Borrowing Babies

Posted by dkrashb on July 21, 2013

Mom and baby just chillin’

I don’t really think of myself as a baby person. Babies are cute and cuddly and fun for a short period of time and then they start to need things. And you have to guess at what they need because they’re not particularly articulate. This is about the time I like to have someone handy to hand them back to.

But meeting the new daughter of one of the two women in the world who refer to me as their “second mom” felt different. I’m not saying I wanted to whisk this tiny baby off and be responsible for her. But, her crying wasn’t annoying. Her smile seemed brighter. Her expressions were cuter. And her laughter was more addictive than the babies of people I didn’t watch grow up.

Grandma grabbing a kiss

I was still happy Mom and Dad were quick to jump in when she started fussing. Fortunately, they speak baby and were were able to interpret exactly what little Ireland needed quickly. But it occurred to me why so many parents are excited about becoming grandparents.

In the decision not to have children, we didn’t really think about the inevitable outcome of not having grandchildren either. I think I’m OK with borrowing other people’s grandchildren. I suppose it’s not really fair–after all, we didn’t go through the sleepless nights or the difficult adolescence or the expense of raising the next generation. But, sometimes it’s best to leave these things to more qualified people.

Just watchin’

I enjoyed watching Chris and Karen with their daughter. They have a sense of calm rarely seen in new parents. Or maybe it was just exhaustion? Whatever the case, they exuded confidence and seemed unflustered, knowing what was needed when and dealt with hunger, fatigue, and projectile spit-up like pros.

I’m sure it helps that Ireland is a happy baby without colic. There are many parents who would probably be calm and collected if their babies weren’t keeping them up all night. In any case, we apparently kept Ireland up past her nap time. After enjoying playing for a while and then having her own breakfast, she started nodding off like some of my sleep-apnea-suffering co-workers during a long, boring meeting.

I actually remembered my DSLR is also capable of shooting video just in time to catch Ireland nodding off one more time before she was put down to sleep in her car seat. Isn’t it amazing how a baby can sleep soundly in the middle of a restaurant patio in a car seat? She slept through conversation and commotion and even while she was carried across the shopping center and set back down time and time again.

Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad–someone to cart you around while you nap.

Mom’s beautiful smile

Meet Up

Posted by dkrashb on July 20, 2013

Surely this is Olympus?

Today was full of nostalgia. It started off with a visit with friends. One of those friends is a young woman I’ve known for 23 years now–since she was 7. I didn’t realize I’d known her for 23 years until we sat down and figured it out over breakfast. But there I was, flipping back and forth in my mind between the 7 year-old Karen the day I met her and the 30 year old wife and mother sharing breakfast with me.

Karen and Chris

It was the first time I met her new daughter, just born in March. She’s a happy baby. Smiling and cooing and doing cute baby things. I will have photos from today eventually, but I need to get them downloaded and post-processed first and I forgot my card reader–I’ll have to find one tomorrow.

Since I don’t have new photos to post, I thought I would take a trip down memory lane from the last time I saw my friend and her husband. It’s hard to believe it’s been 3 years since I last saw them. We went hiking with them in Montana when Pat and I were out for a visit.

One of the things Pat and I did while we were in Montana was take a helicopter ride over Glacier National Park with some other dear friends who accompanied us on part of the trip. We flew over the mountains, above the clouds that surrounded the peaks. I think of these photos whenever my young friend talks about her job. She’s a paramedic and flies on life flights over the same mountains I paid to see.

I sometimes visualize her in an emergency medical chopper over these same mountains. I am part jealous and part afraid. Such beautiful sights so often, and to get paid to see it to boot! On the other hand, it seems like such a dangerous thing to do, rushing out into this unforgiving landscape in a tiny helicopter to try to save someone. I am impressed all over again every time I think about it.

Reconnecting with this friend and her extended family (4 generations were at breakfast together) reminded me how wonderful family is. I found myself missing my own family as well as this adoptive family I was able to spend the morning with immediately upon leaving.

I started winding through history, remembering cute things Karen and her twin sister and younger brother did when I spent 2 summers babysitting them. I also remembered all the hard times having this group of people in my life helped me through.

I managed to slip back into the present moment enough to enjoy one of the nicest parts about meeting the whole family: getting to watch Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, Great-grandma and Great-grand dad all making faces at the newest addition to the family. They were all adorable in their face making approaches.

The Etiquette of Dog Days

Posted by dkrashb on May 21, 2013

Twiggy keeping cool but not still

When I was a child, I preferred to wear dresses. My mother was constantly trying to get me to wear pants, but I was insistent on my own sense of fashion. I have no recollection as to why I would have wanted to wear dresses or even that I did, but I know that all the photos of me up until I was in about the first grade prove my mother’s story.

In most of these photos, I have skinned knees or knees marked with the white residue of a white-painted fence we used to climb. I my memory, I spent most of my time outdoors running around, frequently falling or managing to bang myself up in other ways.

Tisen enjoying a rub

This was not, however, the concern my mother had with me wearing dresses. Rather, it was the constant battle she had going on in her head between wanting to preserve my childhood innocence and wanting to help me learn to conform to some social norms. While I’m sure someone somewhere has written a book that tells parents when girls should stop being allowed to run around climbing on things when they’re wearing a dress, my mother hadn’t read it. Even if she had, she might not have agreed on the cutoff point.

In any case, eventually my mother did convert me to wearing pants. Had I been born a generation or so earlier, she might have made me stop climbing trees and fences and kept me in dresses. I feel pretty fortunate that pants afforded me freedoms that might otherwise have been denied to me.

Twiggy does not wear dresses or pants. She goes out in fur every day of the year, although her parents were kind enough to have her coat trimmed for her as the temperature rose, she otherwise dresses the same every day. As a dog, we humans don’t expect her to have adopted our own hang ups about sitting primly with ankles crossed. Yet, Twiggy frequently does sit that way. She assumes a sphinx pose, crosses her front pays, and holds her head in a pose that makes you think she might be Cleopatra reincarnated. She truly is regal.

Tisen takes Duck to the other side of the room

But the other day, when our inside temperature was pushing 80 (yes, I am trying to make it to June with no A/C), she had no qualms or self-consciousness about flopping down on the floor in as unladylike a pose as imaginable. And I found it so amusing that I had no qualms about taking a few photos (using the Camera! app on the iPhone) to share with you.

Tisen, who was happy to opt for a belly rub when Daddy was available, didn’t seem quite as comfortable with the whole belly-twist pose Twiggy assumed. Although, I don’t know how much of his shyness came from my with the camera vs Twiggy sprawling across the floor. All I know is Tisen took Duck and moved to the other side of the room.

Tisen decides to hang out with Duck. Photography note: backlight seems to create a very hazy effect with the iPhone

The Face of the BDC

Posted by dkrashb on May 20, 2013

It must be odd to be face-to-face with yourself

My husband is an expert in vintage guitars. He’s been buying and selling them for about 20 years or so. But he was always passionate about building replicas. While it’s really cool to play a collectible vintage instrument, they’re rare and irreplaceable. They’re also really expensive. So, if you can’t afford the real thing or don’t want to risk damaging it, you might choose a replica instead. Replicas are usually force-aged to look like they’ve been through years of use like a favorite pair of jeans.

My husband is one of those genius people who can figure out how to make or build anything. He invented a 3-dimensional routing machine about 18 years ago and had been collecting parts to build it since before we moved in together in 1997.

A big grin for my iPhone Camera! app

He would periodically pull our cars out of the garage and set up shop, turning our over-sized 2-car garage into a woodworking studio.

He built custom guitars when he got this itch. Usually he did it as a favor to a friend. But he periodically would come to me and start talking through a plan to build guitars to sell. I felt he needed to either be a vintage guitar dealer or a guitar maker, not both.

Ultimately, he agreed with me and he kept guitar building at the hobby level until one fateful day. That was the day he googled guitars shortly after we’d moved to Chattanooga, looking for potential places where he might find collectible guitars to buy.

A very special custom guitar project incorporating wood from a very special tree

He discovered there was a guitar shop in the large, mysterious building across the street from our apartment call the “BDC.” One evening, we went in the building to look for the guitar shop. What we learned was that this was a Business Development Center and the guitar “shop” was actually a guitar builder. They made original-design electric guitars.

As Pat learned more about the BDC and the support they provided to new businesses, he decided maybe it was time to make the shift from being a guitar dealer to being a guitar builder. So, he launched Coop Guitars in January of 2012.

He recently was asked to be one of the people included in a collage used for a banner advertising the BDC. He gets teased about this now. His fellow BDC residents like to tell him they just saw a group of beautiful young women standing around giggling over his picture. Or that a bunch of people were there earlier waiting for autographs. One of them told him he’s “the face of the BDC.”

An S-style body with curves to die for (photo by Pat)

He is taking it in stride. After all, it’s just a banner in the lobby of a building. I have to say he is looking mighty fine on that banner, though. I wouldn’t be surprised at all if they were having trouble keeping girls from lurking in the lobby hoping to run into him. That’s probably what I would do if I were single. 🙂

A collection of coop guitars (photo by Pat)

The Easy Way to Point Park

Posted by dkrashb on March 30, 2013

View from canon in Point Park

My plan was to walk from Cravens House to Sunset Rock to Point Park and then back to Craven’s house. This would be more like a loop vs just an out and back. Since both Sunset Rock and Point Park are 1 1/2 miles from Cravens House, the math in my head indicated we’d be walking 3 miles regardless of whether we did the loop or the out and back.

I forgot about the part between Sunset Rock and Point Park. Turns out that’s something like an extra mile. While I wouldn’t have minded the extra mile, the rest of the crowd turned against me. Pat completely over-ruled any consideration of walking to Point Park.

Making our way back down the trail

When we got to the point in the trail where we had to pick between walking back towards Cravens House or up to Point Park, Pat asked if we were going to Point Park. We were all surprised. Then, he clarified that he was asking if we wanted to drive up to Point Park after we got back to Craven’s House, not if we wanted to walk to Point Park.

Oh well.

On the way back to Craven’s House, the trail did a switch-back near the top of the cliff and then passed below Sunset Rock. When we were at the top, we passed a group of young adults who had hung camping hammocks between some trees that hung over the edge of the cliff.

Two hammocks visible from the trail below the cliff

We took some photos for them with their iPhones as we went by. I attempted to get a shot for me as well, but I had one of my typical moments where I believed I had my camera set on aperture priority and didn’t worry about checking the exposure. Several minutes later, when we were well down the trail, I took a peak and discovered my shot was a giant black rectangle.

When we passed underneath, I managed to get a shot of the two visible hammocks from below. It looked a lot scarier when we were looking down from the top. All I could think to myself was, “I don’t care how strong those hammocks are, how can they know the trees will hold?” After all, the trees were right on the side of the cliff with very little place to grip with their roots. I had visions of them toppling over and dragging the hammocks with the young campers with them.

Tisen making sure I’m coming along

For the record, we have seen nothing on the news about any hikers who fell from Sunset Rock, so I think they were OK.

We made it back down the trail, past the square tree branch, off the cliff, and back to Cravens House.

While we did make it up to Point Park (via automobile), we made only a quick jaunt around the asphalt path and skipped the off-road trail out to the point. I felt like we short-changed my brother and sister-in-law, but they plan to come back.

My brother and sister-in-law posing being the wheel of a canon at Point Park

Family Act

Posted by dkrashb on March 25, 2013

Posing for Granma’s Camera

Sometimes I think I’m a bit odd. Maybe just slightly kooky, a little nerdy, maybe even a bit eccentric. Then, every once in a while, I discover how truly normal I am. It’s almost disappointing, really.

For example, I thought maybe getting so excited about spending time with the wonderful birds of SOAR that it evoked childhood memories of the night before Christmas might be unusual.

Paul introduces Artie to one of the younger audience members

But what I’ve learned is that it’s not unusual at all to grin ear-to-ear when encountering wildlife up close. In fact, I believe every person I’ve seen attend any birds of prey program has responded with a similar grin. It really comes as no surprise that my brother and sister-in-law, joining us for the weekend, also exhibited the same jaw-cramping grin while helping out with an intimate show at the Little Owl Festival here in Chattanooga this weekend.

Megan holds Jerry up for all to see

The rain started early, turning into a light drizzle by the time we arrived at Audubon Acres for the festival. The organizers were fairly certain it was going to be dry for the duration of the festival. We were a bit nervous. But, we chose a back corner of the meadow, as far from the train tracks as possible, and started setting up.

We waited to start the program until after the civil war re-enactor had fired his musket a few times. Thankfully, one of the event planners thought to warn us so we left the birds in their carriers until after the smoke from the gun shots had cleared.

This birthday girl got quite a treat petting Jerry

Once things had settled down, the small crowd that had braved the early weather headed our way and we got ready to start the show. We had a small enough group to have them in a circle around us, which allowed everyone to get a front-row view of each bird, with time to pause for photos.

Megan was walking with Jerry, a Screech Owl, who was the only bird there that could be touched. Megan got the added pleasure of seeing children’s faces as they touch an owl for the first time in their lives. It’s a look that makes me smile so hard, my TMJ issues kick in and cause stabbing pain in my face. It’s worth it.

Seeing my brother with Artie makes me smile, too. I asked him what was going on in this image:

Paul trying to read Artie’s mind

He said, “He was looking at me.” The angle makes it a little hard to tell, but my brother is still grinning ear-to-ear. I kind of get the feeling that if Artie could grin, he would be, too.

By the way, I should mention that today’s photos are all by my favorite guest photographer, my husband. I put my camera on Automatic and handed it to him. Although I had to crop quite a bit because I should have put a longer lens on the camera, he did a fabulous job in a difficult shooting situation.

Paul squats to let the shortest audience members get a good look at Artie

Welcoming 2013

Posted by dkrashb on January 2, 2013

Interesting clouds over Chattanooga

Having embarrassed myself yet again by writing my blog post way too late at night, I thought I would try writing at a decent hour tonight.

In honor of the new year, it seems only appropriate to think about what I’d like 2013 to be like. As some of you may recall from last year, I am a bit of a resolution-phobe. But, it is always good to reflect on a year past and thinking about what things should come forward and which things I’d like to leave behind.

Unreleasable Prairie Falcon in Oregon

First, I have enjoyed exploring the world through a camera regularly over the past year and a half. I don’t think I’ve gone more than 2 weeks without shooting in 2012. This has provided me with a new way of looking at the world that I can only describe as a sense of careful observation combined with vast appreciation. I notice things I have not noticed in the past. I wait for things to unfold with a patience I have trouble finding without a camera. I work at getting better with both acceptance that I am imperfect and faith that I can improve. All in all, photography gives me joy and hope. This is something I want to keep in 2013.

Parking lot in Portland, OR

Second, during some parts of 2012, I managed to strike a balance between the things I love to do and the things I have to do. I lost that balance and now I want it back. Taking time out to bike, row, hike, do yoga, and bird/teach keeps me feeling happy and makes me better at everything else I do. I don’t have to do any of them really well, I just have to set aside all the things worrying me and go enjoy some time on my bike, on the river, on the mountain, on the mat, or with the birds. It’s a simple formula that requires making room in my schedule. This is something I want to regain in 2013 and I don’t want to wait for the weather to get warmer.

Assisting at a Wings to Awareness educational program for 3rd graders

Third, I really enjoy the time we spend with family and friends. Living remotely from many of the folks in those categories makes that tough. For 2013, I’d like to have more contact with more people I feel close to whether it’s over the phone, in person, or via FaceTime, these are the people who keep me grounded.

Sharing Point Park with family last summer

Finally, I have occasionally written about finding peace and, through finding it internally, creating it externally. That’s really what the previous 3 things are about–creating a sense of internal peace that help contribute to more happiness in the world. It seems like a small contribution, but as the Dali Lama said: “If you think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping with a mosquito.” Besides, a small contribution towards happiness is better than a small contribution towards anguish. A compassionate, peaceful life. That’s what I look forward to in 2013.

Enjoying a well-earned view after a 5-mile hike on Lookout Mountain

Getting onto the water not quite gracefully

14,016,000 Hours

Posted by dkrashb on December 16, 2012

I completely missed the news on Friday. By Saturday morning, posts on FaceBook were furiously popping to the top of my newsfeed about the shooting. Several were a photo of a beautiful young woman who, at 27, is believed to have died huddled over her first grade class.

I made the mistake of going to the WSJ page that profiles the victims. Every loss I’ve ever felt seemed to rise up from some place outside my consciousness and stick in my throat. These tiny children. These innocent, unsuspecting children with an entire lifetime ahead of them. All gone. In minutes.

Another post appeared on FB. It was a line from comedian Andy Bororwitz. It’s too true to be funny: “Maybe I’m a dreamer, but I wish mental health care were as easy to get as, say, a gun.”

I find myself imagining Daniel Barden going to swim practice today. Olivia Engel twirling around in a tutu. Catherine Hubbard swinging on a playground swing, snug in a warm winter coat. Chase Kowalski grinning ear-to-ear while tossing a baseball. Jesse Lewis drinking hot chocolate with bright pink cheeks, having just come in from the cold. Emilie Parker making homemade christmas ornaments for her teacher. Noah Pozner growing up and going to his bar mitzvah.

I read through the list of names that seems to go on forever. I have to stop imagining the futures that will never come.

A friend posts a quote from Mr. Rogers on FB: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’ To this day, especially in times of ‘disaster,’ I remember my mother’s words and I am always comforted by realizing that there are still so many helpers — so many caring people in this world.”

I adore Mr. Rogers. There is no one more comforting. But I remain troubled that all the helpers in the Sandy Hook Elementary tragedy–and there were many–couldn’t stop one man with 3 guns from killing 26 people in minutes. Not just 26 people; 26 futures. About 1600 years of future were lost amongst just the children killed on Friday. 1600 years, 584,000 days, 14,016,000 hours of future. How many hours does it take to cure cancer, end hunger, solve health care, find a way for us to peacefully co-exist? What did all of us lose because we collectively haven’t found a way to prevent these tragedies?

Another friend shares a post from Maya Angelou, one of my personal heroes:

“Our country is grieving. Each child who has been slaughtered belongs to each of us and each slain adult is a member of our family. It is impossible to explain the horror to ourselves and to our survivors. We need to hold each other’s hands and look into each other’s eyes and say, ‘I am sorry.’”

I am deeply, deeply sorry.

A Month Before Christmas

Posted by dkrashb on November 25, 2012

Here we are, a month before Christmas, and I am realizing we are going to be home in Chattanooga for Christmas this year. Having just returned from visiting family for Thanksgiving, I find myself feeling a bit nostalgic for the old days when family from both sides was within a 3 hour drive.

Combine that with the sudden nip in the air and I find myself wistfully wishing I had a few things to look forward to.

For one, gifts piled under a Christmas tree. There was a time when I would put up a tree and wrap all the gifts early just because I liked the way they looked. I was known for taking ridiculous care in wrapping packages, always folding every crease, never leaving a cut edge exposed, and often hand making bows from interesting ribbons.

These days, I think more about using up leftover wrapping paper, recycling old paper or gift bags, or having things gift wrapped at the store.

As my nephews have gotten older, the things they want have gotten smaller and more expensive resulting in paltry stack that barely occupies the corner of a table, let alone fills the living room. It’s a good thing they have also outgrown playing with boxes.

I gave up on having Christmas decorations, including a tree, many years ago. I found not decorating for Christmas a relief. The amount of work in exchange for a very small amount of time to enjoy the decorations (since we always went out of town) just didn’t seem worth the trade off. Especially not in January when we kept procrastinating taking down the outdoor lights in the hope of warmer weather.

Now, I watch the cars driving in and out of the tree lot across the street and find myself tempted to get a tree. But where would that lead? Next there would be ornaments, garlands, lights, and icicles. And it doesn’t stop there. It’s like a gateway drug to hard-core decorating. Before you know it, you’re putting snowflakes in the windows, lights on the windowsills, and looking for inflatable, lighted Christmas scenes for the balcony.

Instead of buying a tree, I peruse my old photos in search of Christmases past. I am reminded of cookies, snow, and our wonderful dogs, past and present.

This will be our first Christmas at home in 21 years. It will be only our second Christmas without my nephews in those 21 years. The first time, we were camping in the Everglades. This year, we will be home with no tree, no lights, no gifts, no family.

Sounds like it’s time to think of a new tradition for Christmas. Maybe I’ll look into renting a snow making machine–a white Christmas in Chattanooga would truly be a Christmas miracle.

Giving Thanks

Posted by dkrashb on November 23, 2012

Thanksgiving is the most important holiday of the year to me these days. It’s a holiday that isn’t overloaded with expectations, can be celebrated with little effort (for those of us who don’t cook), and usually offers the opportunity to reflect on all that is good in life.

It’s the last part that makes this a special holiday. It’s always easy to find something to complain about. Yet complaining rarely makes me happy. On the other hand, remembering what I have to be grateful for fills me with the sort of joy that both reminds me how good my life is and makes me sad that not everyone can find a long list of things to give thanks for.

In giving a little more thought since yesterday’s post to my gratitude list for Thanksgiving this year, here is what I came up with on my second attempt. I am grateful for:

Friends and family who accept and love me with all of my shortcomings, laugh with me when I laugh, laugh at me when I deserve to be laughed at, and remind me that the greatest joys in life often come in the smallest gestures when they’re least expected.
A world so full of wonder that I could live a thousand lives and still not come close to exhausting the potential to be awed and amazed.
The extraordinary number of people in the world who believe that kindness is more important than being right, justified, recognized, or fair. Examples: A friend of mine picks up other people’s dogs’ poop in the park. A neighbor walked across the street with a trash bag one day and start picking up the trash left behind after a marathon. A woman across the street stood on the corner asking passers-by if anyone recognized a puppy who had been hit and killed, wanting to inform the owners. Every day there are people taking care of others in ways that often go unnoticed. I am grateful to be surrounded by inspiring people.
The abundance of food that makes it possible for me to have to watch my weight. I am sometimes ashamed that not everyone in the world has the same access to basic resources like food. But for today, Thanksgiving Day, when we Americans traditionally feast until we burst, I set aside my guilt and simply feel incredibly grateful to have had the fortune of being born in a part of the world where food is plentiful and affordable.
Finally, technology. It gives me the opportunity to experiment with forms of personal expression like blogging and digital photography, the ability to make a living, and access to information from anywhere I have a cell signal. More importantly, technology connects me to people all over the world I would have never known about otherwise.

All-in-all, I am grateful I have the opportunity to live my life, to find my own path. I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday.

nomadicmainstream

Combining living on the road with a mainstream lifestyle

Category Archives: Family