ago (more so for Jude and Cyndi, obviously, who met in law school) and it's strong enough, I think to withstand the tests of distance and time. It just works, without much effort and without any real explanation, as all good friendships do.

These are the Times

2011-10-09T21:06:00.000-07:00

I'm smack dab in the middle of one of those rare, quiet moments of pure contentment. It's the kind of moment that doesn't come along often enough, one I wish I could save somewhere close to my heart and conjure up when things aren't as peaceful.

I'm sitting in my camping chair on the front porch, in the dark, listening to the drone of crickets and the nearby sound of traffic on the side streets and, farther away, the interstate. The soft, indistinct murmur of voices from my next door neighbor's house drifts through the hedges separating our houses. It's incredibly pleasant outside tonight, 63 degrees with not a hint of a breeze. I'm sipping a glass of wine after a strong 4 mile run through the neighborhood.

Jude and I returned home this afternoon from our annual fall weekend in Las Vegas with "the Foodbrothers" - a few of her college friends and assorted others who we meet there every year to watch and bet on college football games. We missed J.P. terribly, but it was nice for the two of us to get away for the weekend. When we got home, he was just up from his nap and really excited to see us. It's crazy, but we both remarked that it seemed like he had gotten taller since we left three days ago.

Jude looks more beautiful than ever. Pregnancy really becomes her, as she just seems to radiate a sense of happiness, or something else I can't quite put my finger on. The 20-week ultrasound is Tuesday, which is big. That's when we find out the sex of the baby and, hopefully, learn that everything is on target and looks good for a healthy baby. On my run tonight, as I do most nights when I go for a run, I stopped by Christ the King (a Catholic church on Belmont Boulevard) and said a quick prayer at the statue of the Virgin Mary, asking for blessing and good health for our unborn child and for J.P., as well.

So much of what we're going through is about faith, for me at least. Faith that Jude and our baby will be healthy. Faith that we'll be able to handle two children, as opposed to one. Faith that J.P. will adjust to having a brother or sister. Faith that I'll figure out how to love a new child as much as I love J.P. Faith that I can be the father I need to be to both children and the husband Jude needs me to be. Faith that God has a plan and that everything will be all right. Faith.

That's all for now. I hear a train in the distance, horn blowing as it travels through my city. Now, I hear a jet overhead, as it travels over my city. I think I'm going to sit on my front porch, finish my wine and listen to the sounds of the city. Then, I'm going to go upstairs, check on J.P. and climb in bed next to my pregnant wife. It doesn't get much better than that, does it?

Vegas!

2011-10-06T22:07:00.000-07:00

Jude and I are in Vegas, staying at the Wynn, waiting for the rest of the Foodbrothers' crew to arrive tomorrow afternoon. It's a trip we've made each fall for the past 10 or 11 years.

Jude's asleep in the bed in our hotel room and I'm sitting at the desk, on my computer, listening to Wilco's new album with ear buds in, smiling as I look over at her. My lovely, pregnant wife. She's beautiful.

Happy Birthday St. Patrick!

2011-10-05T21:22:00.000-07:00

I like this photo. I really do. That's one happy boy.

Pumpkins

2011-10-05T21:20:00.000-07:00

The Ladies

2011-10-05T21:16:00.000-07:00

Jude and Ann Marie Elliott at Gentry Farm.

Gentry Farm

2011-10-05T21:14:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, Jude, J.P. and I went to Gentry Farm in Franklin with our good friends and former neighbors, Rob, Ann Marie and Ayden Elliott. First, we stopped by their house for pancakes, then we drove down to Franklin. As always, it was great to see them.

Ayden and J.P. are growing up so fast. It's crazy to watch them together. It seems like yesterday that we were walking around the neighborhood with them in strollers. Now, we talk about their schools, what they're learning and general kid stuff. Not baby stuff, but kid stuff. Time passes by so quickly.

Predictably, the kids loved Gentry Farm. They played in the barns, walked through a hay bale maze (in a barn) and picked pumpkins from the pumpkin patch. Actually, they didn't "pick" pumpkins, They found them, slightly hidden in the patch, kind of like an Easter Egg hunt. The four of us laughed and laughed, as they pulled out pumpkin after pumpkin and lined them up on the path. Finally, they each picked out a pumpkin for us to buy and take home.

On the way home, we stopped by for lunch at the Bunganut Pig in Franklin. Of course, I love the Pig so it was a real treat for me to take everyone for lunch there.

Really, just a nice fall Saturday morning with Rob, Ann Marie and Ayden. We miss them but it's always good to get together.

Sunday at Bongo Java

2011-10-02T11:42:00.000-07:00

This morning, when we got up, it was 41 degrees outside. I think it's safe to day that fall has arrived.

For the first time in months, it was too cold to sit outside at Bongo Java, so J.P. and I took out customary seat in the back. A few other regulars sat back there with us, too, and we had a nice Sunday morning breakfast.

Making Pizza!

2011-10-02T11:29:00.000-07:00

Friday night, Jude and J.P. made pizza for dinner. Cheese pizza, actually, because J.P. doesn't like anything on pizza other than cheese. That works out well for Jude, too, since due to her pregnancy, she's not supposed to eat deli meats (ham, pepperoni, etc.).

Anyway, J.P. loved making pizza. Definitely something we'll be doing again soon.

Soccer

2011-09-26T22:18:00.000-07:00

Lately, on our nightly trips to Belmont, J.P. and I have been spending more and more time on the soccer field playing soccer. He has a small-sized soccer ball I picked up a long time ago at Athlete's House. I keep it in the back of my truck and we get it out each night we're up there.

He's really pretty good with the soccer ball. Usually, he runs onto the field when we get there, throws the ball on the ground, then takes off running and kicking it across the field (or dribbling, as they say in the World Cup). I chase him and he squeals as I get closer to him, laughing. As he kicks the soccer ball over the paved track at the end of his run, I yell "GOOOOOOAAAAL!" After a couple of good runs back and forth across the field, we stop and take turns "passing" the ball to each other.

It's awesome, really, because he'll kick the ball to me, then I'll kick it right back to him. Sometimes, he'll miss the ball completely and just laugh, which makes me laugh. Other times, he kicks it right back to me, which is pretty cool. He's clearly right footed but, with encouragement, he'll kick the ball to me with his left foot, as well. Although I know virutally nothing about soccer, I enjoy every minute of our time playing soccer together.

Tonight, we stood on the side of the soccer field nearest the tennis courts, passing the ball to each other. I kicked it backwards to J.P., with my heel, much to his delight. He tried to do the same thing, but couldn't quite manage it. He got tickled as he tried, which made me laugh even harder. We stood there on the soccer field, bathed in the light from the tennis courts, laughing and laughing. Not talking, just laughing.

That's what it's all about, I think.

Tennessee State Fair

2011-09-18T20:47:00.000-07:00

The fairgrounds - home of the annual Tennessee State Fair - is about a mile from our house. We went to the State Fair last year and J.P. had so much fun that almost every Sunday since then when we drove through the fairgrounds on our way to church, he asked when the Fair would be back in town. Much to his delight, the Fair arrived a couple of weeks ago and we made plans to go Thursday night.

As we prepared to leave the house, J.P was so excited he was literally bouncing up and down and grinning from ear to ear. Unbridled joy, for sure.

As always, the food didn't disappoint. Although I threatened to get a beef sundae, I didn't. I did, however, eat a corn dog, french fries, most of Jude's Frito chili pie and some of J.P.'s soft serve ice cream. Oh, and I had a small cup of chocolate milk from the Purity Milk exhibition booth. And I felt sick on the way home. Yep, that's the State Fair.

For sure, J.P.'s favorite ride of the night was the Euroslide. He rode it with me for the first time last year and loved it. This year was no different. If we rode it once, we rode it 8 times and J.P. enjoyed it every time we slid down.

We rode a small, "caterpillar" roller coaster made for children. It was a bit loud for him, but he tolerated it pretty well.

He really got a kick out of skeeball, especially when I won a prize and he got to pick it out. The funniest part, though, was when he threw two of the wooden balls completely off the track and under a trailer. He cried when we wouldn't let him crawl under a tractor trailer to try and find them.

The safest thing we did at the State Fair was walk through the agricultural exhibit in one of the convention halls. Of course, that's where J.P. tripped and fell into a small picket fence and got his first bloody nose. Go figure.

Thomas the Train Comes to Town

2011-09-18T20:22:00.000-07:00

Two Saturdays ago, Thomas the Train was in town and, much to J.P.'s delight, we went to see him, live and in person at the Tennessee Railway Museum. J.P. loves Thomas the Train and he could wait to "talk" to him and ride in a train he was pulling.

The ride itself was nothing to write home about, given that the train essentially backed down the tracks in one direction for ten minutes, then reversed course and drove forward up the same set of tracks back into the "station." Still, it was cool for J.P. to get to ride as a passenger on a train and he really enjoyed it. I enjoyed it, too, at least the part where I dozed off.

Volleyball

2011-09-10T09:00:00.000-07:00

In mid-August, a couple of weeks before fall semester began, J.P. and I met several members of the women's volleyball team on a couple of our nightly trips to Belmont's campus. They were really sweet to him and made quite an impression, as he's asked about them quite often since then.

Tuesday night after dinner, J.P. and I drove to campus, parked and walked into the Curb Center. We took the elevator upstairs and, as we got off, heard noise coming from the gym. We walked in and were tickled to death to see the women's volleyball team playing a match against Tennessee Tech. Across the gym floor, J.P. saw Kelsey, one of the girls he really likes, and he waves to her. Smiling and trying not to be seen by the coach, she furtively waved back.

Within a few minutes, the match was over, Belmont winning all 3 games. After the teams shook hands at center court, I turned J.P. loose and he ran across the court to Belmont's team. Several of the girls recognized him and their faces lit up as he ran toward them. They were smiling and laughing as he gave them high fives and hugs. The ones that had met him were really pleased we had come to see them play. It was a sweet moment. I think we'll stop by on Tuesday, when they're playing the University of Dayton.

It's Fall!

2011-09-10T08:45:00.000-07:00

I'm unwinding after an 8-mile trail run in Shelby Bottoms, sitting on our front porch listening to the city sounds on a gorgeous, 60 degree fall morning. Birds are chirping contentedly in the trees, the occasional car passes in front of my house and I can hear, in the distance, the sounds of one of the many ongoing construction projects at Belmont University. A light breeze is rustling the leaves of our stately, old Maple Tree and I can hear that, too. There are football games to be watched - college today and pro tomorrow - the weekend has begun and fall is officially here!

Chuckie

2011-09-06T22:16:00.000-07:00

Here's looking at you, kid.

Laura

2011-09-06T22:06:00.000-07:00

J.P. adores, and I mean adores, Jude's cousin, Laura McCutcheon (I guess that makes J.P. and Laura second cousins). For a while, when Laura was between jobs, she nannied for him. Laura is a wonderful person and in the relatively brief period of time she kept him for us, she made quite an impression on him.

Recently, Laura was home for a month from Spain, where she's been living and working for several months. She came over one night and we all went to a Nashville Sounds' game. When Laura arrived at our house, J.P. was so excited he couldn't contain himself. Jude and I have never seen him talk so much, so fast, about so many different things in so short a period of time. He was insistent on telling Laura about everything that was going on in his life, big or small, as quickly as possible.

Jude and I always have been so impressed with how good Laura is with J.P. - how well she connects with him. To me, Laura has just always seemed to radiate a certain happiness and it rubs off on other people. Certainly, it's rubbed off on J.P. He just enjoys being around her. It's been that way from day one, whenever she's been around him. Laura is going to be a wonderful mother, someday. I'm convinced of it.

It's funny, but one of the most rewarding things about my relationship with Jude's family and, in particular, her many cousins, has been watching all of them grow up. When I first met most of them, they were just kids, literally. Now, they're out of college, working and some are even married and have children. It's been one of my great pleasures to watch, often from afar, as they have matured into adulthood.

Children's House

2011-09-06T21:50:00.000-07:00

Today was J.P.'s second day of school at Children's House. So far, so good. Here are a few photos from his first day of school, last Friday.

Buckle Your Seatbelt

2011-09-03T07:47:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting at Bongo Java, alone, at the table in the back where J.P. and I have had a many a breakfast. I got up a little early for a Saturday morning, hoping to beat the heat when I ran the trails at Shelby Bottoms and, also, hoping for a little quiet time to collect my thoughts. It's nice, just listening to the sounds of people talking in the front room and of coffee and drinks being made. I can hear Chad, Megan (J.P.'s favorite Bongo Java barristas) and a few other employees laughing and taking orders. It sounds like home.

Where to begin?

Jude's pregnant. Our doctor and friend, Roseann Maikis, gave us the green light at our visit with her on Wednesday to start spreading the news. In classic Jude vs. Phil fashion, since Wednesday Jude has shared our news with only a handful of people, mostly immediately family and close friends. I've told friends, co-workers, acquaintances, etc. I haven't mentioned it to complete strangers, although I've been tempted to. I can't stop smiling and, really, it was difficult for me to focus on anything at work this week. Every few minutes, I took out the ultrasound pictures, looked at them, and started smiling again.

It's weird - Jude and I were laughing about this the other day - but we can't remember much, if anythying, about her pregnancy with J.P. We can't remember the details, at least, or what happens at particular doctor's visits. You'd think she'd been pregnant with J.P. more than a decade ago, given how much trouble we have recalling what we learned then during the process.

We don't know if it's a boy or girl. We'll find out at the 20-week ultrasound, which is scheduled for six or seven weeks from now (Jude's around 13 weeks now, give or take a few days). We've got a long way to go and we realize that, but so far, so good. I don't feel as nervous as I was when Jude was pregnant with J.P., but that may change.

It's so amazing, so life affirming for Jude and me (and, yes, J.P.) to be starting out toegher on this journey again. It's kind of like taking a trip or a vacation and discovering a beautiful, idyllic spot with a wonderful view and, as you start to leave, feeling a little melancholy or nostaligic because you know, in your lifetime, you will probably never stand there with the same view again. Somehow, miraculously, you find yourself back in that same spot a few years later and it's just as beautiful, just as breathtaking, as it was the first time you stood there. Nothing has changed and everything has changed, but here you are, again.

That's how I feel.

School Daze

2011-09-01T22:46:00.000-07:00

And so it goes.

Tomorrow, J.P. has his first day of school at Children's House, the Montessori Day School he'll be attending (full time!) this year. He'll go to school 3 days a week from 8:30 a.m. to 3:30 p.m. 2 days a week, Carley will pick him up at 11:30 a.m.

It absolutely boggles my mind that already, after what seems like such a relatively short period of time, J.P. is going to school full time. It's crazy! Just yesterday, or so is seems, he was with me, laying on a quilt in the front yard, crawling for the first time. I frantically called Jude - who was sleepings upstairs - to come watch him crawl.

And now he's starting school.

I just don't get how time could pass by so quickly. One day I'm strolling him down to Bongo Java, the next day we're dropping him off at school. So many memories flicker in my mind. 3 1/2 years have passed by in an instant. I suspect I'll cry more tomorrow morning than he does.

Damn. Now he's starting school.

Instant Replay

2011-08-31T21:10:00.000-07:00

If you like this blog, I'm pasting a link below to another blog I thing you'll also enjoy.

http://thestorkstopshereagain.blogspot.com/

Uncle Carley

2011-08-25T22:08:00.000-07:00

Where to begin?

Today marked the end of the last 3-day week our nanny and friend, Carley Meade, will ever spend with J.P. Carley is out of town next week and the week after, J.P. starts school at Children's House. She's going to pick him at school at lunchtime two days a week, but in reality, we passed a significant milestone in J.P.'s life today. It's a milestone I've seen up ahead in the distance for a while, but one I secretly hoped we wouldn't reach so soon.

How do I thank someone who was already a friend, but over the past 3 + years has become a part of our family?

How do I thank someone who has loved my son more than I ever could have asked?

How do I thank someone who held my son's hand as he learned to walk, who helped teach him to speak, who fed him, who bathed him, who changed more diapers than I ever did?

How do I thank someone who made my son laugh, who read to him, who played music for him, who sang songs and danced with him?

How do I thank someone who allowed me - an overprotective, paranoid, terrified first-time parent - go to work every day without having to worry if my son would be okay until I got home?

How do I thank someone who protected, nurtured and cared for the most precious gift I've received to date in my life?

How do I thank someone who put my son down for a nap and was there when he woke up, day after day, almost from the day he was born?

How do I thank someone who, along with Jude and me, has been a constant in my son's life from the beginning?

How do I thank someone who drove to my house late on a Friday night and stayed with my son when Jude and had to make an unplanned trip to the emergency room?

How do I thank someone who taught my son to play hockey in the hall, who staged concerts with him and his stuffed animals in the den, who fingerpainted with him and who drew chalk pictures with him on the sidewalk?

How do I thank someone who reassured me when I worried that my son wasn't crawling soon enough, wasn't walking soon enough and wasn't talking soon enough?

How do I thank someone who is so creative she helped my son develop a vivid imagination?

Jude and I can never repay the debt we owe Carley for loving and caring for J.P. the past 3 + years. She's a part of him, just as Jude and I are, and maybe that's her legacy. Carley has helped him become who he is and who he will be and that will never change.

Carley, Jude and I love you for what you've meant to our son and for the positive impact you've had on his life.

Thank you.

Now, just one more time, for old time's sake -
"Hey, Uncle Carley! Hey Uncle Carley!
You're looking kind of gnarly!
Hey Uncle Carley!
What's that smell?!?"

That might be the first song J.P. and I "wrote" together. He's sung it - laughing - a thousand times. And Carley laughed right along with us.

The Not So Endless Summer

2011-08-19T20:07:00.000-07:00

When does summer end? I mean, officially, when does summer actually end?

I'm pondering this question as I sit in a chair in the second floor lobby of the student center at Belmont University, or "Belmont School," as J.P. calls it.  Relaxing with my feet up on a table and the always melancholy Scud Mountain Boys playing as background music in my earbuds (absolutely loving "Spotify," my new on-line music find), I can look out the window and watch the traffic on Belmont Boulevard wind around the curve in front of the Circle K.

For me, summer ends tomorrow - August 20, 2011, to be precise. Why? Because that's when the students at Belmont return to campus en masse. They've been trickling in for the past couple of weeks - the women's volleyball team, the students helping with orientation, etc. A couple of girls just wandered in - freshman, no doubt - looking around, confused, then heading up the stairs to the third floor and the Curb Center.

On our nightly sojourns after dinner, J.P. and I have noticed more and more young people walking around campus. Bongo Java has been more crowded when we stop in to see who is working. Parking on Belmont Boulevard is getting harder and harder to come by. There's more pedestrian traffic on the sidewalks, more cyclists on the Boulevard and the trio of restaurants across from the school - Cha Chah, Chago's Cantina (formerly known as La Fiesta) and P.M. - are full almost every night.

For the entire summer, J.P. and I have had Belmont's campus to ourselves. In that way, it's been an endless summer of sorts, one I wish we could stay in indefinitely, because 3 1/2 is such a a great age for him and we've had so much fun spending time together here.  The whole campus has been like a giant playground for him.

Together, we've run "suicide drills" on the basketball court at the Curb Center, after sneaking to look around the gym. We've watched basketball and volleyball camps in the gym. J.P. pretended to "graduate," by walking across the stage in the Curb Center, after it was set up for one of several local high school graduations held there in early summer. We watched parts of actual graduations - Father Ryan High School and Belmont (summer session). He played "garbage man" in the concourse in the gym, pushing a garbage can on rollers back and forth, shaking it to pretend like he was emptying it each time he stopped.

We've played "doctor's office" almost every night upstairs in the student center, outside the office of the dean of students. I'd sit on a bench outside the stairwell and he would call my name, pretending to be Dr. Godfrey (his pediatrician). I'd walk hesitantly into the stairwell, as he closed the door. Then, he'd open the door, go outside the get my medicine, then come back in the stairwell to give it to me. Finally, down the stairs we went, exiting through "the big door" into the main lobby of the student center.

We've played soccer together on the soccer field, such as it is (sadly, a full one-third of the field - a beautiful green space in the middle of campus is gone - torn up as part of the building project for the new law school). Early in the summer, we ran into some guys playing soccer - Belmont students - one of whom showed J.P. how to kick a soccer ball. We threw the frisbee with Jude on the soccer field. J.P. ran - a lot - all around the soccer field. We played on the tennis courts - soccer, with tennis balls and, again, ran - a lot.

We went inside the bell tower and walked up the stairs to the second floor. We listend to the bell tower chime many times. J.P. counted the chimes and, grinning proudly, announced what time it was ("It's eight o'clock, Daddy!"). We tossed change into the fountain facing Belmont Boulevard. We peaked into the cafeteria and opened and closed lockers in the hallway just outside the cafeteria.

We met students, caterers for special events, janitors, visitors and bike patrol officers. J.P. talked to them all. "What's your name? What are you doing? Where are you going? How old are you?" To a person, he made them smile and, just for a moment, forget about what they were doing, where they were going, etc.  That was his summer gift to them.

Now, the students are back, or they will be, tomorrow. The signs are up, directing the new students where to go as they move into this or that dormitory, their home for the next nine months. There are traffic cones everywhere. No parking signs, too. After this weekend, J.P. and I will have to share "Belmont School" with few thousand students.  That makes me a little sad, I guess, and a little nostalgic already for the summer we've shared here together. Next summer, he'll be 4 1/2 and maybe, just maybe, J.P. won't be so easily entertained by a simple walk across campus with his dad after dinner.

Summer is not endless, after all.

The Men in Blue

2011-08-14T22:28:00.000-07:00

Gary and Leroy, our longtime umpires for the Nashville Bar Association softball league. They put up with far too much for far too little and we love them for it.

2011-08-14T22:26:00.000-07:00

Derek Hughey, his 8-month old daughter (Harper), Chris Vlahos and me.

2011-08-14T22:23:00.001-07:00

Chris Vlahos, Will Chapman and J.P. at East Park. And yes, that's our first place trophy.

2011-08-14T22:21:00.000-07:00

B.P. and me, after winning another Nashville Bar Association Tournament title. Notice Will Chapman's head in the picture, between us.

2011-08-14T22:19:00.001-07:00

Again with the funny face, this time at East Park.

Softball

2011-08-14T22:17:00.000-07:00

I'm dowstairs in my chair, having one last beer before I go to bed, feeling a bit melancholy, yet satisfied, as I contemplate another Nashville Bar Association softball tournament championship for Riley, Warnock & Jacobson, the team on which my friends and I have played for several seasons. We'd lost the last year or two to Boult, Cummins (a.k.a. Bradley, Arant), so it was nice to get another title.

This year, for once, we stayed in the winner's bracket, as a result of which we only had to play one game yesterday and two today to win the tournament. Actually, today we defeated (twice) Manier, Herod (the law firm where I worked for 4 + years, fresh out of law school) - once in the winner's bracket finals and then, a second time in the finals. I'm not in the mood for a detailed breakdown of our tournament games, though I will say it was nice to see the oldest team in the league get the bats cranked up.

Our coach and my friend - Chris Vlahos - determined that the average age on our team is slightly over 40. Not too surprising, when you figure Richard Smith is 50+, Benton Patton is 47 or 48, John Rolfe is 47 or 48, I'm 45. These are the kinds of things you talk about, over beers, after the softball tournament. Especially when you win.

There was a moment, a snapshot moment, after we won when J.P. and I were alone on the field. I held the bat in his hands and we hit a softball together, then he took off to run the bases. The sun was setting behind him as he rounded second base and I watched him from home plate. Behind me, Jude was talking quietly to my friend and teammate, Derek Hughey. Some of my other teammates stood on the sidewalk, drinking beer and laughing. I paused for a second, then realized for me, it doesn't get much better than that. Sharing softball and my friends with my wife and son, on a field where I've played softball for twenty years.

J.P. loves and I mean loves going to my softball games. Watching him run the bases afterwards brings me an enormous amount of pride. It's touching, too, because I realize in a few years (even if I'm still playing), he won't care that much about seeing his old man on the softball field. To have these times to share with him now makes me feel loved and blessed, far more than I deserve.

We're Not in Kansas Anymore

2011-08-07T14:45:00.000-07:00

That's right. We're not in Kansas anymore. But we were - the weekend of July 21-24, 2011 - for David Walker's wedding. We had a fantastic time in Wichita, Kansas. I've been trying to find time to put down a few words about the weekend and to add some photos. I think what I'll do, actually, is hit the highlights.

Descending into the Wichita, Kansas airport in fairly heavy winds, as a result of which J.P. vomited. Like a good mother would, Jude sympathy vomited, as well. Just so J.P. wouldn't be embarrassed. Okay, that's maybe a lowlight, not a highlight.
Swimming with J.P. at the hotel's indoor pool. Interestingly, he was actually more cautious and timid about jumping off the side into the pool to Jude or me than he was when we were in Santa Rosa Beach, Florida, two months ago. Oh, well, I guess that's what swimming lessons will get you.
Dinner at Anne and David Walker's house in Wichita, Kansas. I especially enjoyed playing with J.P. in the workout room downstairs. He was fascinated by the elliptical trainer and the exercise bands.
An early morning run, where I discovered a "Rails to Trails" trail and ran along it while I listened to an amazing podcast of "This American Life" with Ira Glass.
A trip to the Science Museum with Jude and J.P. (where the wedding reception was held, too).
Breakfasts at the hotel with Jude's extended family. I was reminded, as I always am at similar events, how special Jude's family really is. It's always so much fun to spend time with her cousins, especially since we don't get to see them that often. J.P. was excited to see Laura McCutcheon, who has been working in Spain for several months. Laura nannied for J.P. for a while and he adores her.
J.P. sinking a 25 or 30 foot putt on his first try on the putting green behind the hotel. Amazing!
Interesting conversations about books and writing with Mike White, Jude's cousin who is a novelist ("Weeping Under Water Sounds a Lot Like Laughter") and whose second book is due to the publisher in October 2011.
A beautiful wedding, followed by J.P. throwing the worst temper tantrum of his life on the 40 minute drive back to the hotel in the rental minivan. When we got to the hotel, I carried him kicking and screaming right past Jude's cousins in the lobby, who just stared. He's normally such a happy kid. I think they were stunned to see him so upset.
J.P. locking the door in our suite separating the bedroom from the den, within five minutes or our arriving at our room. Of course, I had told him not to mess with the lock. He ignored me and we had to wait for a maintenance man to unlock it for us. He also taped the locking mechanism, so J.P. wouldn't be able to lock the door again. Okay, that's another lowlight.
The reception the Science Museum. J.P., Mike White and I were able to sneak off and look at some of the exhibits, even though the museum was closed.
Watching J.P. with Tom White, Jude's uncle, at the Memphis airport during a layover. J.P. loves "Uncle Tom."

I've said this before, but it bears repeating. If J.P. grows up to be the kind of kid and now, man, that David Walker is, I will be one lucky father. In many ways - to me, anyway - David Walker and the relationship he has with his father, (also) David Walker - is the gold standard, his allegiance to Duke University basketball notwithstanding.

Lost Weekend

2011-07-31T13:55:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it takes being away from your family for a little while to be reminded of how much they mean to you.

As I write this, Jude and J.P. are flying home to Nashville from Jacksonville, Florida (Neptune Beach, actually), where they've been visiting our friends, Troy and Cyndi Baines, and their children, Scout and Finn (Wolf was out of town). They left while I was at work Thursday afternoon. I can't wait to see them, to hug them and for us all to be together again. My family.

To be truthful, I was looking forward to a little down time, some "me time." No rushing home from work, no limits on when I could go for a run, maybe a chance to go out and grab dinner and a drink with friends. I did those things and it was kind of nice. However, by Friday evening I was already missing Jude and J.P. terribly. By Saturday afternoon and evening, I was restless, bored and tired of my empty, quiet house. In church this morning, I felt lost, almost, sitting alone in a pew, listening to Tom, our deacon, give the homily. I felt like a part of me was missing, like I wasn't complete.

At Bongo Java this morning, after a 6 mile run on the trails in Shelby Bottoms, three different people asked me why J.P. wasn't with me. At church, one of the regulars asked about J.P. It's amazing, it truly is, the positive impression he makes on people, must by being himself. Somehow, effortlessly it seems, he brings joy to so many people. Not just his family and our friends, but people who are on the periphery of our lives, people we see occasionally who work at Kroger, get coffee at Bongo Java or work there and people we see at church.

A lady - I don't know her name, but she's one of the morning regulars at Bongo Java - pulled me aside this morning and made a point of telling me how much she loves seeing J.P. there, how he always brightens up the place with his personality and how there is just something "special" about him. As a parent, I feel that, too, but I'm incapable of being truly objective when it comes to my son. It's nice to hear that type of thing from someone else.

Soon, very soon, Jude and J.P. will be home, and we'll all be together again. I may not let them out of my sight for a while.

Rails to Trails

2011-07-23T15:20:00.000-07:00

Wichita, Kansas

Jude, JP and I are in Wichita, Kansas for her cousin - David Walker's - wedding. More on that later.

This morning, I left the hotel room at 7:30 a.m. and drove down the road to a bike path that runs along the interstate. I parked the rental minivan at real estate office near where 13th Street splits the bike path, stretched, tuned my iPod to a podcast of a recent "This American Life" (Ira Glass) and started my run. It was already hot, with a high temperature of 105 degrees (!) expected.

I ran east on the bike path and after a half mile, I stumbled upon a gravel path that interstected with the bike path, running perpendicular to it as far as I could see, right and left. I ran in place for a minute, looked around, then turned right and off I went down the gravel path. As I ran, completely engrossed in the podcast of "This American Life," I wondered about the origins of the gravel path. I found an answer when I noticed some railroad ties on both sides of the path as I crossed over what looked to be a small, concrete bridge of some type.

Smiling, I said to myself, "rails to trails." It's a program where old, unused railroad tracks are converted to trails to be used by hikers, runners, mountain bikers, etc. I ran out and back - a total of 5 miles - in the early morning heat, then sat on a bench in a nearby cemetary to stretch, cool off and just unwind a bit. One of the things I like the most about running in an unfamiliar locale is discovering interesting routes, sights to see or, occasionally, an off the beaten path trail. Some of my most memorable runs have been when I'm on the road, unsure exactly of where I'm going, and just running.

Many, many years ago (in another life, really), I got lost in Boulder, Colorado, when I went on a long run before the first day of a trial academy I was attending for work. I ended up running 10 miles or so before I found my way back to the dormitories and hurriedly showered, arriving a little late to the first day of class.

I got lost in Washington D.C. (see a theme developing here?) on a run in bitterly cold winter weather (around 15 degrees). I ran from our hotel to the Lincoln Memorial, up the stairs to get a really good look, then to the Washington Monument and back, only to discover I wasn't exactly sure where our hotel was located. A litte embarrassing and a longer run than I had planned, but an awesome run nonetheless.

I had a top 10 run in Sonoma, California, a few years back, when Jude and I were there to attend her cousin's wedding. It was an out and back run and I never got lost, but I vividly recall running up a dirt road past acres and acres of grapes growing at wine vinyards, stopping occasionally to pluck a handful of graps off a vine to eat as I ran. I finished that run on a bike path that ended at the town square in Sonoma, which I just fell in love with during our stay there.

In Knoxville of all places, on a run I discovered an unpaved, muddy bike trail at Concord Park, less than a mile from Jude's parents' house. I'd probably run through Concord Park 25 times before happening upon this particular trail. I had not idea where I was going or where the trail went, but I followed it for 4 or 5 miles, along Lake Loudon, before finding a branch that took me back to the park and home. Strangely enough, I've never run that trail again, partly because I wouldn't be able to capture the same feeling I had the day I discovered it in the first place.

I've had phenomal runs in Edinburgh and Inverness (Scotland), San Jose (Costa Rica) and Tortolla (Virgin Islands).

The list goes on and on, really. That's why, I guess, I always bring my running shoes with me when I go on a trip. There's almost always a memorable run waiting for me, if I just go out and look for it.

Sharing a Moment

2011-07-18T20:28:00.000-07:00

Tonight, after dinner, J.P. and I decided to drive over to "Belmont School" and Bongo Java. It was our first time to go to Belmont U. since last Thursday, when I was forced to hand down the weekend ban from Belmont and Bongo Java as punishment for J.P. "not listening."

Now, I'm not a complete hardass, obviously, but lately, we've been trying to teach J.P. that when we're out and about and we say "stop," he can't just keep walking or worse, take off running. That's what happened Thursday evening, at Belmont, as we were leaving. I told J.P. to "stop," and he immediately started running toward the parking lot. In the city, where we live, that's dangerous.

As we got into my truck, I asked J.P. what music he wanted to hear. "Avett Brothers," he said. "Sad song" (also known as "Left on Laura, Left on Lisa"). I found the cd, then cued up the song as we drove up Acklen Avenue. I watched him in the rear view mirror as the first notes of the song began playing. He smiled just a little, then kind of nodded his head to the music.

"Left on Laura, Left on Lisa" is special to me for a couple of reasons. First, it's my favorite Avett Brothers song and, really, the song of theirs that really grabbed me when I began listening to them. Second, J.P. liked that song from the first time I played it for him, in my truck. He used to ask me to play it over and over again, as we drove around town. I hadn't played it for him in quite a while, so it brought back memories, pretty poignantly, as we listened to it this evening.

For me, that's the power of music. It's also what makes music so unique. I can hear a certain song - one I haven't heard for weeks, months or even years - and instantly I'm transported back to a place in time when I first heard it or when I listened to it a lot. The memories are palpable, tangible even. That's the way I felt tonight.

As we crested the hill on Caldwell, the sun was hanging below a cloud in on the western skyline partially obscured. It was raining, too. A beautiful evening. I pulled over to the side of the road for a minute, watching the sun setting and looking at J.P., as we listened to "Left on Laura, Left on Lisa." It was one of those moments I wanted to frame and file away.

Fireman Steve

2011-07-18T20:09:00.001-07:00

J.P., giving Fireman Steve "five," from the passenger seat of Engine # 8.

2011-07-18T20:07:00.000-07:00

There's something about these photos that I like.

Gas Mask

2011-07-18T20:01:00.000-07:00

It's always good to be prepared, gas mask and all.

2011-07-18T19:57:00.000-07:00

These photos pretty easily make it into the "J.P. Hall of Fame." Top 10 material.

Fireman

2011-07-17T20:33:00.000-07:00

As anyone who has spend any time with him at all knows, J.P. loves firemen. In fact, he loves everything about firemen - fire stations, fire trucks, hoses, etc. He loves reading books about fireman (he has several) and he loves playing with fire trucks (again, he has several). Most of all, he loves going to fire stations.

Saturday, Jude, J.P. and I went to a friend's house for her twin daughters' 3rd birthday. Our friend lives, literally, across the street from a fire station (Engine No. 8/Ladder No. 27). After lunch, the fireman hosted the children at the party (and parents) at the fire station. The firemen were so gracious and J.P. was, simply, in heaven.

The firemen extended the ladder on the ladder truck, which actually was pretty cool. I had no idea how high up in the air the ladder could be extended. They rotated the ladder around, after which a fireman climbed all the way to the top. The children were tranfixed and just stared, wide-eyed.

Eventually, J.P. wandered back into the garage, where Engine No. 8 sat with its doors open. With encouragement from Steve - one of the firemen on hand - J.P. climbed up into the fire truck. His mouth fell open as he gazed in wonder at all of the equipment in the fire truck. Over and over, he said, "Wow! This is awesome!" He tried on a hat and, much to our amusement, tried on a mask, as well. By the time we finally got him out of the fire truck, everyone else had walked back across the street to the open presents. J.P. would have stayed there all day, if we had let him.

2011-07-16T13:17:00.000-07:00

Birthday cake at Rumor's Wine Bar. For me, of course. All part of my "birthday month" celebration.

45!

2011-07-16T13:12:00.000-07:00

Last Saturday, one week ago today, I turned 45. Talk about hard to believe. 45. Damn. I've lived out of college longer than I lived before I went to college, or something like that. I don't feel 45 and I sure don't act 45. Most people don't think I'm 45, until they look at the top of my head. That's something, I guess.

Friday evening, we celebrated my birthday with dinner at Rumor's Wine Bar in 12South, near our house. It's a good neighborhood hangout for us and we go there fairly often. Jenn - the manager - is a friend and she really took good care of us, meeting with Jude earlier in the afternoon and storing an ice cream cake in their refrigerator. In attendance were my mom, Jude's folks, Jude's grandmother and aunt, Jude and J.P.

Our friends, Hal and Kim, were there, too. Hal is the unofficial "Mayor of 12South," so it would be unusual not to see him at Rumor's on a Friday night. J.P. spent as much time on the front patio with Hal and Kim as he did with us at our table inside, which actually worked out pretty well for everyone (except maybe Hal and Kim). J.P. adores Hal and it was entertaining to watch them together. At one point, Hal and J.P. were sitting on one of the benches on the front patio, coloring and writing on a flip pad Jude had brought with us.

Saturday morning (my birthday), I went for an 8-mile trail run at Shelby Bottoms. For the first time in a while, I found "the zone" as I was running and really felt good, cruising along on the trails, listening to Bob Dylan on my iPod ("Highway 61 Revisited").

Saturday evening, Jude's folks watched J.P. while she and I went to a wedding in Brentwood. Thomas Reid, the son of one of the attorneys in our office - Lori Reid - was getting married. We made an appearance at the reception at the Carnton Plantation in Franklin, then went to dinner at Cabana in Hillsboro Village, near our house. Cabana is an old favorite of ours and a restaurant we used to frequent quite often before J.P. was born. It was nice to stop in and have a relatively peaceful, grown up meal and really, just to talk.

A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

2011-07-10T20:30:00.000-07:00

Occasionally - though not as much as I used to - I still have friends or acquaintances who ask me (or think about asking me, without saying so) why I live where I live. What they're really asking, in not so many words, is "why do you live in the 'hood?" I wish I had a video tape of the morning J.P. and I shared today, because I would show it to anyone who asks me that question. I think it would explain why I love living in the city more than anything I could tell them.

J.P. didn't sleep well last night (he has a cold), so we got up early and watched "Sid the Science Kid" together, followed by an episode of "World World" (that's a recent discovery). We arrived at Bongo Java about 8:15 a.m. and although it was already hot and humid, it was nice enough that several people were sitting on the front deck, drinking coffee and eating breakfast. As J.P. and I walked up the stairs, we saw my friend, Derek Hughey, sitting at a table and reading the New York Times on his iPad. We said "hi," then walked inside to order breakfast.

As we got in line, J.P. walked around behind the counter to see who was working. He said "hi, how you doing?" to Megan and a couple of the other young ladies, or barristas, who were making coffee and taking orders. While we were in line, Will, Ashley and their daughter (14 months old or so) walked in - they're regulars on Sunday mornings and have been for quite some time. We smiled and waved to them, as I sat J.P. on the counter and placed our order.

As we walked outside, J.P.'s hero, Chad, walked in. He works at Bongo Java and J.P. adores him. J.P. said "hi," then gave him "five." We walked outside and Derek waved us over to sit down at his table to have breakfast. After a few minutes, Derek left to go home and J.P. and I finished breakfast. We walked across the street to where I had parked. There, we saw Allen, a guy who lives around the corner from us, on Acklen. He was walking to the church he attends on Belmont Boulevard. We talked for a minute or two, then went home.

When we got home, J.P. and I walked down the street to talk to James, one of our neighbors. He walked down from his front porch and showed J.P. a pair of magnetic balls he'd bought at Fall Creek Falls. J.P. was fascinated by the way he could roll one of the balls toward the other one, on the sidewalk, and they would smack into each other and stick together. We talked to James for a few minutes, then walked home to get ready for church.

In a span of a couple of hours, J.P. and I had breakfast together and, in the process, ran into several friends and people we have met in the neighborhood. To me, that's what our neighborhood is all about and that's why I love it - running into people you know, people whom you've met and made friends - and just talking - about nothing and everything. People of all backgrounds, from all walks of life. Initially, it's the neighborhood you have in common but, as time passes, you realize you have so much more in common - family, children, church, sports - all kinds of stuff. That's our neighborhood.

Speaking in Tongues

2011-07-05T20:52:00.000-07:00

Today, as I was driving home after work and an early evening run in my old neighborhood (Forest Crossing in Franklin), J.P. and Jude called me on my cell phone. Jude handed her cell phone to J.P. and he said, quite clearly, "Daddy, I need to ask you a question. Will you meet us at Frothy Monkey for dinner? I want to have a grilled cheese, fruit, chips and my own milk."

Seriously, it was like I was listening to a 5 or 6 year old child. Obviously, I'm prejudiced, but his vocabulary, his diction, his train of thought, etc., was so impressive. I laughed, shook my head, then told Jude (when she got on the phone) that I couldn't believe what I'd just heard. I was proud, too, really proud.

Almost every day, when we're out somewhere with J.P., a complete stranger comments to us about how well he speaks for his age. Most of the time, people we run into can't believe J.P. is just past 3 years old. His vocabulary is so impressive, as is his ability to string together complete sentences that communicate specific thoughts he has.

I don't have an explanation for it, other than Jude and I are just very fortunate to be blessed with such a bright child. He doesn't watch a lot of television - he never has, really. He may watch one episode a day of "Sid the Science Kid" or "Super Why" on PBS, but that's it. We read to him a lot and we always have. I think that helps. We've never been big on "baby talk," either; instead, we've just talked to him like a normal person. Carley Meade's daily interactions with him, one-on-one, as his nanny, certainly have helped, too. I guess it's a combination of all those things.

Mostly, thought, I just think we're really lucky. And blessed.

J.P. and Ayden

2011-06-26T21:40:00.000-07:00

Surprise!

2011-06-26T21:34:00.000-07:00

When we walked outside tonight to watch Rob, Ann Marie and Ayden leave, the kids got in the back of Rob's pick-up truck. We laughed, as they played, a fitting end to a nice evening. It was especially funny when they ducked down in the bed of the pick-up truck, then jumped up together and yelled "surprise" at Rob and me.

Smiley

2011-06-26T21:27:00.001-07:00

I really like this photo of J.P. He's got a great smile.

The Elliotts Come Home

2011-06-26T21:24:00.000-07:00

Tonight, the Rob, Ann Marie and Ayden Elliott - our old friends from the neighborhood - came over for dinner. They moved to Forest Hills a few months ago and even though they're only 10 or 15 minutes away, it's just not the same as having them live two blocks down from us. It was so great to see them and to get to spend some time together.

It's funny, but sometimes in life (if you're lucky) you find a couple or a family that you feel comfortable with - somehow you just fit together with little of no real effort. I think that kind of relationship is special, partly because it's so rare and often fleeting. That's the way I feel about Rob and Ann Marie (and Ayden). We seem to share a lot in common with them, not the least of which is the fact we both had children relatively late in life and, for that reason, we're kind of figuring things out as we go. It's almost like we've known them for years, even though that's not the case.

We shared a nice meal together, drank some wine, watched the kids play and laughed a lot. You know, you can't ask for much more than that, can you?

Watching the Ducks

2011-06-26T21:12:00.000-07:00

Jude and J.P., at the Green Hills YMCA on Saturday, watching the ducks swim under the bridge in the parking lot.

One Happy Kid

2011-06-21T21:08:00.001-07:00

Questions

2011-06-21T21:07:00.000-07:00

Questions, questions and more questions. Sometimes J.P. asks questions because he's genuinely curious about something. Other times he asks questions when he's in "rain delay" mode, trying to stall his way out of going to bed, going to sleep or doing something else he's not interested in doing. In no particular order, below I've listed a few of his favorites (and mine).

1. Why do I have to go to school?

2. Why do I have to go to sleep?

3. Why do we have legs?

4. Why does Mommy play tennis?

5. Why do I have to eat dinner?

6. Why are you going for a run, Daddy?

7. Why do I have to take a bath?

8. Why do I have to go potty?

9. Why do I have to get dressed?

10. Why do you have to go to work?

You get the idea.

Ice Cream!

2011-06-14T21:08:00.000-07:00

Ice Cream with Mommy, courtesy of Blue Mountain Beach Ice Creamery.

2011-06-14T21:07:00.000-07:00

Also from out vacation at Santa Rosa Beach - here's J.P. "cleaning" the deck at Blue Mountain Beach with the hose.

2011-06-14T21:04:00.000-07:00

A photo of J.P. at Bongo Java on a Sunday morning a few weeks ago.

Blue Mountain Beach Ice Creamery

2011-06-14T20:51:00.000-07:00

As I mentioned in an earlier post, Jude, J.P. and I got ice cream at Blue Mountain Beach Ice Creamery almost every day we were on vacation at Santa Rosa Beach. J.P. loves Jed, pictured here, who hooked us up with ice cream every time we stopped by.