Thursday, March 31, 2011
Cantina Changa
Cupcake!
3 THREE 3 THREE 3 THREE 3 THREE 3
I woke up one morning and my son was 3.
At 11:11 a.m., 3 years ago Monday, J.P. was born at Baptist Hospital. I'm pretty sure there's not been a 3-year period in my life that's gone by faster. It's crazy to think that my son is 3 years old. It really is.
Saturday morning, we had a small birthday party at our house. We pretty much limited it to family only, although Rob and Ann Marie Elliott stopped by in between trips from their old house to their new house and back again, as they completed their move. As usual, I over estimated how much food we would need, as a result of which we gave bar-b-que to our guests to take home and still had enough left over to eat for the next few days.
J.P. received some great birthday presents, which is good, because what he needs is more toys. He was particularly enthralled with a lego construction set and a kid-sized tunnel and tent. There were dinosaurs, clothes, books, etc. It was a good haul for him.
After the party ended, Jude, her folks and I took J.P. to the fire station (#8) on 12th Avenue, a couple of blocks from our house. J.P. was disappointed when we pulled in front of the fire station, because the fire engine was gone. Fortunately, as we were preparing to leave, Engine #8 pulled into the driveway. J.P.'s eyes lit up as we walked inside and stood next to the firetruck. The fireman, Lloyd and Spence, couldn't have been any nicer. Lloyd showed J.P. around and even lifted him up into the back seat of the firetruck. J.P. grinned from ear to ear, looked down at us, and said, "this is awesome!" He couldn't get enough of opening and closing all the doors and panels on the firetruck. It was great. As we left, he asked, "can I go back to the fire station tomorrow?"
Saturday afternoon, Jude's parents babysat for J.P., while Jude and I went to see a live broadcast of Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion live from the Ryman Auditorium. Our seats were dead center, in the first row of pews, behind two rows of folding chairs. It was absolutely amazing - we were 15 feet from the state - within spitting distance of Emmylou Harris, Sam Bush and the man himself, Garrison Keillor. As always, the show was fantastic.
When it ended, a little after 7 p.m., Jude went home and I walked down to Bridgestone Arena to see the Nashville Predators play the Dallas Stars. When the Preds' won, it capped an almost perfect Saturday for me - J.P.'s birthday party, Garrison Keillor and Prairie Home Companion, then a Predators' game! Beautiful.
At 11:11 a.m., 3 years ago Monday, J.P. was born at Baptist Hospital. I'm pretty sure there's not been a 3-year period in my life that's gone by faster. It's crazy to think that my son is 3 years old. It really is.
Saturday morning, we had a small birthday party at our house. We pretty much limited it to family only, although Rob and Ann Marie Elliott stopped by in between trips from their old house to their new house and back again, as they completed their move. As usual, I over estimated how much food we would need, as a result of which we gave bar-b-que to our guests to take home and still had enough left over to eat for the next few days.
J.P. received some great birthday presents, which is good, because what he needs is more toys. He was particularly enthralled with a lego construction set and a kid-sized tunnel and tent. There were dinosaurs, clothes, books, etc. It was a good haul for him.
After the party ended, Jude, her folks and I took J.P. to the fire station (#8) on 12th Avenue, a couple of blocks from our house. J.P. was disappointed when we pulled in front of the fire station, because the fire engine was gone. Fortunately, as we were preparing to leave, Engine #8 pulled into the driveway. J.P.'s eyes lit up as we walked inside and stood next to the firetruck. The fireman, Lloyd and Spence, couldn't have been any nicer. Lloyd showed J.P. around and even lifted him up into the back seat of the firetruck. J.P. grinned from ear to ear, looked down at us, and said, "this is awesome!" He couldn't get enough of opening and closing all the doors and panels on the firetruck. It was great. As we left, he asked, "can I go back to the fire station tomorrow?"
Saturday afternoon, Jude's parents babysat for J.P., while Jude and I went to see a live broadcast of Garrison Keillor's Prairie Home Companion live from the Ryman Auditorium. Our seats were dead center, in the first row of pews, behind two rows of folding chairs. It was absolutely amazing - we were 15 feet from the state - within spitting distance of Emmylou Harris, Sam Bush and the man himself, Garrison Keillor. As always, the show was fantastic.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Captain Underpants
Monday morning, as Jude was getting J.P. dressed, she said, "Daddy, come quick, look at John Patrick!"
I walked in his room and was astounded to see him standing there, looking up at me with a big smile on his face, wearing a t-shirt and "Buzz Lightyear" underpants. "Daddy, I'm wearing big boy underwear!" he exclaimed. Honestly, I was a little conflicted, as I watched him dance around. I was excited, but also a little sad, as I couldn't help but think - albeit briefly - my son's got stay in diapers or, at least, pull ups. That way, I can know he's not growing up too fast. It was fleeting thought, though, and it made me really proud to see him standing there in his underpants.
About 15 minutes later, as I was loading up my truck in front of our house, Jude opened the front door and announced J.P. just had his first "accident." Ah, yes, growing pains.
Today, though, he kept his underpants dry the entire day, which was huge! Not to get too technical, but he even went "poopie" in the potty. Twice.
Did I really just write that (sigh).
I walked in his room and was astounded to see him standing there, looking up at me with a big smile on his face, wearing a t-shirt and "Buzz Lightyear" underpants. "Daddy, I'm wearing big boy underwear!" he exclaimed. Honestly, I was a little conflicted, as I watched him dance around. I was excited, but also a little sad, as I couldn't help but think - albeit briefly - my son's got stay in diapers or, at least, pull ups. That way, I can know he's not growing up too fast. It was fleeting thought, though, and it made me really proud to see him standing there in his underpants.
About 15 minutes later, as I was loading up my truck in front of our house, Jude opened the front door and announced J.P. just had his first "accident." Ah, yes, growing pains.
Today, though, he kept his underpants dry the entire day, which was huge! Not to get too technical, but he even went "poopie" in the potty. Twice.
Did I really just write that (sigh).
Truckin'
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