Streamside

2010-06-10T15:01:00.000-07:00

Its been over two years since I posted anything here. No reason except that life's currents continue to sweep by fast and full. Following is a short story I scripted last year and seems relevant enough to post here with Father's Day drifting right around the corner.

Private Mutterings

I watched as the first ripple, the one you try so hard not to make, bounded across the shallow pool that lay ahead. Immediately a few wary trout scattered. Desperately I begged that they not alarm their brethren that finned just upstream at the head of the run. My sigh echoed the fact that this wasn’t the first time my clumsiness or lack of patient restraint had alerted fish to my presence, nor undoubtedly would it be my last.

The morning sun glinted off the clear water and warmed not only my skin, but also the blood of the coldwater residents that called this creek home. Life continued its daily routine oblivious to my presence, birds communicated through song-filled sentiments, flowers and bees began their dance in the breeze. And so I began my fishing routine as well, I breathed deeply, studied the currents, and stripped line from my reel. A few, brief false casts and my fly gently landed and began its float among the bubbles and debris of the near shore feedline. The fly floated undisturbed downstream past my feet. I repeated this process again until a brief flash engulfed my fly and line became taut, the connection between fisherman and fish was created anew. The small rainbow trout zipped and zagged, but soon quieted, and with the turn of a hook and the flick of a tail returned to an underwater retreat. I smiled with a sense of accomplishment, another jeweled memory to record and file away.

Peaceful and now relaxed after the brief visit from my piscine guest, I looked to the pool with plans for another aquatic reunion. A large splash boomed from downstream. My concentration shattered. What could possibly be invading my tranquil morning commune with this flowing river and its finned hosts? Unsure of what I might find, I turned to investigate its source. Not far away, much to my surprise and disappointment I witnessed my young son stooping to pick up a rock from the edge of the stream. Just off the edge of the stream bank, the turbidity from the previous splash still dissipated in the currents in front of him. He admired the rock that he had just selected unaware of my distant scrutiny, he was too intensely involved in the operation that had conquered his attention to acknowledge my intrusion.

The unkept curls he wore showed signs of the campground slumber from the night before. His blue eyes beamed, illuminated by the powerful tandem of imagination and discovery. His shoes were already wet at this early morning hour and his knees dirtied, neither of which he seemed to acknowledge or be concerned with. His lips moved, and I could faintly hear some of his soft intonations, the conversation seemed to carry importance, and was only truly available for his young ears. Eventually his glance wandered upstream, and I motioned for him to join me. I attempted to hide my displeasure as he approached, after all, the son of a fly fisher should be quietly watching for fish, not bombarding the stream with stony projectiles.

His footsteps jumped along the streamside path, and as he approached I noticed that the last cobble he had removed from the stream was still clenched in his fist. He wore a determined smile, and I wondered if he planned to attack the pool I was fishing with another aquatic explosion. I tensed at the potential confrontation. I wanted so dearly for my son to enjoy his outdoor experience, as unfettered as possible, yet I also felt the paternal push to enforce some discipline and impart some education on streamside ethics. His internal conversation continued to occasionally fall from his lips, his thoughts continued, unfaltering along their unseen path.

I laughed a little, remembering solitary moments spent creekside, where I too had enunciated a question or observation audibly, for only my own ears to hear, and perhaps for the eavesdropping local denizens of the stream. The moment of realization that one’s mental thoughts have slipped into oral speech would usually elicit a brief startle of surprise. These occurrences seem less out of place however alongside moving water; perhaps the setting justifies the discussion. Regardless, my son appeared to be carrying on the tradition of vocalizing his streamside mumblings exceptionally well.

His eyes caught my stare and soon we stood next to each other as the stream continued flowing on. His grip on the rock in his hand shifted, “Dad!” he exclaimed, “check this out.” I became anxious again, anticipating a splash careening through the tranquility that surrounded us. The impending lecture began to build like a cumulus cloud across my mind’s horizon. His wrist twisted, as he exposed the mossy underside of the rounded stone. His arm extended the rock forward and then held it steady at close range. I looked at him again, as his excited eyes danced with directed attention at the rock’s surface. My glance followed his, and it was then with amused relief that my eyes captured the source of his enthusiasm. Amid the moss and sand that covered the cobble wriggled a large stonefly nymph.
“What is it?” he implored, “It’s crazy-looking. It’s huge!”

I laughed again, as my previous concerns faded away. Instead I relished the unique opportunity to experience something again for the first time through the shining eyes of my son. I scooped the larva into my water bottle and sat down along the bank. He quickly followed, and grabbed a cobblestone seat, eyes glued to the creature that now crawled across the plastic confines of the bottle. I began, in very general terms that his young mind would comprehend, to describe the stonefly life cycle, and its relevance to the stream’s ecosystem. He listened intently, and for a moment we were both lost in the confines of a plastic encased world.

Eventually my diatribe included the trout that had brought us to this destination originally. A gasp exploded from his mouth when he realized that a trout could eat something so large and with such a ferocious appearance. I took this as a cue to open my scratched up fly box. Typically our journeys through the world of fly patterns occurred from the sterility of the warm cushions of the couch at home as I prepared for upcoming fishing expeditions. This time the surrounding had a more relevant reflection, and this time the search had a more defined target. I asked him to select the creation of feather and fur that most resembled the aquatic creature he had collected. Energetically he brushed his fingers through the lines of flies and nymphs and streamers, and another personal conversation began to emerge in short phrases, clusters of words that I myself had muttered over the same fly box in similar situations, “…not this one….almost…wrong color…” Finally he plucked a hook from the foam, and held it close to the bottle’s inhabitant, and then with nodding approval, my son placed the selected nymph pattern into my palm.

I tied the fly to the end of my tippet and quietly we approached the adjacent pool. He stood to my left, holding the plastic bottle and its treasure tightly. I pointed out the riffles at the pool’s head, and described a few likely places that a trout might hold; all the while the gentle stream currents swallowed our feet. Fly and line were sent hurtling forward toward the targets at the head of the run. Intently we watched the drift, two pairs of eyes sharing the same vision and the same hope. A twitch and a tug and suddenly the pool exploded alive. A splash again echoed through the valley, this one formed by a scaled inhabitant, and not from a rocky missile. We both whooped and smiled as the trout came to hand. My son beamed with accomplishment and inwardly so did I. We then watched carefully as the fish returned to its lie behind a mid stream boulder. A moment passed, no sounds could be heard but the gurgle of the creek.

Soon thereafter, the captured stonefly nymph was returned from its plastic jail into the cold currents of the stream, my son imploring him to go find a trout. He then turned to me, and with a continued smile said, “Thanks,” loud enough for both of us to hear.

That evening we told stories of our exploits, and I remembered to have a brief discussion about the reasons we shouldn’t remove rocks and throw them into the stream. I also was sure to recant that at one time I too tossed rocks into rivers, but had decided that throwing flies was far more rewarding, a difference that I like to think he too was beginning to grasp and appreciate. We roasted marshmallows and sang ridiculous songs. Later, as I sat around the campfire and listened to my son’s snores merge with the sounds of crickets and frogs I continued to reflect on the day. I had caught several more fish after he left my side at the stream, and he had continued on with his own personal adventures. But again my thoughts returned to an echoing splash, and a stonefly in a bottle, and an inquisitive young mind. Lessons were learned by generations today. Smiles were shared. Experiences were filed into memory banks, hopefully to be visited again. I realized that the first ripples, the ones I had tried so hard to make with my son, were having an effect as they bounded through the stream of his life. “Alright…” I muttered audibly, as I leaned back and closed my eyes.

2008-04-18T15:17:00.000-07:00

BACK ON THE HORSE (cont’d)

Last night’s soccer game went well. After being overly self conscious about my foot for the first few minutes I fell back in to the rhythm of the game, although my touch was severely lacking, I felt no ill effects of the play on my foot or ankle, and this morning I walked out of bed without a limp. A large hurdle in my recovery has just been cleared. I think next week it may be time to test things out on the slippery moss-covered rocks of a trout stream.

Back to the long overdue update of the past few months…

I celebrated my 33rd birthday with a few new gray hairs, and a number of close friends that had already journeyed up to our pad to hang out at the aforementioned pirate party. We all went out to dinner while my parents hung around to put the boys to bed. We followed up with a few drinks and laughs as we all circled around the table for a game of Kings. We made up about half of the rules as we went along, but still had a fun time reminiscing over a classic college card game.

A few weekends later the boys headed south to Poway for a weekend with their grandparents while Rhiannon and I enjoyed a quiet weekend as a couple. We toyed with the idea of getting out of town ourselves, but in the end decided that a relaxing weekend away from any responsibilities or schedules seemed a better option than the complications that a last minute vacation might create. We found a few new restaurants in town including a great Mexican restaurant down in the canyon with huge oak trees rising out of its patio, and a new teppan Japanese restaurant that rivaled the always dependable Beni Hanna’s. We went to the movies twice which doubles the number of trips we made in all of 2007. I caught up on some college basketball (how romantic) and we both slept more than we probably had all year. It was a good break, but by the end of the weekend we were definitely jonesing for our son's little giggles to fill the quiet house they had left behind. The boys meanwhile enjoyed a fun weekend with their grandparents complete with a ride on the new commuter train, the Sprinter - they still haven’t stopped talking about it.

The first weekend of the NCAA basketball tourney I headed out to Vegas to enjoy the festivities with a number of friends, including all three of the Reynolds’ brothers. It was a little awkward hobbling around town in my walking boot, a few times I had to ask people to walk a little slower for me, but the lights of the city quickly washed out my anxiety. On Friday we spent the entire day at a poolside cabana, yelling at the television while our fortunes bounced up and down. USD pulled off the upset of the tournament by beating Connecticut, and much celebrating was had after their incredible win. It was a rare treat to spend a weekend with Ben, Nate and Jay, (not to mention Iwan and Justin) and we all began hashing out a time this summer when we can hopefully all again converge together at a river in Utah.

We had a fun Easter complete with several Easter egg hunts. Landon’s egg hunting skills have improved significantly over last year, and he also seemed to be aware of the widening gap between his skills and his younger brother’s. As the boys poked around the yard Landon would often find an egg and then pull Colt over to ask him if he could find the egg after pointing him in the general direction. Considering Landon’s love for the sugary jelly beans held within each egg, this was a very thoughtful and selfless gesture that kind of caught his parents off guard. Landon and Colt become better friends with each passing day. They now have conversations in the car together, invent new games, and generally seem to enjoy sharing the day. At night Landon gives Colt four kisses (because he is four years old) and wishes him goodnight. It’s awesome to watch them develop a bond that they will share for the rest of their lives.

The summer is rapidly approaching, and plans for the months ahead include a backpacking trip to the Sierras, a family trip to Hawaii, some family camping trips into the local mountains, and hopefully a trip to Utah. Next weekend I will be registering Landon for his first soccer season, scheduled for the fall of 2008, and I will be registering myself to be his team coach – I can’t wait!

I’d love to fluff up my feathers and announce that I will be back to this journal soon, but rather than make an empty promise, instead I will vow to visit here again…period.

2008-04-17T16:21:00.000-07:00

BACK ON THE HORSE

I am going to play soccer tonight. It will be the first time I will have kicked the ball around for almost nine weeks. I got clearance to ditch the walking boot that was protecting my broken foot three weeks ago, and have been running a few times recently, crawled around on some boulders with the family at the local trout stream, and am ready to test it out between the chalk lines. Regrettably, those nine weeks also represent the last time I have written anything in this journal – not for lack of events or interest, but mostly due to a lack of time.

Six weeks in a walking boot and crutches is not a fun way to spend the end of winter/start of spring. No fly fishing, no surfing, no running after or carrying my boys. The end of lobster season came and went. I don’t think that Landon or Colt ever really grasped the extent of my injury. They would look at my funny shoe and acknowledge that I had an “owwie” and they seemed to understand that I couldn’t pick them up or carry them around. My crutches made fun toys to wave around. But almost every day they would hopefully ask if my “owwie” was gone, and disappointedly frown when I pointed to my still armored foot.

But all is better (knock on wood) and forgotten now. Last Sunday we journeyed over the bumpy dirt road that eventually parallels Trabuco Creek, and the boys spent the late afternoon throwing rocks in the water, looking at bugs, and generally relishing in getting dirty. I was able to not only pick them up, but to also navigate stream crossings and boulder hopping with a boy in tow. I didn’t see any trout, and the only newt I tracked down scurried under a large rock before I could point him out to Landon, but it was an awesome way to spend a spring afternoon nonetheless. The flowers and trees were embracing the season, there was even a small stone fly hatch to watch. Colt repeatedly licked dirt from his fingers.

March 1st we celebrated both of the boys’ birthdays with a pirate themed extravaganza at the local park. It’s hard to comprehend that Landon is already four and Colt now two, it seems like we were getting ready to go to the hospital only weeks ago. The party included a thirty foot long pirate ship bounce house and slide that dominated the park. We had a treasure hunt, cupcakes adorned with skulls and crossbones, and lots of kids running around with pirate hats on their bouncing little heads. Landon’s two close friends from school, Andrew and Jack, attended, and the three of them raced around like a miniature version of the three musketeers. I hobbled around like a peg legged participant, and even grew a pirate beard of sorts for the festivities. The boys both got overly spoiled with presents (again) and all of the family and friends coming together to celebrate our little munchkins made for a memorable afternoon.

A few weeks later we headed out to celebrate Colt’s actual birthday as a family, with a second attempt at an Amtrak ride to San Juan Capistrano. This time we boarded the train and Colt giggled as he bumped along on his first ‘real diesel’ train ride. We got a quick bite to eat at Ruby’s and watched the model trains chug around the ceiling. Then we raced back down to the station (as much as I could race on crutches) so we wouldn’t miss our return connection. We got there just in time and sat down on a bench to catch our breath and wait for the train’s arrival. And we waited. And then we waited some more. It was a hot spring afternoon so eventually Rhiannon decided to trudge over to the ticket booth to find out what had caused the delay. She returned with a look of disbelief - another bummed out person decided it was a good Saturday to die, and jumped in front of the train down in Solana Beach. This was the second suicide that had confounded our plans to ride the rail within the past three weeks! Either this is an epidemic that I was never aware of, or we are some sort of beacon, pulling miserable souls to the tracks like moths to a flame. Regardless, we were stuck at the train station with two tired boys in the ever warming afternoon sun. It was a long three hours, but we finally made it home. The boys were pumped again on the train ride, although I informed them that we wouldn’t be coming back for a very long time…

I have a lot more to write, but my commute home and soccer game are beckoning, so I will be back soon… I promise… maybe as early as tomorrow.

2008-02-21T14:39:00.000-08:00

BAD MOJO

This past weekend had all the trappings of a relaxing, fun-filled escape from the toils of the labor force; Thursday night was Valentine’s Day, I had a four day break from the office, and Landon was set to turn four-years old on Sunday. What could go wrong? It turns out I somehow managed to lasso a dark cloud that has followed me since, and because of the shadow an increasing surge of bad luck has loomed over my shoulder. What follows is a painful recounting.

Thursday night was Valentine’s Day, however the strains of the work week and the care of our two sons had left Rhiannon and I exhausted. We anxiously dusted off our snowboarding gear in preparation of a rare trip to the mountains scheduled for early the next morning. It was going to be Rena’s first time on a snowboard in nearly five years. We fell asleep a little after nine o’clock, without even exchanging cards, oh well, we had an extended weekend ahead of us.

Friday morning the sun lit the sky as my parents arrived in our driveway, my Dad would be joining us on the slopes, while my Mom stayed behind to entertain her grandsons. It had rained locally the night before, and the San Bernadino Mountains had received a few fresh inches of snow. The day was looking perfect. Because of posted road closures to any cars not carrying chains we opted to take my Dad’s old Camry up the hill since neither of our cars have the required snow gear (although the Pilot does have four-wheel drive). I jumped behind the wheel and we were off. Not fifteen minutes into the drive we noticed that the car was running a little hot. We shrugged it off to the toll road hills and I eased back on the gas pedal. We hit the northeastern freeway and watched the engine temperature continue to climb. When we slowed due to some traffic the gauge continued to creep upward. The needle hung just below the bright red top of the scale. By the time we reached San Bernadino and the base of the mountains we decided that we had better stop to investigate, maybe a quick trip to the local dealership could have this problem analyzed and solved and we could be back on the road.

That turned out to be a bad call. An hour later we still sat in the waiting room, no progress on our wounded vehicle to report, we instead decided to salvage what was left of the day and head back home after all agreeing that we had zero confidence in the Camry climbing to an elevation over 6,000 feet without a repair. So we gently pointed the car south, and begrudgingly headed home without feeling the refreshing splash of fresh snow across our face. At least we still had the rest of the weekend ahead of us.

After returning to Rancho without having the car completely break down, I made a few phone calls, borrowed a truck, and headed south to San Diego with my parents with the dual purpose of ensuring that they were able to get the Camry to their local mechanic, and to secondly pick up a dining room table that had sat in storage for nearly two years. The table used to hold a place of prominence in my grandparent’s home, and so now it would migrate into our dining room ready for more memories to be shard across it. In general the transport was uneventful, the table reached its new destination, but my eyes continued to drift to the snow capped local mountains that dominated the horizon on the clear winter day. We found out later that the roads were open that morning and didn’t require chains after all.

That night Rhiannon and I exchanged Valentine’s gifts, which was nice, we shared a good meal and some memories, we watched a video of our wedding that I had converted to dvd. By the time we drifted off to sleep though Rhiannon wasn’t feeling great, and by the next morning she was plagued by the stomach flu, or food poisoning, or something that left her weak, and often curled up either on the bathroom floor or in the fetal position in bed. So I essentially was left in charge of three individuals for the rest of the day.

That afternoon while Rhiannon and Colt napped, Landon and I snuck away to the local trout stream for a little exploring. Without a doubt this was to be the highlight of the weekend. Landon had never been to the creek before and we both laughed and talked our way over the bumpy dirt road. We hiked around the creek, threw rocks and floated a few flies, I hooked a trout, we shared Gatorade, trail mix and smiles. Landon asked when we could come back and took a walking stick home as a souvenir. Other than a few pictures and memories, my only trinket that I took home with me was some poison oak. Luckily Landon was spared this infection. Saturday night was quiet, and we all went to bed early to prepare for the following day – Landon’s fourth birthday.

We awoke early, and Landon and I headed out for some donuts and juice smoothies. The donuts were good, the juice place was closed. Next stop was the Irvine Amtrak station for a trip down the coast for some lunch followed by a return trip on a real, full size diesel. Any illusion that Landon and Colt had lost interest in trains was shattered the instant we arrived at the train station – they were pumped. Only problem was that some depressed soul decided that it was a good morning to jump in front of a locomotive somewhere down the line, so all trains were delayed several hours to investigate and clean up this ‘incident’. The boys were saddened and confused, they obviously didn’t understand why their highly anticipated train ride had been cancelled.

In an attempt to salvage the morning we headed over to the Irvine Spectrum mall aware that they had a small train ride and a store stocked with toy trains. Good plan we thought, until we arrived and realized that the mall wouldn’t be open for another hour. We threw pennies in fountains until our pockets were emptied and then finally rode the little train and grabbed some food. We headed back home with plans to recharge with an afternoon nap and possibly another attempt to ride the railway that evening.

I had an indoor soccer game scheduled that afternoon that initially I had written off due to the day’s schedule, but with the change of plans I was able to attend. Five minutes into the game my left foot got hit from behind and rolled over its outside, I was pretty sure I had at least sprained it, but after walking around the sidelines I limped back onto the field determined to help my team to victory. Not too much later I scored a goal and was boarded roughly by the keeper. I lightly pushed the back of his head and told him to settle down, this was after all just a recreational community league and not the World Cup. Its probably also fair to recant that this keeper outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds. He quickly turned and threw a sloppy punch in my direction which thankfully missed. I laughed and told him to take it easy. He yelled and swung again, and again. I defended myself in disbelief, not throwing punches, just determinedly blocking his. Eventually he wrestled me into the boards at which point the rest of the players on the field removed him from my back. Somehow I emerged unscathed. I continued to limp around, scored another goal, and our team won 6 – 5.

After returning home I iced my injured appendage and watched as my foot continued to swell. By the time everyone woke up and got dressed we decided a trip to the local diner, where trains looped around the ceiling on tracks, might be an easier destination for my foot. We returned home, Landon blew out his four candles and we shared some cake. Landon opened his presents (more trains) and begged to play with them for a few minutes before he went to bed. His parents of course obliged, it was the least we could do considering how badly his birthday plans had floundered. We went to bed hoping to salvage what was left of the weekend with a trip to Disneyland the following morning.

When I attempted to step out of bed the next day a jolt of pain alerted me to the fact that my foot was still swollen and now also black and blue. So instead of the happiest place on earth, I headed off to our doctor’s office. Upon arriving I was directed to an urgent care facility across town because the doctor and his associates were all booked for the day. I waited at urgent care, I waited at the radiologist, and then I waited at the urgent care some more. Eventually I left with a pair of crutches, a walking boot, and a broken foot. The weekend (what was left of it) and the impending six weeks were all officially cancelled.

Aside from the trip to the local creek, nothing this weekend went well, and even the hiking trip came tainted with poison oak. I’m struggling to remember a worse stretch of bad luck that I have waded through – ever. And I can’t come up with one. Bad things happen all the time, and really none of the events from the past weekend were that tragic. The calamity and desperation revolve around the fact that for four days straight essentially nothing went right. I was actually relieved to get back to work on Tuesday.

Ugh.

Note: Aside from this past weekend things are going well for the Buhr clan (except for the potential layoffs facing our State due to predicted budget cuts). Both boys are growing and learning and laughing, and Rhiannon hasn’t left me yet. Dakota still wags her tail. Next weekend is the boy’s shared birthday extravaganza; I pledge to return here with a fitting summary of both the party and our lives from the past 2 months.

2007-12-20T10:49:00.000-08:00

HOLIDAY SHUFFLE

It’s a busy time of year, holidays are flying around, presents beginning to pile up around the tree, money disappearing from bank accounts, temperatures falling and football seasons (both fantasy and NFL) are coming to a close. And some of those events have legitimately kept me away from this journal, and well, some of the others are just empty excuses. So in what is likely to be my only entry before 2008, here is a brief recap of the past Christmas light illuminated weeks.

This year our Thanksgiving rotation had us scheduled to celebrate the day with the Sharp family. As plans for the day evolved it became increasingly clear that the day would be a little less traditional than in years past. Aunt Andrea requested that we not start dinner until after the ‘trio’ went to sleep around 7:00pm, so our Thanksgiving meal would be pushed back several hours, undoubtedly overlapping with the Buhr boys’ normally scheduled bedtime. We took the change in stride, realizing that we could not probably even begin to understand the challenges that three, squirming six-month old babies might create.

Having most of the day free we decided to head west to Laguna for a few hours at the beach. The day was spectacular, one of those crisp fall days with little wind and clear skies, where the sun was warm and the shade was cool. The beach was empty of its summer denizens, and we had the entire cove almost entirely to ourselves. The boys and I investigated the adjacent tide pools while Rena took a much deserved nap on the sand. The intertidal zone at this beach was packed with critters including several species of fishes, sea stars, urchins, crabs and snails. The boys managed to stay dry for at least two minutes before piling into the pools poking sea anemones and giggling at hermit crabs. Landon asked why we didn’t do this more often – “it was so much fun” – I had no response but to agree.

That evening we headed over to Papa and Mimi’s house in Ladera Ranch. The three cousins and Rick and Andrea arrived awhile later. It had been several months since I had seen my nieces and nephews and the changes in them were more than significant. These once tiny preemies have exploded along the growth chart and Kaden is now barely smaller than Colt even though they are separated by 14 months in age. The ‘trio’ have rolls on top of rolls that our boys never had. All of the triplets appeared to be very healthy and if anything perhaps overfed. Unfortunately the babies did not understand the part of the evening’s plan that involved them sleeping, so attentions were diverted to keep their cries to a minimum and their mouths filled with bottles. The Thanksgiving food itself was delicious, but regrettably, only Papa Sharp and I were able to enjoy a warm plate, and the two of us broke in their new dining room, set for eight, with a quiet toast and chuckle about how crazy our lives had become.

We picked up a Christmas tree at the Lowe’s lot a week after Thanksgiving, it was earlier than I would have liked, but everyone else in the house had been asking about the tree while we still had leftovers of turkey and stuffing in the fridge. Last year we got an early tree, and by Christmas Eve the tree was no longer taking on water and brittle needles began to accumulate on the floor. This year I compromised on an early tree, agreeing to only getting a tree the day the shipment of evergreens arrived at the lot. After shaking around a few contenders we selected an 8 – 9 foot noble fir with quite a bit of width to it. Landon remarked that the tree was too big – I told him that that was impossible. We are in the process of converting one room in our house from a play area/storage room for the boys into a dining room, the room currently is empty, so we decided to take advantage of the extra space and place the Christmas tree right in the center. It looks great, and a few days later Rhiannon strung up the lights and the boys and I hung a few ornaments. Landon did a good job hanging up the various ornaments, although they were all hung at the same level, right at the upper end of his reach. Colt on the other hand seemed to enjoy throwing the ornaments more than hanging them, so after a few shattered bulbs, his duties were shifted from operations to management. Once all of the ornaments were up the boys would hunt around the tree searching out their favorite ones (mostly trains) and then pointing them out to each other. Having a tree in the house not only fills the room with some of the smells and twinkles of Christmas, but also serves as a constant reminder that the season is upon us, which instigates new projects like…

…putting up Christmas lights on the outside of the house. We live in a neighborhood where the majority of our neighbors have their lights hung outside before the Thanksgiving weekend is over. My guess is that if given the choice they would hang the lights July 5th, to ensure maximum enjoyment. Not only are the lights installed punctually, but they are also very extensive. Most homes have rows of lights adorning awnings on both first and second stories, and lawns are filled with reindeers, snowmen and Santa. Traditionally we string one row of large white bulbs along the awning in front of the garage, and leave the twenty foot high ladders to the rest of the hood. Did you know that more people are injured falling from ladders in December than any other part of the year? I just don’t want to add to that statistic. This year we did expand our normal lighting scheme to include a few illuminated snowflakes around the front window, and some strings of garland and lights around the two columns along the front walkway. Our second story however remains dark, and our lawn void of characters, but hopefully the additions will at least let the neighborhood know that we are trying.

Last week we got in the car and drove to another neighborhood in Rancho that gets citywide attention for its elaborate Christmas displays. We went with another family from up the street that has two young boys the same age as Landon and Colt. This long cul de sac converted into Candy Cane Lane has houses completely covered in lights, with singing Santa’s, and snow blowers that send snow-like bubbles into the air every half an hour. Front yards are adorned with elaborate Christmas scenes. The boys ran and giggled around, dancing with penguins and hunting for toy trains, and I happily followed with a warm cup of wassail in hand. Having two excitable youngsters to share the holidays with really does amplify the experience several fold. It’s hard not to smile and remember all of the excited anticipation that Christmas would bring every year, and all of the traditions I so eagerly looked forward to. The Christmas spirit is alive and well at the Buhr house.

A few weeks back we took the boys to visit Santa Claus for the first time (as luck would have it he was visiting at the nearby Irvine Park Railroad). We bundled up and waited in line for a chance to board the decorated Christmas train as it headed off to a small cabin in the forest that Santa was accepting visitors at. Once arriving we waited in another line to see the big man in red and white. This year is the first that Landon has fully understood the Santa tradition, complete with making a list for Santa, and being well aware that Santa is watching to determine who has been naughty or nice, and will only be bringing presents on his magic sleigh to the good boys and girls. To be honest, Santa is a great disciplinary tool, I kind of wish he was around all year. For the past month if Landon has started to misbehave I have pulled out my cell phone and threatened to call Santa to inform him about what was going on, and consistently he has apologized and ended the tantrum or disobedience. Landon definitely was impressed when finally seeing Santa in the flesh while we waited in line. He kept pointing him out to Colt, and emphasized that Santa was watching them. Predictably however, when our chance came to visit with Santa, Landon’s shyness prevailed and he refused to sit on Santa’s lap, and when we placed Colt on Santa’s lap his look of apprehension only fueled Landon’s concerns. Landon was able to enunciate the fact that he wanted “a bike and some trains for Christmas”, Colt looked at Santa and said, “woo-woos”, hopefully Santa knows what that represents.

This past weekend we headed down to San Diego for our annual Christmas party with friends. We traditionally have a secret santa gift exchange and everybody contributes to a potluck of holiday fare. Eryn supplies the latkas, and we typically bring some wassail. This year there was an extensive spread of treats supplied by Norm and Teri, as well other various other appetizers and snacks. Our Christmas parties have begun to evolve over the past few years as more and new additions to the next generation join the fray. This year we had four little tykes in attendance and a fifth (Jaxon) was home sick with the stomach flu. We got a chance to meet Adam and Diana’s new baby girl Allison and the she is a beautiful and quiet mixture of her parents. This Christmas party is always an event I look forward to every year - as our lives have all become more complicated and diverse, the times when all of us can get together are fewer and farther between. Gone are the weekly poker games and dinner’s out, now replaced by work meetings and household chores. It’s a great day every year when we can all get together and laugh and reminisce, and celebrate the strong friendships we have formed over the years. It is truly a Christmas gift.

The following evening was the Christmas show at Landon’s preschool. Earlier this year Landon had another brief show where the kids at the school sang a few songs, and Landon cried most of the time refusing to participate. Rhiannon and I both expected a similar result this time around, especially since Landon refused to divulge any information about the show itself or any of the songs he would be singing. We even warned his excited grandparents Buhr that it might not be worth the drive from San Diego. We arrived twenty minutes early to the school to find a quickly filling up church, within the next ten minutes it was standing room only. I was intimidated and I wasn’t even there to perform, things did not look good. Rhiannon walked Landon and his friend Andrew back to their classroom to get ready, and returned a few minutes later with the news that Landon was going to be one of the three wise men. Uh oh. My parents arrived just as the show was set to start. The school’s principal announced that they were just about ready to begin with only one bout of tears and refusal to participate to report. My gut said that the number of wise men in the nativity scene had just dropped to two. A few minutes later kids started to march down the center isle singing Santa Claus is Coming to Town, and after the reindeer and angels and shepards emerged three little kings! Landon proudly walked to the front of the church smiling, and even singing with a tilted crown on his head and a multi-striped tunic hanging from his shoulders. I was ridiculously proud. For the next thirty minutes Landon sang and performed. Flash bulbs flashed and camcorders turned and applause bounced through the church.

It was a learning experience for me as a father. The feeling of pride and happiness that flushed through me completely caught me by surprise. My heart raced through the entire shows and my eyes welled up. I wanted to run up onto the stage and grab Landon, squeeze him tight, and tell how stoked I was that he had done so well. Instead I waited until the reception afterwards and looked him in the eye and told him he did a great job with a smile plastered across my face. On the drive home Landon asked if “he did awesome?” – I told him he absolutely did. I thought about the years ahead, and the other accomplishments that Landon would surely achieve – if I was this proud after a Christmas play, I anticipate that my heart may explode at his high school graduation.

The past month has been unseasonably cold, complete with a few winter storms. The corresponding increase in fires in the fireplace and wassail in our mugs has added to the holiday experience this year. We have resumed our nightly viewing of a few scenes from the Polar Express each evening before bedtime for the boys, and have introduced the advent calendar tradition as well. It’s been a busy but rewarding Christmas season. The days ahead will likely be filled with last minute shopping runs and holiday traffic, but the excited anticipation of the boys as Christmas quickly approaches will help to keep our focus on the joy that the holidays are supposed to be about. I have a wonderful family, and the gifts I have received from being a father far surpass anything I expect to find wrapped under the tree.

2007-11-16T14:56:00.000-08:00

HERE I AM!

Rumors of this journal’s demise have been greatly exaggerated…. True I haven’t posted an entry in over two months, and that if I hauled out the same, tired, redundant excuses about not having time, they would undoubtedly fall on deaf ears. So without excuse or explanation – here I am – back at the Streamside, months behind but eager to catch up.

School Daze –

On Monday, September 10th, 2007, Landon Wyatt took his first step into what hopefully will be a long and productive world of education and development. This fall he enrolled part-time at Christ Lutheran Preschool. Every Monday, Wednesday and Friday morning he joins his Mom on her commute to her school (La Veta Elementary) and at 7:30 walks with her across the street to his conveniently located school. He joins a class of eleven other three-year olds where he stays until 3:30 in the afternoon. School includes play, instruction, snacks, a lunch and a nap – not bad.

Rhiannon and I were both a little apprehensive about this change. Landon would no longer have Stacey watch him, a relationship that started when Landon was only a few months old, and he would be going to a new environment, further outside of our control. The preschool had received very strong reviews from several parents at La Veta, and its proximity also alleviated some concerns. Regardless, this represented a first step of independence that Landon was taking down a path that would lead him farther away from the direct influence of his parents. We were slightly unnerved and unsure how to handle the change. With all of that being said, our initial trepidation has largely faded. Landon cried as Rhiannon dropped him off that first morning, and she dropped a few tears as well, but by the end of the week, the separation between the two became more routine.

Landon has excelled at school. He now recognizes and knows almost if not all of his letters and their associated sounds. He constantly is pointing out “L for Landon” on various signs and in his bedtime stories. His counting has improved, he can hold a pencil or crayon with two fingers and a thumb, and the side of our refrigerator is adorned with colorful art projects. Landon has a few friends, Andrew and Jack, whom he talks about and shares adventures with (a few weeks back we attended Jack’s birthday party at a local bowling alley). He periodically breaks into singing Christian themed songs, with the ‘Ballad of Johnny Appleseed’ being a repeat favorite. He listens and responds to questions, and has learned to interact and play with his younger brother without bickering or refusing to share. Basically, Christ Lutheran Preschool gets a big gold star in our book up to this point, and our sense of relief is substantial.

Sentences –

Colt has started putting words together and several short sentences are now intermixed with his ever-growing vocabulary. That being said he still also relies on an ever evolving personal language that no one but he can clearly decipher, for example his stuffed penguin that he has been dragging around lately is referred to as “Gunga”. He understands most conversations, and even sometimes does what he is asked, although as fast as his communication skills have developed, his own sense of independence has equally increased. Colt now firmly grasps that he is his own little person, with his own set of little wants and desires, the only problem is that he doesn’t always understand why those needs aren’t immediately filled. We are rapidly drifting into the stretch of the terrible-twos albeit several months early. The past month has seen a steady increase in red faced tantrums complete with moments where frustration out competes the need to breathe.

Transportation –

Both boys have become very proficient at navigating various vehicles. Landon’s favorite is his tricycle which he has become very adept at riding both forward and backward. Colt still has yet to master pedals, so he contently motors around on a Red Rider sit-down scooter that relies on foot-power. He enjoys taking the scooter off-road onto any available bumps and the structural integrity of his favorite scooter is slowly becoming compromised. Before the end of daylight savings time crippled our exploits, we would have regular bike rides around the neighborhood when I got home from work.

Earlier this fall, Landon and I took Colt on his first train ride on a full-size Amtrak diesel. It was a rainy Saturday Morning and we only traveled one stop from San Juan Capistrano to Irvine, but Colt seemed impressed with both the size and the sound of the engine. Once at the station we shared a lunch on a bench under a small roof while buckets of rain fell around. Giggles and splashes exploded around us which made the day that much more memorable. Our return train was cancelled so we had to call up Mom to rescue us from the abandoned station.

Trains still play an important role in our sons’ lives. The train table in Landon’s room is a frequent location of shared adventures between the boys and although Colt has learned how to put the tracks together he often seems to enjoy breaking them apart just as much. We still watch train videos (primarily Thomas) and the downstairs table has also become consistently littered with trains and train related items. Landon has developed the ability to integrate just about any object into his railroad adventures as some sort of important freight. With the holidays approaching I’m sure the amount of train related items at our house, which currently teeters at museum level, will only continue to expand. While at times I wish that this enthusiasm spread across several topics, I also am enthralled by how much investigation, exploration and creativity is stretched across the wooden and plastic tracks on our family room floor.

Halloween –

This year’s Halloween represented the first time that Colt was old enough to carry a bucket and beg for treats from the neighbors, and also represented the first time that Landon truly grasped how this great holiday works. Rhiannon got a pumpkin costume for Colt, and a week or so before the big day Landon decried that he also wanted to be a pumpkin for Halloween. So we had a pair of pumpkin brothers rolling around the neighborhood surrounded by various ghosts and pirates and princesses and super heroes. Landon also dressed up as a green crayon at his school and joined the other crayons in his class for some on-site trick or treating. We carved an angry and a happy jack-o-lantern, and played with pumpkin guts while watching Elmo’s Halloween Adventure. The boys continued to trick or treat for residual candy for the next few weeks until they (with a little help from their parents) had depleted their supply of sweets.

Wildfires –

The middle of October this year found Southern California smothered under a dark cloud of smoke. Several wildfires raged out of control from Santa Barbara south to San Diego. Two of these fires burned far too close to family and friends. In Poway, the Witch Creek fire burned within less than a block of my childhood home and the current residence of my parents. They were evacuated for close to a week and even spent a night sleeping on our floor. Their house was spared by the amazing work and dedication of the firefighters on scene, looking at the maps of the fire’s border during the evacuation I had pretty much written of the house, and was relieved that my parents had escaped. I haven’t been back down to Poway since the fires, but from all description the charred earth left behind is the tangible definition of a wasteland.

Simultaneously a second fire burned just north of our home in rancho Santa Margarita. Labeled as the Santiago fire, this blaze was set by some arsonist creep during the building santa ana winds. The fire devastated over 20,000 acres of primarily open space and natural habitat, a large portion of which surrounds the canyon route Rhiannon often takes on her commute to avoid the toll roads. Her first visit back she cried when she witnessed the vast destruction. The fire burned to within less than two miles of our home, if it had entered the adjacent Trabuco canyon (and its trickle of a trout stream) the devastation and threat to our home would have been immediate. Luckily the winds subsided in time for the fire to burn back on itself and over the mountains to the east. We walked to the park down the block several times during the week of the fires to watch the flames crawl over the hillsides north of our town. Thousands of neighbors and residents would migrate through the area throughout the day to check on the fires slowly advancing perimeter. We had boxes of valuables packed, but fortunately the call to evacuate never came. The smoke lingered in the air for close to two weeks keeping us primarily enclosed within the confines of our house, which after awhile had us all going a little stir crazy.

Summary –

There are innumerous other events over the past few months worthy of mention that I will only begin to list here. Rhiannon and I celebrated our 7th wedding anniversary (in Las Vegas), I joined an adult indoor soccer league in Rancho and although my knees are groaning it has been a blast, lobster season has opened again complete with a lobster tailgate with the Reynolds crew at a recent Chargers game, the saltwater fish tank is quickly outgrowing its glass confines, we’ve visited Disneyland a few times and finally waited in the line for the new Nemo ride, but most importantly we have been healthy and smiling significantly more than frowning. Life is good.

2007-09-11T21:17:00.000-07:00

Buhr Family Vacation 2007

What follows is a brief synopsis of the recent trip to the islands the Buhr clan experienced. Each day is broken up into its own seperate post, complete with a few pictures relevant to the day's adventures. Enjoy.

2007-09-11T21:11:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, August 7th, 2007

We woke up before dawn and piled the sleepy boys into the car in my parent’s driveway, and after filling their laps with cinnamon rolls and bottles of milk, flicked the headlights on and headed for the Sand Diego airport. The first challenge of the journey would be to check all eleven of our bags at the curb without leaving something behind, losing the kids, or getting the cars towed. The mad scramble went fairly well, although at one point after getting my driver’s license back from the check in clerk I turned to see the boys, alone in their stroller, staring blankly at the piles of bags around them, probably wondering if they would be checked next. Cars were parked in a long term lot, and my dad and I cruised through the security, and met up with the rest of the crew in front of a large indoor, kelp forest fountain. Colt and Landon spent the down time before boarding, checking out all of the planes and other vehicles that scurried around outside on the runway, anticipating their turn to take to the skies.

Rhiannon and I were very nervous about the potential madness that could ensue during a 5 hour flight with two young boys trapped within the confines of a few seats on a plane. We were prepped with toys and snacks and more toys, and blankets. And thankfully the flight was uneventful. Colt slept for a few hours, and Landon lap hopped playing new games with each family member along the way. When I explained to Landon that the plane was going really fast so that it could fly through the air, he looked perplexed since it didn’t feel like we were moving at all. I guess he had hoped to feel the rush of a 500mph wind flowing through his curly mop.

After touching down we got to do the same eleven bag shuffle, except this time in the tropical heat, but that humid blast of Maui air awakened old memories that made the sweat nearly enjoyable. We piled in a big black van and headed to our final destination Maui Sunset.

The condo we stayed in at Maui Sunset - sweet, sweet B219, had been my grandparent’s tropical getaway since 1980. During my adolescence our family spent at least ten Augusts in Maui at the condo, and not only do I have a bank filled with memories from those trips, but I feel that this time spent splashing around has had a significant impact on my development into the person I am today. To say that I was excited to begin my sons’ baptism into this inspiring arena would be more than an understatement. Admittedly, it did feel a little strange to be a parent, while my parents were now the grandparents of the two latest Buhr boys. Time marches on.

Landon passed out in the van shuttle to the condo and was tired enough that we could transfer him into a stroller where he slept for the next few hours. Colt wasn’t quite as interested in sleep, but we managed to get him to rest in his travel crib for awhile as well. This provided us with time to unpack, grab some groceries, pick up rental cars and install the mildew infused car seats provided by the rental company. More importantly we got a chance to sit on the balcony and stare through the palm trees at the familiar Pacific.

After Landon awoke he joined Rhiannon and I in a game of shuffle board. The courts are right below the condo balcony and have always provided a source of entertainment for the family. Granddad Mleynek was particularly fond of the game, and so of course pushing around the discs with my son caused another flood of memories that I realized would become unavoidable throughout the trip. At one point in the game Rhiannon built a lead of 28 to -1, but I managed to overcome the 29 point deficit and claim victory.

Colt and Justin soon joined us so we decided it would be a good time to visit the adjacent beach. The beach fronting Maui Sunset is a very thin strip of sand that becomes inundated with stranded green algae after high tides. This abandoned algae quickly rots in the island sun and expectedly begins to stink. The condo has contracted a local tractor driver to pile up the offending plant material and cover it with sand daily which works fairly well to minimize the stench and clear the beach. This trip the algae seemed noticeably less present so perhaps the situation is improving. We found a clean patch of sand and proceeded to throw rocks and coral rubble into the gentle approaching waves. The boys ended up covered in wet sand and smiles. Justin caught two small papio for them to investigate. The sun began to set. It was a great end to the day of our arrival. We had some great local fish from Alexander’s for dinner and all were asleep at a relatively early our, which turned out be a good thing because….

2007-09-11T21:06:00.000-07:00

Wednesday, August 8th, 2007

….at 4:30 am Colt and soon thereafter Landon decided it was time to wake up and begin the day - it had after all been light for several hours back in Southern California. Not wanting to wake the rest of the condo up, and realizing that being locked in the bedroom with two energetic boys would be torturous, we plopped the early risers in the stroller and headed out for a pre-sunrise walk down the local street. The narrow street parallels the beach and is overgrown by the attempts at landscaping from the residents that call this street home. A few empty lots are overgrown with dense trees. As we walked the sun lined the peak of Haleakala with silver, and out of the darkness some of the local roosters began to welcome the day. Landon and Colt sat upright, listening intently for the next crow from the surrounding darkness. Our morning walk evolved into a rooster hunt, and for the rest of the vacation, any visit to this road, whether by vehicle or pedestrian became another excited search for roosters.

We returned to the condo and joined my parents on the balcony for a quiet breakfast. After finishing our meal, it was almost 7am, so we walked down to the local beach again but this time headed south. A little over 100 yards down the beach is a rubble construed coral reef that becomes exposed at low tides. As kids Justin and I spent hours on this reef turning over rocks anticipating what creatures might swim out and into our awaiting nets. So now some 25 years later I headed out on the reef again, this time holding a bucket and net for Landon while Colt babbled along in his mom’s arms. Before too long we had captured several different fish species which were investigated, kissed, and promptly returned to the water so they could, “go find their mommy and daddy” as Landon would explain. We then chased around a small octopus. I’m pretty sure this was Landon’s first experience with a cephalopod in the wild, so the squirts of ink and instant camouflage color changes continued to surprise and impress him. Eventually the octopus was corralled into the bucket so that mom and Colt could safely investigate. After a few pokes the octopus was also safely released. Soon Landon was hunting for crabs and catching the small ones with his bare hands and excitedly showing off his prize catches. Colt had some difficulty maneuvering on the wobbly substrate and eventually his frustration sent him and Rhiannon back to the condo. I really enjoyed revisiting the reef with my marine science background more developed, and relished the opportunity to introduce my son to some new ocean friends. Landon and I poked around until the morning breeze kicked in and then we too returned to determine our next destination.

It was decided that we would rive down to Kamaole Beach Park II for the remainder of the morning. This beach is a short drive to the south and includes a large sandy beach surrounded by lava points on either end. The southern of these points was our daily morning fishing destination in year’s past. This morning however we left the fishing rods behind, and instead replaced them with sand toys and beach chairs. The water was near 80ºF and the air temperature was slightly warmer. The boys rolled around on the beach and played in the small surf making sure to get sand into every possible nook and cranny. I pushed both of them into a small wave on a bodyboard, an experience that Colt seemed to enjoy more than Landon, although neither asked me to do it again. Both boys also got trips into the “deep blue water” in their dad’s arms, and giggled as the ocean surge rolled them back and forth while they stared at the islands that dotted the horizon line. I swam out for a brief snorkel and marveled at how little the reef had changed. The same coral structures and fish assemblages were present now that inhabited the reef a decade ago. The permanence of these communities, while the rest of my life has changed, provided comfort.

The afternoon was spent relaxing while the boys napped. Rhiannon and I challenged Justin and my dad to a game of bocce ball on the lawn which we handily won. We drank some pog, it was beginning to feel like a vacation.

That evening we journeyed down to the shore south of Makena to a lava encrusted stretch of coastline where we had spent many hours fishing and watching the sun disappear in the past. My cousins Ben and Leah and her daughter Chloe joined the rest of the Buhrs on the trek. We found a patch of sand with a large adjacent tide pool that the boys bombarded with stones. We tried unsuccessfully to get Chloe to catch a fish. A large green sea turtle came within a few feet of the shore grazing on algae, providing an opportunity for everyone to observe the massive marine reptile. Landon recognized the creature from his frequent viewings of Finding Nemo. The sky filled with color as the daylight slipped away and we packed our wet family into their car seats for the short ride back to the condo. Some local food was picked up from Da Kitchen on the way back, and we enjoyed a dinner of kalua pig out on the balcony while discussing the day’s events and the plans for tomorrow. It was a perfect introduction to the trip.

2007-09-11T20:55:00.000-07:00

Thursday, August 8th, 2007

The morning had a more relaxing start, as our tired boys slept in until at least 6am, and their grandparents mercifully entertained them for a few hours after that so that Rhiannon and I could catch up on some much needed sleep. Colt went down for a late morning nap, and while he slept Rhiannon, Landon and I slipped down to the pool to splash around with Chloe. The pool itself is not well designed for a small child like Landon without any developed swimming skills, so he was restricted to hanging out on the steps when not being dragged around the shallows while playing “motorboat” with his dad. Landon is very cautious around the water, which is a good thing for my peace of mind, and would only venture out from the safety of the steps when his arms were firmly latched around his dad’s neck. I look forward to the days ahead when he will be able to swim comfortably through the aquatic realm.

Colt awoke shortly thereafter and we all piled in our cars for the half hour commute west to the town of Lahaina. The drive parallels the coast most of the way, and I immediately fell into the old habits of scanning the horizon for breaking waves. Unfortunately, as was the norm for the entire trip, the Pacific was exceptionally tranquil and the waves that lapped the shore measured less than a foot in height. After driving the wrong way down a one-way street in town we navigated to a safe parking spot and joined the rest of the family for lunch at Kimo’s. This waterfront restaurant was another favorite of my grandparent’s and we all ordered a round of mai tai’s and other tropical concoctions in their honor. Our table was directly against the seawall, and Landon was enthralled to discover some large shore crabs crawling over its rim. Leah and Chloe were not nearly as excited. We had an outstanding lunch, and any remaining leftovers were thrown over the wall to feed the hungry fish that cruised the shore. Landon and Colt had a blast as their uncle tossed French fries into the water and then pointed out the different fish that came to investigate a free meal. We all agreed that the lunch had far exceeded our expectations.

Landon still holds a strong addiction to trains, and has now fostered equal enthusiasm for the railway in his younger brother. To accommodate their obsession we ventured across town to the Old Lahaina Sugar Cane Train for a ride on the steam engine. The restored engine takes passengers on a round trip to the neighboring town of Kanapalii and back. The old line was bumpy, and the open coaches were hot in the windless afternoon, but the boys relished every minute. They scanned the views, studied the tracks as they passed underneath, pointed at the railroad signs and smiled. After we returned to the station from the hour long ride, both were ready for a repeat trip – their parent’s were ready for a drink.

After returning home we had a quiet evening and dinner while we watched the light fade on another day. After the boys drifted off to dream of the sugar cane train we gathered around the table for a few rounds of Boggle. Then as my parents also began to tire, Justin, Rhiannon and I walked down to the beach and shared a few drinks and stories under a big tree while the moon glistened off the ocean at our feet.

2007-09-11T20:52:00.000-07:00

Friday August 10th, 2007

One of the driving reasons behind our family excursion to the islands this summer was to honor and memorialize my grandparents Mleynek and their recent passing. One request we planned to fulfill was to have their ashes scattered together across the Maui seascape that they treasured so dearly. The property managers for Maui Sunset also agreed to assist us in our tribute by planting a palm tree on the grounds to honor Frank and Harriet. So Friday morning, my parents accompanied Landon and I down to the front lawn to watch as a large tractor (the same guy that pushes around all of the seaweed) planted the tree. The palm itself was a significant tree, easily measuring over fifteen feet in height, so watching as the tractor hoisted and then dropped the entire tree and root mass into a large hole in the ground was quite a show. On the Maui Sunset property there is a large landscaped sign comprised of flowers that reads Maui Sunset. The sign measures over 100 feet long and grows on a small hill, located directly between the balcony at B-219 and the ocean. The tree was planted on the top of the ridge, directly in the middle of the signs upper perimeter. It was a well deserved and prominent memorial for an incredible couple. In the years ahead we plan to return and establish a plaque at the tree’s base. I could feel my grandparent’s smile from the balcony as we watched the palm fronds catch the late morning breeze.

By the time the tree was firmly secured it our stomachs began to signal that it was time for lunch. We headed down to Ma’alea where we met up with my Aunt Sheryll and Uncle Darryl and the rest of their crew for lunch at Buzz’s Wharf, another family favorite. The restaurant has a great ocean view of the small harbor below and the ocean and island beyond. The reef surrounding the break wall for the harbor is home to “Freight Trains” once labeled as the fastest right breaking wave in the world. Justin and I spent many summer days slipping into barrels here in the past, however on this afternoon the spray from the waves did not even reach above the rock jetties. Lunch again supplied us with good food, and also gave us a chance as a family to discuss and plan that evening’s memorial service for my grandparents.

The Maui Ocean Center Aquarium is located in Ma’alea, so after eating we ventured down the road to look at some of the splendid underwater residents of the islands. Both of the boys laughed and ran through the dark tunnels of the building, peering through illuminated windows displaying local organisms and their striking shapes and colors. The Aquarium has a large open ocean tank that is home to the only Tiger Shark in captivity in the world. The shark was impressive, and definitely appeared more menacing than other sharks that I had viewed in the past. It swam with a subtle power that was both intimidating and inspiring. It was great to sit right up against the glass with boys and with them chase fish around the enclosure with wonder filled eyes.

That evening at sunset we gathered around the recently planted palm tree and shared a quiet memorial to our family’s patriarchs. Small containers filled with a portion of the ashes were buried is the fresh soil at the palm’s base, flowers and stones were placed, and prayers, poems and memories exchanged. Then as the sun sank into the ocean Justin and I walked out to the tip of the rubble reef point and with quiet appreciation scattered the remains of Frank and Harriet Mleynek to the winds and colored skies of Maui. The trade winds gusted as we mouthed our goodbyes. We began our walk back to the bluff where the rest of the family awaited our return. As our feet touched the sandy beach, the usually predictable and powerful winds abruptly stopped. The coast was quiet and still. It was almost as if the island was also taking a pause to remember. The evening continued back at B-219 with dinner and drinks and happily shared memories and appreciation of family. The younger generation gathered around to play a few hands of Uno, a card game that always entertained our grandparents during family vacations. The night, as a whole, and in a greater sense the entire vacation served as a perfect tribute to the people that has influenced all of our lives so importantly. Rhiannon, Justin and Leah slipped out to the beach later that night; I decided to get a good night’s sleep in preparation for the arduous day planned ahead….

2007-09-11T20:46:00.000-07:00

Saturday August 11th, 2007

…at 5:30am I felt a tug on my foot, and there at the foot of my bed stood my dad, dressed and ready for our early morning hike. We grabbed some bottles of water and snacks and jumped in the car, next stop the outer rim of the crater of the Haleakala volcano. After a winding drive through the upland grassland of the mountain we arrived at our trailhead at an elevation of nearly 8,000 feet. It was early and cold, and I was glad to have the long sleeved shirt I had stuffed in my back pack. A pair of Nene geese greeted us in the parking lot, along with a vanload of Japanese tourists that clamored over each other to get a picture of the rare endemic birds. We headed along the Halemauu trailhead on a hike that would descend 1,400 feet to the crater floor below, with a final destination of the Holua cabin. Total distance traveled on the hike would be just over 8 miles. As we descended the switchbacks into the volcanic landscape below the sun rose higher in the sky and so did the ambient temperature. Layers were shed and water was enjoyed as we plodded forward, pausing to share the expansive vistas. Fourteen years ago my dad and I trudged completely across the crater on a hike that still brings back hot and thirsty flashbacks of dragging through trails covered in volcanic sand. This return trip would be shorter than that preliminary excursion and avoided the trails that held names like the “shifting sands trail’. After that first hike I swore I would never hike the crater again. But now, as a father myself, I looked forward to the chance to spend the day along with my dad in the warm Maui sun, sharing the experience of a hike, a passion of his that he has nurtured throughout his life. We reached the cabin, took a few pictures, saw another pair of Nene geese, and checked out a shallow lava tube. I plopped a lava rock in my pack for Landon to share this experience across three generations of Buhr boys. We returned to our car at the trailhead by 2pm and looked forward to the fortification some food and a soft couch might provide.

Rhiannon, the boys and Justin spent the morning at the local beach in front of the condo. They had a relaxing time rolling in the sand and chasing sand crabs. Upon our return from the volcano Landon was still sleeping his nap away, and after the long hike in the heat a jump in the pool sounded more than refreshing, so Rhiannon, Colt and I headed down to plunge into the water. The experience with Colt in the water is far different than the time spent with Landon at the pool. Colt dunks his head underwater and laughs, and constantly motions for someone to ferry him around the pool while he squirms and wiggles, ambivalent to the possibility that he might slip out a grasp and sink into the water surrounding him. He splashes and squeals with delight and exhibits no signs of trepidation which is fun to watch but can be a little unnerving as well.

Refreshed, we loaded the boys into the stroller and walked down to the Big Wave restaurant located just down the road in Kihei at the Azeka marketplace. Chloe joined Rhiannon, the boys and I as we ventured down the local road on what evolved into another exciting rooster hunt. The roosters didn’t voice their presence, but we were able to locate a few pecking around a lawn for food. Everyone joined together for dinner and another night spent around the table with family was shared. Once returning to the condo my dad quickly propped up his feet and fell asleep on the couch. We took this as our cue to enjoy one last trip down to the tree which was highlighted by a meteor shower that occasionally zoomed across the night sky.

2007-09-11T20:40:00.000-07:00

Sunday, August 12th, 2007

This morning Landon, Colt and I decided that we would make another trip out to the local rubble reef with nets and buckets to see what new critters we might be able to discover, and without much persuasion my parents decided to join us as well. A short while into our exploration we managed to corral a small, purple and yellow striped moray eel. Landon seemed to instructively know that this little guy could give him “owwies” so he gave the fish the respect that it deserved. Ha caught a few different species of reef fish again, and after catching one small mullet Landon asked to hold the little fish. Knowing that this might be a tough squeeze (literally) for the fish, but also realizing the impression holding the small creature might have on him, I relented to his request. He carefully grabbed the fish between his thumb and fore finger and then proceeded to tell me he liked to eat fish and began to place the wriggling fish into his mouth. I pulled his hand away before he was able to chomp down although I’m pretty sure he got a good salty taste in his mouth. Begrudgingly he agreed to release his potential meal and the little fish spiraled away back into the ocean. Colt and Landon both threw rocks for awhile and then we decided it was time to return to check on mommy. We chased sand crabs along the beach, until Landon decided it would be more fun to imitate the little crustaceans. We played a fun game where he would race ahead of us and then lay down like a crab to block our path. Once we dodged the obstacle he would run ahead to repeat the encounter. Both boys giggled excitedly, and enjoyed the game enough that we still play this game occasionally back at home in California.

We drove west to Lahaina again for a repeat lunch at Kimo’s which again did not disappoint either in the quality of food, or in the crustacean and piscine entertainment for the younger members of our group. This was Leak and Chloe’s last day, so we invited them for a short impromptu stop at the beach on the way home. We pulled the car over at the shallow reef and narrow beach of Olowalu. Justin, Chole, the boys and I splashed around in the water while Rhiannon and Leah observed from the safety of the sand. I dug a pair of goggles out of the trunk and paddled Chloe out on a bodyboard to check out some of the reef fish. She had lived her entire life on the Big Island of Hawaii and had never been snorkeling before, so this was an exciting experience for both of us. I’m not sure who enjoyed it more. It was great to interact with Chloe as a child, so often she acts like more of an adult than I do, and her animated points and responses about the fish we discovered were awesome. Soon thereafter the trade winds kicked up and the gusts picked up the fine sands on the beach and sent the grains hurtling into our exposed skin like tiny, stinging missiles. We retreated to the safety of the car and returned to the condo wet and sandy but mostly unscarred.

After returning to the condo we cleaned up and Rhiannon and I headed out to dinner, alone, and left the boys in the care of my parents. We headed south to Kihei and stopped at Pupu’s Grill along the main coastal road. We sipped a drink at the bar and waited for a table outside on the patio to open up. The time alone gave us a great chance to recant about the trip that was so quickly coming to a close, and also to discuss future vacations for the family. For dinner we shared a heaping sampler of pupus (appetizers) served on a rotating circular tray with a volcano like flame extending from its center to warm/cook the food. The food and drinks were enjoyable, and the time together alone was special. After over ten years together, Rhiannon can still make my smile erupt into laughter and warm my heart with her caring ways. I feel so privileged and blessed to have her as my partner through all of our crazy adventures.

After dinner we swung by the condo and picked up Justin enroot to a bar just down the street called Tip Up’s. The three of us had a good time watching the local residents interact while a few tourists fumbled around the dance floor. We walked back to Maui Sunset, at which time Justin headed up to bed while Rhiannon and I decided to stay out and continue our night down at the beach. We watched the continuing meteor shower and listened to the waves roll along the sand, and shared stories and thoughts, not worrying at all about what time might read on the face of our watch, lost for a few hours on a deserted Hawaiian beach. It was perfect.

2007-09-11T20:37:00.001-07:00

Monday, August 13, 2007

The morning of our last full day of vacation was spent lazing around the condo, trying to decide how we wanted to spend our final hours of the trip. By late morning we packed into the car and headed south to Wailea and Ulua Beach. This beach sits among several of the high end resorts located in Wailea and displays a wide, white-sand beach, with a lush, tropical back drop due to the landscaping from the adjacent resorts. Lava points and their associated reefs to the north and south provide some good snorkeling, and the waves that lapped the shore were again small and benign. At this point of the trip, after spending several days playing in and around the small surf, both Landon and Colt had become noticeably more comfortable frolicking around in the ocean’s surge. They would giggle and flop themselves down in front of the incoming whitewater, unconcerned as water rolled over them and tossed them around. They both continued to leap into any available arms willing to carry them out into the deeper water beyond the swells, where again their comfort level in the water was significantly more apparent compared to similar ventures made early in the trip. Landon commandeered an abandoned sand castle that had roads and tunnels for his trucks and trains - it didn’t take too long however until hurricane Landon struck the compound, leveling it down to beach level in a few glee filled moments. The air was still on the beach and as the morning temperatures continued to rise Rhiannon joined me for a swim out to the reef to take a look at some of the local underwater residents, it was great to hold her hand as the ocean’s surge pushed us gently along the top of the reef.

We put the boys down for their final, Maui fever induced naps and Justin, Rhiannon and I slipped out for some last minute souvenir puirchasing. We ended up at Pupu’s Grill again and were distracted from our original shopping target by a few happy hour mai tais. From there we walked around the nearby flea market, but the only gifts purchased were a set of bibs embossed with Hawaiian prints for the triplets. Nothing jumped of the shelves as a fitting tribute to help memorialize our trip, and as the hours ticked away from our last afternoon we scurried back to the condo to pack up everyone else for one last island sunset and evening of splashing waves down at our traditional south shore beach.

The boys crawled into a large tide pool again and repeated their games of throwing rocks into the surging ocean. Justin caught a snapper species that we had never hooked before in all of our previous trips. The fish was released into the boys’ tide pool and swam around their excited feet for a few minutes before finding its way back out to sea. The sun flicked between clouds on the horizon, coloring them pink and orange as it slipped below the water. It was a beautiful end to the vacation.

As dark crept in, Justin piled into the backseat of our sedan and wedged himself between the car seats to join us for the drive home. The back seat erupted into a laugh filled ruckus developing first from the boys both screaming “Ducky!” at their uncle at the top of their lungs. No one is completely sure how this nickname developed, but the boys found it hysterical. The laughter then turned into a dance party as Justin and the boys kicked and squirmed to the beats emanating from the radio which was nothing short of hilarious. As we drove for the last time down the local, ‘rooster hunt’ road in the dark, Rhiannon jubilantly screamed as she pointed to a toad hopping across the road. I stopped the car and she jumped out, grabbed a net from the trunk, and proceeded to scream even louder in disbelief as she captured the warty amphibian. I drove the remaining few blocks to the condo with my hand out the window, holding the net and its imprisoned prize until we could park the car so Landon and Colt could investigate. Both boys seemed impressed by their Mom’s bravery and skill and after a few pokes and prods the toad was released to go find his, “mommy and daddy”.

My parents picked up Alexander’s again on the ride home, so the local fish that we enjoyed as our first meal of the vacation would fittingly also be our last. The food was a delicious repeat performance. We then headed upstairs to say goodbye to the rest of the remaining Mleynek family before they also left behind their island home for the colder shores of Portland, Oregon.

Soon thereafter, inspired by Rhiannon’s hunting prowess, Landon and I snuck out in the hopes of capturing a few more toads under the supervising glow of the moon. With flashlights and nets in hand we crossed the perimeters of the Maui Sunset lawn, and our exploits were not to be in vain. Together we located and caught eleven brown, bumpy toads, several of which Landon caught without any assistance from his Dad. It was another final trip down the memory road as Justin and I had underwent similar late night toad hunts under our dad’s supervision some twenty-five years prior. We returned to boast of our successes, and Landon’s pride filled descriptions of our adventures were the absolute prize of the hunt for me. After tucking the boys into bed we headed down to the jacuzzi for a short soak, and then joined my parents and Justin in a final game of Boggle. The game was filled with laughs and recollections and sighs as we realized that tomorrow morning our wonderful family outing would draw to an abrupt close.

2007-09-11T20:32:00.000-07:00

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

Our last morning was filled with the unmemorable tasks of packing all of the piles of gear and toys into suitcases, returning rental cars, and jumping into the airport shuttle. As we drove through the green sugar cane fields Landon declared how much he liked Hawaii and that he had a lot of fun. He said he would miss “the Hawaii ocean and the Hawaii palm trees”. Our flight home was uneventful, and at just after 8pm California time we touched down in San Diego. At 11:30pm we crossed our doorstep in Rancho Santa Margarita where we were greeted by the wagging tail of Dakota. It was nice to be home within our familiar walls, but already I missed the ocean views and warm breezes of the balcony at B-219.

It has taken me a few weeks to find the time to record this brief history of our Hawaiian exploits. Life continues to be busy now that we have returned to the hectic lifestyle that unfolds around work schedules and day care and all of the other minutia the drapes itself across our days. A few final thoughts that might be worth recanting here before I turn away from the computer and hit ‘Save’ one final time. I never described previously the relationship that developed between my dad and Colt during the trip. No matter where we were or what we were doing, Colt made a point of searching out his granddaddy and squealed with delight every time he came to rest in his lap. I think the bond warmed both of their hearts. There were also some late night shenanigans that involved my cousin Ben that developed into an entertaining side story to the trip. For a trip that involved little fishing and no surfing, I had a tremendous time. More than anything, I came away from this trip awash in the good fortune that has permeated throughout my life. I treasure the early experiences that I was able to undertake as a child, knowing with such confidence the impact they have had on the person I am today. And I am motivated to ensure that my sons get to partake in a diverse and stimulating childhood as well. I want them to be able to look back on their past with the same appreciative smile that I wear as I type this. More than anything though, I hold tight to them and my wonderful wife, my companions as we tread through the life we share. I couldn’t have imagined a better team.

Aloha.

2007-07-13T13:52:00.000-07:00

INDEPENDENCE

I realize that the window for relevancy may have passed on topics related to the 4th of July, but I figured I would quickly recap our experiences over the holiday. Rancho Santa Margarita has a good bit of community participation for the day, with events including games, and music as well as the traditional fireworks extravaganza. This year instead of trekking to the beach we decided we would do our best to join in the activities.

The night of the third we had dinner with our neighbors Carrie and Dave along with their sons Jake and Cole. We decided to all walk down to the lake for a little sushi so the boys could run around like maniacs while we ate. Their sons and Landon and Colt are each separated in age by only a few months, so they both form little dynamic duos of three and one year olds, although since Cole hasn’t started walking yet so their duo is a little less than dynamic. Dinner was crazy yet comfortable which in general describes just about any family outing at this point. While we were finishing we noticed that people were already putting down blankets on the grass surrounding the lake to stake out their territories for the following night’s fireworks show. So after we returned home I set off back to the lawn with a tarp and a few tent stakes to claim a piece of prime real estate for the Buhrs.

The next morning I awoke early with plans of grabbing a few lounge chairs for the family to hang out at during the day at the local swimming lagoon. By 7:30am I headed down to the lagoon with a few towels to reserve some seats and make sure that we would be able to get into the lagoon for the day. For the holiday the community center puts a cap on the number of people allowed access to the lagoon for both comfort and safety reasons. I arrived to find a line of people getting admitted and once inside the gates had to quickly scurry to acquire three of the last remaining chairs. The areas surrounding the water were bustling, people already had full cabanas erected and bbq set ups fired up. Apparently the people of RSM really like to embrace the birthday of their country. I put Rena and the boys on the guest list and settled in to watch the madness unfold. I also noticed that the grass surrounding the adjacent lake was almost completely covered with blankets and tarps and now more resembled a patchwork quilt than a green lawn. All of this activity before 8am on a holiday, I was exhausted, but relieved that we had the day ahead of us complete with chairs and blankets to enjoy the day.

Shortly thereafter Rena dropped off Landon and by 10am her and Colt joined us on the sand. Because of the imposed lagoon capacity limit, things weren’t nearly as crowded as I had expected. We enjoyed a leisurely time on the sand and splashing around in the water. Colt bravely wades out far enough that when he falls to his bottom his face sinks underwater, which is obviously unnerving, while Landon exhibits far more caution when playing in the water. By 2pm we were tired and ready for naps so we bequeathed our valuable lounge chairs to another less fortunate family that had arrived at the lazy our of 8:15am.

That evening Andrea and the trio showed up and we bbq’d burgers in the backyard. The triplets are getting big enough where they are starting to look like regular babies, although they are still all smaller than either of our boys were at birth. The site of all three of them lying together still reminds me of a litter. They all joined us at the fireworks show that night much to the surprise of some of the groups that surrounded us. The trio slept through the show thankfully. Landon seemed especially pumped on the fireworks and also the fact that we were outside having fun, way past his normal bedtime. Colt was far more apprehensive about the colored explosions and echoing booms; initially he cried but once he lied down next to his Dad, he snuggled in, quieted down and took in the rest of the show. His little blonde head resting on my chest will be the memory I keep from the day.

The past week has also included the development of another form of independence – Landon has left behind his days of wearing diapers and entered into the world of underwear. After a few weeks of sporadic use of the toilet, his trips to the porcelain throne became increasingly more consistent to the point that last week he slipped into a pair of Cars embossed underoos, and hasn’t looked back since. We still frequently have to remind him that its time to try and use the toilet, and his aim still leaves a lot to be desired, but it is positive progress nonetheless. He has had a few accidents, luckily so far only of the liquid variety, but he has also gone and ‘dropped the deuce’ as he often says, completely unassisted or unprompted by his parents, not including of course a little post deposit wiping. I’m not sure right now that potty training is easier than the hassle of diapers, but I’m sure in time the bouts of cleaning piss off the walls and floors and constant bathroom trips to watch a few little gold droplets fall will diminish and Landon will gain complete independence over his excretory system. I think I’ll start writing a pledge…

2007-06-29T11:36:00.000-07:00

IT’S TIME TO START THE MUSIC…

Every night Landon selects one of his DVDs to watch for a few minutes before he heads upstairs to slumber-land. Usually his selections are from his collection of Pixar movies, sometimes he chooses a Thomas the Tank Engine flick, and occasionally he’ll decide to inject a little education and watch his Letter Factory program from Leap Frog. Last night he requested the “silly green TVD” (his acronym for the TV and DVD synergy). I returned his request with a blank stare unsure of what he was referring to. He proceeded to open up the drawer in the cabinet and pull out our Season 1 Collection of the Muppet Show. I was stoked, and surprised, and completely unsure how he determined that the muppets were silly (which they undoubtedly are) since to the best of my knowledge he had never seen the show before.

I watched the Muppet Show as a kid and loved it. In high school I used to watch reruns whenever I could track them down on cable, some friends and I even held a search to try and find a girl who could hum the entire theme song. A few years ago when they released the first season on DVD I sent in a preorder. The muppets still take me to a place filled with happy memories.

So then it was with a little nervous trepidation that I loaded the muppet DVD into the player. I really wanted the boys to enjoy the fuzzy little creatures, but I was unsure how they would view these puppets compared to the impressive digital animation that they are accustomed to. A few scenes of Miss Piggy chasing Kermit around and tackling him with kisses that Landon didn’t completely understand started off the episode. Soon thereafter, Florence Henderson (that night’s guest host) and a gaggle of monsters belted out their rendition of the Turtles hit “So Happy Together”. Colt stood up from the floor and started dancing. Landon quickly followed suit, and giggles from both boys began to fill the room. It was awesome.

2007-06-26T15:17:00.000-07:00

NUMBER TWO

On Sunday night after we returned home from a brief trip to the Irvine Spectrum, Landon announced that he had to ‘go poop’. We dropped our bags, and gently set down Colt, and hurried Landon into the downstairs bathroom where he proceeded to strip off all of his clothes. I left the room to keep an eye on his little brother as Landon perched on his plastic throne. A few minutes later he emerged jumping up and down with a proud smile plastered across his face. I was then escorted by his beaming face into the bathroom where four rounds turds sat on the bottom of his training toilet. We exchanged numerous high fives. Landon proceeded to race around the house exclaiming his new accomplishment. We called his grandparents so he could share the news with them. Then Landon began to list all of the trains he wanted us to purchase for him now that he had accomplished such a monumentous feat. For the past several months, anytime he has seen a toy, most often a toy train that he wants, we have informed him that he has to go poop first and then we’ll get him the toy/train he desires. Apparently he has been keeping a fairly extensive mental list. True to our word, yesterday Landon received a new toy train. More importantly, Landon made another solid deposit in the plastic potty – this time he was sure to display his creation to Rhiannon’s friend Amber. And again today we were off to the toy store for another locomotive reward.

So as the potty training moves forward there are still several hurdles in the way. Landon has successfully been diagnosing when he needs to take a pee at least some of the time. Unfortunately most of his decries that he needs to use the toilet come after he has been tucked into bed. Last night Landon galloped out of his room every hour between eight and eleven calling for his Dad to help him go use the toilet. All four times he did actually fire his squirt gun which is good; it’s just a little hard to be too supportive when it comes at the cost of his sleep. In regards to his squirt gun, another reoccurring problem is that Landon hasn’t spent much time at the firing range so his aim is a little off. If he sits on his plastic seat, the wall across the room usually gets showered, and if he stands on the regular toilet seat while his Dad keeps him steady (Landon’s preferred technique) then the back of the toilet seat gets wet. Typically in this scenario once the stream starts to flow I will try to point Landon’s entire torso in the direction of the toilet bowl, hoping that at least a little urine find it’s target. And even though Landon has made some significant steps forward toward becoming potty trained, he still refuses to wear anything other than traditional diapers, no pull-ups or underwear of any kind are permitted. On Sunday we also went to the local swimming lagoon, and Landon would only wear his swimming diaper over a traditional diaper, then over the top of those he had to wear a rubber diaper and then his swim trunks – talk about dressing in layers.

Unrelated to his excretory successes, Landon has continued to develop a strong will, which I guess he probably inherited from his parents. His tantrums have become significantly prolonged at times, to the point that he often has trouble calming down. It creates a difficult situation for parents like us that are still learning the rules to this whole discipline/development game. As he bawls his eyes out in anger my first impulse is often a hurried embrace and a feeble attempt to distract his attention away from whatever is bothering him, rather than to address the problem at hand and parent accordingly. Sometimes the fact that he is a three-year old boy, who can’t always reason and make his own proper decisions gets lost in the ruckus and we both suffer. Last night when I returned from home from work I expected to find a joyous child playing with his new train and still beaming with poop pride, instead I found a boy still waking up from his nap who within 5 minutes deteriorated into a screaming anger spiral that he maintained for the next hour. I tried my standard bait and switch distraction technique with limited success – his whining persisted and intensified. We even attempted to take him to the local park with the hope that a little fresh air might quiet his nerves. Halfway to the park the tantrum continued to rage, and our frayed nerves decided that it was time for the hammer to drop, so against Landon’s now raised screams we dragged him back home and directed him to his room, where he would stay, alone, until he could calm down. Ten minutes later we checked the monitor in his room and he was quietly playing. Thirty minutes passed and he exited his room and told his Mom that he figured out why he was angry and offered unsolicited apologies to both of us. Needless to say we were surprised and very pleased. Needless to say this whole parenting thing remains a complete mystery.

Colt is still a goofy little boy, who stumbles along with a smirk. The past week he hasn’t really understood that his Mom isn’t able to pick him up after her surgery, so frustrated by here rebukes he has come to me for solace and a more elevated view. I’ve enjoyed the extra time we get to spend together, his determined finger pointing the way to whatever object will comprise our next adventure. Colt’s vocabulary still remains largely understood only by himself, although new words continue to be produced daily for the rest of his family to understand as well. The other day he waddled up to Dakota and swatted her nose while emphatically squealing ‘no!’ a routine I’m sure he learned from observation. Colt is a mimic of his brother, intently watching his actions and then doing his best impersonation. The boys continue to get along better all the time. It brings a smile to my face every time I hear them giggling together in the back seat. I don’t dare to imagine the ridiculous adventures the year’s ahead have in store for the two of them together.

So life continues to be good, although a little extra smelly presently. Plastic training toilets without any water have an insidious odor. Trust me.

2007-06-13T15:47:00.000-07:00

SUSHI, BANANAS AND FEATHERS

Wow, its already almost summer – time flies I think, whether you are having fun or not. The Buhr clan continues to do well, the boys are learning new skills and developing their identities, and Rhiannon hasn’t left me yet, so as far as I can report, all is well. Colt has left his crawling days behind him, and now exclusively walks from point A to point B, usually on stiff legs with unbent knees. A couple of weeks have slipped by – here are some recaps.

First, here’s a quick anecdote from last night. My Mom had watched the boys yesterday, and after Rhiannon and I returned home from work she generously offered to take us all out to dinner. When I asked Landon where he wanted to go he replied, completely unprompted – “sushi”, and said that he wanted some “edamame” as well. After I gave him a high five and a stoked smile of encouragement we packed some food for Colt who doesn’t seem to enjoy Japanese fare to much, and we headed to the restaurant. Upon arrival, we waited for my Mom in the plaza courtyard in front of the restaurant. The boys threw some stuff in the fountain until Colt realized that Ruby’s Diner was also located on the same courtyard. We frequent Ruby’s often, because it is very kid friendly, and has some pretty good burgers, not to mention the model trains that circle the restaurant ceiling. Colt began to waddle toward Ruby’s pointing and saying, “woo – woo, woo – woo”. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him so excited to go to a restaurant before. I was even more surprised that he remembered not only the exterior of the building, but that he was also able to associate that exterior with the trains that steamed around inside. We attempted to switch up our dinner plans to reward his enthusiasm, but Landon steadfastly repeated that he wanted sushi, so Colt had to pass on his train-enhanced dining experience for another time. Being the younger brother, with a very limited vocabulary definitely has its draw backs, hopefully he will forgive us.

Colt’s favorite food recently, as well as one of his favorite words is “banana”. His banana addiction has gotten so strong recently that it is impossible to carry him past our fruit basket without a demonstrative point and banana request. Well. As one might imagine, too many bananas is not necessarily a good thing for one’s digestive tract, and recently Colt’s production has been a little bit south of solid, so for the unforeseeable future he will be on sever banana rations.

Last week Landon had a pretty weird looking rash develop on his legs with a few patches spreading to his torso and under his arms. Although it didn’t appear to elicit any discomfort, he received a heavy dose of attention from his grandmother Sharp (Mimi) which eventually led him to the determination that the rash, in its entirety was the biggest owwie he had ever received. Since the rash persisted for a few days we took him to the pediatrician who diagnosed him with a viral infection and informed us that it would run its course within the next week. Landon was very excited to update us on the progress of his owwie as it slowly receded.

A few weekends back my Dad and I took the boys to the beach in La Jolla while Rhiannon and my Mom attended the triplets’ baby shower. We went to the same beach/tidepool area that we used to frequent when I was young. It was the first time I’d taken the boys there, and ended up being a nice trip down the good ol’ memory lane. The boys had fun looking for shells, and burying trains in the sand. Colt discovered that some of the sandstone rocks doubled as natural slides, so with hands raised and “weeeees” vocalized he slid around. My Dad found a large feather from what must have been a pelican and gave it to an excited Landon. On our way out I noticed a decaying bird carcass. My Dad swore that he did not collect the feather directly from the corpse, but to be honest I wasn’t entirely convinced - that being said, the feather is still somewhere in our house. Maybe the feather and the rash that developed the following week were related, I really don’t want to spend too much time thinking about that…

Last weekend I went fly fishing up in mammoth with some friends. The fishing, surroundings and company were all stellar. Numerous times I reflected how excited I am to get Landon and Colt up to the mountains for some laughs shared beneath mountains. Hopefully sometime in the month’s ahead I will at least get Landon out for his first camping experience. I doubt we’ll go far, but just a chance to sleep in a tent and sit by a campfire seems like a legitimate place to start his introduction to the nature that exists outside of the fences that surround our backyard.

Summer is just around the corner. Rhiannon will be done with work after this week and here and the boys can begin their adventures in the sun. This Friday will also be Landon’s last day of going to Stacey’s house for day care; we are keeping our fingers crossed that he will be ready for pre-school this fall. Hopefully this summer’s adventures include some successful trips to the toilet as well. We have planned a family trip to Maui in August which should be great. I hope to teach Landon how to swim before we leave, but since I’ve never tried this before, I am not too confident about how things will go. Right now Landon screams in the bath when he gets water in his eyes, which is probably not a positive sign.

2007-05-22T15:29:00.000-07:00

I HEAR FOOTSTEPS…

Well as predicted in the previous entry, Colt took his first, shaky steps on last Thursday, May 17th. With locked knees and outward pointed feet, he wobbled his way from the train table in Landon’s room to his dad’s waiting knee. And he smiled. Rhiannon and I looked to each other and followed with a quick round of applause. Landon looked up from the table to see what the commotion was about, and when we informed him of his brother’s accomplishment he replied, “Yeeeaaaahhh Colton.” Over the past few days Colt has repeated this feat a few times, but no walking event has lasted more than a few footsteps in succession. When the need to locomote with a modicum of speed arises, he drops back to all fours and scurries across the floor.

We stayed last Saturday night at my parent’s house. The boys spent the majority of their time exploring the back yard hunting for rolly-pollies and lady bugs, collecting sticks and pushing the bubble lawnmower across the lawn. They both appear to really enjoy being outside, a fact whose significance is not lost on their father. I look forward to the years ahead, exploring canyons and creeks in search of critters and other unexpected treasures. On Saturday afternoon we also visited the Wild Animal Park, another great experience with my sons, sharing something that was such a fun and formative memory from my childhood. We hiked over a good portion of the park (in the heat, pushing a double stroller), some of the boys favorite animals included the lions, gorillas, a leopard tortoise, and a nest of baby pelicans. Colt also enjoyed the downhill portion of the hike, exclaiming, “Weeeee!” throughout much of our descent.

Last weekend I fished Lake Barrett with some old coworkers from Hubbs. We had a great time catching decent numbers of bass and bluegill; it was similar to experiences we shared in the past. I definitely miss the friendships I formed at Hubbs, we also spent a good deal of time catching up on the current state of HSWRI, which also reminded me of the many reasons that I am still confident in my decision to move forward with my career. This weekend the fishing adventures are scheduled to continue as plans are being circulated to start the season of catfishing at the local pond - should be a good night.

2007-05-17T14:43:00.000-07:00

IT’S BEEN AWHILE

Well my most diligent attempts at keeping this journal updated and recent have once again fallen flat. Nothing ground breaking has happened over the last month – which is good, but little events that I want to hold onto happen daily, and regretfully slip through my swiss cheese memory and out of my head. So here’s a few rambling paragraphs about my boys…

Landon and Colt became cousins for the first time last Tuesday, May 8th. After seven long months, the last two of which were spent in the hospital, Andrea finally gave birth, via C-section to her triplets that Rena and I affectionately refer to as the “Trio”. Caden weighed in at 4 lbs, and his identical twin sisters Regan and Riley weighed in at just over three lbs each. Considering the fact that they were seven weeks early they are doing exceptionally well. Rhiannon and I spent the day at the hospital when they arrived for moral support. We got to meet our new nieces and nephew briefly – they are very small and skinny as one might expect, but looked like regular, cute, little, future rugrats albeit in a more miniature package. The family went down to spend Mother’s Day in San Diego with Andrea and her brood and we got to visit the new additions again. Landon wanted desperately to see the babies, unfortunately hospital policy restricted any person younger than 10 years old from the NICU so he won’t get to meet his cousins until they come home from the hospital sometime next month. He struggled understanding this age restriction, luckily Colt had just filled up his diaper, and when I explained to Landon that we couldn’t go into the hospital with a poopy diaper, he seemed to grasp that line of reasoning much better.

As mentioned, last Sunday was Mother’s Day, so the boys and I did our best to make Rena feel at least fractionally as special as we know she is. Rena is our family’s glue, heartbeat and soul, she keeps us grounded and focused, while still allowing our heads to peek through the clouds on occasion. I honestly can’t imagine raising a family with anyone else. The boys are so lucky to have her in their lives, as I am as well. Since we knew we were journeying to San Diego the following morning we had a quiet dinner in the backyard on Saturday and actually sat down as a family for the evening, a rare event with two young boys. One of the presents Rena received was a framed pair of the boy’s footprints that we painted the week before. Getting Colt to paint his foot and then leave an impression on some paper was easy, however Landon refused to cooperate, and only after severe bribery was he willing to comply. Thank God for gummy bears.

As he grows older, Landon’s manipulation skills continue to improve – luckily he can be bought. Recently Landon was getting out of his bed several times a night, with random, often irrelevant excuses. Now as a part of his night-time, tuck-in ritual, we inform him that if he takes a big nap and doesn’t get out of his bed he will be rewarded with one whole gummy bear in the morning, we even let him pick the color. Much to our amazement, Landon hasn’t got out of bed once in the last two weeks (knock on wood).

That being said, the more complex issue we are facing at the house with Landon is potty training. Although a few sporadic and unrelated deposits, both liquid and solid, have been made in the plastic potty (which sucks to clean by the way), no consistent progress has been made. It’s been over two weeks since the plastic potty has collected anything but dust. We again have tried to bribe Landon to encourage his potty training but to no avail. We have upped the ante considerably basically telling him that if he uses the potty for five consecutive days he can go out and purchase any toy train he might desire. He has repeatedly shown us all of the different trains he wants, even selecting trains for his uncles and grandparents to purchase for him once he graduates from diapers (I’m not sure they are aware of their involvement), but when we ask him if he’s ready to start earning those toys, his reply is a matter of fact, “No…not yet.” The pressure here is that at the end of summer Landon hopefully will be attending pre-school, only one of the prerequisites for his enrollment is that he must be potty trained, it could be an interesting couple of months in the bathroom. Stay tuned.

Colt still refuses to take his first steps, although by all accounts he is more than ready. He rolls throughout the house using various walkers, proclaiming, “Go, go, go, go….” until his progress is halted by a wall or other obstacle. He scoots around the furniture and the walls often only holding on with one hand. He will stand, unaided in the middle of a room for close to a minute before he decides to crawl away to check something out. But as of yet, no actual steps have been witnessed. Landon began walking at fifteen months, and I refused any bipedal locomotion until I was twenty-two months; Colt is currently fourteen months old, so we may have a few more months before we hear the pitter-patter of his footsteps across our hardwood floors.

Colt’s vocabulary is beginning to increase. He has added several new words to his previous repertoire of mama and dada, including uh-oh (his favorite), go, Landon, fishy, Dakota and see-see. He often combines a word or two with hand gestures to communicate his intentions. For example, the other night we were standing by the bath tub watching it fill up with water. He began to pull on his shirt and then point to the water and say, “See-see?” after I removed his clothes and plopped him in the tub he beamed with accomplishment that I had understood what he wanted. Colt’s incoherent babbling is constant, and I imagine he generates a good deal of frustration when we fail to comprehend what, “gigglee googlee ga ga dibble dibble” means.

Our boys have very different eating habits. Colt is a chow hound, He gets noticeably excited upon placement in his high chair and will slowly grind away on just about any edible material placed in front of him for a good deal of time, sometimes I wonder if he will ever fill up. He has begun to put on a few pounds recently, I’m curious to see where he weighs in at his doctor’s appointment next month. Landon on the other hand rarely eats three meals a day, and often only eats one large meal complimented by small snacks throughout the day. He is insanely picky at times, and has definitely inherited his mother’s sweet tooth. Again the bribery of potential dessert often is the only way we can get him to eat his more nutritious food selections, I am beginning to think that this is how the post-dinner dessert historically evolved. For all of his lack of eating though, Landon continues to grow and is becoming more of a boy and less of a toddler with each passing day.

No other big events to report currently - jobs, home and family all are doing well. Hopefully I’ll be back within a week with a timelier update.

2007-04-12T15:03:00.000-07:00

NIGHT-TIME STORIES

The other night, as I was tucking Landon in to his bed, he looked up at me, and with a slight smile and asked, “Who is Solman? Are you Solman?” He looked very interested in the answer. I unfortunately responded with little more than a puzzled stare. I asked him to repeat his question, and again the reference came out “Solman”. I wasn’t sure if his enunciation was leading to the misunderstanding, or if it was simply a new word he had created, but Landon seemed very sure that I should know who/what Solman was. Unable to answer his question, I told him he was a silly little boy, kissed his forehead and wished him a good night.

My parents reported that Landon had asked them a similar question last weekend when they were putting him to bed. And while he hasn’t asked about Solman again, the interaction has left me perplexed and the origin of Solman has entered my thoughts frequently. I think my overactive imagination coupled with too many creepy books and horror movies may be partly to blame. Regardless of the source, one recurring source of the unknown name is from some entity that is only visible to my three year old son. Now while I don’t actually believe this, it seems a very entertaining premise for a science fiction tale, maybe somewhere along the lines of the Sixth Sense. Currently the mystery continues….

Within the last week, Landon has also developed the regrettable behavior of exiting his room at night when he can’t sleep. Rhiannon and I had heard stories of other children doing this, and always prided ourselves on how well our sons went to bed at night. But alas those days now appear to be over. The past few nights Landon has left his room numerous times, with excuses ranging from being thirsty, to needing a diaper change, to not being able to sleep, one time he even emerged after completely stripping off his pajamas. Every time he exits his room, we can hear his small footsteps thundering down the hall upstairs, shortly followed by a cry for his Mom or Dad. A few of these events have happened in the wee hours of the morning, at which time he requests to sleep in our room, a request that we usually fulfill being too tired at the time to argue. He then gets in bed with us and no one is able to fall back asleep, which makes for a pretty crabby family. So far (knock on wood) Colt has been able to sleep through these late night interactions. Hopefully this behavior doesn’t persist, and hopefully it’s not related to the aforementioned Solman.

2007-04-06T14:44:00.000-07:00

LUCKY

A number of recent events have been cause for some self evaluation and introspection. After some pondering I have come to the conclusion that in general I am in fact a pretty lucky/privileged guy. To that extent I would say that most of the people I know fit into this category as well, making me all the luckier by association. Some might argue that what I consider luckiness is actually the result of hard work and planning, which I agree to some extent is probably true, but along the path fortune has definitely smiled. I have a terrific companion for a wife, two amazing kids, and family and friends that truly enrich my life. I have my health, although the stack of days on my calendar is reaching new elevations. I enjoy my career and feel the work I do actually makes a difference. I live in a beautiful section of the country/world. I eat three meals a day, and although I would enjoy seeing an extra digit before the decimal on my paycheck, my bed is always warm and soft at night.

I don’t have one significant event to post about, but it’s been a little while, so following are some recent events and incidents, some of which even made me feel lucky.

************************************************************************************

Landon got his first black eye a few days ago. I told him to stop yelling but when he wouldn’t well I just reared back and……of course I’m kidding. Actually Landon was playing on the stairs in our house with a bouncy-ball (another example of my extraordinary parenting skills) when he slipped while trying to run up the stairs after the ball. His face came crashing down and caught the edge of a stair, just outside his right eye. He bled for a little while, and screamed for even a little while longer, but when the tears and pain subsided he seemed pretty impressed with his quickly developing bruise. Hopefully he can come away from the experience with a little well earned trepidation when ascending and descending the stairs, but more realistically he will find another fun game to involve the stairway once his wound has healed.

Every time Landon crashes and comes up in pain he asks me to make his “owwies” go away. We then engage in a fairly effective ritual where I investigate his source of discomfort and then proceed to pluck off the offending “owwies” one by one, until I have them held tightly in my clenched fist. We then race to the nearest bathroom as quickly as possible so that no “owwies” can escape, lift the lid, and flush them away into the recesses of the local sewer system. At this point Landon usually has forgotten what had caused his tears to develop in the first place.

************************************************************************************

The last few weekends have included trips to San Diego to visit Rhiannon’s sister, Andrea in the hospital. Andrea has been pregnant with triplets since last fall as a result of an in-vitro procedure where two embryos were implanted and one then split resulting in three developing fetuses within her uterus. Good times. Well at least until about six weeks ago when she began to develop complications with the pregnancy. She had an emergency procedure to save the babies at the beginning of March, and since that time she has been restricted to complete bed rest at the hospital while hooked up to a number of beeping and flashing machines. Every third day she is permitted to stand up for ten minutes to take a brief shower, she is also permitted to stand to use the restroom, other than that she is confined to the horizontal.

Considering her situation, Andrea’s spirits seem high. The babies’ due date is late June, however if Andrea is able to hold onto them until early May he pregnancy will be deemed a success.

We’ve taken the boys with us a few times to visit their “auntie Andrea” at the hospital. Landon really enjoys the elevator ride to the seventh floor, but seems a little unsure of Andrea’s inflated belly. He understands (I think) that he has three future cousins in there, I just think he wants to wait until they are out in the fresh air before he interacts with them. Colt has a good time as long as he is able to crawl around and we make food available. I’m not sure if it helps Andrea or not to interact with our little munchkins at this point. I’m sure their little laughs give the light at the end of the tunnel a little extra illumination, but at the same time I’m sure she also feels upset that she is being put through this extraordinary experience on her travels to parenthood.

************************************************************************************

Colt evolves into more and more of a daredevil on a daily basis. He rarely shows any fear – of anything. He stands up in his high chair and on his stroller. He crawls up on the foam chair in his room and allows himself to tumble off, head first, with a giggle, and then proceeds in climbing back up the chair to repeat the process. He tries to climb up the playground slide, which again results in a giggling crash. Each day he becomes more agile, and each increase in control results in a new daring feat to accomplish. I can’t imagine the trouble he will get into once he starts walking. I think he may need a helmet.

Colt has also begun to confront his older and bigger brother. Previously when Landon and Colt squabbled over a toy, the conflict usually resolved itself with Landon walking away with the disputed item in hand and Colt with a dumbfounded stare. More recently contentious interactions between the boys, whether over a toy, or the preferred spot in the tub, include Colt standing up to Landon, often amidst a few angry screams and pounding hands. Landon will sometimes be caught off guard and be the one displaying the dumbfounded stare. Eventually size still prevails, and Landon leaves with the prize, but Colt is definitely becoming more aware of his own person and a need to defend himself.

************************************************************************************

A few weeks back I zoomed up to Mammoth Lakes for the weekend with some friends. Initially the trip had included Rhiannon, and my parents were going to watch the boys, but with the complications that developed with Andrea, Rhiannon made the adult decision to stay behind in Orange County while I snuck away for a fun weekend in the Sierras.

One day was spent riding the slopes at Mammoth on some early season spring snow conditions. It was only the second day I’ve spent on the snowboard this winter, and I really enjoyed myself. We rode all day from start to finish except for a brief lunch break, and finished the day over margaritas and laughs at the local Roberto’s.

The next morning while everyone else returned to the slopes, Justin and I headed over to Bridgeport to spend the day floating flies on the East Walker River. Being early in the season we didn’t have high expectations but we ended up hooking a number of fish. I even brought a few to the surface to chase dry flies including one 18 inch brown trout that was the biggest fish I’ve ever caught in the Eastern Sierras. It was great spending the day with my brother, I hope that my sons can develop a friendship like the one Justin and I share.

Hopefully later this year we will be able to bring Colt up to Mammoth for his first visit to one of my favorite places in the world. It might even be time for Landon to catch his first trout.

************************************************************************************

Last Saturday we participated in a local Spring Celebration/Easter Egg Hunt for the kids of Rancho Santa Margarita. Our neighbors who also have two young boys invited us along, and not really knowing what to expect we decided to join them. Conservatively I would estimate that there were over 1000 children participating. The event was crazy - it included a petting zoo, several bounce houses, games and crafts. The egg hunt was broken into different age groups to level the competitive field. Colt was content with crawling over and picking up one egg, Landon refused to gather any eggs unless his dad held his Easter bag, after which he began dropping four eggs at a time into his stash. After a few hours in the sun we were tired, but instead of heading home we continued on with the second part of our plans and drove down to beach at Laguna.

We had planned to meet with Margie and Jon and their new son Riley, but received a call as we were parking the car that they were running over an hour behind. We still cruised down to the beach, and the boys delighted in the sand, looking for shells, burying trains, and just crawling all over the rocks. Colt probably ingested over a pound of sand. Both boys were covered in sand – they were stripped completely to diapers before entering the car for the ride home. I don’t think Colt lasted 30 seconds in the car before he passed out. Rhiannon and I were also wiped out after several hours in the sun chasing around our maniacal sons. Landon was tired, but before he drifted off to sleep in his car seat we asked him if he had a fun day. He responded that, “we had a very fun day together as a family, and that he would have been sad if we all couldn’t come”. It was said so innocently and sincerely that it immediately erased any hardships we faced that day. Children are definitely worth the gray hairs they inevitably produce.

2007-03-15T14:41:00.000-07:00

WE LIKE TO PARTY

This weekend marked the final Buhr birthday in the past three weeks, and also resulted in the culmination of our birthday celebrations with a large party to celebrate both Landon’s third birthday, and Colt’s first year on the planet. So finally we may get a chance to catch our breath and not be inundated with thoughts of what details need to be amended for the latest party plan, but before we start looking ahead I’ll take a few minutes to recap the past weekend’s celebration.

Invitations were distributed weeks in advance to family and friends inviting them “buzz on over” to our house for a bug themed party on Saturday, March 10th. Rhiannon as always had every detail meticulously planned so that each aspect of the party would reflect the insect theme for the event. We had a bounce house in the driveway adorned with a large banner displaying the characters from Disney’s, Bug’s Life. Tablecloths were held in place with centerpieces comprised of large glass jars filled with plastic bugs, there were bug balloons, and bug filled goody bags, and even fluorescent rubber bugs scattered throughout the yard for a bug hunt. I think Rhiannon stopped just short from serving chocolate covered grasshoppers.

Start time for the party was set at 11:00am and it was scheduled to last until at least 2:00pm. Our day, of course, began much earlier. The boys seemed to sense that a celebration was in the air, because they awoke with the sun, and by 6:30 the entire family was up and moving. Rhiannon and Colt ducked out to pick up some last minute supplies, while Landon and I scurried about the yard, setting up tables and chairs and removing the uninvited dog poop. Both boys were bathed, and dressed in shirts with little bugs crawling all over their sleeves. I slipped out to pick up balloons and made a failed attempt to get the dog enrolled in a grooming appointment/babysitting situation. By 10:30 my parents had arrived with some supplies and we were off and running.

People began to trickle in shortly after eleven, and by noon most of the attendees had arrived. Their was a definite dichotomy between the arrival times of those guests that had kids, and those friends that have yet to take any steps into the world of parenthood. Once everyone showed up our final guest tally crested at 25 adults and 10 youngsters ranging in age from 4 months to 4 years, and our oldest guest was the boy’s great grandfather Alonzo who is in his early 80’s. The party was moving along smoothly, the bounce house was bouncing, conversations were flowing, appetizers and drinks were consumed, the only thing missing was the pizza…

One of the few responsibilities I had in preparation for the party as to schedule the pizza order and delivery. The night before I had ordered six large pizzas from the local pizza joint to be delivered at 11:45am the next morning. Everything seemed clear, the kid taking my order even joked about how busy the guys in the kitchen were going to be the following morning. The next morning I called to confirm the order and leave a credit card number, again all seemed well. At noon when the pizzas hadn’t arrived I called, and was told that they were in route. At 12:30pm I called again to inquire about the location of our delinquent food, by this time stomachs were audibly rumbling and I had received more than one disapproving looks from my wife. When the kid on the phone asked me to hold while he tracked down his general manager I knew things weren’t good. I was informed by the apologetic supervisor, that the clown that had taken my order the night before had scheduled it for an 11:45pm delivery. I asked the manager how often they get large orders or pizzas, the night before, to be delivered close to midnight?! He had no reply, only stammering that the pizzas would be there as quickly as possible, and discounting the order by fifty percent. Ugh. Luckily we had a large amount of appetizers on hand, or my guess is that a mutiny via toddler would have been afoot.

After appetites were finally satiated, it was time for desert and a birthday song. Rhiannon brought out the gummy worm topped cupcakes and Landon and Colt were treated to their birthday serenade. A mess ensued, as Colt enjoyed his first birthday cupcake, by appropriately smearing chocolate all over his face, hands and hair. An expected sugar rush followed and quickly spread through the entire juvenile crowd. For a short while kids were scampering around, giggling on their glucose induced high, but shortly thereafter, the impending sugar crash arrived and that combined with a day spent in the hot sun resulted in all of the younger attendees heading for a car ride home to nap. The day flew by – it was already after 2:00pm.

Some of our San Diego friends without children lingered through the afternoon and many laughs were shared. A few presents were opened much to the delight of the birthday honorees. That evening my parents generously offered to tuck Landon and Colt in bed, while Rhiannon and I joined our friends for a dinner with friends at the local Mexican eatery – without any kids – a very rare and much appreciated treat and an excellent way to end such an important day. It was an eventful dinner, and one that I’m sure will be remembered.

*************************************************************************************

Since this post is about Colt’s party, and since his actual first birthday was last Sunday, March 11th, it seems like an appropriate time to give a brief update on the little guy’s development.

Colt just had his one-year old doctor’s appointment this Tuesday, and he came away with a well deserved stamp of approval. He is still a little small for his age at just around the 25th percentile in both height and weight. I am a little concerned about his growth, traditionally Colt has existed more in the 50th percentile range, but in December he had a pretty wicked stomach flu which seemed to affect his growth a little just before his nine month check up with Dr. Mackey. At that time Dr. Mackey suggested that if Colt hadn’t reached 20 pounds in weight by January he might be concerned, and at his weigh-in this week he still is only slightly over 20 pounds in weight. We were unable to schedule an appointment with Dr. Mackey this time around, and the substitute doctor did not seem alarmed at Colt’s decreased growth rate. Colt eats more food than his older brother on most occasions, so I’m not really concerned about his intake, and his output doesn’t seem extraordinary either. The doctor also suggested that we wean Colt off the formula and bottle and transition to a sippy-cup with milk as soon as possible and also gave us some daily vitamins to supplement his diet.

Colt has become more and more active in the past weeks; he is a highly motivated crawler and pulls himself up to his feet whenever the opportunity presents itself. He has begun to climb up chairs and stairs, the only problem with this evolution of skills is that he has yet to figure out how to get down safely, assuming that gravity will gently float his chucky frame back to earth. Basically this translates into one of his parents needing to closely monitor his movements constantly. We even had to take the bumper off of the crib because Colt was trying to use this as a step to get out of his naptime confinement. The car seats in the car both face forward now, so Colt also gets a new view as his mom hurdles down the freeways with her foot firmly placed on the gas pedal.

A constant stream of babble continues to drip from Colt’s lips. Most of the language is still indiscernible, but he has started to incorporate some new words, most recently “go”. He certainly seems to understand what he is enunciating and most of the time seems a little confused that his parents don’t comprehend as well. Landon often participates in an exchange of babble with Colt, much to his giggling little brother’s approval.

The hair on Colt’s head remains a straw-colored shade of blonde, and doesn’t hold any of the curls and waves of his older brother’s quaff. He still only has four chompers in his smile, but he is still drooling profusely so the next round of teeth should be showing up any day. His eyes are a deep shade of blue and his skin is very fair and appears a little susceptible to irritation from various sources including grass and changes in laundry detergent. He’s an adorable little kid in my moderately biased opinion.

Colt still has his bedtime buddy, Raffi the giraffe, and ahs recently taken to placing Raffi on his head as he crawls around the house or sits in his seat in the car. I’m not sure if he learned this from Landon or from some of the silly games he plays with his Dad. My guess is that his continued idol worship of his older brother may have caused this behavior development.

There is a brief description of Colton Luke on the one year anniversary of his birth. He is an amazing son and a delightful friend that I am hopelessly in love with. Fatherhood to both of my boys has been an incredible experience.

2007-02-26T15:05:00.000-08:00

ANOTHER BIRTHDAY

Sandwiched exactly eleven days between Landon and Colt’s respective birthdays rests another Buhr family birthday, which thankfully doesn’t garner nearly as much attention as the previous mentioned days. On February 28th I will be celebrating my thirty-second year on the planet. It’s been a very eventful year as described here previously, I would definitely rank it among one of the best years of my life, so I really don’t have anything to complain about for once. That being said, I do feel older, which I’m sure is from an accumulation of the years and the responsibilities I’ve added along the way. I have a few gray hairs, and often go to bed well before eleven pm, but I don’t feel like I’ve slowed to the point where I notice it during my rare bouts of physical exertion enjoyed in the ocean, along a trout stream, or sliding down some snow.

This past weekend both my parents and in-laws were gracious enough to take me out for a celebratory dinner on Saturday and Sunday nights. One night we ventured out for sushi, although regrettably Landon didn’t venture to taste the food this time, and the other evening was enjoyed over Chinese fare. Both meals were enjoyable, although neither night were the boys on their best behavior. Colt was noticeably fussy as he is still rebounding from a stomach flu he suffered through early in the week, and Landon was his rebellious three year old self, intermixing periods of excellent behavior with bouts of time spent standing next to or hiding under the table, refusing to remain seated like a “big boy”. Regardless it was nice to get out and the parents were all once again more than generous.

My gifts this year have included a small fourteen gallon aquarium that I plan to establish as a home to a small saltwater reef set up, as well as some funds to support all of the other gear required to get started in this hobby. It’s been over fifteen years since I maintained a saltwater aquarium at home, so I am expectedly excited about the endeavor. Technology has come a long way in the past two decades (again did I mention that I am getting old), so it will be fun to tinker with some of the latest innovations. I am also looking forward to the opportunity to use the tank as a launching pad to involve the boys with marine biology while still within the confines of home. It should be a fun experience, I will be shocked if Landon doesn’t request at least one “Nemo” representative in the tank, but it should also be a cool venue to introduce him to crabs and shrimp and corals among other marine fauna. I promised Rhiannon that I would hold off setting up the tank until after the big birthday bash scheduled for March 10th, so until then I will have to sit on my hands and wait.

Colt has been spending significantly more time standing while investigating things recently although he still requires at least one hand firmly planted on an object for support, he is becoming more courageous with a few small steps, and I anticipate he will take his first unaided steps before much longer. Colt has also increased his mimicry skills to include an adorable growl, as well as a woof-woof and a meow. All of these bursts of noise are immediately followed by a giggle and a grin. Only two weeks until his first birthday when aside from surviving his first year on the planet, some of his more obscure milestones will also be regaled, including turning his car seat to face forward, and switching over from formula to whole milk. Both of these smaller accomplishments are anxiously anticipated by his parents.

Since turning three, Landon has become a courageous climber, leaving behind the timid toddler of his past, and instead developing into some sort of monkey/mountain goat/boy hybrid. This past weekend at the park he ascended several climbing walls without any assistance, a feat that I had never even see him attempt let alone accomplish. He now gleefully also climbs into his high chairs and strollers without any parental assistance, and loves to squeal, “Look at me!” when he reaches some new height to claim as a perch. So far I have yet to witness a dramatic fall, but when (not if) that happens, I will be curious to se how his bravery rebounds. Landon is still sporting an ever-increasing curly mane atop his head, which is very endearing but also is evolving more and more into some sort of afro jungle. Either a trip to the barber shop or to his dad’s clippers sits in the eminent future.

So, in general, as my last days as a 31-year old fade away, I am pleased with where my life is right now. I have a tremendous wife, two healthy, happy children, a wonderful group of family and friends, a respectable job and house that feels more like a home every day. Things are almost too good, and I must admit that I find myself looking over my shoulder periodically, hoping not to catch a glimpse of the boogeyman sneaking up behind me.

2007-02-21T14:10:00.000-08:00

FEBRUARY 17TH, 2007 – CELEBRATING 3 YEARS OF LANDON!

Well, as the above title suggests, this past Saturday was Landon’s third birthday. The past three years have seen our son develop from a writhing pink lump, to a bumbling toddler, to the dynamic little boy he is today. I’d like to think that during that same period Rhiannon and I have developed as parents as well, but more often than not I still feel like I could use some training wheels for the ride.

We started last Saturday morning as we do every Saturday; after Landon awoke he joined me and Rhiannon in our room to watch the weekly episode of Thomas the Tank Engine on public television. This ritual is always a treat for Landon as he gets to snuggle into our still warm bed and order where pillows get placed, and who gets to sit where. Colton usually attempts to participate in these viewing parties but often loses interest quickly and decides to investigate what might happen if he crawled right off the edge of the bed – so far I’ve only had to catch him once.

After the show we trudged over to the local breakfast joint, Cinnamon Productions, for some anticipated birthday breakfast, complete with chocolate muffins, cinnamon rolls, cantaloupe and bacon. We gave Colt his first slice of melon, soon after which Landon proceeded to mimic Colt’s attempts to eat the rind side of the slice all amidst giggles from all parties at the table. After breakfast Colt went down for his morning nap, and we informed Landon that as soon as his brother woke up we would be heading down to the train station for a birthday trip on the local Pacific Surfliner route. He smiled in anticipation.

Rhiannon and I decided that we would celebrate the day together as a family, rather than having a full fledged party filled with family and friends. In a few short weeks Colt will be turning one, a truly immeasurable cause for celebration, the significance of surviving that first year on the planet seems particularly to warrant celebration both for the child and parents alike. But since we also didn’t want the impending festivities to overshadow or minimize Landon’s birthday, it was agreed that the party in March would be thrown for both Colt and Landon, although in reality Colt will get top billing on that incredible day. Rhiannon and Landon have been planning a bug-themed party for the event complete with a bounce house, and insect inspired activities – Landon is very excited. The original plan was to host the party at the local park located just across the street, however a phone call on Saturday informed us that the park had already been reserved for that weekend, so the party’s locale would need to be rescheduled for our house. I was amazed at Rhiannon’s resilience after receiving this unsuspected news, in a few seconds of conversation, an afternoon with family and friends at the park had transformed to over 40 people invading our small home, a daunting proposition, but one that Rhiannon took completely in stride.

An hour later Colt was awake, and we zipped out of the house and headed to our next destination, the Irvine train station. Throughout our drive there, Landon peppered us with questions about the train and the tracks and the station. He squealed from the backseat when he saw the train tracks upon our approach. We arrived at the train station only a few minutes before departure so Landon and I rushed inside to by tickets while Rhiannon and Colt got the prerequisite gear out of the car. Upon reaching the front of the line we blurted out our plans and destination only to hear the man behind the counter reply in a demeaning, monotone response that the trains were shut down this weekend for track repairs. Landon’s face dropped in recognition, and the lack of compassion from the ticket seller made me incensed. They had no information on the Amtrak website of this planned closure, and no signs in the station advertised this situation either, so his gruff rebuke seemed a little inappropriate. I guess I have matured a little as a parent, because if I hadn’t been holding Landon at that moment this jerk store would have gotten more than an earful. Instead I turned to console Landon and to try to salvage the day with a back up plan.

It was a beautiful day, with winter temperatures registering in the low to mid 80’s, so we concluded that a trip to the grand Pacific Ocean would be a sufficient venue to continue our celebration. We headed down to Laguna Beach and grabbed a quick lunch at a great local taco stand. Landon was not impressed with the bikini clad patrons there that began flirting with him when they found out that it was his birthday. Instead, Landon could see, the ocean and smell the ocean and wanted nothing more than to feel the sand as soon as possible. We obliged his wishes and headed down to a surprisingly crowded beach for a winter weekend afternoon. There was an outgoing low tide, so Landon and I spent some time exploring the tidepools while Rhiannon and Colt remained behind on the blanket, where Colt proceed to try and fit as many grains of sand as possible into his drooling mouth. Landon jumped over pools and pointed out the anemones and mussels and even found a shore crab. As I mentioned it was an unseasonably hot afternoon and since this wasn’t our original destination we were all overdressed and unprepared without sunscreen, so our trip was cut short by our impending heat exhaustion. We drove home with sand between our toes and smiles on our faces.

The boys settled down for their afternoon naps and Rhiannon and I got some much needed rest as well. Upon waking up, Landon and I spent some time on his train table constructing a new track design that would incorporate the waterfall tunnel he received for his birthday. Later we headed out for some birthday pizza at Selma’s and then came home to bake birthday cupcakes. Landon assisted in everything from cracking the eggs to stirring the batter, to making an immense mess. He blew out his three candles and inhaled a cupcake before going to bed.

It was a memorable day not only because we were celebrating the birth of our first son and our entry into parenthood, but also because we spent the entire day together, without any outside distractions, as a family – that alone can account for a remarkable day.

2007-02-15T08:57:00.000-08:00

2006 – THROUGH THE EYES OF LANDON WYATT

In the following entry I hope to summarize some of the more prominent events in 2006 for Landon. The year marked his evolution from toddler to little boy, a striking transformation that was somewhat unexpected, it also marked his entry into the forays of brotherhood thanks to the addition of his young sibling.

By far the biggest change for Landon in 2006 came on March 11th, when his little brother Colt came screaming into this world. The idyllic tranquility he had become accustomed to, a world where he only had to fight for his parent’s attention with the family dog, now lay shattered beneath a crib with its new inhabitant. Initially Landon seemed very interested in Colt, but asked us on more than one occasion after we returned as a newly expanded family unit from the hospital, when we could, “take him out of here?” - here of course referenced our home. After awhile he adjusted to splitting time with his new brother, and would ask to hold the little pink blob, occasionally attempting to shove a bottle in Colt’s mouth as well. He also briefly attempted to become a baby again himself, often borrowing a pacifier and chewing on it as he played around the house.

More recently, as Colt began to develop, and became able to interact, play and locomote the boy’s relationship has deepened. Landon always wants Colt around, although that doesn’t necessarily translate into him wanting Colt to play with his toys, rather, he just wants Colt to, “come see what Landon’s doing”. Most of the time Colt can be distracted to enjoy another toy in the room, but when he does become overly interested in what Landon is playing with, inevitable conflicts do arise. These conflicts are usually resolved by Landon gently pushing or shielding Colt out of the way. That being said, he never asks Colt to leave the room, and becomes genuinely concerned when Colt isn’t around. One afternoon I took Colt to the store with me while Landon was sleeping – when he awoke to find his brother had disappeared - he threw a fit. Landon always reminds Colt to “be careful” and enjoys singing to him in the car, and making him erupt into giggles via a game of peek-a-boo.

A year ago, Landon was still a chubby toddler, whose attempts at running often ended with a face first crash to the ground, and whose favorite word was “why?”, and who still took two long naps a day. Those days regrettably are long gone. Although at the time they seemed to be difficult, I now find myself missing the limitless devotion present in a toddler’s embrace. Today, Landon is a thin, coordinated little boy, complete with his own ideas and personality. He has a head of thick, crazy, light brown hair that sits atop a pair of fiery blue eyes, both of which he inherited from his dad. At one point this past summer, Landon’s hair was getting so out of sorts that we bribed him with a popsicle to sit still long enough so that we could buzz it all off. That was over six months ago now, and he hasn’t received another haircut since, so the curly mop is back in full effect. Landon enjoys running around playing tag, all the while explaining to us that, “he is fast now because he is big.” He takes only one nap in the afternoon, and if he had his choice in the matter he wouldn’t slow down at all – ever. Although still full of questions, Landon’s queries now are more elaborate and relevant questions than the monosyllabic inquiries he used to pepper his parents with daily. And more significant is the fact that Landon can entertain full conversations about a number of things complete with thought, analysis, and integration of his own opinions. His opinions however are also very strong, and can at times devolve quickly into tantrums complete with screams and flailing appendages.

My relationship with Landon has also changed as he has become more independent. The clingy idolatry of an infant or toddler has become replaced by a level of respect and friendship that I hadn’t expected to find in a relationship with someone so young. The experiences I share with him are invaluable – I am overwhelmed with how rewarding fatherhood is everyday.

Landon still drags his little orange friend Gully around with him. Gully is a small orange rabbit-shaped blanket that he has held since he was only a few months old. Actually the original Gully was blue, but he was lost and has since been replaced by an orange Gully which has since been replaced by another two orange Gully’s. Rhiannon and both of Landon’s grandmother’s have been responsible for losing a Gully while on their watch, thankfully, I have yet to join this somewhat embarrassing club. Landon shows Gully the dogs at the pet store and the cars on the freeway, and shares many an adventure with him.

Rhiannon has done an incredible job teaching Landon. With the help of an advent calendar, Landon was counting to twenty by Christmas, and thanks to an assist from the Letter Factory, if you catch Landon on the right day he can point out the letters and tell you what sound they make. He sings with his mom, including the alphabet song, and has learned about manners and rules and a number of other important lessons. I on the other hand, get the fun of passing along my love of biology to my oldest son. Over the past year we have taken numerous trips to the local zoos and aquariums each complete with a plethora of interesting questions from a two-year old mind. It amazes me what that brain can absorb. Landon shares some of what he knows, but every so often he divulges a nugget of knowledge that I had no idea existed, I’m pretty sure his mind is full of similar bits of information. Landon also enjoys pretending to be a variety of different animals, taking on different traits of each animal that he is mimicking. Bird nests have been built on the couch for him to perch in, and we have howled at the moon like a pair of coyotes.

Our house is home to few pets, most noticeably our first ‘child’, our chocolate lab Dakota. She is a great companion for Landon, and she even begrudgingly shares her food with him from time to time. Most of the time Dakota is cautious enough to miss stepping on Colt, although the occasional tail slap to the face is really unavoidable. A little over a year ago, one of the women at Rhiannon’s work gave us a baby desert tortoise for Landon to care for. We named it Sam, since its sex won’t be discernable for a few more years and have set it up with a nice cage in our office. Landon enjoys feeding Sam and watching him/her crawl around on the floor, he is respectfully gentle with his little shelled companion, and they often play together over a shared piece of broccoli. In the back yard we also have a small whiskey barrel pond with a few goldfish in it, and hopefully in the next few months we will be setting up a saltwater tank as well. Growing up I had innumerous pets, and this is a tradition that I will happily pass on to my boys.

As I think I have referenced previously, Landon is a train addict. What started as an innocent introduction to Thomas the Tank Engine over a year ago, has morphed into a full fledged addiction that dominates Landon’s play time. He has at least four different train tracks in our house and a train table in his room, and a ride-a-long train that currently loops around our dining room floor. He has train videos, and train t-shirts and a train night light and train sheets on his bed. When we are in the car he is constantly scanning for train tracks and the occasional diesel engine. At the shopping mall he knows every store that has anything even remotely resembling a train. When we visit Disneyland, our first stop is always the Disneyland Railroad. I think that there is a realistic chance that at three year’s old he knows more about trains than I do at thirty-one.

Speaking of Disney, for Landon’s second birthday we picked up season passes and since the park is only a half hour car ride away we have spent many afternoons over the past year laughing away at the Magic Kingdom. Other than the train rides there, Landon also enjoys numerous other attractions including: It’s a Small World, the Jungle Cruise, and Buzz Lightyear’s Astro Blasters, to name a few favorites. He has also embraced several of the more recent Disney films. We limit Landon’s exposure to TV, or “tvd” as he refers to it, but most night’s before he goes to sleep we allow him to watch fifteen minutes from one of the movies in his collection. Some recent favorites include: the Lion King, Finding Nemo, Cars, a Bug’s Life, Toy Story and Monster’s Inc. A few months back after watching Monster’s Inc, Landon became convinced that there was a monster named Shadow living in his room, it took a few months to get him back into his bed from the safety of his pack-and-play, and as one might deduce, Monsters Inc has been removed from the bedtime viewing list for now.

Landon has become more coordinated and has also begun to develop an interest in sports and games. He likes to shoot hoops in the backyard, and has become quite accomplished at hitting a ball off the tee with a plastic bat, he also has a soccer goal in the house and will shout, “gooooooaalll” after kicking (or throwing) the ball in the net. During the past football season, Landon wore a lucky Chargers jersey every Sunday, unfortunately that jersey lost its luck during the playoffs. He also is always interested to help with the yard work and has also become a very willing assistant for a numerous of home repairs. For this past Christmas he received some plastic tools including a hammer, screwdriver and wrench that he used to help me assemble a baby gate atop the stairs last month.

This past summer Landon and I went on a few fishing trips to the local pond. We hooked a number of little bluegill and Landon seemed to relish in all of it from the worms to the hooks and bobbers to giving the fish a little kiss before he released them back into the water. Now he will ask when we can go fishing again which always makes me smile, and during the colder winter months he has created an indoor fishing pole out of some plastic chain and a stick that he uses to fish for “daddy-fish and colton-fish”. Landon has visited a number of streams and rivers, including the Provo, Big Wood, Merced, San Joaquin, Yuba, Silver Creek and Mammoth Creek. He also is proud to announce that trout live in rivers and streams, and that his daddy likes to catch trout. I can’t wait until our next trip to the banks of a flowing stream.

Another one of Landon’s favorite destinations is the beach. He loves to dig big holes and trenches in the sand for his trains to drive through. No seagull is safe from his giggling chase. More recently we have begun to introduce him to the animals of the intertidal; his fingers have already felt the tug from large green anemones. In general Landon seems to prefer to conduct his adventures outside whether at the beach, the park, or even within the confines of our backyard.

The year ahead should be filled with more incredible milestones for Landon Wyatt. He will start preschool next fall. Hopefully sometime soon he will transition out of his diapers. This summer I plan on teaching him to swim, and to ride a bike, and next winter he will get strapped to a snowboard for the first time. We will go on his first camping trip and maybe even try to catch his first trout. I can’t wait, but at the same time I want to hold onto each precious minute just a few seconds longer.

2007-02-09T09:49:00.000-08:00

2006 – THROUGH THE EYES OF COLTON LUKE

The following entry will hopefully give Colton Luke a little of the description and background information that he so justifiably deserves. That being said, I will be attempting to summarize events from the last 11 months, and since lunch yesterday is barely a foggy rumble in my digestive tract and memory banks, I will undeniably skip too much and gloss past some details.

The first few months of Colt’s life were a pink baby blur filled with napping, nursing, cooing and occasionally crying. Thankfully this period was void of traumatic events, and gave our family time to adjust to its newest member. He spent quite a bit of his time relaxing in a ‘Moses’ basket that Rhiannon would drag with her throughout the house. We didn’t use a basket for Landon, but in hindsight it proved an invaluable tool for our early care of Colt, allowing us a portable bed that could be taken virtually anywhere, and at the end of the day fit snuggly into his bassinet. We could, and at times did, swing it through the air to not-so-gently rock Colt to sleep when he was fussy. The combination of the basket and a stuffed animal that played water sounds (rivers, rain, etc) and Colt spent many peaceful hours resting and cooing. I often found myself jealous of his plush accommodations.

I also want to take a sentence or two to describe Colton’s nickname selection, as I often refer to him as Colt rather than Colton. Rhiannon and I both selected the name Colton Luke because of the uniquely American, somewhat rugged image it elicited, similar to his brother’s moniker, Landon Wyatt. As inevitably happens with names, shorter versions evolve and Rhiannon and I squared off somewhat between Colt and Cole as developing nicknames for our new son. Rhiannon had always been a proponent of Cole, even as a unique name all unto itself, whereas I preferred Colt, again for its unique imagery (there was also the problem that ‘Cole Buhr’ sounded a little too much like ‘Colby’, an ex girlfriend that now lives happily in the back woods somewhere as a married lesbian – no joke). Over time I recruited Landon to the Colt nickname team, and between the two of us, Colton is often referred to as Colt, but rarely if ever as Cole. I guess if he wants he can always run with the Cole handle when he’s older if he prefers.

After a few months, Colt quickly adopted a snuggle buddy that would exist as his drool depository, milk absorbent pad, comfort blanket and midnight pal. He selected a small blanket with the pattern of a giraffe, complete with a little giraffe head and tail emerging from opposite ends of the blanket. We had originally tried to introduce this blanket to Landon during his infancy, but a frightening experience where he wrapped his head up in the material left us fearing suffocation, and instead Landon grew up holding tight to a smaller, orange, rabbit shaped blanket named Gully. Maybe the second time around as parents we were a little less cautious, anyway Colt and Raffi got along well right from the start. Of course it also wasn’t long before Colt would have trouble falling asleep unless Raffi was placed squarely over his face. This was unnerving for quite some time, but it did help get him settled in at night, perhaps from lack of oxygen, but regardless, after a few weeks without any deleterious reactions we grew accustomed to his habit and he has stuck with it ever since. Today Raffi still accompanies Colt around everywhere, although his yarn mane has been completely plucked clean by his owner and friend, and one of his nostrils is a little unraveled, his horns still complete their function as a chewing oasis, and his worn cotton keeps Colt warm at night.

A description of Colt physically is probably also warranted. Colt is slightly shorter and stockier than his older brother was, a little more of a butterball, probably due to his eating habits which I will need to discuss later. He has large, bright blue eyes, with a slight puppy dog slant at their corners similar to his mother’s. His hair is straight and straw-blond, until just recently it would stick straight up in a natural mohawk – we recorded several instance of this on the photographic record as it was undeniably adorable – our own mini punk. Currently, Colt has four, big, white chompers, and by the proliferation of drool flooding from his mouth, signs point to more teeth arriving soon. Recently he has begun sticking his tongue out, with or without provocation, and upon its extension I always laugh at how big it is. He has been sitting up for several months now, and started aggressively crawling just before Christmas. Before that he would propel himself by implementing a backwards scoot on his belly and then spinning to orient his face in the proper direction after he either reached his destination or crashed into something along the way. He also implemented a soldier style crawl for a short period of time. When so inclined he will pull himself up to his feet while holding onto adjacent furniture, but no attempts at walking or standing have been witnessed. He claps excitedly when happy, and will wave, and occasionally even extend a slow motion high five. His hands rise up in the air when he wants to be picked up and he giggles uncontrollably when his belly is tickled.

I know that most if not all parents think that their children are the absolute cutest things on the planet. And I also know that it’s probably not politically correct to make comparisons but I’m going to go ahead anyway. Colt really is downright adorable - cutest baby I have ever seen. There I said it, and I’ll stand behind it, and that previous statement even includes his older brother who was/is incredibly adorable in his own right. I’m speaking from a position of experience here, I was after all voted the “cutest baby in Poway” in 1975, and Colt blows my baby pictures out of the water.

Colt’s language skills continue to entertain him. He is a very vocal baby, although 99% of his current evocations are comprised of babble, he most definitely seems to understand the dialogue flowing from his lips. Following in his brother’s footsteps, his first word was “Dada”, a fact that we tried to keep hidden from his mom until the evidence was simply to omnipresent. Shortly thereafter he introduced, “Mama” to his vocabulary, and I’m convinced I have heard his emit some derivative of, “Andon” as well.

It is apparent and openly welcomed that Colton loves his parents. That being said, his love for his older brother far surpasses his affection for anyone or anything else he has come into contact with to date. When Landon enters a room, Colt’s face lights up with glee, and he immediately crawls over to investigate what adventure Landon is currently involved in. His infatuation is endearing and more often than not it is returned in varying degrees by his older sibling. Unfortunately this worship also can evolve into a source of tension in the house. Landon has toys that he has identified as exclusively his; most of these are trains, but a few other possessions also fall into this category. Colt never has seemed to pick up on this distinction though, which often results in a confrontation where Landon either rips a toy away from his little brother or simply pushes/blocks him out of the way. This often Leaves Colt frustrated and upset. Conversely, there are situations where Colt will discover a toy, or a spoon, or stimulating object that will provoke giggles and smiles from Colt’s exploration of said discovery. This often is followed by Landon coming over to investigate, and if his interest is peaked, he will simply tear the object away from his little friend, which is consistently followed by wailing tears and disbelief. To try to alleviate this situation we have tried to enact a ‘trading rule’ where if Landon wants to take a toy away from Colt he must replace it with one of his trains. This occasionally works, although often Landon will drop by a different, forgotten toy to complete the transaction that he has no desire to play with.

I am often asked what are some of the more glaring differences between Colt and Landon when he was his age. I guess comparisons between siblings are unavoidable, although I imagine detested by those involved in the side by side investigation. That being said, the answer I most often deliver, is that one primary difference between the boys at this age is their independence. Colt will entertain himself independently for long periods of time, often crawling away from those around him, setting off on his own investigation of the world around him. He has learned already who to pull open draws, and makes a bee line for the refrigerator when he views its open door. Conversely Landon was always in need of attention, and would rarely stray out of sight. I’m sure to some extent Colton’s independence has evolved out of necessity due to his inability to compete with his larger and more actively coordinated brother. It probably also has something to do his own unique version of reality – he has never really experienced a world devoid of other competing distractions, so he has developed accordingly. That being said he has been becoming more aware that the squeaky wheel gets the grease and has become more insistent with his attention grabbing wails.

Colt has maintained a steady growth rate throughout his development; characteristically he falls into the 50th percentile for height, weight, and head circumference. He is an extraordinary eater, at no time has he ever been fussy or refused food except for the few weeks following his bout with the stomach flu last December. Initially he would grub on baby food, repeatedly voicing his disappointment when the spoon scraped the bottom of the bowl. We began fortifying his food with rice cereal or oatmeal, and eventually began to offer him two jars of food per feeding. In the past few months he has drifted away from baby food and has begun to incorporate more solid food into his diet. Whatever meal is being served, small morsels are distributed around the tray of his hi-chair where they are scavenged up by his little fingers and shoved excitedly into his mouth. Although sometimes a messy event, Colt always enjoys mealtime. He has yet to incorporate utensils into his feeding regime although I’m sure that event waits eminently on the horizon.

Most evenings the boys take a bath, in the past few months they have begun spending their time in the tub together. Landon often refuses to take a bath without Colt. Both boys love the water. Colt splashing and drinking the water, while Landon devises various games involving bath toys and occasionally trains. Landon also incorporates his brother into his adventures, a recently recurring installment involves Landon pretending he’s a shark, and then informing Colt that he is a sea otter, the shark then swims over and carefully begins to attack his prey carefully with the teeth. On most occasions this game resolves itself nonviolently, albeit with constant reminders from dad to be gentle. It should be interesting this summer when we take the kids to the local lagoon.

Colt was introduced to his first trout stream in July. We went on a family vacation to Sun Valley, Idaho for “Nunle” Justin’s 30th birthday celebration. The trip their also involved Colt’s first airplane ride, followed immediately by his first propeller plane ride which he seemed to enjoy much more than his grandmother. On the prop plane, seating was limited to 14 people, and the children were required to sit in our laps, with no more than one child per row. This meant that Rhiannon and Colt were scattered away from Landon and I during the flight and made all of us a little more uncomfortable than otherwise might have been expected, especially after Colt decided to poop one minute into the take-off. Once we arrived in Sun Valley we had a great time. Several friends also made the trip which involved plenty of relaxing, fly fishing, and catching up. Colt was introduced to the Big Wood River and Silver Creek, and cooed appropriately for both. Unfortunately he was not successfully introduced to a trout at either location, that meeting will have to wait for a later date. We caught plenty of fish on the trip, just none when Colt was around; hopefully he isn’t some sort of trout deterrent.

Other adventures that Colt has been party to in the past year include the following, presented in no particular order or significance. We have taken several trips to the beach and at least one tide pool expedition, most excursions have been to Laguna, and most trips also involve wiping sand out of Colt’s mouth at some point. We have also introduced Colt to fish via the Aquarium of the Pacific in Long Beach, he appears to thoroughly enjoy following the swimming fish around the tanks, which always warms his dad’s heart. Colt has also been to a number of local zoos including the San Diego Zoo, the Wild Animal Park, the Santa Ana Zoo, and the Orange County Zoo. In the past year we have also made numerous trips to Disneyland and Colt willingly or not has been subject to a number of rides all of which he seemed to enjoy except for perhaps Pirates of the Caribbean. He has also survived his first holiday season complete with gnawing on a turkey leg and drooling on Christmas wrapping paper. This past New Year’s we visited the Reynolds and Slater clans in Brighton, Utah complete with Colton and Landon’s first introduction to the silent wonder of falling snow.

So there in a few paragraphs is a completely inadequate description of Colton Luke and his adventures and development in 2006. There is so much more to add surrounding this incredible little person, hopefully the future will provide the opportunity to do so. He is a joy, and already I feel honored to have him as a son.

2007-02-05T15:06:00.000-08:00

UPDATE?

So much time has passed since the last time I sat before the keyboard to recording the happenings in my life that I find myself making one excuse after another to continue to draw myself away. Now that I have that first sentence recorded, hopefully the rest will go a little easier. A lot has happened in the past eleven months, the primary event being the birth of our second son Colton Luke. Additionally, Rhiannon has begun teaching at a different school, I have changed jobs not once but twice, and my last, dear, remaining grandmother passed away. So its been a year of more ups than downs, which is good, but it has also been a year with little free time, and what time I found was spent sloshing through streams or floating around in the saltwater.

The driving force bringing back to this forum is the disservice that I feel I have done for little Colt. The first year of Landon’s life was recorded with some regularity in this journal, and yet as Colt’s 11th month birthday rolls around I have yet to type one sentence about his wonderful life. Recently I have used this journal as a reference to compare Landon’s development with that of Colt, each time thinking that I should record the more recent updates in our lives as well. Always I left disappointed with my diligence toward this task. So that is where I will begin this entry, with no idea exactly where I will end up.

In the month prior to Colt’s birth Rhiannon was experiencing intermittent bouts of extreme pain associated with pre-labor. Her checkups showed very slight progress, but the general tone from the doctor was to come back when something really significant happens. Several times we were just a few steps from the car ride to the hospital. Although it was a stressful situation for myself, I must assert that more than anything else it made me glad that the female bears the burden of child birth and not the male version in our species - I know I couldn’t take the stress and pain associated with child birth. The actual estimated date for Colt’s arrival was March 17th, however on the cold Saturday morning of March 11th we awoke from another restless night filled with Rhiannon’s labor pains and decided that we had reached a breaking point and that today would be the day we actually crossed the threshold into the maternity wing of the hospital. So after breakfast, we packed the car up, dropped Landon off at his grandparent Sharp’s house and proceeded to St. Joseph’s with the goal of welcoming our new son. The night before it had snowed on our local mountains, the air was crisp and alive, it occurred to me what a perfect day to begin a life on this planet.

We arrived at the hospital right around 9:00am and they checked us right in, no questions asked, no quick inspection to ensure Rhiannon’s progress in labor, just the standard, “sign right here, and follow me to you room.” It made me wonder why we hadn’t done this week’s earlier and circumvented so much of Rhiannon’s distress. Shortly thereafter our nurse introduced herself, after a year’s time I have regretfully forgotten her name, but she was a very happy, middle-aged woman who had worked at the hospital for the past 25 years. She had the same post-sixties, flower child, hippy mentality that my mom so often exudes. She had a familiar smile and was very attentive to Rhiannon which was most important. She started administering pitosin to accelerate Rhiannon’s labor, and by shortly after lunch Rhiannon’s epidural was injected. The morning was proceeding very smoothly, unfortunately that was soon to change.

Around 2:00pm we were introduced to the doctor who would be dragging Colt into the daylight. Regrettably, Dr. Fiorentino, Rhiannon’s obstetrician, would be unavailable to help her through the last leg of her pregnancy marathon. We were disappointed, after 9 months of regular visits (not to mention Landon’s pregnancy and delivery) a strong relationship and comfort level evolves with your particular doctor, it’s a little disorientating not have him guide you across the finish line. Dr. Ackerman was a young, red haired doctor from Spain with heavy framed glasses and an even heavier Spanish accent, and a decidedly non-American personality. He radiated energy, and lacked several of the filters that so often encumber our overly political correct society. At one point he joked about Rhiannon’s age, saying she was far too young to be having a baby, later he said something about her baby weight.

Shortly after exchanging further pleasantries Dr. Ackerman checked Rhiannon’s progress and determined it was time to break her water to speed the labor along. I should recall that Rhiannon was carrying extremely low during her pregnancy, and was also extending a very full belly. The consensus was that she was carrying a large amount of amniotic fluid and that was the cause of the extra protrusion. So, not shockingly, when Dr. Ackerman proceeded to rupture Rhiannon’s amniotic sack the ensuing flood of water was reminiscent of the blow out a stream might experience after a winter’s run off finally reaches its banks. The only problem was, the surge of water also dragged along with it a portion of the umbilical cord, causing a dire situation wherein if not attended to immediately the cold ambient air would cause the blood vessels in the cord to constrict, preventing the flow of any oxygen to the baby.

Dr. Ackerman thrust the cord, and his hand, back into Rhiannon and held it there, while also jumping onto the frame of her bed and shouting that the nurses needed to wheel her into the surgery room for an emergency C-section. Rhiannon burst into terrified tears during the commotion, prompting a sincere exchange where Dr. Ackerman looked like he was going to tear up as well because of Rhiannon’s distress, begging her, “Please don’t cry,” it was a touchingly tender exchange. I was utterly at a loss for words, my supportive attempts to assure Rhiannon that everything was going to be okay seemed hollow at best. And then to accelerate everything to a new level of panic, as I tried to follow the gurney as it wheeled down the hall with Dr. Ackerman surfing on its frame still with one hand wedged up against Colts’ head, a nurse abruptly blocked my way, informing me in a cold tone that I would have to wait in an adjacent room. Rhiannon’s tears returned at this news and my world went spinning.

They shunted me down to an empty delivery room across the hall from the surgery room and left me alone, saying that someone would return with more news. I called both of our parents and updated them with the news, my parents had yet to arrive at the hospital, and Rhiannon’s parents were just arriving. Through a choked up throat I again gave hollow assertions that everything was going to be okay.

A few minutes passed and a nurse entered the room complete with a jumpsuit, funny hat and socks for me to wear over my shoes. She informed me that the situation had bettered, the cord and baby were still within Rhiannon, and that she was doing well. They were going to keep her in the surgery room until Colt was actually delivered as a precaution. She also said that none of the nurses, in their combined experiences stretching back over 25 years, had ever seen a prolapsed umbilical cord resolve itself, the outcome was always a C-section – except this time. Apparently Colt’s big head was wedged in such a way that Dr. Ackerman was able to slip the cord back up behind it.

The surgery room was far different than the comfort filled confines of a normal delivery room. The soft pastels and flowers were replaced by cold blue tile stretching from the floor all the way to the ceiling, which I realized was probably for easy cleaning – yuck. A myriad of robot-like machines beeped and flickered. Rhiannon looked obviously uncomfortable at best, lying on her side as her labor slowly progressed. Remember too that she was still anesthetized from the chest down thanks to her epidural; she was essentially immobile and obviously still shaken. It felt incredible to hold her trembling hand.

I trudged down to the waiting room in my surgery room gear, and informed the now filled house, which included Andrea, and Rhiannon’s grandparents Alonzo as they had also arrived to join my parents, and Rhiannon’s parents, and a room warming Landon, that they would need to continue waiting, but that all were doing well after the brief trauma. I don’t think Landon knew what to do about my funny hat and shoes.

Finally by 6:00pm Dr. Ackerman gave the signal that it was time to begin pushing Colt out into the world. So Rhiannon pushed, and she pushed harder, and harder, and no baby came out. Dr. Ackerman joked that she wasn’t pushing hard enough, comparing her to a senior citizen at one point. This left Rhiannon devastated, and I was convinced by the white spots that were popping up on her red face that if she pushed much harder her head would explode like a champagne cork. After over an hour of debilitating pushing Colton Luke’s head began to appear. He came out looking straight up at the world, and not in the normal face down position that most babies emerge in. And as we expected he was a big baby. So couple this with the “sunny-side up” birth position and Dr. Ackerman was noticeably impressed that Rhiannon was able to complete such an event, shaking his head again and again, muttering how someone so little could produce something so large and in such a difficult delivery position. He apologized in his heavy accent for saying she wasn’t trying, obviously pushing a baby this big out, in such a painful pose, was not what he anticipated when he was poking fun at her lack of effort.

Colton Luke weighed in at 9 pounds 6 ounces and measured 20 inches long. He was shorter and stockier than his older brother had been. He emerged with same heart tingling wail that is impossible to recant. There is no feeling like being introduced to your son for the first time, and after such an obstacle filled day, seeing his pink little arms and legs flailing against there first exposure to cold, and air was definitely tear evoking. After marveling at him and his mother I slipped out to tell Landon and his posse that he had a new baby brother, a concept I am sure he was nowhere near ready to comprehend or accept. Rhiannon and Colt were wheeled back into our original delivery room which seemed to emerge from ancient history, the day had persisted for what seemed like a month.

Shortly thereafter the cavalry was ushered in, flash bulbs exploded, oohs and ahhs were exchanged, and then everyone was hustled out, it was late, close to 9:00pm, over 12 hours since we first entered the hospital. We were anxious to get to our recovery room and enjoy some peace and quiet getting to know our new family member. We even stole a few hours of sleep.

Our stay at the hospital was extended by an extra day because of concern that Colt may have picked up a bacterial infection. It was tough to be away from home for a total of three days and nights – we missed Landon, and his incremental visits during every day were not nearly enough. On one visit I gave him a pair of toy trains that I explained to him was a gift from his brother Colt. The trains were brothers too I continued, and Landon seemed to grasp a little bit the idea of brotherhood, and if nothing else seemed to like the idea that his new brother might, on occasion shower him with gifts. By the end of our stay we were ready to get home and begin our new life as a bigger and ever changing family.

*************************************************************************************

A few short weeks after Colt’s arrival, my last remaining grandparent, Harriet, took ill. My mom called to inform me that she was taking her to the hospital, an occurrence that had become more and more frequent over the past year. For whatever reason, I informed her that I was on my way down to San Diego to help, some how I guess knowing that this might be the last time she made the trip to the hospital. It was around 8:00pm. I reached the hospital and found my parents t the foot of the emergency room bed. Justin arrived shortly thereafter.

Upon my arrival, grandmom was coherent and interacting in some conversations, though obviously struggling, and in a good deal of pain. The memory that I will hold onto from that night will be holding her hand and telling her about her newest great grandson, whom she had yet to meet. She smiled, and squeezed my hand and asked that I tell him that she loved him, she also wanted me to deliver a kiss for him. It was one of those emotional scenes that remain when everything else blurs away. The rest of the night involved an increase in pain medication that rendered her in and out of consciousness. By the dawn hours of the following day she passed away. Rhiannon arrived with her great grandsons only a few hours later. A meeting between Colt and Harriet would have to wait for another arena.

*************************************************************************************

As if additions and subtractions to the life cycle weren’t enough during this time, I finally received a job offer that would take me away from Hubbs-Sea World and into the environmental consulting field as an environmental planner. It was a welcome and long awaited change, although the actual timing could have coincided with a little less hectic point in my life. I left behind an important program at Hubbs, and a job where a few of the perks involved weeks at Catalina and lobster diving across the street. Unfortunately those perks didn’t outweigh the negatives which included a work place with little room for growth and a job that primarily involved transporting fish throughout the Southern California freeway system in a rusty old pile of crap that sooner or later I am convinced would have rendered my end on this planet in a snarled traffic collision with little seabass flopping on the freeway gasping for air around me.

Pacific Municipal Consultants welcomed me aboard with little experience in planning, with the hope that my scientific background could help bridge the gap. I am indebted to them in the risk they took with me.

My new office was located in Torrance, 50 miles of congested freeway away from our home in Rancho Santa Margarita. In order to escape the gridlock that awaited me on my commute, we decided it was time to sell the pick up truck and get a more environmentally responsible car that would also allow for transport in the less crowded carpool lanes, even with only one person in the car. We purchased a Honda Civic Hybrid and after some initial trepidation about not having a truck for the first time in the past 13 years I have learned to really enjoy and appreciate my new ride.

The job at PMC allowed me to work at home two days a week which provided an incredible chance to spend time with my two quickly developing sons. By the end of the summer, Friday’s became Daddy and the Dude’s Day, where the boys would stay home with me for the day instead of going to day care, and we would head out on all sorts of different adventures. We spent time going to Irvine Park and riding on the railroad, having picnics, and visiting Yoyo the bear at the zoo. We went to the aquarium, and the beach and a number of other places throughout the county. What initially started out as a day where I would be filled with terror at the overwhelming possibility of watching two young children, and the myriad of bad things that could happen, quickly evolved into my favorite day of the week.

Regrettably the same freedom that allowed for my Friday’s with the boys was also the downfall of my time at PMC. I took my position as an environmental planner hoping to gain insight into a new profession and to develop new skills that would prove invaluable as my career path continued to be blazed. At PMC however most of my days were spent in an office that could hold 30 people comfortably with only myself and one other coworker present other than our boss. The workload was non existent. I would struggle to make it through the days I went into office without losing my mind from boredom. I spent way too much time thinking about fly fishing and managing my fantasy football teams. The tedium and lack of development couldn’t outweigh the freedoms that I experienced the rest of the week; especially since I was attempting to jump start a new career while the sands in the hour glass of my life continued to fall. I contend that this would have been the perfect just out of college with no responsibilities gig. I became stressed about the future implications of this job environment – I didn’t want to spend several years at PMC and have nothing to show for it on my resume, and with no other skills hanging from my belt. I was stressed about having two little mouths to provide for, a mortgage payment, and the prospect of getting older. I even contemplated returning to Hubbs at one point for less money only with the hope that my career might benefit, which in hindsight was a ridiculous stretch and only mirrored how desperate I was becoming.

Luckily, one day while I was wasting away the hours at the office surfing the internet I stumbled across an interesting opportunity. I was looking through a few state regulatory agency sites, and ended up on the site for the California Coastal Commission. It had a link to “employment opportunities”, which I followed and was interested to learn that there was a position open in the Long Beach office for a Coastal Program Analyst. The job description sounded interesting. So I filled out an application and sent it and my resume to San Francisco. This was in late September. A week later the Human Resources office for the CCC called and asked if I wanted my application forwarded to the test taking office. Sure? I replied. In my abbreviated research for the position I had neglected to notice the application procedures for the position. It’s the kind of bone head maneuver I execute with remarkable consistence. The challenges seemed innumerous. Passing a written test that was offered only once annually was required; coincidentally that test was scheduled for 2006 in October, only a few weeks away. A second oral exam awaited those that succeeded on the first test, followed by a state ranking of all applicants by their respective scores, followed by district interviews, followed by an offer for employment if one was really, really lucky.

Unfortunately the written and oral tests did not cover material that could be crammed for in a few short weeks, so with low expectations I proceeded. After several long and nervous months I somehow I managed to cross the hurdles in place and landed firmly on the tenth floor of the Arco Building in Long Beach with a view south to Dana Point, west to Catalina, and with a position as a Coastal Analyst for the CCC. My first day on the job was January 3rd, 2007, quite a memorable start to the new year. The position is far more competitive than I originally understood when I started the application process, which was fortuitous because I probably wouldn’t have even attempted to apply if I had realized that I would be one of hundreds vying for the position. Things have ended very well in the sense that I am now in a position where I will gain valuable experience in environmental planning, working for an agency whose mandate is to “protect California’s coastal resources”, a responsibility I am honored to try and uphold, and furthermore it means that at times I will be able to take my background in marine science off the shelf, dust it off, and put it to good use.

Life is an interesting path. A year ago I would never imagined that I would have changed employment twice and ended up far ahead of where I started off. I would have never guessed that having a second son goes farther than just doubling the joy in one’s life, the smiles and fatigue compound exponentially. The whole bit about the light at the end of the tunnel coming from the headlight on a train isn’t always true I guess. So that’s the update of the largest events of 2006, soon I hope to catch up on where the boys are presently, and hopefully continue to keep these updates a little more frequent…we’ll see.

2006-02-20T21:06:00.000-08:00

Landon’s 2nd Birthday

It’s been a year since I’ve sat down and wrote something in this journal, I could rally off countless excuses, but I won’t because that would take time that should instead be spent describing the events of this weekend, and updating the current Buhr family situation. Incredibly it seems like only yesterday that I was describing our pizza party spent dodging rain drops for Landon’s first birthday celebration, and here we are a year later already chasing around a two year old. Obviously I won’t be able to fill in all of the blanks between that last entry here and this present one, but I would at least try to capture this past weekend’s events, and in doing so perhaps also post a photograph of where things stand today in our family.

Friday the 17th was Landon’s actual 2nd birthday, I was returning from an aquaculture conference in Las Vegas (yes, they actually have fish meetings in the desert, never mind the lack of water), and spent a good portion of the morning working my way through a headache as I sped through the desert toward home. Home is now Rancho Santa Margarita, a town with a name that could only be found in Southern California, Orange County to be precise. We purchased our first home in May of 2005, and have been adjusting to home ownership ever since, it is continuing to feel more like our nest all of the time and less like a pile of twigs that someone else dragged together.

I returned home from the conference in the early afternoon, smack in the middle of little Landon’s nap, which was a disappointing since I hadn’t seen his grin in five days, but I had other tasks to attend to during his rest. Our dog Dakota had been experiencing some serious pain while I was away so I chauffeured her to the vet for an emergency health inspection. We feared the worst since she had been limping severely, and had trouble sleeping on one side. The vet’s diagnosis didn’t quite seem accurate, he suggested that the pain was likely from some arthritis in her spinal column, which seems an unlikely source of such an abrupt source of pain, but we will be watching her closely, keeping her on some pain medication, and taking her in for a second opinion next week.

Friday night we took Landon out to the Old Spaghetti Factory in Newport Beach for dinner, primarily for the opportunity to eat dinner in a trolley car rather than for the fine Italian cuisine served there. Landon was thrilled, as he is well beyond obsessed with anything that even slightly resembles a locomotive and his continuous giggles and “whoo whoo’s” made the night exceptional and quickly erased the long week in the sand. When we got home we let him stay up late and open his birthday presents, most of which were train related, and then tucked him in as he told us “happy birthday” again and again.

Since our second son, Colton Luke, is due within a month we decided to dedicate the entire 3-day weekend to celebrating Landon’s birthday. Saturday continued our train themed events as we took Landon on his first real ride on an Amtrak train line. His face beamed when he first saw the headlight of the engine as it slowed toward the station, still just a small light over a half mile away, however as the train rumbled closer, and the ground began to quake a little he quickly backpedaled into his father’s arms for a little safety from the mechanic monstrosity. I doubt until this point he ever really gauged how large an actual train engine could be. After his initial trepidation we boarded the passenger car and headed south to San Juan Capistrano. There we had a quick lunch at Ruby’s, an old style diner where they have model trains circling the restaurant ceiling. After our lunch, highlighted by Landon’s first bites of chicken in over six months (we feared he was becoming a vegetarian), we headed back home for a much needed nap. That evening we went out to dinner with Landon’s grandparents Sharp to celebrate his Papa’s new promotion, and Landon spent most of the dinner uninterested in the posh restaurant décor, and instead focused on the train tracks and train sticker books that set before him on the table.

Sunday we ventured to Irvine Regional Park, where we had a picnic by the lake, first feeding ourselves, immediately followed by feeding the ducks which Landon seemed to find far more satisfying the his picnic lunch. Then (surprise surprise) we rode on the small railway that cuts through the park, Landon excitedly pointing out all of the dusks we had just irresponsibly fattened up. After the train we checked out the small local zoo they have at the park, unfortunately most of the resident animals were sleeping, although Landon did spill some laughter feeding the goats and watching a fluffy white alpaca stand on its hind limbs to reach some branches on an overhead oak tree.

Monday morning we rose early for Landon’s two year old check up with Dr. Mackey. Historically over the past year our visits to the doctor’s offices have become increasingly more nightmarish, culminating with his eighteen month checkup where we were told to keep our blustery child in the exam room because we disturbing the other children there. Today’s trip was a marked improvement, Landon’s only tears came when the doctor turned off all of the lights to shine a bright light in his eyes, and of course when he was later pricked by a few needles. The good news is that his health checks out fine, although he has become our incredibly shrinking boy. Landon now weighs in at just less than 26 pounds and measures 34.5 inches in length. This puts him in the 25% for weight for boys of his age, and 50% for height. I was a little concerned about his weight, but the doctor told us as his parents to look in the mirror and realize that we too probably fall into these weight/height classes for adults. He said he’d much rather see a healthy, thin child than an obese one, which apparently there are more and more of all of the time. I agree – thin to win.

After braving the doctor’s we decided to reward Landon with his first trip to Disneyland. We purchased season passes, and plan to visit the Magic Kingdom frequently in the year ahead. Today we visited in this particular order - the Disneyland Railroad, Chip and Dale Tree House, Donald’s Boat, “It’s a Small World”, Casey Jr. Circus Train, Alice in Wonderland, Enchanted Tiki Room, Jungle Cruise, and the Disney Railroad (again). It was a great time, Landon was obviously enthralled with the entire spectacle, although he definitely took notice of everything there that even resembled a train, for example the caterpillars that shuttle you through Alice in Wonderland were aptly named “silly whoo whoo’s” by Landon. The second his head hit the stroller on the way out of the park he crashed like he was a newborn leaving the hospital which now seems a time so incredibly distant.

More updates will follow soon I hope, which will include most importantly the impending birth of Colton Luke, as you contemplate all of the weekend’s events above, try to imagine that Rhiannon is nine month’s pregnant and experiencing serious contractions throughout – I was convinced our second son was going to be born at the Old Spaghetti Factory at one point.

It’s good to be back here, disappointing that it has taken so long.

2005-08-07T15:18:00.000-07:00

August 4th, 2005

We visited Dr. Randy Fiorentino for the first time in almost eighteen months. He is the same friendly, great doctor as before, just now with a shorter haircut. I guess we'll be seeing him monthly again until next March 18th. I am undescribably excited.

2005-02-22T21:53:00.000-08:00

Birthday Update

I was genuinely planning to update this journal on Landon’s actual birthday, but with all of the different things occurring right now including the house hunt, birthday parties, work commitments, and so on, it has taken me five extra days to find the time to sit down and write a few thoughts. So, instead of simply recapping solely Landon’s actual birthday I will instead take the chance to revisit the activities that have surrounded the past week and Landon’s momentous ascent into life as a toddler.

February 17th, 2005 – Landon’s birthday

Rhiannon and I both decided to take the day off from work to celebrate this special day, how many times does your first child celebrate his first birthday? We spent the day waiting for the forecasted storm to arrive, having breakfast together and opening a few of Landon’s presents from his family. He received a preschool version of an x-wing fighter from his dad, complete with a Luke and R2-D2. Landon immediately discovered that the quickest way to remove the astrometric droid from the vehicle is by inverting the x-wing and removing the droid with a strong bite with his four teeth, a skill he has improved on with successive attempts. Later that morning we went for a long walk, and after Landon awoke from his morning nap we bundled him up and took him to the aquarium. Of course the rain decided to fall exactly as we made our way onto the tangled Southern Californian freeway system, but after a few delays we arrived at our destination. Landon seems to enjoy the aquarium more with every visit. We try to keep him in his stroller as long as possible, but inevitably he escapes and frantically begins to crawl from one display tank to another. Once this happens, he devolves completely into a wriggling mass and we as parents are left to desperately try and control him. I can hardly imagine how this situation will further deteriorate once Landon learns to walk. That evening we shared a family dinner and put Landon to bed, amazed that it had already been a year since we nervously watched him sleep in the hospital bed next to us. He has changed so much from the warm, delicate, cooing pink mass that he was back then - now he has gained a sense of self awareness, coordination and motivation, he displays cognitive thoughts, and carries out self imposed tasks. He amazes me every day.

The last few nights have been particularly stressful with the house situation, and every morning I graciously rush toward Landon’s crib for the precious few moments of the day when I can hug his sleepy little frame and become completely enveloped in how overwhelmingly dedicated I am to loving my son.

February 19th, 2005 – Landon’s party

For the past few months Rhiannon has been planning Landon’s first birthday celebration. The event which was to include family and friends and their kids was scheduled to take place in a park near Rhiannon’s parent’s house and include a jungle themed party complete with blow up animals and a bounce house for the kids. Inevitably of course the weather failed to cooperate with these plans and we were left at the last minute, the night before the party, scrambling for a new, rain protected venue, and with a long list of people to call regarding the change of plans. We ended up having the party at a local pizza place, and after Rhiannon finished decorating the establishment with balloons and streamers it looked very festive complete with the jungle theme still intact. We had over 50 people show up for the party, 40 of whom were adults, so we literally took over the entire facility for a few hours. It was great to bring so many people together to celebrate our son’s first year on the planet, but the number of people combined with the close quarter’s were a little daunting, as it became difficult for Rhiannon and I to visit with our guests as we attempted to make sure that everyone’s needs were met. We both forgot to eat lunch we were so distracted. Landon received a pile of presents that should last him until he enters kindergarten, and enjoyed his first sugary cupcake, completely unaided by adult supervision, which translated into the cupcake being shoved frosting first into his face, followed by several attempts to pound the remaining cake flat with his open palm. A few friends stayed around after to help open gifts and then we journeyed out to a nearby bowling alley and grabbed a quick dinner. It was great to have so many people that influence our lives be present to share in such a special event for us. I still am finding it hard to believe that Landon is a year old.

February 22nd, 2005 – Landon’s year check up

We took Landon to one of his least favorite places for some of his least favorite things this afternoon – today Landon had his year old visit to the doctor’s office today, complete with a few painful shots. Landon checked out well, he measures in at over 29 inches in length, and close to 23 pounds in weight. His growth has definitely slowed considerably since his last visit, but Dr. Mackey assured us that this is normal for this age in a child’s development. All of Landon’s other developmental skills are right on track, including being able to pinch things between his forefinger and thumb, utilizing a few words like mama and dada, and cruising around on whatever’s available, preparing himself to walk.
His fifth and sixth teeth are starting to make a more prominent appearance, and the ensuing teething process has increased Landon’s drool production and need to chew on anything that can find its way near his mouth.

As I alluded to a few times in this entry, our house hunt has not gone as smoothly as we anticipated, with a steady ratcheting up of sleepless nights over the past week. The original home we had placed an offer on we decided to back away from, and fell out of escrow on, so now we are back to stage one of the process, looking for a new building that we can call home. The whole process has called into question our future goals, our financial stability (or lack there of), and what we truly place value upon to create our happiness. The only thing that Rhiannon and I are absolutely sure of is that we want the best for Landon, and are willing to sacrifice just about anything else to make that happen.

2005-02-13T22:29:00.000-08:00

February 13th, 2005

Well again I have taken far too long to record all of the events that have taken place in Landon’s development over the past few weeks, but this time for once I have at least a moderately decent excuse. This past week Rhiannon, Landon and I have successfully submitted an offer on a house, and barring any problems with escrow in the upcoming weeks, our family will have a home to call their own. At this point I’m not sure if I’m more excited or terrified; chances are the latter takes a little more prominence in my thoughts right now. We are spreading ourselves thinner than I feel comfortable with financially and the last week has been filled with many sleepless nights were the popcorn ceiling above and my unblinking, tired eyes below, question my sanity regarding this whole decision. The house itself is new and needs little renovation upon moving in, but it lacks a real front yard and the backyard is smushed between surrounding homes. There are plenty of young families in the neighborhood, a good school district, and a secure atmosphere that all fall on the plus side of the board. Most importantly though, our family will have a home to call their own instead of renting space and wasting time in a cave buried somewhere in Irvine. The new place is located in Rancho Santa Margarita, up against the Santa Ana Mountains, with a decent view of the suburban sprawl of Orange County below. I’ve tried to talk myself out of the place several times, but I can’t, and that, more than anything gives me confidence that this is the right step towards building a family home.

Landon has yet to take his first unassisted steps, although he is now a confident pilot of his walkers, racing them back and forth across the carpet and the drive out back. He has learned to wave, and he eagerly gives out high and low fives, although the high variety seem to be his favorite as he aggressively slaps hands and smiles proudly after establishing contact. His grin is now filled with four and a half teeth with a sixth fang desperately close to breaking the surface. We have begun to replace the formula in his bottles with milk, and his diet of solid foods increases daily.

A few weeks back Landon and I had the entire day to ourselves; as Rhiannon took a much needed escape to a spa in La Jolla. The first official father-son day was filled with a few long walks to the lake, some racing around the circle in Landon’s little red car, a lunch visit with my parents at the San Clemente pier which included a close encounter with a brown pelican, and the day ended with a dinner that just the two of us shared at Goro, the local sushi restaurant. We were both exhausted by seven o’clock. It definitely made me appreciate the hard work Rhiannon devotes to our son when I’m not around, it also made me a little jealous of that time as well.

A year ago tonight I restlessly rolled on my pillow, wishing for a few peaceful minutes of sleep. Landon was due to be born on Valentine’s Day 2004, and that night could have been the last night before I became a father, a torch that I was quickly realizing then I would carry for the rest of my life. Landon came a few days later, but I can still clearly remember contemplating that dreamless night, how my life would change after I held my son. I tried to reason it through then, but pathetically now I realize that I had no idea what lay ahead. Perspectives and priorities have changed, new loves developed, old wants have faded. The river rushing around my feet is still crisp and clean and cold; now I just have a new shadow along side me in the stream, a little hand to hold, and a pair of feet that I have to introduce to the water, one drop at a time.

2005-01-25T18:22:00.000-08:00

January 25th, 2005

Landon is going through a stage of rapid development right now. He is quickly picking up new skills and sharing them with anyone who will take notice. A few of the more impressive changes are included below.

Rhiannon managed to teach Landon how to stick his little pink tongue out (I’m glad that she will take the fall for this skill, and not Landon’s father). Once his attention is acquired, he will slowly display his tongue through a devious little grin. Its pretty entertaining watching him proceed by first unveiling a small tip of his tongue and then slowly producing more and more pink mass, while the smile and beam on his face also grow proportionally. We’ve recorded the whole progression both with pictures and video, hopefully someday I will add some of that media to this journal.

About ten days ago on a Friday night Landon crawled over behind a little walker that he received as a present for Christmas. Initially both Rhiannon and I were apprehensive about introducing Landon to a walker because we had read that they actually can delay a child’s walking development. Eventually we threw caution to the wind and left the toy out for Landon to discover (we can be such daring parents at times). So on this Friday, I watched in amazement as Landon completely unprompted, crawled over to the walker, pulled himself to his feet and took a step, which was then followed by a quick retreat to his butt and then another vertical ascent followed by another step. He repeated this progression a few times, filled up his baby attention span and moved on to other investigations. We were out of town until that Sunday night, and upon returning home Landon discovered his walker again. I called Rhiannon in to watch Landon’s one step shuffle since she had missed the previous display, only this time after pulling himself to his feet Landon proceeded to walk completely across our living room until the walker crashed solidly to a stop against the couch. He then turned in our direction, beaming proudly and began to wave at us spastically with his whole right arm. He was obviously proud, and so were we. He repeated the feat a few more times, and we chased him and the walker around with a video camera before an electrical outlet caught his eye and the game was over. Since then Landon has taken several more trips behind the walker, but still no unaided steps have been produced, I have a feeling the sound of his footsteps will be bouncing around our cave soon.

Landon has become more proficient with a fork and spoon, although his shovel method that implements an open palm and his mouth strategically placed near the edge of his bowl is exponentially more effective. He routinely now can stick a small piece of pasta on the tine of a fork and maneuver the food item into his mouth. Also, Landon has discovered the wonder that can be found in a warm bowl of instant oatmeal on a cold morning. On weekend mornings when he spies his dad settling down for breakfast, he scoots across the floor giggling and screaming the entire way until he perches himself against my leg, standing tall with his mouth gaping open like a featherless baby bird. If I forget to alternate bites of oatmeal with him, the little bird always reminds me with a squawk.

A fifth tooth has begun to emerge from the upper left side of Landon’s mouth, which thankfully explains his recent increased crankiness and sensitivity, saliva production and vomiting. Thankfully most of those variables, especially the puking have already dissipated. Landon also attempted to pierce his dad’s nose last week with one of his front teeth. We were playing on the floor when he decided to crawl over and plant a big wet kiss on my nose. Adorably cute in theory, his little hand slipped in route, and left his face tumbling, tooth first, at my nose. He punctured straight down into the flesh on the tip of my nose; and after further investigation, I suspect he went tooth deep. My nose bled some, but Landon laughed even more, so all was forgiven.

Last week Landon went though a brief spell of deciding to wake up between four and five in the morning, with a few midnight crying bouts as well. The fits have since diminished, and we are guessing they were probably teething related. During these events it would take quite awhile of prolonged rocking and consoling to get the little tyke back to sleep. It was a peaceful experience to have him fall asleep in my arms again just not that welcome in the wee hours of the morning. I should probably also write down here what I whisper to Landon every night before he drifts off to sleep. It is admittedly corny, but it has become a routine nonetheless, and definitely a part of Landon’s development. Every night as I lay him down in his crib I whisper, “Landon, have wonderful dreams, of wishes and fishes and rivers and streams”. I know…awwww shucks.

2005-01-10T21:09:00.000-08:00

January 10th, 2005

Well the shine has worn off the tinsel, the needles have fallen, and the Christmas lights have been unplugged. Landon has had plenty of time to sort through his pile of presents and pick out a few choice selections. Most recently his favorites appear to be any spoon, be it wooden or metal, teaspoon, tablespoon or stirring size. He also has grown quite fond of his hairbrush which he pounds against the floor as he plods along on his crawling journeys. He also enjoys attempting to brush is fine light brown hair, as well as the hair of his parents when their heads are close enough to access. The magnets on the fridge also garner some attention; we had to replace the small black magnets with large, brightly colored, alphabet letter magnets because of his incessant desire to stuff the smaller, black versions into his mouth.

Of his ‘actual’ toys, Landon enjoys playing with his soft aquarium. This little aquarium is filled with a small stuffed clam, crab, fish and sea star. Landon received the aquarium as a present at his baby shower, but has only really shown a strong interest in it in the last month. Initially the little orange clam that squeaks when squeezed was his favorite, but more recently he has become enamored with the yellow starfish, pulling it out of the aquarium, placing it in his mouth, and then offering it to any other open mouths that choose to share in his treat before he returns it back to his fish tank. He recently has mastered the skill of removing all of the inhabitants from the tank, and then returning them to their aquatic home.

Yesterday we attended mass at St. Bartholomew’s Catholic Church in Long Beach. We visited the church to investigate the possibility of getting Landon baptized. It was the first time I had attended mass in quite awhile. Not surprisingly things hadn’t changed much. An old Irish priest spent a good deal of time lecturing his parishioners on how to properly believe in Christ, and at least half of the congregation looked as if they’d much rather be some place else. I always do enjoy the experience of having so many strangers gather together under an umbrella of shared beliefs - I guess I just always wished those beliefs were a little less structured. Landon seemed to enjoy himself in the crying room, and fittingly he didn’t cry once.

It has been raining incessantly the last few weeks. Los Angeles has received twenty inches of rain thus far this season compared to an average of four inches in a normal winter. Its still raining while I type this. Landon has adjusted well, he curiously stares out the window when the rain falls torrentially, and doesn’t seem to mind a bit when a few drops dampen his forehead. This summer we were incredibly close to moving to the central coast of Oregon, I guess the rain followed us south instead. The water and the weather the last few weeks have been a little challenging at times, but they also reaffirm my belief that this family would have survived just fine in the Pacific Northwest.

Landon watched the first half of the Chargers playoff game this past Saturday. It was the first time the team had made the playoffs in the past ten years, and in classic San Diego tradition, they lost a game they should have won on a missed field goal in overtime. Fortunately Landon was sound asleep and missed his father sob with disappointment.

2005-01-05T19:09:00.000-08:00

January 5th, 2005

Well, in the last six weeks Landon has mastered crawling, and cruising around the furniture. His coordination with grasping, throwing and bringing different objects together improves daily. His vocabulary has expanded to include “ma-ma, da-da, da-go-ga (Dakota), and go” there are rumors that he may have muttered a “kitti-kat” as well. He has decided that baby food is for babies, and has evolved on to enjoying small, cut up pieces of solid foods that he mashes and chews with his four teeth and gums. He has developed more personality, individuality and spunk, has shortened his naps down to two a day, and has continued to excel at wearing his parents out to the point to collapse.

Following are the last six weeks in a little more detail.

Vegas

Landon had his nine month doctor’s appointment on November 17th. Rhiannon had been somewhat concerned by the fact that Landon’s appetite had decreased recently, but Dr. Mackey assured us that Landon was still very healthy and doing well. He weighs in now at over 21 pounds and measures 28 inches in length (the size of a legal white seabass). Although he has now dropped out of the 90th percentile, he is still hovering around 75% in length and in the all important head circumference category.

Following his good bill of health, we decided Landon was in fit shape for a weekend away from his parents care, so we left the little rug rat with his grandparents Buhr, while we snuck off for a weekend of entertainment and debauchery in Las Vegas. It was definitely difficult to leave the little guy, but we felt confident we were leaving him in good and capable hands. I know my parents were also incredibly looking forward to an extended visit with their grandson, when I asked my Mom about the possibility of them watching Landon for the weekend, I’m pretty sure I heard a few excited tears tumble down her cheek.

Vegas was a blast as usual, except for the few hours of Saturday night that somehow I have failed to record in my memory bank. We drove out with Dave in Rhiannon’s new Pilot, and took advantage of Landon’s portable DVD to watch some movies during the drive – probably not an endorsed driving practice by the highway patrol, but the player fit just right on the dashboard. Justin and Jenn flew in from San Francisco, Iwan, as well as Zac and Kalia caught a plane from San Diego, and Nate and Melissa drove in later Friday night from Utah. It was a great Vegas weekend filled with family and friends spent laughing and drinking and gambling and calling to check on Landon.

We were very anxious to get home on Sunday, so as soon as we shook off our hangover around noon we pulled onto the 5 south, and joined the thousands of other cars headed back to Southern California. Unfortunately the weather decided not to cooperate. Just after the California-Nevada state line there is a desert mountain pass that crests at just over 4,000 feet. On our trip home this pass was engulfed in a blizzard. We passed the next four hours plodding along at 3 – 5 mph and after leaving Vegas 5 hours earlier we were a little more than 35 miles from the city, instead of reaching our final destination on Orange County. Eventually we dropped down the pass and the snow stopped sticking quite as heavily to the freeway. By the time we had reached Barstow however it looked more like we were climbing through the Sierras as more than a foot of snow had accumulated on the ground and was still coming down. The freeway was down to a one lane crawl again as we trudged through the dark and snow toward Victorville. By this time Rhiannon was lamenting the entire trip and wanted nothing more than to hold her son, add to that poor cell phone service and dying batteries, and the trip home continued to get more and more stressful. By 10:30pm, after over ten hours of driving, we reached Victorville, and were now faced with the decision of whether to push forward toward the Cajon Pass, or to submit to the elements and try and find a motel room for the night. Unable to find any reliable road info, and completely worn out from Vegas and ten hours of stressful driving we opted for a warm bed and a fresh start in the morning, hoping by then the snow would have abated. The first few motels we passed were already booked, but we eventually found a place with a few vacant rooms – five minutes after our arrival they were also sold out. The motel itself was pretty creepy, and would have been the perfect location for a cheesy Hollywood horror movie. At this point all of our nerves were fried; things looked like they couldn’t get any worse. A few minutes later, they did, when the power on the block went out which meant that we would have no lights and more importantly no heater for the entire cold night. Luckily we were fairly wiped out from the weekend so we able to fall asleep in the cold, ignoring the psychopath waiting for us outside our door. The next morning we awoke early to find clearing skies with over 18 inches of snow on the ground. We raced home, and made the last leg of our journey in just over an hour. We found out later that they did shut down the Cajon Pass for five hours the previous night, so if we would have pushed forward we would have spent the night in the car instead of the motel. It was awesome to see Landon again; he gave both of us hugs and seemed so happy to see us again. After the extended separation and arduous journey home I have a feeling that we won’t be leaving Landon behind any time soon.

Thanksgiving

We spent Landon’s first Thanksgiving at his grandparents Buhr’s house. It was a small dinner party, but what it lacked for in numbers, it far surpassed in warm memories. This was the first Thanksgiving that Justin had spent away from the family on this holiday, and my parents, being the pillars of sentimentality that they are deeply missed his presence. Luckily, Landon’s giggles lightened the mood, and he did his best to fill his uncle’s shoes. We shared the standard table fair complete with turkey and stuffing and gravy and so on, and I supplied a few lobsters for the feast as well. We decided that since this was such a special meal, and such a day to celebrate how truly grateful we are for little Landon, that we would forego the standard baby-jar-mush-meal that Landon typically enjoys and instead provided him a plate with all of the fixin’s, cut down into baby sized bites of course. This not only marked Landon’s first exposure to many new solid foods, but it was also his first taste of lobster which I particularly enjoyed watching him gobble up. I’m not entirely sure how much of the meal actually fell into Landon’s lap, but I would guess at least fifty percent of the food ended up in his tummy, and he had a terrific time spreading the rest all over his tray and smiling cheeks.

December 4th, 2004

We went shopping for our first Buhr family Christmas tree today. As a couple, Rhiannon and I had never purchased a tree together, but this Christmas, with a youngster in tow, we wanted to inundate all of his sense with Christmas cheer and holiday tradition. We figured he would at least appreciate the shiny bulbs and twinkling lights.

The Christmas tree lot experience was far different than the days I remember as a child, hunting through the rows of growing trees, looking for that perfect fit for the living room, circling the tree time and again, and finally upon discovering the archetypal tree, waving a flag vigorously so some guy in a plaid shirt could run over with a big saw and cut it down. We instead hunted through a lot at the nearby Home Depot, out of convenience, selection, and affordability. It was a practical Christmas decision.

The lot was full of trees, and we quickly decided to sort through the noble firs they had in stock. I was excited that at least the air had an overwhelming scent of evergreen. Landon seemed to like all of the trees, he would gently stroke their needles, and then follow his initial caress with a violent slap; looking initially quite perplexed, shifting swiftly to giggling delight. Rhiannon and I however struggled to find that ‘perfect tree’. There was an interesting dynamic taking place between the families present hunting for their Christmas centerpiece. All shared certain Christmas tree envy. If we eyed another couple holding out a tree, we would immediately question why we couldn’t find a tree like that. And when we investigated some crooked, unbalanced specimen, we would overhear someone whisper that they wanted a tree like that. This went on for quite some time; all of the parties present shuffling trees back and forth, each tree, looking so much better when another family possessed it. Eventually we grabbed a tree that a pair of old ladies had set down to “come back to later”, and finally the tree looked as good in person as it had from afar. The fir stood at over six feet tall, had wide strong branches, was sticky enough with sap that I smelled like tree for days afterward, and only had one small gap that we could hide against the wall.

It was a successful trip, and a great first tree for the family. Christmas is on its way

December 8th, 2004 (fever)

The following Wednesday, Landon had acted lethargic all day and had taken a four hour nap at his sitter’s (which crushes his day time average of sixty to ninety minutes). By the time he got home that night Rhiannon and I were fairly concerned that something was wrong with our little man, but no other symptoms immediately presented themselves. There was no cough, or rash or runny nose. Rhiannon took his temperature and it rang in at 103.7. We were immediately freaked out. After several more attempts with the “impossible to use on a wriggling nine month old” ear thermometer, we rang in several more readings ranging from 102.1 to 103.8. We called the doctor. They calmly told us that unless his fever was over 105, not to bring him to urgent care. They told us to give him a lukewarm bath and monitor him over night.

I gave him a bath that was probably too cold, making him shiver, and possibly raising his fever even higher. Rookie dad move of the month. We put him to bed early, and checked on him several times through the night. We slept fitfully at best.

The next morning his fever still had not broken, and by that afternoon Rhiannon had recorded a couple temperatures over 104, so she called Dr. Mackey to see if they might be able to see our son before the end of the day. They could see Landon at 4:30pm, Rhiannon had called at 4:00pm and the doctor’s office was only fifteen minutes away – without rush hour traffic. Rhiannon repeatedly called to report her progress both to me on my commute home, and to the doctor’s office, they were kind enough to leave the door open for Landon’s hyper-concerned mom as she arrived over twenty minutes late. Unfortunately Dr. Mackey was gone for the day, so in his staid Landon was cared for by Dr. Bruner, a female doctor at the practice. Landon was still pulling down a fever of 103.8 and still persisted in showing no other symptoms of infection or disease. This concerned Dr. Bruner, and upon sharing her concern with Rhiannon, she had a terrified mom holding a crying baby in the room with her. She suggested installing a catheter to collect a urine sample that would allow her to check Landon’s kidney function. Rhiannon quickly agreed; eager to try and provide any information that might lead to a diagnosis. The nurse told Rhiannon she was free to leave the room as the catheter might cause Landon quite a bit of discomfort. Unwilling to abandon her son, scared and sick in the arms of strangers, Rhiannon stood strong and held her son’s screaming head while they shoved a plastic tube inside his penis hole. UGH. The urine sample unfortunately shed no new light on the situation. Dr. Bruner insisted that Rhiannon bring Landon back the following day at 3:00pm, mentioning that if his fever held steady or increased he would need to come in sooner.

That night when Rhiannon returned from the doctor’s office she looked completely dilapidated and Landon looked equally fatigued. When I pulled him from his car seat his little blue eyes were hidden behind curtains of sagging, tired eyelids. He was sweating profusely. I was more scared than ever. Rhiannon tried to assure me by saying that he had been sleeping some in the car. I hoped she was right. Luckily for both of us, and our sanity, Landon began to perk up that evening. He batted ornaments on the Christmas tree, crawled around some, and carried on a few conversations with us and the dog. His fever dropped a little. He smiled. I can’t remember feeling more relieved.

The next morning Landon’s fever was up again, but not as high as previously. He ate better that morning, and by the time Rhiannon took him to the doctor’s, he was well on his way to recovery. This was our first real experience as parents with a sick child; it was definitely one we aren’t in a hurry to repeat. We learned a lot, but I think most importantly it highlighted something that Rhiannon and I both already felt quite certain of – Landon is precious, we would do anything for him. There is nothing as difficult as watching your child suffer, and this was only a fever, I’m not sure I can handle all of the lows that fatherhood may throw at us.

December 11th, 2004

By Saturday Landon seemed to have recovered from his illness, the cause of which still remained undetermined,, but he fact that he was feeling better combined with the fact that we it was his first Christmas prompted us to join our friend’s the Schoen’s at their annual Christmas Party. Mike’s mom has a house on one of the canal’s surrounding Naples Island in Long Beach, and every year the island hosts a boat parade of lights. Rhiannon and I have attended the event, and I was excited to get the opportunity to share this Christmas tradition with Landon for the first time.

We started the night with Zac and Kalia at a sushi bar in town. Our server was an older Asian gentleman, who insisted on making baby faces and sounds at Landon. The gesture was nice, but completely lost on our son who insisted on trying to swat the glasses off his face, and followed his every departure from the table with a look of disgust.

The night itself was exceptionally cold and foggy, Landon was well bundled from head to toe. The mist created a unique effect as the boats trimmed in lights appeared to float on air until they drifted closer, and the water of the canal appeared below them. Landon seemed to enjoy the show complete with several Santa’s and reindeers and a dragon that breathed fire. The parade started at 6:00pm however, and twenty minutes after it had started Landon had fallen asleep in my arms, his gently heaving lungs breathing warm gusts against my chest. It marked the first time Landon had fallen asleep in my arms since he was an infant. It was such a gift to have this consistently squirming bundle of energy lay peacefully in my arms, I held him tight until my arms began to shake – Landon has put on a few pounds since his infancy.

Christmas

Early in the day on Christmas Eve we headed down to the beach with dog and baby in tow to take in some ocean breezes, and to stick our toes in the sand. It was a spectacular Southern California afternoon, spending a few hours at the beach with my family forced me to realize how lucky we are to live in such a beautiful place. I hope this beach visit may be the first in a continuing Buhr family tradition on this day.

We spent Landon’s first Christmas Eve at his grandparents Sharp’s house. Both of Landon’s great grandparents from that side of the family were there that night, as well as his aunt and uncle Mulloy. Landon’s great grandmother Alonzo made traditional tamales that were outstanding as usual; I am desperately trying to get Rhiannon to learn this recipe so this tradition/treat does not disappear with the older generation.

Presents were opened after dinner and Landon who has become increasingly active, coordinated and confident in his movements spent the evening crawling and cruising around the room. As expected he was spoiled rotten, and to be honest we all were, Rhiannon has tremendously generous family. Also as expected, Landon paid little attention to most of his new toys, instead relishing in grabbing the dog’s fur and pounding on the glass coffee table.

Later that evening we snuck back home and tucked Landon in bed, promising him Santa would come while he dreamt. As advertised, the tree was laden with more presents Christmas morning and Landon took at least twenty seconds to investigate each and every one. Of particular mention was a toddler size hippo, that when pushed will gobble up whatever is in his path, he also received his first laptop computer, and a four and a half foot tall, stuffed giraffe from his grandparents Buhr.

That afternoon we headed down to Poway to celebrate Christmas with the Buhr side of the family, including Landon’s grandparents, great grandmother Mleynek, uncle Justin, and two cousins from Hawaii, Leah and Chloe. We experienced another round of spoiling from this side of the family, and drank many cups of wassail, a Buhr Christmas drink, served warm. We stayed up late that night playing a card game called Uno, which our seven year old cousin Chloe beat us all handily at.

My guess is that Landon will probably remember more flashing lights and shiny ornaments than anything else this Christmas. Rhiannon and I will both never forget this first Christmas with our ultimate gift.

December 26th, 2004

As a kid I spent countless days charging around the Wild Animal Park pointing and laughing at the innumerous wild animals there. By the time I was three I could give a complete tour of the San Diego Zoo. So to continue this tradition we decided to head up to the Park this afternoon to introduce Landon to some of the wondrous animals that live there. We took a late train around the Park, the ride itself lasts close to an hour, and we were a little apprehensive as to how well Landon would tolerate the long trip, but at the risk of ruining everybody else’s tour of the facility we bundled Landon up and carried him aboard. He was absolutely hilarious. We anticipate that Landon might fall asleep during the ride since it was late in the day and he had missed his afternoon nap. On the contrary, Landon was curious and talkative the entire trip, pointing at the first elephants he had ever seen, and mistakenly calling a nearby deer a dog. He was giggling and babbling incessantly, it was by far the longest display of vocalization we had ever experienced with Landon. I may have mentioned previously, and I am sure I will discuss it again, but one of the most incredible facets to fatherhood is watching your child experience something for the first time. This experience is especially sensational when it is something that was so important to your personal childhood. I used to build zoos out of blocks on the floor of my room when I was little. I always envisioned that someday I would be a zookeeper. Watching Landon intensely stare across the recreated African plains of the Park caught me more sentimental than I had imagined. Landon has definitely softened me up more than I had expected.

New Year’s Eve

Landon’s uncle Justin was still in town the following weekend, so we again tripped down to Poway to celebrate the final day of the year with family and friends. We had a nice dinner with Jenn and Justin, and Iwan and Sara, and then returned for some fun drinking games at the Buhr pad while we waited for the prerecorded ball to drop. Justin and I invented Buhr Pong, and my mom was convinced that we should copyright and market it, although that may have been the cocktails talking. Landon spent the night peacefully sleeping in a nearby bedroom, immune to the debauchery that was going on around him. We all awoke to hangovers and college football bowls and plates of Buhr nachos. We also all awoke to an exciting new year that will hopefully bring us much joy and new exciting events with Landon to celebrate. His year old birthday looms on the horizon, it seems like only yesterday that I heard his first sweet scream.

2004-12-29T22:02:00.000-08:00

Landon laughs when I sneeze. ( I know I am delinquent in about six weeks of events - they are sitting in a puragtory, somewhere between my mind and my word processor, hopefully they will be recorded soon).

2004-11-09T21:30:00.000-08:00

November 9th, 2004

Just a few quick updates on Landon’s development.

Landon has become quite the crawler. He can scoot across the floor in mere seconds now, and has completely abandoned his electric worm style of locomotion. His speed increases several fold if he is cruising around naked, unencumbered by the drag of loose fitting baby clothes. He also has developed the ability to pull himself up on an object and stand as long as he grips something with at least one hand for support. It is indescribably cute when the object he decides to use as his support is his Dad’s leg, seeing the little guy crawl across the floor and grab onto my pant leg for support evokes a smile from both father and son every time. He is getting increasingly steady on his feet daily, I have a feeling the little dude may be walking by Christmas.

There are now four little white teeth beaming in Landon’s smile. His top two teeth are not completely descended yet, but all four are present enough to produce a painful little bite, which it seems more often than not occurs on his Mom’s unprepared shoulder.

Landon has also taken his first steps in the romance department. This week Landon has begun giving kisses to family and friends, and all of his kisses are wet, open mouthed kisses, complete with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. Any sloppiness incurred is immediately replaced by his adorable little face, smiling up at you after planting a kiss on your cheek. Presently Landon’s favorite kissing partner is Dakota, who happily returns the favor by licking Landon’s face and open mouth repeatedly with her tongue. We are trying to discourage this behavior, but unfortunately both parties seem to enjoy the experience.

Last weekend we spent Saturday night at my parent’s celebrating Landon’s Great Grandmommy Mleynek’s 93rd birthday. It was great to spend some time with the family, Justin and Jenn came down to celebrate as well, and they both really seemed to enjoy the time with Landon. The most memorable event from the weekend unfortunately came at the expense of my parent’s living room carpet. Landon had filled up his diaper with a fresh pile of fuming poop, and Rhiannon had decided to let his little bottom air dry before applying a new diaper. Apparently Landon wasn’t anywhere close to finished with his latest brown production because a few minutes later, while standing at a nearby table, he proceeded to drop a new pile of baby poo directly on my parent’s white living room carpet. It smelled and looked awful. Fortunately, everyone had just finished eating their dessert a few minutes earlier. The debacle that followed included Landon standing in his crap pile, his father grabbing him by the armpits, and winging him around the house unsuccessfully trying not to get crap on himself, and finally ended with Landon wailing while both his parents and his grandmom tried to clean him up in the bathroom sink.

2004-10-31T20:49:00.000-08:00

October 31st, 2004

Happy Halloween! Landon crawled his way through his first Halloween today. His costume to celebrate this first event was shockingly enough, a little blue fish outfit. He looked absolutely hilarious, although I’m sure if Halloween had been a week later he wouldn’t have fit into the suit, we had to squeeze him pretty tight to slip between those blue fins and scales. We went to a Halloween party at the Schoen’s this afternoon, and albeit a biased one, in my opinion Landon had the coolest costume there, every time I’d set him down and he’d start to crawl across the floor, his big blue tail would flop back and forth, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Truth be told, it was a hot day, and Landon only lasted for about 30 minutes in his costume under the hot October sun.

Unfortunately Landon’s Halloween wasn’t all smiles and sparkling fish scales - in fact it was filled with more tricks than treats. Last night Landon vomited all over his crib, and again he ejected hot, recently swallowed breakfast all over his Dad this morning. He seemed in good spirits, and he didn’t have a fever so we took him to the Halloween party hoping for the best. But Landon decided to cover the back lawn with his lunch, so we decided the best place for him was back at home and left the party early. We had planned on taking Landon around the neighborhood with our neighbor’s kids, I was going to dress as a fisherman, and of course he would play the role of the trophy catch, but due to his questionable health, Landon spent his first Halloween indoors with his parents. We did carve a big pumpkin though, and one of the trick-or-treater’s parents commented on what a perfect jack o’ lantern it was, which was nice to hear.

The whole family has been sick all week, Rhiannon and I much worse than Landon thankfully, so we are all tuckered out and will be going to bed early tonight thanks to the time change. Hopefully next Halloween will be filled with more candy for our little fish.

2004-10-19T21:27:00.000-07:00

October 12th, 2004

Trippin – that’s what the Buhr’s have been doing the last few weeks. Rhiannon is on a three week break from her crazy little munchkins in kindergarten so we decided to take the time to get away from the suburban flatlands of Southern California and head to the Sierras and Rockies. Seeing the mountains and standing in a trout stream always makes me lose sight of the ocean and warm weather and long for the tranquility of a more beautiful, slower reality. Although the trips presented some new challenges involving traveling with the newest Buhr, all went well, and sharing the experience with him was well worth the extra effort.

Mammoth: September 29th – October 3rd

We took the new Pilot on its first road trip and headed up to Mammoth with Rhiannon’s parents for some much need lay around and do nothing time. It’s a trip we’ve taken several times with the Sharps, but this would be the first trip with Landon, so all bets were off as to how it would compare to our previous journeys to the Eastern Sierra.

We arrived on Wednesday afternoon, and unloaded our pile of bags into our residence at Snow Creek (it is unbelievable how many bags it takes to get a 7 month old baby to the mountains). The place was great, it sat on the golf course with a tremendous view of Mammoth and the surrounding mountains. The fall leaves were exploding in yellows and reds and the air was crisp and fresh, and smelled as sweet as it always does. WE grubbed at the town Roberto’s which had gained a second story since my last visit to town, 12 long months ago. The margaritas and carne asada were awesome as always. Landon enjoyed his Cheerios and flirted with a little toddler named Chloe. It was great start to the vacation.

Thursday we awoke to cloudy skies and cold mountain air. I drove down to nearby Mammoth Creek to float some flies, and Rhiannon ran Landon down to meet me with the jogging stroller. Landon got a chance to check out a trout stream in the Eastern Sierra and unfortunately his Dad didn’t catch a trout to show him until after he left. I did manage a few trout that morning, and definitely hooked myself on how enjoyable fly fishing can be. By the time Rhiannon’s Dad and I visited the fly shop later that morning the dark clouds had opened up and dumped hail and large drain drops all over the town. Undeterred we headed down to Hot Creek for a few hours, hoping the clouds would bring out the Blue Winged Olives. The mayflies failed to make an appearance, but our trip ended with a sixteen inch rainbow coming tight on the end of my line after Grandpa Sharp basically forced me to fish this one last run before we left. It was the largest fish I’d pulled out of Hot Creek in a few years. That night be ordered pizza and spent time together at he cabin as a family.

The following morning found me and my father in law heading down for our annual trip to fish the middle fork of the San Joaquin River amidst a deluge of fall colors. As always the river and the scenery failed to disappoint and the trout cooperated as well. This valley in the shadow of the Minaret Peaks is one of my favorite places; I can’t wait to experience a camping trip with Landon and Rhiannon to this incredible valley. That night as we got ready for dinner, I moved for the first time with the rapid reflexes of a father protecting his son. Rhiannon left Landon on our bed and turned to leave the room to briefly grab something from the bathroom. Landon grabbed the opportunity to escape and scooted his way toward the edge of the bed. I turned just in time to see Landon tumble head first off the edge of the bed. I don’t know how I covered the four feet that separated me from the edge of the bed that quickly, but I managed to catch Landon literally inches before his head cracked the ground. He scraped his temple on the bed frame and cried a little, but other than the tears, he emerged unscathed. I felt so lucky and unsure how I had made the grab.

Saturday we took some early Christmas pictures, and played a round of golf that afternoon. That evening we had one of the best dinners I can remember at Whiskey Creek. Land is becoming quite an accomplished flirt as he had both the manager and our server smiling and cooing about what an adorable baby he was, he of course returned every smile with an even brighter two teethed grin.

Sunday was a long ride home, but Landon slept a good portion of the trip, we broke things up with a picnic in Lone Pine, and ended the day with a dinner with the Buhr Grandparents back in Irvine. It was good to be home but the trip definitely left me longing for more time in the mountains.

Utah: October 7th – 11th

We headed to airport on Thursday morning with a good deal of trepidation, unsure of how our plane ride would go with our now incredibly active son. Couple that with the ungodly amount of gear we decided we couldn’t be without for the trip, and we wondered if the plane would be able to get off the runway, let alone get us to our final destination of Salt Lake City where we would reunite with our good friends Nate and Melissa Reynolds who recently left SoCal to live in this northern Rocky State. The flight and the hour plus layover in Vegas were mercifully uneventful, thanks in part to our inclusion of a portable DVD player for the trip. At the slightest sign of activity or uneasiness from Landon and we would plop a little Baby Einstein directly in his line of sight and he would relax into an unblinking stare directed towards the puppets that danced in front of him on the small seven inch screen. That night we laughed and drank with Nate and Mel and enjoyed their hospitality in their recently purchased home with incredible mountains framing their backyard.

The next day Nate and I got a late start out to the Middle Provo River, and the girls and Landon headed off for some lunch and shopping in Park City. The Provo is one of my favorite places to fly fish, and this trip didn’t disappoint. The fall colors were incredible, the fish cooperative, and the knowing smiles shared with Nate about how lucky we were to share this unforgettable. That night we crashed at Melissa’s parent’s cabin in Brighton which is amazing in itself, but coupled with the Slater hospitality and we truly felt at home. We played some poker that night and went to sleep exhausted after a long day.

The following morning we had a great breakfast and shared some laughs over Landon’s futile attempts to crawl across the slippery hardwood floor in the kitchen. As always he was enamored with the Slater’s dogs, and desperately wanted to scoot up to play with them, but his attempts were thwarted by the slickly polished floor. His little booty covered feet could gain no purchase on the floor, so he was left to frustratingly push himself in circles around the floor. The lack of success failed to dampen his mood, as again he giggled the morning away.

I overheard Jim Slater talking to his eldest daughter on the phone, remarking what good parents Rhiannon and I were. It caught me off guard because more often than not I still struggle with the realization that I am a parent, let alone the possibility that I am succeeding at this alien task.

That afternoon we all headed back to the Provo for some continued fishing and time together. The wind whipped yellow leaves into a frenzy over the moving water creating an incredible visual spectacle, but a difficult fishing environment. I waded out with Landon into the middle of the river with Landon, and held him out so he could feel the river flow past his outstretched hands. His fascination was a memory I will hold tightly. Later after a few brown trout, we met back at the cabin and left a sleeping Landon to the supervision of the Slaters, while the four of us enjoyed a great dinned and a few bottles of wine at the local steakhouse in Brighton. That night, Landon awoke screaming around midnight much to this dismay of his parents. I’m still unsure whether he had a nightmare, or was upset to awake so far from the nearest trout stream, but after over an hour of begging and pleading from his parents he finally drifted off to sleep.

Sunday we headed back down the mountains to Salt Lake and spent the afternoon watching football with Landon, while the girls went shopping in town. We played some games that night, figured out when we might get together again, and mentally prepared ourselves for the long trip home. Our return flight was similar to the trip out complete with too much gear and soothing moments provided by the DVD player. I should also describe the fact that on our way into the Salt Lake terminal Rhiannon was flagged for a secondary search by security because her license had expired. What was frustrating about this experience was the fact that because Rhiannon carried Landon through the magical scanning metal detector arch he was forced into secondary with her, and was also subjected to a frisking and wanding completely confused by the whole experience. We made it home safely glad we went, but also glad to be home to our cave in Irvine.

2004-09-28T22:08:00.000-07:00

September 28th, 2004

Reborn.

I’ve heard it mentioned from several fathers, that having a child changes one’s perspective on life. I find it hard to disagree. Landon’s birth has had a strong effect on me, but rather than giving me a different perspective, it has given me his perspective. It is very surreal to watch the world develop through Landon’s eyes. Recently I have been awed by his lack of understanding of pain. If Landon bumps his head or smashes a finger a look of utter disbelief washes across his face. He is completely under prepared and inexperienced with pain. Tears quickly ensue, but for a brief moment you can watch him trying to comprehend what the heck is happening to his pounding cranium. And before the tears can dry, he plods forward bumping his head into the next sharp, pointy object in his path. I must admit to a slight bit of jealousy. His courage is tremendous. His bravery may be blind now, but nonetheless he crawls across the floor, unencumbered by fear. Meanwhile my personal trepidation about his safety, and about my own continued well being so that I can continue as a father for him, has increased several fold. So as I watch my son crawl like a lion, I have begun to tiptoe through life like a lamb. This isn’t the change of perspective I had anticipated, hopefully I can learn a little blind courage from my son, and hopefully he can learn a little caution from his dad.

2004-09-19T22:07:00.000-07:00

September 19th, 2004

Ugh. So much has happened with little Landon, and so little of it has been recorded here in the last few weeks. Here is an unfortunately short recap of the last few weeks.

Landon has attained forward mobility. Although he has yet to develop grace, he can get from point A to point B at a steady pace that is increasing in velocity with practice. That being said, Landon has yet to actually crawl in the traditional definition of the verb. His crawling style involves a steady push up to his hands and knees followed by a strong kick forward with his knees and feet causing his elbows to buckle and his entire body to lurch forward in a body slam/slide. This results in a net gain of close to 6 inches of forward progress. A quick push up begins the process over again. A number of these forward lurches strung together resemble an inch worm like progression across the floor, and as I mentioned, the more he practices, the quicker his inch worm technique becomes. It is rapidly becoming time to baby proof our cave.

The first tiny, jagged chomper has pushed through Landon’s lower gums. We felt the tooth before its arrival, but as of today you can actually view the little white island, standing tall in a see of pink. The rest of his front four teeth hopefully aren’t far behind, he still appears to be in quite a bit of discomfort from the whole process.

Landon may or may not have said his first word, depending on who you look to for confirmation. Each week it seems, Landon develops the ability to make a new sound, and then proceeds to babble that sound in his adorable little baby voice while he gains mastery of the new vocalization. This past week has been no different; the “da” phonic has been reverberating from Landon all week. This quickly evolved into long strings of, “da-da-da-da-da…” This afternoon as I got Landon ready for his bath he looked up at me and very clearly and concisely said, “Da-Da” which sounded a whole lot like Daddy to me and considering the eye contact and direction of his utterance, I am going to pronounce that Landon’s first word will have been recorded as such. That being said I should also mention that Rhiannon counters this argument by noting that Landon has also had similar conversations with the dog. I have tried to explain to her the subtle differences between daddy and doggy, but as of yet she is still standing by the possibility all of this could be nothing more than babbling baby nonsense.

Landon has also begun to develop some independence/attitude. Whether he is voicing his opinion on something, shoving away a spoonful of food or a bottle, or trying to crawl over a shoulder to grab some shiny keys, his determination has increased several fold. He has left behind the passive days of infancy behind, and is quickly developing into a little person with his own little identity and opinions. Look out world, a new Buhr ‘tude is developing.

2004-08-30T22:13:00.000-07:00

August 30th, 2004

It’s hard to keep up with Landon and even harder to keep up with this journal. Tonight as I stare at the blinking cursor, I know there are a million thoughts I want to put down, and at the same time, am at a loss for where to begin.

Life with a son is overwhelming, I can’t pinpoint the exact moment, but some time in the recent past my life completed the shift from a self directed progression through adulthood, into a wild orbit spinning tightly around my son (sun). It’s incredible, but all the same, involuntary, Landon has pulled me in like the tractor beam on the Death Star, and left me, just like the Falcon lost in his power of attraction.

We have still yet to officially witness Landon crawling forward. He can push himself up on his knees and rock forward and back, he can push himself backwards – often distancing himself even further from whatever object he is trying to reach, he can spin on his belly, and roll around like a steamroller, but as of yet still no official crawling has been observed by his parents. Landon still has yet to produce any teeth either, although the amount of drool he produces while chewing and smiling and breathing sometimes makes me wonder if he will someday shrivel up like a raisin from lack of hydration. Landon is definitely at the cusp of some big events.

Last weekend Landon and I visited the Santa Ana Zoo, which stands on a few measly acres adjacent to the 5 freeway, squeezed between apartment complexes and traffic signals. The zoo internally is not much more outstanding than its pathetic external surroundings. They have a few monkeys, some farm animals, a bald eagle with only one wing, and a few other wild animals from various random locations around the world. Our visit lasted a little over an hour – but we managed to cover the entire grounds, partly because the place is tiny, and partly because it was a sweltering afternoon and most of the animals took the chance to dodge the heat and sleep in the shade. I realized quickly that Landon had never seen a monkey in real life, so for him to differentiate between the unmoving, hairy, brown back of a monkey from the tree branch it was resting on, was near impossible. He did seem impressed by a large emu, and the waterfalls that were present in a few enclosures definitely caught his eye consistently. I realized that one of the amazing things about having a child will be sharing those first experiences with him. I can only imagine what he will think of his first real live elephant or giraffe or okapi – I can’t wait!

Landon and I went swimming yesterday afternoon in his grandparent’s (Sharp) pool. He continues to enjoy the water, although occasionally a splash of water in his face can send him cringing into his father’s arms. Dakota joined us in the pool as well – Landon appeared a little jealous of her swimming prowess at times, but more often than not, her presence, as usual evoked smiles and giggles. I’m afraid to put his little face in the water, but at the same time I’m morbidly curious to see if he will instinctively hold his breath. Basically the thought of his terrified mother screaming from the pool’s edge as her son coughs out some unexpected water delays this experiment – probably just another strong example of why Landon is lucky to have Rhiannon as his mother.

2004-08-17T21:46:00.000-07:00

August 17th, 2004

Happy Birthday Landon! Today marks the end of the most life changing six months of my life, the craziest, happiest, most sleep deprived six months of my life. Today Landon Wyatt celebrates his sixth month birthday. February seems like an eternity ago - the tiny, pink, dark haired, peacefully sleeping, quietly wailing newborn has been supplanted by a curious, eternally moving, vocal, light haired, bottomless pit of a child. I can’t believe they are the same person. I am so constantly inundated by events involving the present day Landon, that the early Landon often seems distant and unreal. I can’t believe he was ever that little, then again he was never truly a petite newborn.

On Monday, our babysitter Stacey reported that Landon had taken his first crawl across the floor. Rhiannon and I have yet to witness this event, although every night now religiously involves some time with Landon on his quilt with gentle urging from his parents, desperately trying to recreate the infamous movement. So far our attempts have proved unsuccessful. There is no doubt however that Landon is close to gaining mobility, he often displays his ability to rise up on his hands and knees, rocking his body forward and back, intently urging his body to move - as of yet his limbs have failed to cooperate.

Landon has gained the ability to sit upright without support from a father’s hand or a soft pillow. Presently his time balanced on his bottom rarely exceeds a few minutes however, any distraction that evokes quick movement of his head brings him crashing down, head first, onto the floor below. Nonetheless, the progress in Landon’s activity, coordination, and control has been impressively rapid.

Our friends Ben and Leslie gave birth to their first child Zachary Clay last Thursday. I saw Ben last night and he proudly came carrying a laptop complete with a slide show of his new son. It was great to see the enthusiasm on his face; I could definitely sympathize with his excitement and relief that his son had arrived safe and healthy.

Last Sunday the family went to a birthday celebration for the child of one of Rhiannon’s coworkers. While there, halfway through a set of childish songs, belted out by a man behind a guitar boasting a forced smile several sizes too big for his face, I received a call from my friend Iwan on my cell phone. I described where I was, and the events that were transpiring around me, drooling toddlers, wobbling around eating grass, and listening to the incessant jubilee dripping from the big smile guy. He responded that we was just getting up, and thinking about heading to the beach. More importantly he astutely noted that he couldn’t believe how different our lives had become. Sometimes I struggle with this reality as well. My life a few year’s ago involved planning fly fishing trips to Mammoth, poker nights and watching the sun set from the line up. Now I’m often asleep before ten, up shortly after dawn, and always tired without the ability to ever catch up or slow down. I sing silly songs (I may have always done that), play with bright toys and fly spoonfuls of mush into a toothless grin. My life has changed and I miss some of the things that I have left behind, but I now cherish the mush and the songs more than I ever thought I could.

Little has changed on the home front other than Landon’s growth and development. He still has a father frustrated with his career and inability to provide a better situation for his family. And we continue to live in a cave-like condo in Irvine; often I come home to find my son already asleep after my painfully long commute home through Southern California traffic. Landon is a lightening rod though; he never fails to elicit a smile from me, no matter how long or painful a day I have suffered through, nothing warms me like his beaming expressions.

2004-07-28T18:30:00.000-07:00

July 28th, 2004

Every night before I go to sleep, and every morning before I head off to work, I quietly tip-toe into Landon's room to peek at his slumbering little frame. It always blows me away how peaceful the little guy looks. I must admit I'm jealous. I doubt if I will achieve that level of tranquility again in my life - ever. More than that though, I get such a strong urge to just crawl into his crib and snuggle up next to him, maybe with the chance of borrowing just a sliver of blissful dreams. Its definitely a moment of fatherhood that I didn't expect to experience prior to all of this, but those moments in actuality are far more frequent than the preconceived notions surrounding being a dad that I carried with me before Landon was born.

2004-07-25T20:59:00.000-07:00

July 25th, 2004

I think I can sympathize with how Landon must feel when he lies prone on his belly, eyes filled with determination, making such efforts to attain whatever colorful, shiny object sits frustratingly out of his grasp. Try as he might, his coordination fails, and he remains immobile.   I think that’s a fairly strong analogy for a lot of things in my life, and definitely describes my relationship with this journal. But I’m back, albeit briefly, and so many things have happened that I can’t do any of them justice with such a belated description. I’ll try to hit the highlights.

This weekend Rhiannon, Landon and I headed across the channel to Catalina and spent the night in Isthmus Harbor on the Schoen’s boat, Sea Ya. Jenna and Mike and their son Michael invited us to spend the weekend with them, Jenna is a teacher at Rhiannon’s school, and quickly becoming one of her closest confidantes. Michael is 15 months old but looks more like he is ready to start preschool. They are all great people, and we had a relaxing time at the island. The trip also represented Landon’s first boat trip, which he handled well, often mesmerized by the reflections and contrasts presented by the Pacific.

A few weeks ago the Buhr family ventured up to Downieville, California for a few days of vacation along the north fork of the Yuba River. My parents, Justin and his girlfriend Jenn, all made the journey. Downieville is located in the gold country of California, along the western slope of the Sierras, about two hours north of Sacramento. It is also home to a population of close to 300 residents, and boasts the recognition of coming only 19 votes away from becoming the state capital back in the eighteen hundreds. The place we stayed at was called the Lure Resort, and is located right on the banks of the Yuba. It is a beautiful, lush area, and the cabin we stayed in boasted views of pine covered slopes, and the background music of the gurgling Yuba. It took some effort to arrive at our destination; the drive is close to 500 miles, and over nine and a half hours in duration – quite a trek for a four and a half month old baby. We timed our drive time to coincide with the cool darkness of night so that he might sleep through the ordeal, a plan that worked exceptionally well, except for the dark circles it left under his father’s eyes. We spent our time in the mountains relaxing, enjoying time with the family without a strict agenda to follow, we celebrated both Justin and my Dad’s birthdays, and even found a little time to float some flies. The rainbow trout in the Yuba are striking examples of their species with dark green speckled backs, shadowed underneath by a rosy sheen, and crisp, white tipped fins. This trip was Landon’s first time on a trout river, and I took the opportunity to immerse him in the wonder of the flowing water as thoroughly as I could, including a private little baptism we shared in a shallow riffle. It’s hard to describe the satisfaction and enjoyment I received sharing something so special to me with someone so special to me. Watching his eyes focus and light up at the sounds and smells and sights of the river is a feeling I wouldn’t trade for anything.

We bought a new car this week to replace Rhiannon’s run down Nissan Altima. We purchased a new, 2004 Honda Pilot. It’s a great midsize SUV that will allow for us to tote around Landon and all of his growing piles of gear, as well as Dakota, and still leaves space for the addition of a new sibling for Landon in the future. More importantly the car is rated extremely high for safety, which will allow for me to rest easier as my precious family dodges idiots on the dangerously crowded freeways of Southern California. Buying a new car is always such a stressful procedure, but I feel extremely confident in our purchase and think it will be the Buhr family chariot for years to come.

Landon’s teeth are making their push to break through his delicate gums, and this brings a new level of discomfort to his inexperienced little life.   All the time he has spent practicing grabbing and shoving different objects into his mouth now produces a purpose – everything that falls into his clutches now is chewed and chomped on with a deliberate and soothing violence. Unfortunately no white teeth have emerged yet, so we as a family are left waiting for the pain to end. Other than that, Landon is doing exceptional. He is gaining weight rapidly and has begun to eat mushy, blended vegetables - right now he is on his first tour of ‘yellow vegetables’, including carrots, squash and sweet potatoes. Landon is quite the little eater and cries disappointedly when his bottle is drained or his spoon scrapes the bottom of the bowl.

Every time I think I can’t love Landon more – I do.

2004-06-22T20:55:00.000-07:00

Father’s Day, 2004

Well, for a number of lame reasons I have been pulled away from this journal once again. The last three weeks have been filled with work trips and/or cruises to Santa Catalina Island (twice) and Santa Barbara for a total accrued time away from my son and wife of more than ten days, which is incredibly stupid and frustrating, as they are absolutely my two favorite people and in Landon’s case, a developing character - changing more rapidly every day. On top of the difficulties of separation, I came excruciatingly close to obtaining a new job that would have benefited both my career and immediate family, but as the phrase ‘excruciatingly close’ implies, I am still mired today in the monotonous field of fish delivery boy. What these obstacles did reaffirm was my love and devotion to my family – I would do anything for Rhiannon and Landon, miss them tremendously over periods of separation, and will continue to strive for an improvement over our current mundane existence in a cave-like condo located squarely in the middle of the limitless Southern Californian suburban sprawl.

All that aside I had a wonderful first Father’s Day last Sunday. Although no one in the family except perhaps Landon felt well; I was still recovering from twelve hour work days in Catalina, and Rhiannon lay swamped by the responsibilities that engulf a teacher at the end of a school year, we headed off to the Long Beach Aquarium to introduce Landon to the wonderful world of living and breathing and swimming and bubbling fish. There is definitely something that a two dimensional picture of a fish (of which Landon has seen plenty of examples) lacks completely, and something that a writhing, luminescent scaled living fish possesses that inherently defines and describes what a fish is. A fish doesn’t sit still. A fish is wet. A fish floats and dances and dives its way through a world we can only visit temporarily.

Landon seemed enthralled with the fish and often just the movement of water at the aquarium. I hope I’m not supplanting his genuine interest with a father’s desires, but Landon did seem to watch and follow the fish as they darted around in the tanks at the aquarium. My guess is their colors had something to do with it, but then again, there is something simple and relaxing about a fish that I believe even a four month old child can enjoy. Our visit was relatively short, Landon is still limited to a little more than two hours of awake time before the eyes get rubbed and the yawns begin to escape, but I had a wonderfully memorable time sharing with Landon something that is so essentially a part of who I am.

That night we walked to a Japanese restaurant and enjoyed fish in a different context – they were equally delicious.

Related to eating, but entirely unrelated to fish, Landon has begun to be introduced to solid foods. Last week he had his four month doctor’s visit where he weighed in at 15 lbs 15 oz, and taped in at 26 in. During the visit Dr. Mackey also suggested that we begin to integrate solid foods into Landon’s diet. So, in accordance with the doctor’s orders we began feeding Landon one meal a day of formula mixed with rice cereal. He is still struggling with the whole idea of keeping what goes in his mouth inside his teeth less jaws, but nonetheless he seems to relish in the whole messy experience as he giggles and smiles while his chin and bib become inundated with white mush. Solid food has also brought about Landon’s first solid dookie with was welcomed into this world under an incredible cloud of stink and confused infant cries. Rena did a good job of cleaning up the damage while I stood nearby gagging, in shock that such a big terd could come out of such a little butt, it was no wonder to me that he wailed during the entire expulsion.

2004-06-09T22:24:00.000-07:00

June 9th, 2004

Well it’s been far too long since I have visited this journal, not for lack of events worth reporting, but rather the opposite, life has become far too busy and complicated to find the time to sit down and rehash all that has happened. I finally find time to sit down and recollect now, not because of a pause in the rush, but rather because of an urge that if I don’t at least briefly try to tread water I will be swept away and never come back to this pile of memories.

Memorial Day Weekend

Friday morning, Rhiannon, Landon and I joined my parents for at rip to the Bay area to celebrate Justin’s graduation from San Francisco State. This was the first trip for Landon on a plane, the first trip for Landon away from home for more than a night, Landon’s first trip out of Southern California, and so on – this was a weekend of firsts to say the least.

With nervous apprehension we boarded the plane in Orange County early Friday, unsure of how Landon would adapt to his first flight through the clouds. Confident that Landon would greet his first experience with a rapid change in pressure in his ears with rattling screams, I was prepared to hold him up – Lion King style – for all of the air travelers to equally share in the glory of Landon’s lungs. Rhiannon and I were both prepared for the worst. Unbelievably, once we placed Landon in his car seat on the airplane he rolled slightly to the side, slipped a thumb into his puckered lips and drifted off to sleep – all before the jet engines were even fired up. He slept the whole flight – it was so relieving, such an awesome surprise, I could literally feel my stress get smaller just as quickly as the people left behind on the ground below quickly metamorphosed into fleas.

We landed and got settled in at the Nob Hill Motel, with a nice pair of adjoining rooms that combined plenty of quality family time with an always available escape hatch only a closed door away. More than anything else our room doubled as Landon’s nursery. It’s amazing how much gear goes into traveling with a three month old. The Buhr’s have officially become “that family” – the one struggling into elevators and down terminal hallways with bags and strollers and a hundred more potentially necessary items slung over shoulders and under armpits.

That night we had a sushi dinner with Justin and his girlfriend Jenn, along with some of the Reynold’s crew – Ben Leslie and Jay, who also made the northward pilgrimage to celebrate Justin’s success. And later after we tucked in Landon and Rhiannon and my parents, and headed down to the Big Foot Bar for a few more drinks and some Mega-Touch games. It was great to catch up with the Reynolds kids, Leslie is quickly coming along with her pregnancy, its great to imagine soon-to-be Zachary and Landon hanging out, and equally enjoyable to watch Ben and Leslie interact with Landon, realizing that all too soon they will have a giggling, drooling rug rat of their own to hold.

Saturday was Justin’s graduation ceremony, and in keeping with the tradition laid out by all graduation ceremonies preceding it, it was an utter debacle. We arrived on time with my parents, only to realize that the tickets to the event still remained back at Justin’s apartment, so after walking in with our heads down, ignoring the poor student assigned o ticket collection we were harangued for trying to bring a stroller into the event – God forbid our kid be comfortable, I guess it would be more reasonable to have a screaming child unsettling all of the attending families and friends within earshot. It took close to an hour for all of the graduates to enter the stadium. The ceremony started at noon, so by the time the last purple cloaked student smiled his way to his seat it was hot and uncomfortable. Landon was completely whacked. He was hungry and tired, so we decided to sneak out of the arena and give him a quick bottle before he completely melted down. He refused the bottle. We tried changing him on a grass campus lawn and were still greeted by a pouty lower lip. Finally we broke our way into a classroom building and found an empty classroom (all of the classrooms were empty) for Rhiannon to nurse Landon. We trekked our way back into the stadium and sat down, Landon refreshed, and listened to the remaining four speakers, all of which were very politically charged from the left, and the last of which decided this would be a great forum under the heated afternoon sun to spill forth an hour long diatribe on his life, graduating, and who hell knows what else, since I lost interest ten minutes in. Finally Justin walked across the stage, and I along with the rest of the family beamed for him, and after a four hour ceremony we met up on another campus lawn for a few commemorative snap shots.

That night Jenn threw a tremendous party for Justin on the 16th floor of the Francis Drake Hotel, in an awesome suite complete with a huge balcony that possessed a spectacular view of downtown San Fran. I think everybody in attendance was stunned, and Justin deserved it, his road to this point has had several twists, but he made it and the night was truly worth celebrating. Landon was a hit for the hour that he remained awake, but after that the night became a blur of gin and tonics and smile and cigars and slurred speech and more smiles. Thankfully my parents agreed in advance to watch Landon, so he didn’t have to get exposed to his inebriated parents. It was a great night, at least the parts that I remember.

The rest of the weekend was filled with laughter and giggles from Landon interspersed between games and conversations shared with family and friends. We caught up with Lyndsay and Jeanette, two friends of Rhiannon’s that we hadn’t seen in a long time. Jeanette has a new daughter of her own, along with a new 45 year old husband who was nice, but a little weird none the less. He cuts hair for 110 dollars a cut, sometimes I think my career with fish is a little unique, having the nads to charge that much for a haircut is a very unique skill.

Our plane home left Monday evening and we finally skidded into our beds/cribs around nine that night. All involved were exhausted. The trip involved some serious sacrifices but all were well worth the experience. Rhiannon, Landon and I are so proud of Justin, and so happy for his success. We will always be in his corner.

Its much later now than when I started typing this entry, and I am nowhere near where I hoped to be, hopefully continued thoughts will be coming soon.

2004-05-24T21:40:00.000-07:00

May 24th, 2004

Landon has definitely reached a new stage in his development. Gone are the days of sitting down peacefully with a little boy under your arm while he slowly drifts off to dreams of warm milk and warmer breasts. Landon has figured out that there is an ever-changing world going on around him, and that he needs to keep his head on a swivel to take it all in. He has reached a constant alert level ranking between orange and red. This makes him incredibly more fun to interact with, his smiles, intense stares, and perplexed expressions are an endless source of entertainment. It also makes him incredibly labor intensive, Landon is ready to take in the world around him, but he must have a personal tour guide at his side at all times. This evolves into long days of satisfying his limitless curiosities, broken up by periods of short naps where Landon recharges his little batteries for his next bout of exploration. Landon has yet to really embrace his toys; the real world appears to quench his inquisitiveness for the time being, however, he does have a few friends he holds onto during his journeys. Whenever he is in his car seat or stroller, he is always accompanied by either Chewy the brown dog, Scrappy the lobster, or Bananas the monkey. Whether it be by a paw or a claw, Landon holds tightly to one of his buddies, always alternating between hugging or trying to devour his plush little stuffed friends, giggling and sharing little secrets with them about whatever a little baby finds secretive.

Last week I nearly turned Landon into a block of ice. We usually run a humidifier in his room when it is hot and dry in the house, recently it has been both of these more often than not. The repeated humidifier usage had begun to turn our son's room into a mildew filled swamp, so per Rhiannon's request I partially opened up the window in Landon's room to air things out. Later that night Rhiannon reminded me to shut the window before the cool night air flooded the room. I quickly responded to here request, only instead of closing the window, I managed to open the window the rest of the way, and shortly thereafter drifted off to sleep. The next morning I took the dog out around 5:00am and heard a quiet little sneeze float out of the upstairs window. I literally froze. Another sneeze descended upon me from the wide open window above. I climbed the stairs and entered Landon's overly refrigerated room. He lay there quietly staring at the mobile above his crib. I reached out, felt his freezing little hands, and snuck him into our room and under the warm covers. He cooed a little and drifted off to sleep while I lay guilt ridden and wide awake next to him. I still manage to step into some deep holes in the fatherhood stream.

Landon took his first dip in a pool last week. He donned his Hawaiian print waterproof diapers and headed out to a pool party with his Mom and some of her friends from school. From all accounts he seemed to love the water. He looked hilarious in the pictures from the day - little baby man boobs and baby milk belly, literally glowing while sitting in RhiannonÕs tan arms. We visited the beach again last weekend, and Landon giggled and napped away on the warm sand. We have officially taken one step closer to family hood; we are now in the ranks of proud umbrella toting beach goers, next step a station wagon. Landon got a chance to feel sand between his toes which he seemed to enjoy; he also got to feel the ocean lap up over his feet which he seemed to enjoy far less. I guess we'll wait for the water to warm up a little more before his complete salt water baptism.

2004-05-20T21:50:00.000-07:00

May 20th, 2004

I zipped up and back to Oregon earlier this week (more on this trip in a later entry). I was gone for a total of 36 hours. I came away with a new discovery related to fatherhood. Having a son has made me much more aware of my own mortality. This little burst of new life has made me desperately aware of my own life, and the fact that suddenly, my existence has a new level of importance and responsibility placed upon it. I thought about it on the plane - what if my winged chariot crashed? what if I never saw my son again? would he remember me? I want to be there for Landon for all of the important things in his life, and all of the unimportant events as well. Suddenly I'm starting to think I should see a dermatologist to make sure my sun damaged skin isn't precancerous, suddenly my diet is something worth paying some attention to, maybe the air I breathe should be a little cleaner.

A coworker and I were reminiscing about early memories we have surrounding various fishing excursions we took as kids with our respective dads. I remembered dissecting fish on the patio table, cutting out eyeballs, and hearts, and stomachs to see what the fish had eaten. I remembered bringing home opaleye from the cliffs in La Jolla, still alive by the time we reached home, and trying to revive them in the sink with a mixture of tap water and table salt, the more they struggled to live, the more salt got mixed in the sink (they were after all, salt water fish). I remember falling in a pond and having my Dad fish me out. The memories forced me to realize what a wonderful and wonderfully patient father I have, and what a great role model he is for me now as a father, and how I need to try and reflect similar love and support toward Landon. I want to always remember to let Landon's imagination run wild, and to be there to share in his childhood adventures, knowing that it will shape the person he becomes, just like my adventures with scaled creatures has helped form who I am today.

I decided that the smell of old dried breast milk will always make me smile and think of Landon - gross but true.

2004-05-08T23:05:00.000-07:00

May 8th, 2004

Ugh, the responsibilities of fatherhood, husband and work have created an overwhelming time suckage that has kept me away from this journal for far too long, and unfortunately the trend looks to continue.

The last week and a half have been relatively uneventful in the big scheme of things. Landon has discovered that he has two hands, and that he can bring them together and interlock fingers, and put the whole writhing mound into his slobbery mouth. Essentially Landon has quickly learned that anything that comes into contact with his fingers belongs in his mouth. He also has begun to kick his legs up in the air, and will readily wrap his feet around a parental arm if given the chance. I affectionately have begun referring to this period as his ‘monkey phase’, and envision that this must in many ways be what it would have been like if I had ever gotten the monkey I had always wanted as a pet - the only real difference being that this monkey looks way too much like me, and doesn’t have a tail.

Tomorrow is Mother’s Day and Landon has promised that he will stop crying and begin to sleep through the entire night, at least that’s what I got out of his smile framed gurgles this afternoon. Truthfully though, as I have quickly come to appreciate in my brief stint as a father, the largest contributing factor to a happy healthy boy; is a caring, attentive, self sacrificing mother – luckily for Landon, Rhiannon is all of these things and a barrel more. I am constantly amazed at her selfless devotion to our son, it forces me to love her more than I imagined possible. And now tomorrow I am faced with the daunting task of impressing upon her just how tremendously incredible she is as a mother to our son. Truthfully, I haven’t got a chance.

Landon’s grandfather Sharp got in an accident riding his Harley today, on the way back from a bike ride to Monterey. Apparently he took a turn too fast and slid out, breaking his right foot in the process. Fortunately, other than probably a good sized ding to his ego, he is in good shape. I always have, and always will be wary of motorcycles. I’m sure that riding them is a great thrill, but I really don’t see the reward outweighing the risk. Landon could have easily lost a grandfather today, without really getting the chance to know him, all because he wanted to be ‘free’ on the open road. Maybe I’m just getting old and conservative - I may have Landon in a helmet by the time he starts to walk.

2004-04-27T21:33:00.000-07:00

April 27th, 2004

There has been a lot of talk revolving around conspiracy theories the last few days. Conspiracies involving the government and 9/11, conspiracies about new babies, conspiracies about the sky being blue. Well, I have recently discovered another conspiracy as a father, perhaps not quite as globally relevant, but a conspiracy none the less. This conspiracy involves a secret partnership, much like the rumored bond between big oil conglomerates and car companies. This relationship however is at a more personal and tauntingly conspicuous level – especially for guys like me, recently indoctrinated into the world of fatherhood. It involves baby clothes and whatever corporations out there that are involved in snap production.

Baby clothes utilize incredibly miniscule amounts of fabric to create cute little outfits for newborn babies to wear. Conversely however, these tiny fragments of clothing are loaded with snaps – more snaps per square unit of clothing than any other garment on the market – several times over. If adults wore clothes with a similar ratio of snaps to fabric, gravity would render us unable to take more than a few arduous steps. What makes this overuse of snaps more frustrating is the fact that these snaps are so diminutive that they take large daddy fingers painstaking minutes to close each individual snap – more often than not while a writhing infant kicks and fusses over the new layer of clothing being strapped onto their gentle frame. After wasting what seems like hours of my life struggling with endless lines of snaps I have concluded that a secret pact must exist between these two entities – the baby clothing industry and the snap manufacturers. There is simply no other way to explain this gratuitous usage of snaps. I imagine that there must be mob connections involved or something of the like – and this mob must definitely be comprised of either women with dainty fingers, or childless men, either way they obviously stand unsympathetic to the plight of the new father.

2004-04-26T20:23:00.000-07:00

April 26th, 2004

Well I did it - I managed to survive my first full day alone with Landon. Rhiannon ventured back to the work force today, so to ease her transition from stay-at-home-mom back to go-to-work-mom, I took the day off to take care of our son. I am happy to report that I am still alive, and relatively unscathed.

Last week on Thursday and Friday I worked out on Catalina Island, and so spent the first night away from my new family. It was harder than I expected, and I missed them quite a bit, but luckily we worked hard, and fished even harder (I caught my first two white seabass 23 and 27lbs respectively!) and that made the night alone on my coworker’s floor go by a little faster. When I returned in the middle of the night Friday I was wiped out and so spent most of Saturday recovering.

Sunday, Landon was pretty much a train wreck all day. I’m not sure if it was the incredibly unseasonably warm weather, or just some newborn growing pains, but he was an ornery little devil all day long. The number one thought racing through my head was, “How will I survive tomorrow if he acts even half as crabby?” I tried to get as much sleep last night in preparation for today, the key word being ‘tried’ since I didn’t sleep that well and instead woke up tired.

Today though, Landon was a blessing. We woke up around 7:30; I gave the kid a bath which he continues to enjoy more than just about everything. It cracks me up every time he shoots a little golden fountain straight up into the tub. We then hung out on his changing table where he got ready for the day. After a bath, Landon is all smiles on the table, giggling and grinning as Dad fumbles his way through diapers and onesies and little tiny socks. We then took Dakota out for some fetch and settled down for a mid morning nap. Rhiannon called shortly thereafter pleading to see if we could make a brief appearance at her school during her break. Of course we were happy to oblige. Afterwards we returned home for more napping, and another bottle full of milk. We spent the afternoon outside on a blanket, staring up at the wind controlled pattern of leaves that danced on limbs above us. More giggles also were heard. We then took a long walk with Dakota around the lake; I think I came dangerously close to overheating Landon once again. Upon our return I stripped him down to a diaper and cranked on the air conditioner, and we played around on the couch with a little soccer ball/rattle. Before we realized it, the back gate opened and in popped Rhiannon beaming with anticipation to hold her son.

It was actually quite enjoyable spending the day with Landon. He is quickly developing a personality, and growing as an individual, which is so rewarding to observe and participate in.

2004-04-20T20:36:00.000-07:00

Being a father seems to suck time away at every angle, as can be exemplified by the decreasing frequency of my posts. This post was initially started on Sunday night, but required close to 48 more hours to complete. Perhaps my slow typing is partially to blame.

April 18th, 2004

Ugh, I got pretty sick this past week. Wednesday night I noticed that after a long day at work that culminated in the final release of a large group of fish involved in a year long research project, I had a fairly decent scratch in the back of my throat. That night I tossed and turned excessively, each waking moment spent realizing that the scratch was slowing growing stronger and more painful. I went to work the next morning, and trudged through a miserable day that saw a steady decline in my health and spirits. By early afternoon I surrendered to the pain and headed for home. I struggled to move my head to scan for cars in the other freeway lanes, my head hurt terribly; any movement resulted in a throbbing that matched well the aches and chills that sprinted up and down my frame. And forget about my throat, it had long since failed to operate. I arrived home, had some udon noodles and went to bed with a fever of 102ºF. For obvious reasons I was not allowed to get near Landon, this hurt worse than all of my physical symptoms combined.

Friday morning brought more of the same, so I took the day of work and suffered on the couch downstairs. Rhiannon calls me a wimp when I get sick, and to some extent she’s probably right, I pride myself on not getting sick often, but when I do its often difficult to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Friday will be remembered as another lousy day of no contact with my son.

The number one thought and concern I had trumpeting again and again across my sick skull concerned Landon getting sick. Not only would I feel absolutely terrible if I was responsible for Landon’s first infection, but I also began to dwell on what it must feel like to be ill for the very first time. As I lay there, achy and uncomfortable, I at least could blame the virus or bacteria that were ravaging my insides, all the while my immune system extending a strong defensive counter-assault to quell the invading pathogens. For Landon or any baby for that matter, experiencing sickness initially must be incredibly vexing. One morning the sun rises as always and warm milk and smiles fill your day, the next morning the sun rises and new feelings of soreness and chills and fever take over. The change must be so blaringly unavoidable, and at the same time so unexplainable. I can’t imagine the confounding frustration. I hope Landon never gets sick.

By Saturday morning I started to feel myself again, definitely enough to venture out as a family with Rhiannon and Landon. We planned to head to the swap meet, but rain clouds threatened, so instead we headed to a nearby mall – an outdoor mall, and sure enough, we weren’t there more than 10 minute and the rain began to fall. We were completely unprepared, underdressed, and yet somehow undeterred, so we plowed ahead with our mission to spend some time outside. The intelligence of this decision obviously comes into question considering that I was still recovering, and Landon is only a fresh eight weeks of age, but we had fun, and survived, and Landon felt his first few raindrops which was particularly awesome.

Saturday also represented Landon’s two month birthday, it seems like he’s been here forever. I honestly struggle to remember what my life was like before him. He’s still expanding at an incredible rate, and has finally begun to identify toys and follow them as they move across his field of vision. His smiles have increased and he has begun to laugh. He often reflects smiles that are directed toward him, like the world’s most precious mirror, every smile distributed returns with a wonderfully pure upgrade. Landon seems more and more to recognize his parent’s faces.

Monday morning required Landon to visit the doctor for his 2 month check up. I am happy to report that all is well with our son. He now weighs in at 13 pounds 2 ounces and is over 24 inches in length. He still falls in the 90th percentile for both of these statistics although he has dropped of the curve a little since his last doctor’s visit. Rhiannon and I have resigned ourselves to the fact that Landon will no longer be the number one draft pick in the NFL or NBA, his father has instead begun to eye the possibilities of fly fisherman stardom. Landon also received four vaccination shots which turned his face a frightening shade of red and filled the examination room with wails. He has rebounded well, and hopefully has already pushed the event to the deep recesses of his infantile memory.

I watched a crow consume a baby sparrow today while the young bird’s parents valiantly protested and swooped in protest toward the cloaked invader. It forced me to realize how vicious of a world we all live, and how far removed we are as a species from the life and death struggles that so definitely shaped our archetypal consciousness. It’s comforting to be able to lock the front door at night, pat the dog on the head, and fall to sleep in relative peace listening to the light snores emanating from your newborn son.

2004-04-11T22:31:00.000-07:00

April 7th, 2004

Today I took a quick spin down good ol’ memory lane. After work, a coworker (Big Wave Dave) and I fought south bound through traffic to get to the reefs of La Jolla. We were going to attend a punk show featuring NOFX and Alkaline Trio at UCSD later that evening, and so decided that a pre-show dip in the surf was called for. The problem was, as it often is - you can’t always coordinate plans with nature, and the surf gods left us staring bleakly at chopped up, wind blown waves. We drove around for over an hour but never paddled out.

The show that night was fun, although the sound inside RIMAC was offensive. The whole evening was touted as a political gathering to “Rock Against Bush”. The bands were great, the political rhetoric a little over the top, and the crowd was somewhat disinterested, but we still had a great time.

The day in general was fairly introspective; it brought back so many memories of my youth. As a kid my parents would always take us to La Jolla to go tide pooling, or fishing, or to just play in the waves. The entire area would always invoke such a sense of awe and wonderment in me then and many of these same feelings still survive today. I do strongly believe that all of these childhood excursions had a large impact on the career path I have followed, and the recreational activities I pursue today.

Being at UCSD again and driving around checking for surf ran me back through my college days as well. My last two years of college were some of the most memorable and eventful years of my life. I grew close to friends that have influenced me, and made me laugh for years following, and hopefully for many years to come. I also met my lovely wife during these years, which has brought a level of sanity and much needed balance to my life.

Basically all of these thoughts and memories came crashing down on me as I pulsed along with the rhythmic punk beats reverberating against the RIMAC gymnasium walls. Without realizing it I have grown up and yet feel like I have so much more growing up to do. I have a son, and a wife, and a shabby career. I have friends and people that count on me for love and support, just as I count on them. And did I mention that I have a son. I want the world for him, as I’m sure that all fathers do. It’s frightening and exciting and incredible to think of the impact I will have on his life – I hope it’s a positive one – I can’t explain how much I care for him. The entire night, whether I was at dinner, or the beach, or the show, the one continuous thought that I couldn’t get out of my head was Landon.

April 11th, 2004

Happy first Easter Landon! We celebrated Easter today by visiting some family, having an early supper with Rhiannon’s parents, and then watching the Padres debut in their new ballpark on national TV by blowing a three run lead in the seventh inning.

Celebrating Easter has become decidedly different that when I was younger, principally by the fact that we didn’t go to mass today. The religious prevalence of this holiday is absent, instead replaced by pastel colored eggs and a rabbit that has a propensity for hiding them. I don’t want to use this time to get deep into the cavernous space that separates Rhiannon and my different views on religion, but suffice it to say, that we don’t necessarily see eye to eye. I completely respect her beliefs, and I hope that in turn she respects mine, but the little guy that gets lost in the middle is Landon. I think Rhiannon and I have been tiptoeing around the issue for awhile now, but sooner rather than later we will need to discuss the extent religion will be present in our son’s life.

As I said earlier, I guess we’re growing up without even realizing it.

2004-04-04T21:48:00.000-07:00

April 4th, 2004

I found a new lucky rabbit’s foot – his name is Landon Wyatt. Since Landon has been conceived I have placed second in Iwan’s season long NFL pool ($250), and this weekend I won Nate’s NCAA march madness bracket ($180) and the NCAA pool at Hubbs-Sea World as well ($40). Prior to Landon’s arrival I had entered several similar pools; my net winnings from these investments tallied in at a whopping zero dollars. So taking into account this incredible shift in gambling success, Rhiannon and I have decided to pull up our roots and move to Las Vegas – we will miss all of you (if only it was that easy).

I saw Landon smile for the first time today. This was the real, genuine article; not gas induced, not an introduction to a bout of tears, but a real, happy faced, melt your heart smile that only a baby can generate. It was awesome. I will never forget it. I had to work today, even though it was Sunday, and Rhiannon wanted to sneak out to run a quick errand or two before I left her with our son. While she was out I gave the little guy a bath, which he always seems to enjoy, and afterward, while he lay on his changing table staring up at me, or at the ceiling, I can never quite be sure, his entire face lit up like candle, as a smile spread from cheek to chubby cheek. He held the smile for several seconds; it seemed like so much longer. I know it sounds cliché, but he truly looked angelic. I hope that he was smiling at me, and not the ceiling above me – I’m pretty sure he was.

As I mentioned, Landon enjoys bath time tremendously. No matter what kind of a mood he might be in the middle of, once the warm water envelopes his little toes he slips into a relaxed state. He opens his mouth to try to catch drops of water, and rolls his head back and forth in the bath. I derive such pleasure seeing the little guy experience the water. My mind immediately races forward in time to adventures spent teaching Landon to swim, and then to snorkel and dive and bodyboard and surf. Landon hasn’t visited the ocean yet, that day can’t get here soon enough.

2004-03-28T21:23:00.000-08:00

March 28th, 2003

Landon is going through an awkward stage right now, he’s losing his hair, one randomly selected patch at a time. Over the past week his hair slowly has disappeared to the point that now he posseses the hair style of a participant in a ‘hair club for men’ commercial. All of his hair has abandoned the top of his cranium, and small patches are beginning to fade away on the sides and back, if you look at him at just the right angle, you can almost make out a bulls eye pattern. The hair that is left is still pretty long and dark brown. Every morning we wake up not knowing what new look Landon will be sporting, and every morning his new hairstyles give us one extra reason to smile.

As if the hair loss wasn’t enough, Landon has also been experiencing a fairly bad case of baby acne. It has something to do with the difference in hormones that he is exposed to now since he is no longer in the womb where Rhiannon’s hormones ran rampant. The pimples began on his forehead, and slowly spread across his face until they had conquered every pore on his precious little face. They have already begun to fade away, although they did leave a permanent mark on his one month portrait. His soft baby skin has begun to return to his chubby cheeks.

Landon is also growing, which makes sense because of how much he is eating (although sometimes the amount of crap he generates seems large enough to cancel out his intake). We weighed and measured him at the hatchery the other day, as of March 27th, Landon weighs 12 lbs and in 24 inches in length. He is averaging 8 oz and a half an inch of growth every week. At this rate, he will be taller than his dad in just a few short years, and ready for the NBA by kindergarten.

A new sound has been heard around the house – Landon has begun to coo. It is the softest, sweetest, gentlest sound. Every time he emits this new vocalization Rhiannon and I anxiously look to each other to confirm what just bounced off our ear drums; another way Landon has lightened our days with increased smiles. It definitely makes the tough, crying and wailing periods easier to handle. Welcome to the ups and downs of the rollercoaster ride of a newborn.

2004-03-23T22:08:00.000-08:00

March 23rd, 2004

Another big first has occurred in Landon’s young life; and for that sake a big first for his parents as well. Last Saturday marked the first night that the Buhr’s spent the night away from home as a family. We trekked down to San Diego to spend time with family, and to visit the guy who does our taxes, so the weekend was definitely filled with some highs and lows.

The government is again going to grab money out of our already shallow pockets. The tax guy again reiterated this year that we need to invest in a house. We asked him if after having just looked over our annual income if he thought it would really be possible to purchase even a hovel in the over priced Southern California real estate market. He sheepishly nodded his head in agreement.

We had a lunchtime bbq with Andrea, and Landon’s great grandparents Sharp were also able to attend. We couldn’t have been there more than five minutes before they layered guilt all over us about the fact that almost a month had gone by since the last time they had seen their great grandson. I assured them that the time between our next visit would not be so long, and also reminded them that the freeway goes in both directions (a phrase that I find myself using frequently). Landon is a very, very popular kid.

We spent Saturday evening and most of Sunday with my parents in Poway. I lay awake for a few hours late that night, holding Landon while he stubbornly refused to fall asleep. It was a strange place to find myself in, one that I hadn’t ever imagined visiting. Here I was, holding my newborn son, in the same room I spent most of my adolescence in, staring at the same walls. Late nights spent worrying about tests, or figuring out the best way to approach the girl in my history class, have quickly warped into a time zone where I now lay awake wondering how much longer this tiny boy in my arms could possibly keep his eyes open. I guess growing up, you never really picture little events like that as a grown-up, at least I know that I never did. Landon finally fell asleep, I actually stayed awake awhile longer, thinking about how different my life is now than it was ten years ago, and wondering what the next ten years would bring.

Sunday was spent watching more NCAA basketball, and spending time with the family. My Dad and I visited a nearby nursery, and picked up a pair of poplar trees to plant over Lucy’s grave. The trees themselves were over ten feet tall, so we drove them back standing out of the wide open sliding side door on their minivan, tied in by a few strips of twine. It was a slow ride, filled with questioning stares from the cars that raced pass our slow tree convoy home. The trees looked great in the yard, and I thanked my Dadagain for allowing us to bury Lucy in such a beautiful place. His reply was that although it was probably illegal, he hoped to be buried in the yard as well someday. The statement caught me off guard; I don’t think I was ready to hear my Dad talking about is death, especially in such a straight forward manner. It ran through my head several times the rest of the day, but the more I thought about it, the more I understood. The only thing I think that he may enjoy more than his yard, are his poems, and I’m guessing he may want to be buried with some of them as well.

Justin came down later in the day as well. It was great to see him; and to watch how excited he was to see his nephew – he even asked to check out a dirty diaper, explaining that he wanted to know everything he could about the little guy. I know it’s hard for him to live so far away, and to be honest it’s hard for me to have him gone right now as well. He’s a great friend, brother and uncle.

2004-03-19T22:11:00.000-08:00

March 19th, 2004

This past week marks the unfortunate end of my extended family vacation/paternity leave, and my return to the work force. The first few days were a little disjointed, my work email held 96 unread messages, by mailbox was full of phone messages, some of them over three weeks old (those are fun calls to return), and my desk, strangely enough, was just as cluttered as I had left it. I felt like I was wading in a fast moving river, where every step is contemplated and deliberate, and slow like molasses, and every time you pick your head up the water goes rushing by so fast your eyes can hardly catch up. But I have readjusted more or less; the biggest difference that I notice now is that I am out of the office when the clock hits 4:30pm, and not a minute later, off to the freeway, racing home to see my little boy. The ride home seems twice as long.

This week also saw the return of college basketball’s year end tournament. “March Madness” has officially settled in on the television set at home, and the radio speakers in my car. Landon and I have already taken in several of the games together, although he rarely makes it to the final buzzer without dozing off.

Watching the games with Landon sitting shotgun next to me on the couch has set my mind wandering about what it might feel like to be a parent at a sporting event, watching their child compete. Last weekend we went to watch our next door neighbor Brooke compete in the championship game in her youth basketball league. The parents in attendance were so excited, and most of them cheered loudly for all of the young girls on the court. I could commiserate completely with the desire to have their child succeed; I could only imagine how gratifying it must feel to watch the look of accomplishment that spreads rapidly across after a young child’s face after they make a play contributing to the game. I doubt if anyone there even noticed the scoreboard, which was good because Brooke’s team, the Vaqueros, got annihilated. At one point in the game the Vaqueros had yet to score, and were already down by 15 points, a huge margin in a game of eight year old girls. One of Brookes teammates stole the ball, drove the court, and scored – the whole place erupted. The whole place that is, except for the opposing team’s coach, who was busy storming onto the court, blasting the referees, insisting they reverse their call, because of some defensive press violation. I guess when I said that nobody was watching the scoreboard I was wrong, because it appeared that’s all this coach cared about. After a several minute long tirade he bullied the refs into reversing the call, the points came off the board, and the little girl who scored, looked completely baffled as to why her great play, had suddenly been negated. The gymnasium erupted with jeers, but the coach looked on smugly, content that he had increased his team’s already insurmountable lead. It’s an incredibly frustrating part of youth sports, the coach who loses sight of why the kids are there in the first place, I hope to coach Landon some day, and I hope to never be that kind of poor example.

I don’t have any delusions of grandeur about Landon playing in the NCAA, his father, all stretched out barely hits the 5’10” mark, and weighs in at a soaking wet 145 lbs, but in the case that he does play in collegiate athletics, I can only imagine what a thrill it would be to watch him compete. Then again, it is probably a thrill to watch your kid do anything that they enjoy. Right now I get a kick out of watching him struggle to hold his head up and look me in the eye, while he sits on my lap. It would be great though if Landon does enjoy spending some time on a trout stream with his pops some day….a father can only hope.

2004-03-14T22:08:00.000-08:00

March 14th, 2004

A few days have past now since the first official hours were logged as solely father and son time between Landon and me. Last Friday, Rhiannon left the two of us alone so she could go and get a well deserved hair cut and style. I approached this time with trepidation, unsure of what these hours might hold, but looked forward to the time with my new son. After a sweet kiss, and with a cell phone close at hand, Rhiannon exited, and Landon and I were left blankly staring at each other.

The afternoon held limitless opportunities. We could sit on the couch and watch college basketball divisional playoffs, we could go run a few errands, we could both cry our lungs out and count down every second until Mommy returned. It was an unseasonably warm day for late winter, so we boldly decided to spend some time in the sunshine. There is a man-made lake a few blocks from our place; it seemed the perfect destination for a casual stroll, and maybe a chance to wet a line, for the first time, as a father-son team. So I bundled Landon up, and strapped him to my chest in some sort of reverse backpack contraption called a “baby bjorn”, grabbed a rod and we were off. I decided that for this first outing Dakota would have to wait at home.

The walk to the lake was absolutely perfect, the weather was outstanding, and Landon was peacefully awake, enjoying the ride. I even phoned my brother to brag about this exciting endeavor. By the time we arrived at the shoreline Landon had passed out against my chest, I tied on a lure, and made a few casts. After standing still for a few minutes, the lack of movement caught Landon’s attention and raised him from his slumber. Cries immediately ensued. However, I quickly determined that by walking again he would drift back off to sleep. So a new mode of fishing became invented, I would take a few steps, make a quick cast, and then hurriedly move again, never pausing long enough for Landon to regain alertness. It worked well, as far as keeping him placated, but the fishing side of the outing suffered. After an hour and a half of walking and casting and walking some more, I received a call that Rhiannon was on her way home, and so too decided that the walls of home beckoned for us.

It was on this return trip that I began to notice how incredibly hot I had become. While fishing, I had failed to realize that I had been walking around under the noon sun with a little, compact thermally constant biological organism. My son was in effect cooking my chest, and I too was probably overheating him.

We made it the rest of the way home uneventfully, Landon still dreaming away. I removed him from his pack, and set him down on the couch. A few moments later Rhiannon returned, just in time for the downward spiral to begin. Landon awoke, and began to cry; thinking he might be hungry (it was past his lunch time) we tried to feed him. He wailed. We walked him around the house. He screamed. We looked at each other struggling to discern what the little guy wanted. More crying. We stripped him down to a diaper and patted him with a cool washcloth. He hollered. We walked him around the block hoping the movement might quiet him down as it had previously. His unhappy vocalizations continued. We passed him back and forth for the next few hours. We shrugged our shoulders. We felt like crying. More quivering lips and wet tears.

Finally, over two hours later, he calmed down and passed out with Rhiannon, as she simultaneously crashed out to dreamland still cradling him in her quaking arms. I just stared at the walls, too wiped out too sleep, already contemplating what might happen on the next father and son outing.

2004-03-10T22:37:00.000-08:00

March 10th, 2004

Landon is slowly starting to settle into a few patterns. His day starts (if it ever really ends) around 8:00am when he wakes up for his first feeding of the day. Most of Landon’s feedings are announced by his cries ringing through the house, with the only permanent cure being a soft breast, filled with warm milk thrust in front of his face. Feeding events usually last close to thirty minutes, and are interspersed with bouts of burping. After being fed, a dirty diaper usually needs to be removed; this has the unintentional effect of reawaking Landon and gears him up for the rest of the morning. The following morning hours are usually spent going for a walk with the family, and often staring at Mom and Dad, flailing appendages wildly, while they attempt to interact with their son through “educational and meaningful” mental and physical exercises. At no time during the morning does Landon appear worn out, and at the mere placement in his bassinet he begins to wail. 11:00am rolls around, and its time to feed the bottomless pit once again. By this point Landon has been awake for several hours and his baby batteries are just about all used up, the problem is he is usually too damn tired at this point to remember where his on/off switch is, so crankiness inevitably ensues. The next hour or so ebbs and flows between Landon staring through the wall in a blank zombie like trance, and uncontrollable, chin quivering cries. Eventually the yawns succeed in their battle against the tears and Landon literally passes out. This hour is one of the most trying of the day. Once silence has finally returned, Landon enters into such a deep slumber that the family usually ventures out into the scary world that exists outside of the safety of our household walls, to take care of a few of the countless errands that get added to the list hanging on the fridge. Between 2:00 and 3:00pm Landon awakes again for another meal, and this feeding is again quickly chased away by continued napping, at times it seems like this feeding is little more than a naptime diversion for the little guy as he often crashes asleep, mouth wide open in a sea of milk and nipple. Dinner time is usually around 5:00pm, followed by a short period of play, and then the favorite, continued slumber. Mom and Dad use this break to scarf down some well needed nourishment of their own and may steal a few minutes on the computer, phone, or other much needed distraction. Sometime around 8:00pm Landon arises again, eats again, and then mirrors his parents adoring stares again. Shortly thereafter he is whisked upstairs where a warm bathtub waits. Landon genuinely seems to enjoy bath time; he appears calm and relaxed in the water, and rarely makes and uncomfortable grimace or voices concern. A dry towel then wraps him up and takes him to his changing where he is massaged, and bundled up in his pajamas for the night. We usually try to read a story to him following his bath, and then cross our fingers and hope he drifts off to sleep. Unfortunately this rarely happens. Landon for some reason unknown to us winds up the crank-wagon again in the evening. He gets fussy and uncomfortable and fights going to sleep for the next hour or so. This hour rivals the mid afternoon for the “most difficult to survive” award. Finally the urge to sleep takes over, and more often than not this takes place in the warm arms of one of his parents, its hard to let him go when he finally gets so peaceful, I hope our excessive holding him isn’t spoiling the guy. Around 11:00pm Landon rolls awake for a late night snack, and again between 2:00 and 3:00am he opens his eyes and lungs for an even later night snack. Rhiannon usually handles most of these feedings herself; while I’m sure she looks over bitterly at her snoring husband sprawled out next to her in bed. One more feeding at 5:00am, this time Landon tends to be a little more resistant to continued sleep and so Dad gets to take over calming him down while Mom tries to catch up on some rest. A quick turn of the head toward the digital alarm clock and (after an excessively long paragraph) its 8:00am all over again. (Please note that several diaper changes and burping sessions were removed for the sake of the reader).

Oh yeah, and have I mentioned lately that I still can’t even start to grasp the fact that I am a father! It is by far the most exciting and at the same time bizarre thing that has ever happened to me. I highly recommend it.

Rhiannon got a call from her Ob/Gyn, Dr. Fiorentino, yesterday, except weird thing is, he was calling to talk to me. Rhiannon handed the phone off to me with a confused expression, and slowly walked away, slow enough to pick up the first few lines of our conversation. It turns out that Dr. Fiorentino is planning on setting up a website for his practice, and when he did an online search for his name, to make sure there weren’t other Dr. Fiorentino’s out there, Streamside was churned out by his search engine. He was calling to let me know how much he enjoyed the journal, and thanks for the “plug”, as he put it. He is a real genuine guy, after talking for a brief while we hung up, and I was left thinking about him more as a person. Sometimes its nice to hear when you brighten someone’s day.

2004-03-05T21:47:00.000-08:00

March 5th, 2004

Landon is becoming more active and alert with every new day. This is definitely a double edged sword - while it’s great to spend more awake time with him, he also is requiring much more attention than the last couple of weeks. Where he used to float through the hours between his feedings asleep on his pillow, more often than not he will be awake for 3 to 4 hours at a time, and these waking hours are not all filled with giggles and soft coos. Landon’s lungs are developing well, and he seems to be finding more frequent opportunities to voice his opinion with them. I've heard it said that after awhile as a parent you can identify a baby’s needs by the sound of his cries, well, I’m not there yet. Right now I pretty much assume Landon is either hungry, or hungry, or maybe he needs a diaper change, if not that, then he’s probably hungry. I’m still trying to figure the little guy out; I think I probably always will be.

Dakota seems to be a little depressed since Lucy’s death. She is spending more time with the family downstairs, in the past she would often spend hours upstairs with the cat. She is definitely getting more attention from Rhiannon and me, I think we both feel like we took Lucy for granted a little, and we don’t want to repeat that with Dakota – this has turned into a real windfall for her resulting in increased treats and time in the park playing fetch. I think the extra time with the dog has been therapeutic for both of us as well.

Our neighbors next door have three children, Brooke (8), Hunter (6), and Josh (4). They are great kids. We’ve gone to some of their soccer, and baseball, and basketball games. We’ve gone trick or treating with them the past two Halloweens. I was talking to their mother, Tiffany, the other day, and she informed me that all of the kids had been spying from their upstairs window on my birthday get together with friends last Saturday night . The next morning Hunter stumbled downstairs and reported to his parents that, “Gabe had a log in his mouth last night, and it was on fire!” I didn’t realize that smoking a cigar could turn me into a wizard and a bad influence all at once; in the future I’ll have to be a little more aware of what audiences I might have. This will especially be true with Landon, its good to have neighbors that can run us through some pre-season drills.

2004-03-02T23:17:00.000-08:00

March 1st, 2004

Today Rhiannon, Landon, Dakota and I all bundled up and drove down to my parent’s house in Poway. They have a large yard of almost an acre and on it exists some of the more lush and diverse landscaping I have seen. My parents are somewhat eclectic folks, and this is definitely reflected in their yard. They have hundreds of various trees, shrubs, bushes and flowers. So when Rhiannon suggested we bury Lucy there, I couldn’t think of a more fitting resting place for our loved little feline, and we could definitely plant something in her memory that could then be a part of the wonderful forest that grows within my parent’s fence.

My parents were both present for some of the afternoon. My Dad showed me where I could dig Lucy’s grave; my Mom spent some time with Rhiannon, and watched Landon while we got things ready. It took close to 2 hours to dig the grave 3 feet deep, thanks in large part to the 18 inches of clay I had to scrape my way through. Interesting enough though, I found the whole grave digging process somehow cathartic. It gave me some time to be alone to think about Lucy, and to also exert some physical exercise toward the positive goal of giving her a fitting final resting place. I definitely walked away from the experience feeling better. We buried Lucy after a few quiet words were said, and vowed to plant a poplar tree over he grave. We left a flower over her, and eerily I noticed upon returning home, that the flower we selected looked strikingly similar to the painting that hangs on a wall in Lucy’s room (our downstairs bathroom).

March 2nd, 2004

This afternoon was Landon’s first official visit to his pediatrician. Dr. Mackey is a young doctor with a quiet and somewhat jovial bedside manner, he actually reminded Rhiannon and I both of our college friend Kevin who also is now a pediatrician. Landon is doing famously; he weighed and measured in above the 90th percentile compared to newborns his age. All of Rhiannon’s numerous questions and concerns were patiently listened to and reassuredly answered. It felt good to hear that all is going well.

Before we left, while I was downstairs folding laundry, Rhiannon screamed from upstairs, “Oh my God! Get up here fast! I need help!” I freaked out and flew up the stairs wondering what terrible thing had just happened to my son. Ever since Sunday night I have been extremely on edge and scared about how delicate Landon is, so as I headed up the stairs I assumed the worst. Their in the rocking chair sat Rhiannon, holding our son after changing him, with a big pile of fresh baby shit in her lap. Apparently she had finished cleaning him up, put on a new diaper, and sat down in the rocking chair to calm him down, when another round of yellow, baby, wonderpoo escaped out of the back of his newly applied diaper. Suffice it to say that this was not the emergency I had envisioned. I helped clean the two of them up, then left the room so that my heart might stop racing. I explained to Rhiannon how she had freaked me out, and begged her to reserve such screams for help for actual emergencies. It literally took me hours to calm back down.

After another day of accomplishing little and falling on the couch fatigued by the end of the day, we have affectionately nicknamed Landon the “Black Hole”. No matter how hard we try to avoid it, he manages to suck up and obliterate all the hours in the day. I am still trying to figure out where the minutes from 5:30 to 8:30 went this afternoon.

2004-03-02T18:57:00.000-08:00

Birthday Weekend February 27th – 29th, 2004

This past weekend was a busy one as we continued to celebrate Landon’s arrival, as well as occasionally remember that Saturday was my 29th birthday; one year to go until thirty which is a little scary.

Friday night we visited with Rhiannon’s parents at their place. Rhiannon’s grandparents, Landon’s great grandparents Alonzo came to spend a little time with Landon as well. The Alonzos played a big part in Rhiannon’s childhood. Rhiannon’s mother had her at a very young age, and already had Andrea a year prior, I can assuredly state that both girls would not have developed into such strong women today without the early help they had while growing up with their grandparents. I’m sure in some ways the Alonzos view Rhiannon and Andrea more as daughters than as grandchildren. This becomes immediately apparent when observing their reactions with Landon as well. They are so excited about the little guy. Landon was a little fussy this evening, and his great granddad Alonzo sang him a Mexican lullaby that his mother (Landon’s great, great grandmother) used to sing him. To see this big, Mexican, WWII veteran sing to such a little child with such warmth and obvious affection was amazing. Landon stopped crying almost immediately.

Saturday was a big day. We had plans to have quite a few of our close friends over to meet Landon, and even more importantly, my brother Justin was flying down from San Francisco to meet his nephew for the first time. He was also bringing his new girlfriend Jenn along, they would be spending the night with us at our place, which I hoped would give Rhiannon and I the chance to get to know Jenn a little better.

I picked Justin and Jenn up from the airport around 11:30; we grabbed some lunch and hurried home so that Justin and Landon could get to know each other a little before the rest of the gang arrived. Landon had been awake most of the morning and was pretty fussy when I left for the airport. He is currently going through a phase where occasionally he will stay up for three or four hours at a time, which is a long period for a child that is only a few weeks old. At the end of these awake periods he becomes quite cranky and refuses to rest. The frustrated look on his face almost seems like he has become so geared up and wiped out that he has forgotten how to relax enough to fall asleep. Eventually after some fitful bawling he crashes out, but avoiding these situations has become a new goal around the house. As we returned from the airport Landon was finally settling down from one of these sessions so we decided it would be best if Justin observed Landon asleep for the time being, they could get some uncle – nephew face time a little later.

Our friends began to arrive between shortly after 2:00. Eryn, Heather, Adam and Diana showed up first, shortly followed by Norm and Teri. Rhiannon brought Landon downstairs shortly thereafter and introduced him to everyone. He was still passed out from the morning’s episode, so he slept quite soundly as he was passed from lap to lap. It was entertaining to watch just about everyone fumble around with how to handle the little guy, excluding Norm and Teri I don’t think any of our guests had much experience with newborns. Uncle Justin was especially comical as Landon kind of just slouched down into a pile in his lap, with his head cocked awkwardly to one side. He improved his nephew holding techniques drastically by the end of the weekend.

The rest of the gang filtered in over the next few hours, Iwan and Sara, the Reynolds crew (Ben, Leslie, Nate, Melissa, and little Jay), Becky, Kalia and Zach, Dave, and Chad and his new girlfriend Shawna. One interesting thing about the dynamics of our friends is that aside from Jay and Dave we have all pretty much coupled off, and most of our friends are now either married or in long term, committed relationships. I guess we’re all growing up and getting old without even realizing it.

Out of this group of friends we are the second couple to have a child, and the Yarris clan, with their son Jacob lives in Portland, so this afternoon was a chance for a lot of the crew to catch a first glimpse at the world of parenting firsthand. Plenty of questions were asked concerning sleep deprivation, labor events, changes in body morphology (these mostly revolved around Rhiannon’s obviously swollen chest), and general inquiries into what it was like to have a son. Unfortunately for some of these questions a verbal response is incredibly inadequate. Ben and Leslie are expecting their first child in August, so I think for them this was an especially rewarding experience. It was fun to watch them hold Landon, and see the excitement on there faces as they realized that in the not too distant future they would be cuddling a child of their own. Landon was well behaved the entire afternoon and evening, he must have coordinated all of his fussiness to be released in the morning which was very considerate of him.

We ordered several pizzas, tipped a few beers, and ended the night toasting Landon over a poker table and cigars. It was a great day, one of the best birthdays I can remember (perhaps because I can’t remember all of my birthdays). I feel really fortunate to have so many close friends at this stage in my life. I am surrounded my so many supportive and positive people, I can only hope that Landon will be so lucky. I know that all of these friends will influence Landon just was positively as they all have influenced my life. Cheers.

Sunday my parents drove up with my grandmom to continue the birthday/Landon celebration further. We went out to lunch at a Mexican restaurant down the street, and then reconvened at our house for some relaxed time together as a family. My mom is so excited to be a grandmother it cracks me up, before we even took 2 steps across the restaurant’s parking lot she came rushing up, anxious to view her sleeping grandson. The first poems for Landon were produced by my dad, they were good, I still teeter on being fairly emotional from becoming a father myself, at least one of his poems caused me to get a little choked up. It was great to share the same room with my parents, brother, wife and son for the first time; hopefully it will be a preview for the years ahead. Hugs were exchanged, and plans were made to see Justin again at the end of March, and the house emptied out for the last time that weekend.

Rhiannon, Landon and I were all wiped out so we raced upstairs with dog and cat in tow to take a much needed nap as a family.

2004-02-29T23:32:00.000-08:00

Its been a very eventful weekend with a very unfortunate end, I hope to post about everything else that happened soon, but tonight's events seem to take precedence right now.

February 29th 2004

It is 10:30pm right now as I write this, our cat, Lucy, died less than 3 hours ago. I must’ve said this already to Rhiannon a hundred times, but it literally is the weirdest thing ever, it doesn’t seem real. It definitely hasn’t set in yet that she actually died. The house seems like its missing something already.

I woke up from a nap a few hours ago; the whole family was all recovering from a long weekend together upstairs. Rhiannon ad I next to each other in bed, Landon in his bassinet, Dakota under the bed, and Lucy curled up in a ball on my feet. I scratched the dog for a few minutes, and then went over to the computer. A short while later, I watched Lucy, lying on her side at the edge of our bed, lazily start to roll over. She rolled right off the bed and landed on the floor on her back, the drop is maybe three feet long. I must admit that I laughed a little at her fall, it seemed innocently comical initially. She bounced up, flopped around violently under the computer desk for a few seconds and then lay awkwardly on the floor. I scooped her up and gently set her on the bed, Rhiannon at this point was awake from all of the commotion, and Dakota had become quite interested as well. Lying on the bed her rear leg jutted out at a weird angle, she uttered a few pathetic cries, exhaled twice over a tongue that lay halfway out of her mouth, and died. She died there, with Rhiannon and me petting her, thinking maybe she hurt her leg, or was just scared from the fall. The whole sequence of events took no more than 30 seconds. It was awful, I don’t know how else to describe it. I even tried performing CPR on her.

I should preface all of his by stating that when it comes to being a dog or a cat person, I definitely lean far more on the side of the slobbery, tail wagging canines. Lucy was an exception; she was a very unique cat. Lucy was a small grey tabby, without a spot of white on her, she looked a lot like a wild cat might. She was tiny , I doubt she weighed much more than five or six pounds, even though we did jokingly refer to her as gato gordo (fat cat) over the past few months since it looked like she had gained a little extra weight. She was a young cat, she was only five and a half year’s old, I bought her as a present for Rhiannon’s 22nd birthday. To state it clearly, Lucy was the coolest cat ever. I don’t think I’ll want another cat again simply because they won’t be Lucy.

Lucy loved to play fetch. She would chase gum wrappers, wads of paper, plastic rings, and of course her little mouse that would always end up in the strangest places around the house. Every night, Lucy would crawl under the covers, and fall asleep in the crook of my arm. She kept the cricket population way down inside our house. She was an extremely shy cat, most people never saw her and got to experience how much fun she really was. When we went on vacation last year, our neighbor said the only way she new we had a cat was that the food in her bowl would disappear.

I’ve never watched a pet die before my eyes, and never thought something like this could occur so rapidly and unexpectedly. Lucy was a very healthy cat, for all that I can figure she probably had a heart attack when she hit the ground, either that or she broke her neck, although the latter seems unlikely since she was still moving some muscles as she passed. Whatever happened - happened quickly.

I have so many different thoughts right now. I’m sad that Landon will never get to play with her, she would’ve been a great cat for him to snuggle with. I’m upset that she died so unexpectedly and so stupidly – who dies from falling off of a bed?! I’m comforted by the fact that she didn’t die alone, but I wonder what those last few moments must’ve been like for her. Another part of me is frustrated that I had to watch the whole thing; it is a very disturbing final memory to have of such a good friend.

The other thing that this has done is bring into too clear of focus just how fragile life is. I can’t believe that a limber, energetic cat could die in such a manner. It freaks me out to look at Landon and realize how tremendously delicate and defenseless he is. All night I have been holding him a little tighter, listening to his breathing patterns so intently.

2004-02-26T15:53:00.000-08:00

Alright, I think that this post pretty much brings things back up the present, now how long I can stay caught up is another question altogether.

February 20th – 24th, 2004

Saturday evening my parents and Grandmom drove up from Poway. The visit ended up being unfortunately short since it was bracketed between two feedings for Landon, but it was still great to see my family. Sometimes it seems that all I ever do now is bracketed between Landon’s meals, and typically those meals are only 3 hours apart, so getting things done is quickly becoming a challenge. Its amazing how fast the day disappears on a schedule like that, if we get one thing accomplished right now I consider the day a success, and one thing can encompass things as minute as a doctor’s appointment or a trip to the post office. I am sure that this will improve as the family adjusts to this new schedule. One nice thing though, is that it appears that Landon is already adjusting to sleeping more at night, and in turn letting his parents sleep more as well. Typically I’m walking away with at least six hours of sleep a night, who knows how long that will continue, I probably just jinxed myself pretty good.

So back to Saturday night. This was the first time that my Dad had held his grandson. It was great to see the love in his eyes for the little guy, I’m sure a flood of new poems are on the way. My Grandmom also met Landon for the first time. She is an amazing woman, she is now 92 years old, and firmly resides as the matriarch of our family. She looked so pleased to hold her newest great grandson; I only wish my Grandad was there to share the experience with her.

Rhiannon and I also had our greatest diaper changing calamity to date while my parents were visiting. Landon not only mustered up enough shit to fill a diaper well beyond its carrying capacity, but he also managed to launch a golden shower directly into Rhiannon’s face during the changing process. All the while my Dad looked on with the biggest grin on his face. I guess that karma does exist.

Sunday evening we went over to Rhiannon’s parents and visited with them, as well as with Rhiannon’s sister Andrea and her new husband Rick. We visited for several hours, and I am sure that Landon never touched the ground or any cushions or his bed – he was in somebody’s arms the entire time. I don’t know if a newborn can be held too much, but if that is possible I’m sure we will find out with Landon.

While at the Sharp’s, Landon also launched his first successful projectile vomit. Right after Rhiannon had finished feeding him I decided it would be cool to strike a few poses reminiscent of the scene from the Lion King where little Simba gets held out in the air for all of the animal kingdom to see. In hindsight this was probably a poor choice, for not moments after I handed him back to his mom, I heard a loud splat as his evening dinner came flying back out of his mouth and onto the hard wood floor below. Oops.

Monday was a very mellow day which was nice. Landon continues to sleep well. The big event today was a walk to the lake near our condo. The whole family ventured out and we decided to sit on a bench by the lake for a short rest and to enjoy the view. Dakota used this opportunity to find some fresh duck shit, still moist from the rains the night before, and use it to give her a full-body shit bath. She smelled incredible. Landon didn’t seem to mind at all, I’m sure in a few years he will be rolling around right next to his tail wagging pal.

We took Landon to get his first official portrait taken on Tuesday to celebrate his first week on the planet. He slept through most of the affair, which was nice since he was being poked and prodded this way and that like he was some sort of doll. I know I hate being told to drop my chin 2 inches to the left and to open my eyes up wide, and to smile at the camera… I can only imagine what it must feel like to be physically placed in all of these various positions without any personal control. Like I said, I was glad to see him sleep through most of it, and the pictures did turn out good which I guess in some small way made the torture worth it.

Tuesday evening the big, black, crusty mess that represented the remnants of Landon’s umbilical cord finally fell off. Now I won’t be as scared to tickle his cute little belly. The cord remnants which were about the size of a peach pit fell squarely into Rhiannon’s cleavage while she was feeding the tyke. Lets just say she wasn’t too pleased.

February 25th, 2004

Today we went to see a lactation nurse to make sure that Landon is getting all of the milk and nutrition he needs. Nursing is a black box operation, since breasts aren’t transparent, at least not Rhiannon’s, its hard to know exactly how much food the little guy is pulling out. Rhiannon was nervous that he wasn’t feeding long enough, and therefore wasn’t receiving enough milk. At this point, Landon seems healthy, so more that anything we went for reassurance that all was going well.

The nurse was very impressed with both Landon and Rhiannon. She put Landon on the scale and he now weighs in at 10lbs 2oz – he has now officially joined the double digit weight club, a club whose current members include Emmanuel Lewis and Laura Flynn Boyle to name a few. According to the lactation nurse he feeds, “like a barracuda”, which I enjoyed because of the fish reference, although I would have preferred something more along the likes of, “he sucks like a trout drunk on mayflies.”

Rhiannon also received a number of accolades from the lactation nurse. When she discovered that Rhiannon had given birth to such a large child naturally, she referred to her as a “remarkable woman” and then later, at the end of our visit she called her a “miraculous woman” as well. I am sure that I have never been labeled miraculous in any context. It’s got to feel good, and I have to admit, that I agree with the nurse’s description completely.

Tonight, Landon began to develop an eye infection, although he seems to be pretty unfazed by it, the yellow stalactites that hang across his eyes give me the creeps. A quick call to the doctor and we now have some eye drops to administer 3 times a day for the next 5 days, which is the good news, the more difficult part of this equation is actually administering an eye drop into the eyes of a newborn who more often than not is sleeping or scrunching his eyes closed for various reasons. It’s difficult to do something to your son that you know may inflict some pain, but that in the long run will help him heal or produce other beneficial results. I’m guessing that this is a recurring theme throughout fatherhood, but it doesn’t make holding his eye open and applying the drops any easier.

2004-02-24T21:56:00.000-08:00

Please bear with me, I'm still trying to catch up with the events from last week, hopefully one or two more posts, and I'll be back to living in the present.

February 18th, 2004

I woke up this morning to the sound of our nurse coughing in our room; it was unbelievably already 8:30am, meaning that I had spent my first night as a dad raking in at least 5 hours of sleep. I couldn’t believe it. Rhiannon asked if I had heard the baby’s cries from the previous night, I replied that I hadn’t, and how stoked I was about our well behaved boy. Much to my surprise she informed me that Landon had been up for close to an hour wailing away between 3:00 and 4:00 in the morning. She said I didn’t budge the whole time. I asked her why she didn’t wake me up, and she said she didn’t think she could. I quickly jumped to the surfer’s ear defense. I have a pretty bad case of surfer’s ear, especially in my left ear – surfer’s ear is the growth of calcareous nodules in your ear canal as the body responds to cold air and water from the outside world – conditions one would likely find sitting on a surfboard in mid January, something I’ve done since my adolescence. Anyway, if I sleep on my right ear, with only my left ear exposed, I really don’t hear much at all, I don’t hear our dog Dakota bark, I don’t hear the phone ring, and apparently I don’t hear our baby cry. The fact that the previous day had been such a whopper probably didn’t help much either.

Today was a chance for the family to come and see the baby – and they did, here is a list of when and who visited, just to give an idea of the enormity of it all:

10:00 – 2:00 Aunt Andrea
10:30 – 12:30 Cousin Heather
11:00 – 2:00 Great Grandparents Sharp
11:30 – 2:00 Grandma Sharp
12:30 – 1:30 Jenna Schoen
3:00 – 4:00 Carlene Corpus
6:00 – 8:00 Grandparents Sharp
7:00 – 8:30 Grandmom Buhr
7:30 – 8:00 Great Aunt Mary

And chances are good I’ve forgotten somebody. Don’t get me wrong, it was great to share Landon with everybody, but it was a little overwhelming at times. Rhiannon’s grandparents were especially excited; they have no male grandchildren, and all of their grandkids are girls, so the fact that their first great-grandson was a boy increased their elation ten-fold.

During a break in the action in the afternoon, I crawled into the hospital bed with Rhiannon and Landon, and together we read our son his first story. It was entitled “On the Day You Were Born” by Debra Frasier. Up to this point I had kept most of my emotions in check, but for some reason, this event brought on the water works. I had to stop reading several times to wipe the tears off my face, I was glad to look over and see Rhiannon going through the same thing. I think more than anything it was a momentous wave of reality that hit me, realizing that here I was holding my wife, holding our son. The previous day wasn’t a dream after all.

It rained most of the day today. I showed Landon the raindrops and told him they were good for trout streams. He might have smiled.

Our nurse that evening was Comala. She was an incredibly tall Indian woman, with long salt and pepper hair and a thick accent. I think Rhiannon and I were both a little wary of her at first, but she ended up being a tremendous nurse. Landon had a pretty tough evening, so her support was definitely needed. Between the late afternoon and early evening Landon received his first shot (a Hepatitis B vaccination), PKU tests (where they basically bleed the heck out of his little heel to test for several diseases), and got his unit cut on (circumcision). He is a remarkably resilient baby, after each of these potentially traumatizing experiences he rebounded quickly and was back off to dreamland in a matter of minutes. Through it all Comala was there to explain everything, and to reassure us what a perfect little baby boy we had. She also helped Rhiannon with some nursing tips, answered questions we had about the circumcision and its care, and in general really seemed to take great pleasure in assisting us.

Embarrassed as I am to admit it, we ended the night falling asleep watching the O.C.

February 19th, 2004

This morning Rhiannon received a visit from Dr. Fiorentino, and Landon received a visit from one of the pediatricians in his doctor’s practice. Both patients received clean bills of health. We got our walking papers, and after probably the most eventful 48 hours of our lives, we were discharged from the hospital and free to go home.

I was definitely pumped at the idea of getting back to the comfortable and quiet walls of our home, but I must acknowledge that I did leave the hospital with some trepidation. At St. Joseph’s we had a fully trained staff of medical professionals to assist us, if the baby wasn’t eating – push the magic button, if the baby hiccupped for what seemed like forever – push the magic button, if something that suddenly appeared in the baby’s diapers looked a little strange – push the magic button. I left the hospital feeling pretty sure that we hadn’t gotten around to installing a magic button at home. It made this whole parenting experience take on a far more responsibility laden slant. Rhiannon and I were now completely responsible for our son’s health and well being, it seemed like such an ominous burden.

Once home, we had Rhiannon’s Mom bring back over our dog, we were pretty nervous figuring that Dakota's response to our family’s new addition was a completely unknown variable. Her response was unexpected. Dakota came through the door, tail wagging, briefly she said hello to Rhiannon and I, gave one quick lick to Landon’s face, and then went about her normal routine, eventually crawling under our bed upstairs.

Rhiannon's sister Andrea ordered an eight foot high stork to be delivered to the outside of our house that would announce Landon's arrival. I wasn't exactly sure how gawky or obnoxious it might be, but it turned out to be pretty cool. Not only did it help delivery men find where to take the cookie bouquets and baby presents, but it also served as a sign, a large, impossible to miss sign, that the Buhr's had a new addition to their family.

It felt great to sleep in our room that night, listening to Landon’s little gurgles floating out of the bassinette at the side of the bed.

2004-02-23T14:14:00.000-08:00

On February 17th, 2004 I became a father for the first time. In the following journal I will attempt to describe some of the feelings and experiences I encounter during this new float called fatherhood. The first few posts may be a little long winded, but its been a long week. I'm just trying to keep my head above water.

*********************************************************************

February 17th, 2004

Rhiannon and I were scheduled to check in at the hospital at 5:45am for her induction, that didn't leave a lot of time for sleeping the night before, but as it turned out we didn't get much sleep anyway. Nerves and anticipation kept us awake more than anything. I think that Rhiannon being induced made things more uncomfortably nerve wracking than they needed to be. Over the last day or so anyway, patience was hard to come by, this probably had something to do with the fact that throughout the last 9 months you have a rough due date on when your little bundle of joy is coming, but nothing is set in stone, there is no official deadline. Maybe its too many over-dramatized TV and movie representations of what going into labor is supposed to be like, but I was prepared to be caught off guard and be swept up in a mad tornado dash to the hospital; not to spend the night prior to going to the hospital staring awake at the ceiling, knowing that if all went well, by this time tomorrow I would be a father. That anticipation seemed to be far worse than the tornado - too many slow minutes spent thinking, "am I really ready to be a father?"

We got to the hospital on time and checked into our delivery room, we were a little bummed to be placed in one of the older rooms at St. Joseph's, most of this wing of the hospital had been remodeled, just not our room, but plenty of happy babies had already been delivered in this room, so we figured it was as good as any. Our first nurse was Connie. Connie was a Filipino woman with a heavy accent and not enough sleep the night before. She was working the 7pm to 7am shift, so we caught her with just under an hour left in her shift. She was difficult to have a conversation with, and kept asking us to repeat things again and again. We were relieved when her shift ended an hour later. Before she left, Connie attached an I.V. to Rhiannon, and began her induction. The induction involved the slow administration of a drug called Pitosin. Pitosin is a chemical analog for the hormone Oxytocin which naturally starts labor in women. The drawback to induction is that Pitosin brings on contractions much quicker and more intense than in natural labor, so we were both a little apprehensive (Rhiannon more than me) about what this was going to be like.

Rhiannon was pretty nervous at this time anyway, I think the eminent prospect of labor, and the unknown quantity that it comprised was becoming very real for her at this point. I found it very interesting that during Rhiannon's pregnancy, she again and again had complete strangers approach her, and then quickly share their personal horror stories involving labor. "My labor was 40 hours long, my cousin had her baby in the hospital elevator, I tore from hole to hole, etc". No stranger approached with stories of how easy labor was, although I'm sure these events do exist. All of this didn't help Rhiannon's nerves when the big day finally did arrive. Luckily she does have several friends at her school that have recently had children, so they were able to counteract some of this pre labor negativity with positive stories of their own.

Rhiannon was scheduled to be induced only 3 days after her due date because she was measuring excessively large for her stage of pregnancy. The doctor couldn't rule out that this was due to excess amniotic fluid, but the possibility that she could be growing some sort of monster in her belly caused the scheduling of this early induction (women are routinely induced 10 - 14 days after their due date). Basically the concern was that if the baby got much bigger, Rhiannon wouldn't be able to pass the infant naturally and would require a C-section. As we would find out later, it was a good thing the doctor acted when he did.

At 7am our new nurse Marsha arrived. Marsha was wonderful, and honestly I couldn't imagine a better nurse for the two (three) of us. She was an older nurse, but she had a very young spirit. She seemed to be full of experience, she had a great sense of humor with plenty of sarcasm, and more than anything else, she seemed to possess a genuine care for her patients. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and set both of us at ease. Marsha was a bit flighty at times; she would often ask us what she had just said, or what she had come into the room to do, but if anything this made me feel a little more valuable during the day, reminding her what Rhiannon's temperature was, or that she had come into the room to change the I.V. bag. Perhaps all of this was just a bedside trick of Marsha's to relax fathers to be, whether it was or not, it certainly worked for me.

After being checked in, and the induction process started, basically we began playing the waiting game. Rhiannon wore a monitor that recorded the baby's heartbeat, as well as a monitor that charted her contractions. Every hour the amount of Pitosin delivered was increased, with the goal of getting her contractions to becoming stronger and more frequent. I should mention at this point, that for the past several weeks Rhiannon had been experiencing mild contractions regularly throughout the day - so when Marsha came in check on Rhiannon and mentioned that she was, "really banging out the contractions," Rhiannon's response was that her contractions and pain were no different now than they had been for the past few weeks. At this point Rhiannon was having mild contractions every 2 minutes, and was dilated 2cm.

Sometime between 8:30am and 9:00am both of our parents, and Andrea, Rhiannon's sister showed up. They entered the delivery room unannounced, which was a little disconcerting since we had asked them to wait and be invited in, but luckily Rhiannon was dressed and comfortable at the time. I could sympathize with their excitement, and curiosity, and we were both glad to see their smiling supportive faces. This after all was not only our first child, but also a first grandchild as well. Both of out mothers had faces wet with tears. After some warm hugs and words of encouragement I escorted the family to the waiting room, where they awaited updates (sometimes patiently) throughout the day.

Our doctor, Dr. Randy Fiorentino, arrived sometime in the next hour to check on Rhiannon, and to break her water. Dr. Fiorentino is a great doctor, he is young, humorous, and has two young kids of his own. He is also a big man at probably close to 6' 4" and 200 some pounds. He checked Rhiannon's progress, at this stage she was now between 3 and 4cm dilated. To break her water, the doctor inserted a long plastic hook into Rhiannon that would rupture her amniotic fluid. Up to this point, this was definitely the most pain that Rhiannon has experienced. I sat on the side lines, holding her clenched hand and watching the grimaces ebb and flow across her face. The water itself literally sounded like a bucket of water being dumped down the end of the bed. I'll admit, I wanted to make a trout stream joke, I wisely decided that now was not he time.

Once her water was broken, the progress of labor accelerated very quickly; and with it came more intense and frequent contractions. This was the stuff you see on TV, contractions so painful that sitting, standing, breathing, even blinking becomes painful. It was also the first time I felt really integral in this whole process, sure I did some menial things previously, but at this stage of labor I felt like Rhiannon actually needed me their to help her through each contraction. She practiced what little breathing techniques we came away with from our birthing class, she chewed up a million ice chips, and she watched the door longingly, every time it opened, hoping that the anesthesiologist would be the next one through the door. I should probably also mention the fact that the woman in the delivery room next to us was experiencing uncontrollable and explosive diarrhea throughout her labor, this kept Marsha fairly occupied, but it also gave me the chance to point out to Rhiannon that things could be worse. The anesthesiologist did eventually come, about an hour and a half after her water was broken. He too was excellent, he cracked a few quick jokes, and before we knew it Rhiannon was well on her way to a medicated bliss. The epidural itself is simply a large needle that is inserted into the outer sheath of the spinal column, and slowly releases an anesthetic that keeps her body numb from the chest south to her feet.

Within about 20 minutes Rhiannon could hardly feel the contractions at all, and we decided that this would be a good time for the family to come in and visit one last time. It was now around noon, although the day already seemed about 3 times as long. I went to get the family in the waiting room and to catch them up to speed on what had happened in the last few hours. They listened intently to every word I had to say, I can think of few such attentive audiences I have ever had regardless of the topic of conversation. By now Rhiannon's Grandparents Alonzo were also on hand, her abuela became extremely upset as I described what Rhiannon had been through so far, and walked out of the waiting room crying, she felt she was unable to go see Rhiannon in this condition. The rest of the family flocked back to the delivery room and assailed Rhiannon with questions about her condition and her experiences so far. I snuck out, with both of our mothers, and hauled down to the cafeteria to get song long awaited sustenance. I don't know how pregnant women do it, going through this entire labor process without food or water save for a few lousy ice chips, it was barely past noon and I was starving. I got a cheese burger and fries, and charged back up to the delivery room. I was a little apprehensive about bringing food into a room where someone had been working as hard as Rhiannon had, but being the selfless girl that she is, she said that it didn't bother her at all, and that she was glad I was getting something to eat. It was hands down one of the top ten cheese burgers of my life.

After eating I walked the family back to the waiting room, with the promise that I would keep them informed with any changes as they progressed. Since she was now pretty numb they could increase the amount of Pitosin Rhiannon received, this would move the labor along more rapidly. And it did, within the next two hours Rhiannon zipped from 4 to 8 to 10cm fully dilated; even Marsha was shocked when she did her final assessment and found that Rhiannon was 10cm dilated and fully effaced. Basically this meant it was go time. What was nice about these afternoon hours was that Rhiannon was completely oblivious to any pain. After seeing what she went through after having her water broken, I can't even imagine what those hours would have been like without the epidural. It was now about 3:30pm, and I went to update the family one last time. They mobbed me at the door, expecting me to tell them that our new addition had safely arrived. To say that they were let down by the news that basically I had no news would be an understatement, I explained to them that we were getting close, and vowed not to return until Rhiannon had given birth.

Things proceeded slowly for the next hour; we basically waited while the baby dropped further into the birth canal, this took longer than anticipated. I phoned my Dad to let him know of our progress, I figured he was the least excitable of the bunch, and as I said earlier I had vowed not return to that waiting room without news of a baby. He said that the room went silent and everybody was hanging on his every word, this definitely reaffirmed my decision not to return to that room, I let him pass along the not so eventful update.

Rhiannon officially started pushing around 4:30pm with Marsha and me at either side to help her out. She now lay on her back (something she hadn't done in over nine months), with her legs in stirrups, and her head pinned to her chest. Every contraction she took a deep breath, held it, and pushed, while we held her legs even closer to her chest, and I counted out a ten count. We repeated this three times for every contraction, once in awhile taking a break to rest. By 5:00pm Dr. Fiorentino arrived, and the real show started from there. At this point the baby's head was visible, and the pushing became that much more intense. A few quick thoughts on the whole pushing experience. First off, Rhiannon was anesthetized, and so she described pushing against a mild pressure, but nothing more, all the while pushing as hard as she could against this dull force. Secondly, Rhiannon was basically rolled up into a little ball of pushing energy, and with every push her face had the craziest expression coupled with red and white blotches that exploded across her cheeks. I would jump back and forth between fighting back laughter at the facial comedy she presented, to holding back tears realizing that any moment our baby would be crying in the same room.

The whole birthing process is a tremendous circus when it comes right down to it. There are nurses suddenly appearing out of every door, similar to clowns falling out of a tiny little car, the doctor takes the role of ringmaster, blasting out orders, and highlighting new events "and in this corner - a head!," Rhiannon played the role of some sort of wicked cross between a contortionist and a cannon that would fire out a baby, the human cannon ball. I guess that would place me as some lucky onlooker called out of the stands to participate.

At 5:15pm Landon Wyatt burst onto this planet with a shrill scream, and he landed firmly on Rhiannon's still heaving belly. That was expected, what wasn't expected was his size. Both the doctor and nurse exclaimed "That's a BIG baby!", and they were right, he was. Landon weighed in at a whopping 9 pounds 10 ounces and measured 22 inches in length. As I have already said several times since, that's a good sized trout. I cut his umbilical cord, and it was official, Rhiannon and I had a son. Ten fingers and ten toes were counted, and flash bulbs began to explode, Landon had arrived safely, and I can't remember ever feeling a greater sense of relief. He cried his eyes out through healthy lungs, and I never remember hearing a sweeter sound. I think Rhiannon was in a state of shock, she stared wide eyed at this monster she had just given birth to, the most precious monster she had ever seen.

I stared at Landon for quite awhile, just looking at my son, not really believing that he was actually here, and still listening to his cry sing through my ears. The nurses continued to clean him up, and I realized we had several anxious people waiting for any shred of news in the next room. I stepped out of the door and both of our mothers were there waiting in the hall, as the door closed they caught a whisper of Landon crying, and asked if those were the cries of their new grandson (I don't know what other baby they though might be crying in our delivery room). I never really thought about the importance of a baby's cries before, they had always seemed more of an annoyance than anything else to me previously, but after only minutes of fatherhood I began to look at the real value of these cries. It made me think of various nature shows I'd viewed in the past, where be it an elephant seal pup on a beach, or a penguin chick in a nest - a family identifies and acknowledges its baby's individual cries. And here in a hospital in Orange County this pattern again emerged.

Both mothers were assured that baby and mom were fine, and hugs and tears were exchanged. We all raced back to the waiting room to pass the news along to the rest of the family. More hugs and tears ensued, along with the continued disbelief of Landon's size. I asked them for a little more patience, that Landon was going to try and get his first meal, and that they could meet the little guy at 7:00pm, they agreed, I think more than anything, enthralled that everything and everyone came through okay.

I floated back to the delivery room to see my wife holding our son - definitely a vision I will never forget. They both looked so beautiful, and so perfectly content.

After he finished his first meal I finally got the chance to hold my son for the first time. Time literally stood still, and raced forward at the same time. I don't think I can do any justice to my feelings at this juncture. It was bizarrely wonderful, terrifying, and an overwhelming sense of relief all twisted together with hundreds of other emotions added for flavor. I sat there in a rocking chair, holding my son, scared to breathe too hard, hands shaking, realizing my life would never be the same.

Before I knew it the doors burst open, and our family poured into the delivery room amidst a chorus of sighs and another serving of tears. Cameras flashed and the throng of excitement pushed close around Landon. I think he got a little over stimulated. We let the family goggle for a short period of time, but quickly realized that this was too much too fast for the little tyke. I mean here he was experiencing the feeling of air on his skin for the first time, and all of a sudden he was swamped by new faces and sounds. We scooted the family out again, and had them return in smaller numbers. In the blink of an eye it was 8:00pm visiting hours were over, and Rhiannon, Landon and I were moved to the Mother/Baby wing of the hospital for further monitoring and recovery.

At the end of our time in the delivery room we received yet another new nurse, Marissa. She tried to explain to us that some babies were really reclusive and that they didn't like a lot of people or noise or light around. While this may in fact be true, it made Rhiannon feel like there was something wrong with or son. We were glad to see Marissa walk away as soon as she had wheeled us into our new room.

We settled into our new room, wherein all likelihood we would be staying for the next few days. We met Jeremi, our new nurse; she was a quiet, non conversational, middle aged woman, who seemed a little standoffish, but in hindsight she was probably just trying to give us a little time to ourselves - we had all had a long day and were exhausted. She quickly took us through the ins and outs of infant care, including diaper care and umbilical cord cleaning, and more importantly showed us the magic button we could push to make her appear out of thin air. She asked if we would like her to take Landon down to the nursery for a few hours, but we quickly agreed that we didn't want the little guy out of our sight. We watched him sleep for hours, tensing up at every little gurgle he made, amazed at every twitch. Eventually we fell asleep for the first time as parents.