So I married a triathlete

Congrats to Sue, who finished mid-pack in last month's Woodridge Mini Triathlon. And if it wasn't for a displaced bike chain, combined with her utter terror at swimming long distances (hello, Hylands, any suggestions here?), she'd have finished even higher.

But believe it or not, her eldest two children (Jillian and Jason, perhaps you've heard of them) followed up with triathlons of their own. Rock on! I am so proud of them, but for different reasons. For Jillian, the race was difficult and uncomfortable, and she wanted to quit halfway through. After some water and encouragement from mom, she want out and ran her third leg, and finished strong. Jason, I am proud of him for his enthusiasm and spirit. On the way home, he told us he wanted to do that again. Which reminds me, I need to see if there are any other events upcoming...


The mom / triathlete, and part of her Pit Crew. The sharpie number stays on your arm for a few days, and it looks really cool.


Jason kicks off his race.


Jillian finishing leg 2 of hers, a 5k bike (on a bike that is really not built for this sort of thing). Jillian was very unhappy at this point it time, I later came to learn...


... but she felt better at this point.


Not to long after, here came the World's Largest 2nd Grader.


The Three Triathletes and the Rest of their pit crew.



- Aw2pp, Official Family Couch Potato

Our first ER visit, and other stuff

Jillian is age 8, Jason 7, Rowan 3 1/2, and Joey 1 1/2. That's 20 kid-years, and we've managed to get by without so much as a single stitch. Personally, I thought Rowan, with her reckless nature and preternatural confidence in her gross motor skills, would be our first ER patient. Wrong. Say hello to Joey, fresh off challenging the glass door on a TV stand:



Under that band-aid is a nice, clean 1" gash, sutured with some sort of glue and a couple of butterfly bandages. He looks like a hockey player. But he'll be fine. No stitches, so we're still 0-fer on that metric.

I know February is a short month, but gee-whiz, where did it go? Tomorrow is March 1, which means Spring is only 6 to 8 weeks away here 41 miles west of Chicago. To my friends and family who are already basking in the new warmth, good on ya. We're not insulted that nobody visits us this time of year. Really, we're not.

Not a lot of piano news. Work? I'm still my own rep, which means, among other things, fewer bench hours for me. PT has been very gracious accommodating my capricious schedule. Currently, I am scheduled for lessons Wednesdays at 3:30, but that time has been hit-and-miss this month. Thankfully, we've been able to backfill lessons as other students drop their slots. But it also means my progress is slow... I had hoped to be able to play Le Onde all the way through by now, for instance, but no dice. That second page, it gives me fits...

In other news, the kids earned their Tae Kwon Do Yellow Belts yesterday. Photographic proof follows:


Jillian's proud. It's easy to tell with her. Here's hoping that will always be true.


Now the kids on the playground will be even less likely to mess with The World's Largest Seven Year Old. Not that this was a problem in the first place.


Rowan and Boomer, alas, did not test. But they still had fun. Her time will come. Boomer's, I'm less sure. He (I think it's a he) doesn't seem to be taking well to his Poomse.

Me? I missed it. I was off playing volleyball. My test is this week, though. The only problem I have had in practice is with board breaks. Let me testify: if your teacher tells you to hit the board with the side of your hand, you need to listen to them. From my experience, I can tell you that it is possible to break boards with your ulna (that is, the outside of your wrist or lower arm), but the board may not be the only casualty in the encounter.



(Yes, I broke it. The board that is. Not my ulna.)


- Aw2pp, who already misses Curling.

Hodge Podge Picture Post

Catching up on the last month...

Houston pics
As you'll recall, we drove last month to Houston and back. The weather was so nice we... went indoors and played one afternoon at Pump It Up. The gang was pretty excited, as you see. Even Joey was doing some high-stepping.


But yes, there was also plenty of outdoor playing. Mostly on the trampoline, which has an interesting effect on your hair, as Rowan will now demonstrate.


Before


After

Other outdoor pics...

The first ever Aw2pp family volleyball game. More to come, I am sure.





Really not sure what is going on here, but clearly the racket committed some sort of grievous offense.

Remember that Young Chang piano I mentioned a few weeks ago? Here I am playing it, with that silly "I'm playing the piano" look on my face.* That's a glass of Amarone, by the way. It was tasty.


* - Some day, I hope to be a good enough piano player to be able to think about things like, "Gosh, I wonder what I look like, I should try to look cool." Until then...


Returning to 41 miles west of Chicago
All good things must come to an end, and our fun in Houston was no exception. When we returned, we returned to Winter. In fact, for more days than I can count, we've experienced something called "Freezing Fog". It goes something like this... the temperature outside is, say, 19 degrees, humidity is 100%, and the little floating water droplets instantly freeze onto anything they contact. It is actually quite a site, especially at night, but unfortunately you are going to have to take my word on that, because I am not a good enough photographer to capture cool nighttime freezing fog. But during the day... still nice.


Up the street to the north


Some of our trees


More of our trees


If you look closely enough, you might could see Mr. Tumnus.

You'd think, based on all that snow on the ground, that what you see in the trees is snow. You'd be wrong if you thought that. Instead, this stuff is the frozen fog droplets, which, as Tom Skilling taught me this week, is called Hoarfrost. (Stop snickering, you in back. I'm serious: Hoarfrost. Look it up.)

Of course, there is snow on the ground, and our children like to go out playing it, right? Negative. Here they were when I came in from taking these pictures.


Later, Jason at least took it upon himself to build a pyramid out of Connect 4 chips.


Finally, we had a day or two of clear weather. Here's a sunset, with something called a Light Pillar.


Turning around, the sun was at an interesting angle to the house across the street. The picture is not nearly as awesomely cool as the actual scene was, unfortunately. Where's a tripod when you need one?


Tonight, lesson #2 on the year. I think I have progressed enough with Calypso Carnival to get a pass on it. Here's hoping.

- Aw2pp, who, for one, welcomes our new insect overlords, and would like to remind them that as a trusted piano blogger, I could be helpful in rounding up others to toil in their underground sugar caves.

Merry Ice-Mas

We don't do much here that would qualify as breaking news. Frankly, I am not on-top-of-it-enough to do that. Most of my posts germinate for a few days or more before they end up fodder for you. But these pics were too interesting not to share.


Here is our driveway this morning. Ice was about an inch thick here. Children were warned to stay off, and, wouldn't you know it, they did.





The Birch in front of the house is not happy with this.





The kids' week-old snowman seemed a little down, too.

It's ironic, Dad was here over Thanksgiving. He's lived most of his life in Alabama, including the last 32 years. I remarked that they had some ice storms while I was at Vanderbilt (late 80's, early 90's) that were simply ferocious. I had the gall to add that that sort of thing doesn't really seem to happen here.

- Aw2pp, who stands corrected.

Obligatory kid and family pics

It's been awhile.




Joey's growing up quickly, especially the last month or so. That'll be a theme here today, and you'll notice that many of the pictures include him. Here's another, in fact.



Jason (70 months) and Joey (16 months) playing our newest Wii acquisition, Mario and Sonic at the Olympic Winter Games™. (Yes, that is the full, official name of the game.) That's Jason on the left.



These two are looking more and more alike all the time. It's a credit to them both, really.




This was taken on a recent train ride through a Christmas village not too far from here. Free train, free hot chocolate, free popcorn... what's not to like? We'll have to add it to the list of things we should do every year. Joey was less enthusiastic later that evening...



"Don't worry Joey, your older siblings weren't so crazy about this either when they were your age."



Same night. Those aren't Mardi Gras beads. Just clarifying. He makes faces like this when he doesn't want you to take his picture. Posting it is an attempt on my part to say, "Nyah nyah nyah, we took it anyway, and now the whole world can see your goofiness." That'll learn him.



Good news! Joey is ambulatory (look it up, it may not mean what you think it means) and capable of getting himself into a whole new world of trouble. Here he is on the second shelf in our pantry. Getting in is easy... getting out, not so much. Speaking of which...



... this has yet to be explained to my satisfaction. Maybe I'm better off not knowing.




Tom Skilling says Meteorological Winter begins December 1. Phil Plait says Astronomical Winter starts December 21. They're both right, of course, but neither of them can tell you when Winter actually begins. I will tell you. Winter begins when I have to shovel the driveway, and the kids look like this after playing outside for 5 minutes.



No, we haven't signed Joey up for piano lessons yet, which probably explains this strange chord he's trying to play. He's at least six months away. He does, however, enjoy turning the piano off while I am playing it. For some reason, he does not do that to Jillian. Secretly, I'm insulted. But I won't tell him that, and I'm fairly certain he doesn't come by here, so the secret is probably safe for now.

- Aw2pp, sensitive to his critics.

Spongebob

I probably owe you some thoughts on last week's ABF Recital, but fact o' business is, I haven't listed to any of it yet. This week has been incredibly busy. I hope to soon, because recital discussion at Pianoworld tends to trail off quickly after a week or two, but with next week being Thanksgiving, I am not sure when I'll get to squeeze any listening time in before then.

In addition, I played my first Steinway last week. I owe you some thoughts on that, too. (Teaser: I was surprised.)

But since I've nothing truly useful to say today, I'll do what I usually do in these circumstances, and that is to bring in totally unrelated content. Take a look at these scribbles Jillian put down the other day.



Do you think maybe, perhaps, the kids watch a little too much Spongebob? Consider:

• The room off of our kitchen, which, ostensibly, is supposed to be "Papa's Office*". In practice, I call it The Spongebob Room. Mind you, I'm the only one who calls it this, but I think it fits, because watching Spongebob us the main purpose for which this room is used.
  
• She went two for three in drawing some pretty recognizable characters. Patrick may need a little bit of work, but check out Squidward's face! And dollar signs in place of Mr. Crabs' (Krabs?) pupils! This sort of detail isn't easily acquired. It takes hours and hours to take it in, and reproduce it off the top of your head. She could do illustration work for them now.
  
• My children have apparently seen every episode of the show. I don't know whether to feel pride or shame. Perhaps a mixture of the two... I'm sure the Germans have a word for it, but I don't.
  

* Yes, we built this house last year with the intent that Sue's parents would be joining us in it. And though they do so periodically (weekends, mostly, and when I travel during the week), they still haven't sold their house, and remain in it. Thanks for asking.

- Aw2pp, who lives in a pineapple under the sea.

Reasons why we never go anywhere

A two-part tale.

Part One

About six weeks ago, Dan, an former colleague, emailed a dinner invitation to Rhett (another former co-worker) me. I confirmed with Sue that we were available*, and told them both that "we" would be there. Rhett and his wife have three children, I recalled, and I was sure they'd play nicely with ours. I picked out a couple wines, loaded the family up, and off we went.

* - Why anyone ever asks me if I am (we are) available on a given date is beyond me. Sue knows these things, not me. Between birthdays, sports, practices, and various other get-togethers, I am hopeless when it comes to keeping up with our schedule.

Rhett and his wife arrived before us. Sans children. I later learned that our hosts were, um, surprised that we brought ours. I'm clueless, of course, and didn't pick up on any of this. In fact, I was so out of it, that when Sue told me on the way home that the children were not expected, I didn't believe her. But then I went back to the original email. "Dinner... wives... might take some time to arrange sitters..." Well then. Yes, we brought our four children to a formal dinner party. Whoops.

Our gracious friends handled it well, to their credit. They read to our children; they grilled hot dogs for them; they sat on the living room floor and ate off the coffee table while the Aw2pp crew commandeered the kitchen table. Our children, to their credit, were also very good, with no known episodes of crying / whining / potty accidents / breaking things*.

* - Unless you count the page Rowan ripped out of some 100 year-old dictionary**. FWIW, the page was blank.

** - No, I don't know how Ro got her hands on a 100 year-old dictionary.

So I did send a hat-in-hand note to Dan, apologizing for inadvertently doubling the size of the guest list. I thanked them for being the wonderful, gracious people that they are. Dan's response to me began: "Aw2pp, you ignorant slut!"

I believe that means they are still coming to Joey's first birthday party this weekend.* But wow, we're clearly rookies at this dinner party thing.

* - I think. Remember, Sue owns our schedule.

Part Two

Sue has some old friends from back in college, a couple who recently moved to Des Moines. That's a reasonable car trip from here, so we packed up the family and spent a recent weekend with them. Good times. They had a daughter (and her 2 year old) in town, and it was lots of fun to see Rowan play with a peer for once.



"Thank you, drive through please!" Ro has some experience with McDonald's drive-thru's. I love how the yellow shirt she had on goes so well with the rest of the ensemble. And no, this is not the same playset that topped the list of Cracked.com's "9 Toys that prepare children for a life of menial labor".

Our weekend hosts drink lots of fancy California Cabs, and we made a small dent in the collection. We also watched a lot of golf, and marveled at Tom Watson's British Open almost-win.* And though it was too cold for much swimming**, the kids handled it well, and busied themselves with other activities, including an afternoon visit to a Living History Farm.

* - It hurt to see that wind up the way it did... and I say that as a fan of the eventual winner, Stuart Cink.

** - Which didn't stop us, mind you, we still went swimming at their country club. Had the place to ourselves, we did. Ro and Joey were pleased.



Among things you learn at a Living History museum:


You learn where milk really comes from. (Jason was enthusiastic, getting right in there.)


(Jillian, keeping a respectful distance, not so much.)



You develop an appreciation for modern conveniences, like indoor plumbing.



You learn that children 100 years ago couldn't play the piano if they couldn't reach the pedals. (Sorry, Ro, maybe next year.)

When we weren't doing fun things like milking cows, one of the kids' pastimes was playing with our hosts' ancient Chihuahuas, Chica and Carlos. Jillian, Jason, and Rowan liked chasing them around the house, and taking them for walks. Carlos was feisty, and would holler at you periodically for no apparent reason. Chica was the skittish sort, who trembled all the time, and didn't like to make eye contact. Neither of them particularly enjoys company, so it was with some surprise when, on Friday night, Carlos seemed to soften his disposition, particularly towards Jason, who had been tormenting him most of the day. Carlos actually sort of cuddled up on Jason's lap at one point during the evening, which seemed to make them both very happy. Our hosts, pleasantly surprised, remarked, "Wow, Carlos never does that." It was just about that time that Jason noticed that Carlos' nose was not wet. We all made some other observations, too, that maybe Carlos was not himself.

"That cough doesn't sound good."
"Yeah, he's been fighting something lately. Vet said not to worry about it."

"Does he always shake so much? I thought Chica was the one who shakes all the time?"
"Well, it is chilly out here."

During the night, there was some howling coming from the laundry room, where the dogs slept, but apparently they howl at night on a regular basis. They're, after all, Chihuahuas. Jason was the first one up Saturday morning. He heard Chica barking from upstairs, and wanted to go on the morning walk with the dogs. But they couldn't find Carlos. (Hopefully you have some sense as to where this is going... if not, you are in for a shocker.)

Evntually, David, our weekend host, found him in his bed. Yes, like his more famous cousin Gidget, Carlos had breathed his last, and joined the Great Chalupa in the Sky.


The last picture taken of Carlos. That's him on the right, under Jason's control.

Our host family made the requisite arrangements (I'm surprised how much it costs to cremate a Chihuahua), shared the news with their other children, and did what they could to assure us that we did not hasten the poor animal's demise. Once that was all taken care of, they then turned their attention to their fancy sound system, which we had done something to. Thankfully, they were able to get that fixed, and life returned to normal.

Chica, last we heard, seems unaffected by the situation. She still trembles and looks frightened all the time.

Conclusion

Don't invite us over. We mean well, we really do, but perhaps it's best that we keep to ourselves for a few years.

- Aw2pp, amateur haiku critic