Growing Up Kaitlyn is, well, growing up

I've been writing this blog for a year now. Kind of hard to believe.

I started because it's kind of boring being semi-retired. I needed something to consume my time. I needed a creative outlet. I needed to get out of the funk of not having a job.

I had Michelle. I had Kaitlyn. I had friends and family who were supportive. But there was something missing. Besides money. A sense of accomplishment maybe, which (no matter what Michelle continued to say) wasn't satiated by dusting, laundry or ironing.

So I started writing. Heck, I was getting paid as much as my days as an actual journalist (zing!). There wasn't anything worth writing about except fantasy football poker legality in North Carolina Family Guy Michelle and Kaitlyn.

Making sense

"Perhaps God tires of calling

the aged to His fold,

So He picks a rosebud

before it can grow old ..."

I don't understand a lot of things in this world. The origins of the universe. All 9,833 sections of the Internal Revenue Code. How to calculate a quarterback's Passer Rating.

Most of the things I don't understand, someone can sit me down and teach me. Or at least have some semblance of an explanation. Whether I can understand said explanation is a different story, but the explanation is more than likely reasonable, something the semi-educated person can grasp.

I don't understand the death of a child.

People can stop many things in this world. People can explain many problems. People can heal many illnesses. When a child passes, people cannot do any of those things. Cannot stop grieving. Cannot explain sorrow. Cannot heal broken hearts. Only time can do those things. And in this saddest of circumstances, time is against us.

We want time to pass more quickly: to begin our healing, end our grieving, explain our sorrow. Sadly, it doesn't. Everything moves in slow motion; every second feels like an hour, every hour a day, and so on.

All we can do is sit and wait for time to catch up to us, a race that can't be won.

When an adult dies, there's the expectation that person lived their life -- played their first tee ball game, had their first kiss, went on their first date, owned their first car, had their first job. That person had experiences that can be reflected upon. When a child dies, there are only what-ifs.

We can think about the joy children bring us, the beauty that pours out of them. We can think of all of the happiness they filled the world with in their short time here. We can tell stories and show pictures and laugh and cry and laugh some more.

But then there's the silence. Then, the tears. Lather, rinse, repeat.

You might be able to give me reasons for why a child dies, but you can't ever explain it. It's one of those things in this world I will never fully understand.

"...So when a little child departs,

we who are left behind

Must realize God loves children --

Angels are hard to find."

In Pictures: Kaitlyn's first boat trip

So it was a long three week stretch here. Daddy's been busting his tail for work, just wrapping up Market America 2010 International Convention. Lots of hours, lots of work, little time to recover. Eighteen out of 19 days at work, mostly extended hours.

For a four-day stretch, I didn't see Kaitlyn awake. Barely saw Mommy awake during those days, too. Yikes.

So what was a family to do? A little R&R, thanks to some friends. Growing Up Kaitlyn was invited out to Belews Lake, which is a pretty sweet place not too far from home base here in the BFE. So Saturday afternoon, we trekked out to the lake, met our friends and enjoyed some swimming and tubing in 90-degree lake water (thanks in some part to the Duke Energy Plant right on its banks. Don't worry -- the green glow only last a couple hours).

Promises, promises.

So it's been more than a month since my last post. Yeah, yeah, yeah: I know I said work would affect Growing Up Kaitlyn. I know I dropped the ball on that (twice).

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Right?

Well, I'm here to tell you that I'm going to try and not fall into this pit for a third time. I promise to do better. I promise to post more frequently. I promise to use work time to get the job done. I promise to keep you all abreast of everything Kaitlyn because, well, it's Kaitlyn. She's friggin' adorable and smart and playful and hilarious and adorable and everything else.

So here's the deal: I promise to do all I can to keep Growing Up Kaitlyn going strong. All you have to do is keep me on my toes. Leave comments asking where the heck I am if you haven't seen something new in, oh, four or so days. Shoot me a comment on Facebook. Reply via Twitter.

Let me know what you're missing. Because sometimes, when you're Growing Up Kaitlyn, there's so much to share that we forget.

Childhood Days in Keansburg

Kaitlyn's quite lucky to be here in Greensboro. There are plenty of things to do; from the Children's Museum to the Science Center to the Zoo (well, it's not in Greensboro, but close enough), there's always something for us to do with her.

When she gets older, there will be all of the above, plus Wet N' Wild water park, Greensboro Grasshoppers baseball games, all of those parks and playgrounds that we continue to discover and so on and so forth. There isn't a shortage of activity, to say the least.  

That was the case when we were kids. There was always something happening -- whether it was bowling at the old Strike N' Spare, pitch-and-putt at Green Knoll, the occasional trip to Dave's Auction for some ice cream while stale cigarette smoke filled the air. 

But, for the money, nothing beat Keansburg. Sure, there were places with bigger amusements (Wildwood), more name recognition (Atlantic City), more games of chance (Seaside Height), but there was something about Keansburg. 

I remember driving in the van with the family, meeting Aunt Jo Ann and Grandma in one of the many storefront gambling halls playing video poker and skeeball for tokens that I would inevitably use on baseball cards. We'd stroll across the street to another, maybe the one with the candy wheel and try to win value packs of Reese's Cups or another sugary treat. Walk to the amusement area and wonder why the rides weren't working, not realizing that my family was (for a few years, there) the only one walking the amusement area. 

It's apparently making a bit of a comeback, which is good. I'd like to bring Kaitlyn down to Keansburg one day, when she's old enough to play the games on her own. It was a big part of growing up, so why shouldn't it be a part of Growing Up Kaitlyn? 

The Day After Tomorrow is Three Days After Vacation Ended

Kaitlyn's vacation, in bite-sized pieces:

Got in Daddy's car at 6:15 p.m. Dropped Boo-Boo off with Pop-Pop. Sang Pokerface. Without the radio. Or Mommy. Or Daddy. Fell asleep in North Carolina at 9:15 p.m. Woke up in South Carolina at 10:30 p.m. Fell asleep in South Carolina at 11:30 p.m.

Woke up at 8 a.m. Ate cereal. On patio. Looking at the ocean. In the bright morning sunlight. Got bathed in sunscreen by Mommy. Stubbed toe on walk to beach. Saw beach. Smiled. Helped Daddy dig hole for umbrella. Filled hole back up with sand. Daddy re-dug hole. Played with bucket and yellow shovel. Couldn't find purple shovel. Cried. Found purple shovel. Laughed. Walked to water with Mommy. Ran from water that chased me. Ran back to water. Laughed. Ran to bucket. Ran back to water with bucket. Repeated for next three hours. Left beach. Fell asleep at 1:30 p.m.

Woke up at 5 p.m. Went to dinner. Ordered shrimp. Got shrimp. Don't like shrimp. Ate fries. Asked for ice cream. Cried. Got in car. Cried. Went to stores. Cried. Walked around. Cried. Fed fish. Didn't cry. Walked some more. Cried. Got ice cream. Got in car. Went to room. Got on jammies. Cried. Said prayers. Laid down with Mommy. Talked to Mommy for next thirty minutes. Fell asleep at 11 p.m.

Woke up at 8 a.m. Wanted pancakes. Went to get pancakes. Ordered pancakes. Got pancakes. Didn't eat pancakes. Cried. Ate pancakes after Daddy got mad. Went to room. Got bathed in sunscreen by Mommy. Again. Stubbed toe on walk to beach. Again. Saw beach. Smiled. Again. Played with bucket and yellow shovel. Couldn't find purple shovel. Cried. Found purple shovel. Laughed. Walked to water with Mommy. Ran from water that chased me. Ran back to water. Laughed. Ran to bucket. Ran back to water with bucket.

Wanted the pool. Went with Daddy to pool. Got thrown in air in pool. Went under water. Swallowed water. Twice. Laughed. Wanted the beach. Went back to beach with Daddy. Found Mommy. She was red. Left beach. Went to room. Watched Wonder Pets. Fell asleep at 1:40 p.m.

Woke up at 3:30 p.m. Got dressed. Wanted pizza. Went in car. Ordered pizza. Got pizza. Didn't eat pizza. Cried. Ate pizza after Daddy got mad. Wanted ice cream. Cried. Got back in car. Went to stores. Walked around. Cried. Ate pralines at candy store. Don't know what a praline is. Wanted more pralines. Left candy store. Cried. Walked some more. Cried. Walked into Kohr's. Got ice cream. Watched Mommy cry after paying $3 for children's size. Got in car. Went to other stores. Got Big Jessie. Went back to room. Watched Buzz and Woody. Said prayers. Laid down with Mommy. Talked to Mommy for next forty-five minutes. Fell asleep at 11 p.m.

Woke up at 8 a.m. Ate cereal. Got bathed in sunscreen by Mommy. Again. Stubbed toe on walk to beach. Again. Saw beach. Smiled. Again. Found seashells with Mommy and Daddy. Walked to water. Sat in water with Mommy. Wanted the pool. Said bye bye to beach. Went in pool with Mommy. Said bye bye to pool. Went back to room. Got changed. Packed bags. Packed car. Got in car. Wanted pancakes for lunch. Ordered pancakes. Got pancakes. Didn't eat pancakes. Again. Cried. Ate pancakes after Mommy got mad. Got in car at 1 p.m. Fell asleep after five minutes in car.

Woke up in North Carolina at 3:30 p.m. Got to Pop-Pop's at 5 p.m.. Got chicken for dinner. Ate dinner. Go figure. Got cupcake from YaYa. Ate cupcake. Go figure. Got in car. With Boo-Boo. Got home at 8 p.m. Watched Kai-Lan. Watched Backyardigans. Played. Said prayers. Laid down with Daddy. Fell asleep at 10:30 p.m.

In Pictures: Memorial Day Weekend

YaYa and Michelle out shopping. Kaitlyn asleep in her bed. Pop-Pop and Boo curled up on the couch, one of them snoring.

What has led to all this? A Sunday excursion to the Natural Science Center. Here's the In Pictures update for all of you who don't subscribe to my social media feeds. On a side note: Why don't you subscribe to my social media feeds?

The Epitome of Strange(r) is Michelle Writing This Blog…

Let me introduce myself, my name is Michelle and for those that know me and know the truth, you know that I am among many other things the “Rock” behind “Growing Up Kaitlyn”. For without me, there would be no Kaitlyn!

You may be wondering why I am writing this blog today and I’m sad to say that I have officially infected the house with my germs and James is feeling so bad that he can’t bring himself to brag about Kaitlyn, I mean blog about his angel…so you know he must really feel bad. He called me begging me to write something so that he could keep up with this whole “Strange(r) Challenge” – which for the official record, I do NOT understand and think this blog should be 78% about Kaitlyn and 22% about me, but hey, what do I know? But before I continue I would like to use this opportunity to apologize to my dear husband for spreading my germs, despite my best effort to keep this house sterilized because I know how crappy I felt for the last week.

It didn’t take me long to figure out what I was going to write about once the begging was over so I hope that you enjoy and it provides you with a glimpse into my heart– please remember that I was not an English major like James so spellin an grammer didn’t count.

The Top Ten Reason’s I love my Husband… (there really is no particular order for these except #1)

10. James understands how important my job and the teens I work with everyday are to me. He has moved more boxes, served countless pieces of pizza, and attended more TRU events then any spouse should have to.

9. As you have read in a previous post, James knows that loving me, means loving Teddy. And I would like to point out, that in the almost 9 years we have been together, he has never once hung Teddy by his neck on our ceiling fan like some of my friends…you know who you are LD, ER, MR, SS

8. He still gives me butterflies in my tummy, even if he is going gray and has the cholesterol levels of an 84 year old man.

7. He only makes fun of me once and a while for watching new and old episodes of Beverly Hills 90210, The Secret Life of the American Teenager, 16 and Pregnant, Keeping Up with The Kardashians, and every other teen drama and stupid reality show out there. In fact he even bought me “the Newlyeweds” series – that’s right Nick and Jessica forever and he has been known to hum along to the theme music to 90210.

6. James knows how important my family (which includes his family whom I love dearly even if I don’t write or call and tell them that enough)and friends are to me. He knows that when I get around some of them, I revert to being fifteen and while it annoys him sometimes, I know that it makes him happy to see me so happy. What can I say, “once a nudge, always a nudge!”

5. James LOVES to shop as much as I do. He is the crazy fool you see in line at 3am on Black Friday. Doesn’t matter if it is for t-shirts, video games, furniture, or groceries…he’s there with me and is always there with his opinion. Does this surprise any of you?

4. I don’t need to impress him, although he may not realize that I still like to try sometimes. He doesn’t care that I wear shorts and a t-shirt to bed, that my legs aren’t shaved or that I can eat my weight in ice cream (with sprinkles of course) he thinks I’m beautiful no matter what.

3. He knows that traditions are so important to me, probably more than they should be and he knows that it is important that we pass traditions on to Kaitlyn. He happily reads the “Night Before Christmas” on Christmas Eve with me, celebrates “Peanut’s Day” (Kaitlyn’s half birthday) and carves pumpkins without any begging on my part.

2. He makes me laugh. Granted, sometimes I am laughing at him, but does it really matter since I’m still laughing? (Smiling…Not Smiling ;)

1. He gave me the greatest gift in the world, my beautiful daughter Kaitlyn Riley. I watch him with her and sometimes I start to well up with tears, because of the love he has for her. They have such a special bond and all of us, including Boo are happy to call him “daddy”.

My dear James, in case I don’t tell you enough I love you, always and forever…

Nothing Strange(r) Going on Today

Okay, so sue me: Today wasn't really a strange day. No unexpected run-ins with people. No crazy events in our day-to-day activities. Nothing strange(r). Or strange, for that matter.

I have to be honest -- I don't know how people stay on this topic and keep with their typical blogging themes. If I really wanted to stay on topic, I could throw out some strange news headlines and whatnot, but I promised myself I would only do that once a week and that comes on Mondays.

I tried to wait all day long for something strange(r) to happen that I could blog about. I mean, we took Kaitlyn shopping in the morning. Nothing. We brought her for a walk pre-nap. Nothing. We took her to a friggin' Revolutionary (not Civil, even though my wife thought so) War re-enactment. You'd think you could find something strange(r) there. But besides the $4.50 price tag for bread and cheese (where are we, Russia?), there was nothing.

Uncle Art and Aunt Kari's for dinner with little Lily? Nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing. I mean, there was a little bit of playing with beer caps, but nothing crazy. Fact is, this blog is about Kaitlyn. The things she does, the things she drives us to do. How we deal with parenthood on a daily basis and how there's nothing else we want than the hug she provides each day we pick her up from daycare.

Something Sometimes there are truly strange things that happen. Other days are like today -- a little hairy at times, but nothing strange or unexpected. And while we like to joke and make fun of the times that make us laugh, it's days like today that are some of the best.

Strange(r) Things in Life: Family

I don't have the luxury of sifting through piles and piles of comments. I have 17 followers (depending on which social media you subscribe to). That number would probably be around 30 if anyone in my family knew how to properly use Facebook, RSS, FriendFeed or any number of social media applications. I can't even get them to comment properly.

Take my sister Tracy, or Aunt TeTe as Kaitlyn knows her. She reads this blog religiously. I think she's commented on 80 percent of my posts. Problem is, Aunt TeTe doesn't comment on the blog. You see, when I set up this little creative outlet, I put family members on email alert. That in and of itself, I now realize, has probably cost me hundreds, if not thousands of pageviews. Good thing this isn't about money. Sigh.

But back to Aunt TeTe. Instead of shooting a comment on the blog (which I have asked her to do, to no avail), she replies to the email notification. Which is all well and good, since she's reading the posts, albeit in a different form. But as any good blogger knows, comments beget comments beget comments. And I've lost a good 80+ comments from Aunt TeTe alone. If you multiplied that by a reasonable 1.5 (figuring for every two comments, there would be a response from someone), I've lost another 40 comments from you, the general viewership.

Here's her latest comment, which came from the daycare post:

Hey - in Mexico. Tell Michelle this place is AMAZING! Sorry she could not join me, maybe next time... I´ll touch base with you guys next week. No cell service, but internet is very cheap $8/hour. Just wanted to let you know in case of any emergency... :-)

I probably lost a good eight to 12 thread comment list from that. They probably would have gone something like, "What are you doing in Mexico?", "No cell service? Can you hear me now? Can you hear me now?", "I know what else is $8 an hour in Mexico" and other classics.

I don't know what's strange(r): the fact that my wife apparently knew my sister was in Mexico while I did not, or the fact that my sister is willing to shell out $8 an HOUR to check email. Oh well, enjoy Mexico sis. You've just been blogged.

Home Sweet (Dream) Home ... with an awesome custom bar

To all of you who made it here thanks to MaryMac, I welcome you. Ah, yes, linkjuice tastes so sweet. And just to clarify: my wife doesn't blog -- she just makes smartass comments and tells me what I'm doing wrong oversees production and takes a picture now and then. I hope you enjoy it here and decide to make your way back in the future.

Anywho, loving wifey is working today, which left Kaitlyn in the uneasy trembling capable hands of Daddy. We've already had a busy day, which has included looking at some shiny new homes. No, blogging hasn't made me rich enough to purchase a shiny new home (not to mention we've already got one). It's something I enjoy doing, considering my previous job.

Looking at homes makes me wonder what's going to happen in the years to come. I mean, that nice bonus room above the garage would make a great play area for Kaitlyn and/or more kids (Yikes, did I say that? See what happens when Michelle's not around to oversee my little production) but it would also make a cool poker room. Or maybe a pool table. With a dart board. And custom bar. Oh wait, no bathroom in the bonus room. Nix the bonus room.

Then what about that master bedroom on the first floor? Right now I couldn't think about my 26-month-old upstairs alone. But what about when she's eight? I mean, it won't matter once she becomes a teenager -- she'll be locked in the tower -- but I think I'll want a floor separating us when she's all about yelling at Daddy. At least seeing her stomp up the stairs when I tell her "no" will be entertaining.

And how big of a lot do I need? I mean, I want a yard big enough to put a swing set, but I'm sort of spoiled not having to do yard work. Plus, Michelle has a black thumb -- she can kill a cactus.

I guess for now we'll remain happy in our little townhome. It's a good home -- just one without a shiny new poker room/pool table/dart board/custom bar. Sigh.

Be prepared Mickey: Kaitlyn's a-comin'

It's been one year since our inaugural voyage to Walt Disney World with our Disney Girl. The last time we were there, she had a great time playing in the pool, a pretty good time riding It's A Small World, and was terrified at the sight of real-life characters. All in all, a lot of fun.

So here we are, just about 36 hours until the flight takes off from RDU bound for Orlando. This time, though, Kaitlyn's prepared.

She knows Mickey inside-out. Minnie doesn't know this much about the big-eared one. She's a pair of wings shy of being an honest-to-goodness fairy herself. My guess is she would be a Tinker fairy, considering she likes to take things apart (we're working on the putting-things-back-together-again part). The princesses are her new go-to characters, even though she calls Beast "Bear" and mixes up Pocahontas and Mulan. Apparently she's not too politically correct.

I've prepped her extensively regarding proper character etiquette. She's saying all the right things thus far:

Me: Who are we going to see this week Kaitlyn?
Kaitlyn: Mickey! Donald! Tinker Bell!
Me: Are we scared of Mickey?
Kaitlyn: No.
Me: Are we scared of Tinker Bell?
Kaitlyn: No.
Me: Are we going to give Mickey a big hug when we see him?
Kaitlyn: Yes.
Me: Can you show me? (big hug ensues)

We're nearly packed. We've got the cameras charged. We've got the tickets in hand. We've got the character breakfast booked. Now it all comes down to execution. And that's up to Kaitlyn. Or else we end up with this again:

The Pecking Order, Kaitlyn-Approved

Last night was a rough night. Kaitlyn decided she didn't want to sleep in her crib, so around 1 a.m. she wailed for Mommy. And of course Daddy got up and brought her into bed. And later in the night, when Kaitlyn woke up crying for milk, Mommy got up, went to the kitchen and brought it back into bed for Kaitlyn.

Granted, Michelle doesn't remember a lick of it thanks to the Ambien, but that's not the point of the story.

In the morning (the real morning, not the 1 a.m. wake-up call), as Michelle got ready for work and I lay with Kaitlyn in bed watching Blues Clues, the little one rolled over to Michelle's side of the bed and proudly stated, "Lay on Mommy's pillow."

That's good honey, I replied. Kaitlyn then rolls over toward me, finally coming to rest with her head on the pillow that would be considered "my side."

"Lay on Kaitlyn's pillow," she exclaims.

"No honey, that's Daddy's pillow."

"Daddy lay on Kaitlyn's pillow."

I shake my head and laugh, realizing that my daughter recognizes the bed as Michelle's space, a place that she has fully vesting rights to and I am merely a placeholder. So Kaitlyn has made the unofficial pecking order official. For those keeping track (or more appropriately, for those who hadn't figured this out already): Michelle, Kaitlyn, Boo, James.

Finally: Thanks to everyone for the well-wishes on the new job. Things are going quickly over there and I have a great group of people to work with (and no, they don't know I blog so none of them are reading this -- unless they stumbled upon it somehow). And they're keeping me plenty busy.

The Day That Changed Everything

Here we are, two years later.

I never knew what to expect when that day came. There was plenty of questions heading into January 13, 2008. Were we ready for this? What would the future hold? How could we overcome all of the doubts and internal struggle?

Who ever knew waiting could be so difficult? Who knew that rest was so unrestful? Anxiety set in sometime around 2 p.m., when the tension could be cut with a knife. By 4 p.m. it was almost time to see what the future would hold, questions be damned.

We pushed ourselves to the limit, we prayed and we hoped. We sweat, we laughed, we cried, we even said a couple bad words during the ordeal. We had some times where we didn't think the end would come, but then finally we saw the finale later that evening, and it was beautiful.

We welcomed the outcome with open arms, knowing that the game had changed and destiny had touched her hand on our shoulders. We didn't know exactly the path we would now take, but we knew it was paved in gold and we would be winners when we finally came to its conclusion.

Now, two years later, we can take pride in the fact that we persevered through it all. We can say that, even if we made mistakes over the last two years, we still are on the right path. We still have our future. We still have that day.

That day led to so many things. It led to parties and celebrations. It led to lessons learned and dreams imagined. It even led to some bumps and bruises that will help shape us for what the future holds. And boy, what does that future hold.

I can always look back on that day, that one fine day and think, This is what it was supposed to be. This is how it was supposed to happen. God smiled that day, and he was happy. Happy that a touch of His hand had given us all something so special. Something so real.

I sit here and smirk, thinking back to that day in the hospital room and watching it all unfold in front of me. And finally, at the end of the day, I sat back in my chair and exhaled. I knew this part was over, but the hard part was just beginning. Did I know how it would happen, or ever if it would happen so fast? No. Did I care? Not in the least.

I just relished in that moment. That moment: New York Giants 21, Dallas Cowboys 17.*



*Oh yeah, Happy Birthday Kaitlyn. You came into this world on the same day that Eli Manning came into his own. And if you turned out to be a boy, there was going to be some serious discussion regarding names. 

How I Met Your Mother

Dear Kaitlyn:

I know that by the time you're actually able to read blogs (more like, by the time I let you use the computer on your own), this one will probably be long gone. Either that or dear old dad has made a ton of money from this little venture and you're so mad at me for writing about your life that you don't care to read what I have to say. Let's hope it's the latter. That way you can at least love me for my money.

Today, I bring you back eight and a half years. Dear old dad was prepping for a day of hanging out with friends down in Asbury Park (which, by the time you read this, might be nothing more than a retirement village on the Jersey Shore. What a waste). You see, he was heading down to the Stone Pony to see a concert that, rumor had it, was going to be crashed by Bruce.

After a couple hours at the Pony, Daddy and his group of friends left for greener (i.e., younger) pastures. They finally made their way to Martell's Tiki Bar, where the crowd was a little less grey. It was about 5 p.m. and the band that night wasn't scheduled to start until 8 or so, which gave Daddy and his friends plenty of time to, um, catch up with some friends. You don't know these friends, Kaitlyn, because they are Daddy's friends. Not yours. Remember that.

After a couple of hours with his friends (not to mention a certain former U.S. Representative who bought Daddy a couple rounds), one of Daddy's friends got a brilliant (to him) idea to get Daddy to sing with the band.

For some reason, the band leader totally agreed to let Daddy jump on stage and sing with the 12-person band (with full brass section, mind you). With about five or six doses of liquid courage in his system (again, Daddy's friend, not yours Kaitlyn), Daddy made his way to the stage when called on by the band leader.

The band leader asked Daddy if he was ready for this, which Daddy wasn't. But once the music started, Daddy did a Stella. Little did the band leader know that Daddy was going to go all Ann Curry on him.*

It worked though, as the crowd (which at this point looked double its size thanks to Daddy's liquid courage) was cheering like crazy, including this one little hottie who had made her way to the front of the stage. Soon the song was over and Daddy was heading off stage, being patted on the back and given high-fives from people. That one little hottie made her way over to Daddy and started gushing over him like Daddy was a rock star. Daddy even got her phone number.

And it's a good thing he did, Kaitlyn, considering Daddy called that little hottie a couple days later. And a couple days after that, they went on their first date. And a couple days after that, Daddy got pneumonia and couldn't go to the Aerosmith concert, which, by the way, that little hottie had tickets to, as well. But that's OK, because a couple days later, that little hottie brought some soup to your sick Daddy and told him all about the concert.

Eight and a half years later, that little hottie is still a little hottie. And that, my dear Kaitlyn, is How I Met Your Mother. Happy Anniversary, you little hottie.

Oh yeah, and Bruce did wind up showing at The Stone Pony that year. And Daddy missed him. And he's glad he did.

*Go all Ann Curry (v): to take over a production by throwing himself/herself in front of the lead talent, whether warranted or not

Meet Teddy

Teddy has always been a staple in Michelle's life. Of course there are all the childhood memories, but that would only be scratching the surface of Teddy's exploits, since everyone had that favorite stuffed animal when they were growing up.

You see, Teddy went to college with Michelle. Teddy slept with Michelle through her years at Towson University. There were stories about how Teddy was hidden from Michelle by the girls and guys, how Michelle might find Teddy the next day hanging from a light fixture or ceiling fan. Michelle was not amused.

Teddy made her way home with Michelle after college (How do we know Teddy is a she? Well, there's a hole between Teddy's legs from the seams popping, which made for some rather unsavory stories, according to Michelle's friends).

When Michelle and I moved in together, Teddy came along. And yes, Teddy still had a place in the bed. Teddy made it to our wedding, albeit in a duffel bag in the honeymoon suite. Michelle actually wanted to pin Teddy underneath her dress, but I think YaYa got the better of that argument.

Teddy is a world traveler, too. Besides going on the honeymoon to Jamaica (yes, ugh), Teddy went to London in high school and the Dominican Republic when Michelle and her friend Laura did some after college "discovery." Teddy's criss-crossed the country, usually in Michelle's pillowcase so she knew where Teddy was at all times. Teddy's been (to my knowledge) to Arizona, Seattle, California and every state on the east coast from New York to Florida.

Teddy's place in the house has always been by Michelle's side. In recent years, Teddy moved from the bed to the nightstand because Michelle was afraid that our dog would use Teddy as a chew toy. But every night, there was Teddy right next to Michelle.

I don't think Michelle ever thought of a day when Teddy wouldn't be by her side.

The other day, Michelle noticed that Kaitlyn was holding Teddy. At first, she thought this was cute, since her daughter was meeting her Teddy. But then a funny thing happened. Kaitlyn started actually bring Teddy with her places.

So far it's been confined to the house. But when you turn around, there's Teddy lying on the floor, Kaitlyn telling Teddy to "Go to sleep," covering Teddy with a dish towel. There's Kaitlyn holding Teddy while watching Dora. There's Teddy in Kaitlyn's crib at night, my daughter's arm wrapped tightly around my wife's slice of childhood.

You can see in her face that Michelle is torn by this chain of events. After all, this is her Teddy, not Kaitlyn's Teddy. I'm sure that somewhere, sometime, Michelle thought she'd hand Teddy down to her child. But to actually see it happening has brought a gush of emotions over her. I'm sure she secretly thinks, Get your own damn Teddy.

So now here Teddy sits, on the bench next to the snowman, waiting for her girl to come home. Much to my wife's dismay, she's not that girl anymore.

Kaitlyn's Turkey Day Special

So here we are at Thanksgiving watching Mickey Mouse Clubhouse on Playhouse Disney. Sort of like every other day. That is, until 9 a.m. hits.

At that point, we will introduce Kaitlyn to what I consider the start of the holiday season, the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. I think she'll enjoy it, considering the colors, music, floats and balloons that come across every 1.5 seconds. It truly is an ADHD wonderland.

Then it's off to Old Navy (Michelle doesn't know this yet, since she's still slumbering away) since there's some good deals and, if you get there early enough, some free swag before heading to YaYa and Pop-Pop's place for some food and football.

But the real reason for this post (and the holiday, lest we forget) is to give thanks for everything we have today. While I might be semi-retired and therefore a little lighter in the old wallet, there's plenty to be thankful for.

First and foremost, a wonderful family that is loving and supportive. It's been a long and tough road over the past seven months (God, really? Seven months?!?!) with some near misses, but it's all a learning process. Plus, as Michelle likes to say, there's a plan. Don't know what that is, but I guess if we knew we wouldn't learn anything.

Second is Kaitlyn. Granted, she's part of number one, but to have a daughter that is healthy, happy, adorable, too smart and funny as hell is more than I could ever ask for. Plus, without her none of you would have the pleasure of reading Growing Up Kaitlyn.

Third, I am thankful for Northstar Travel Media. What is Northstar Travel Media, you ask? Well, that is the company that pushed me toward semi-retirement. I am thankful for them because, without the salary they provided me for a year and a half, unemployment pay would be scarce and I would probably be asking everyone if they would like fries with their order. So thank you, Northstar Travel Media. Granted not for pushing me out the door, but at least for paying me close to what I was worth.

So from our family to yours (which is essentially mine since most of Growing Up Kaitlyn's readers are related in some way, shape and form), Happy Thanksgiving. And consider this my phone call, just in case the Tryptophan kicks in sooner than expected.

In Pictures: Burlington Christmas Parade

Michelle and I made a pact Friday night. We would close the computer on Saturday, not opening the laptop until Sunday came rolling around.

You see, it's very easy to flip some Playhouse Disney on the tube for Kaitlyn, allow her to fall into a Gabba Coma and check emails and play Bejeweled for a couple hours. So we decided to just shut down contact on the World Wide Web for 24 hours.

All this allowed for some Family Fun Time, which on Saturday meant heading to downtown Burlington for the annual Christmas Parade. Yes, I said that right: On November 21, five full days before Thanksgiving, we went to a Christmas parade.

Now Michelle considers me sort of a bah-humbug because of my distaste for the commercialization of Christmas. Fact is, while I'm no fan of Christmas starting sooner year after year (the holiday season started around July 4th this year, right?), I do love the holidays. Good food, lots of Family Fun Time, Charlie Brown. It's really fun.

Christmas parades are part of that. I especially love local parades, because (as you will see) they include great floats, local "celebrities" and, most of all, some of the wackiest things you could possibly include in a parade. But, in the end, they are all good fun and celebrate not only the holiday, but the community.

Michelle and Kaitlyn enjoying the festivities on Saturday

It wouldn't be a Christmas parade in the South without numerous crosses on pick-up trucks adorned with signs stating "Keep Christ in Christmas". This just so happened to be the first of many on the day

I'm not sure if the good people at Dave's actually registered for the parade or were just making a delivery along the parade route.

Somebody decided to get their employees dressed up for the occasion. Unfortunately they decided to get the costumes at a Furry convention. 

Cool. Cooler. Coolest.

My former co-workers, Jay Ashley (driving) and Frances Woody (passenger, local celebrity) represented The Times-News quite well during Saturday's parade. 

Nothing says Christmas quite like Cloggers clogging to Christmas music. 

This is quite possibly the best picture ever. 

In Pictures: 'Cause I'm back from Lazy-Land, Part I

As you may have noticed, I've shirked my blogging responsibilities for the past couple of days. I don't know whether it was the Turnpike air or the pork roll, but I was lax in my duties.

Actually, as silly as it sounds, I really didn't like my parents' keyboard. Call me a computer snob, but I'm sorta used to the clunky Toshiba laptop I'm typing away on, and since the 'rents don't have WiFi (the horror!), I was relegated to either lugging the laptop to a Starbucks (never!) or writing on a foreign keyboard. So basically I cut the Internet time and drank it away at my old haunts spent it with my family, especially Kaitlyn.

When I last left you, I was prepping for a trip to the Crayola Factory. It was pretty sweet, as you will see. Since I'm still recovering a bit and I need blog fodder for the next week or so my creative juices have yet to recover from the 540-mile trek from Jersey back to North Carolina, I'm giving you some quick highlights from the trip. More to come in the days ahead.

Kaitlyn had no problem with the giant crayon she encountered, however Mommy was a little more frightening on this day.

As you may notice from the above pictures, Kaitlyn is a bit of a fan when it comes to arts and crafts. Her artwork will be prominently displayed in the Louvre, the National Gallery and, of course, the refrigerator.

This is our wonderful Aunt Jo Ann. She didn't know I was taking this picture. She didn't know I was posting this picture. She might not like me so much after posting this picture. This is our wonderful, wonderful Aunt Jo Ann.

While many of you (okay, all five readers of Growing Up Kaitlyn) know about YaYa, you have yet to be properly introduced to Nana. This is Nana, with an apple turnover the size of a manhole cover from Harold's. She didn't eat the whole thing. At least not in one sitting. 

Greetings from Somerset Run

So I've been a little incognito the last few days, putting the finishing touches on my trip to the Home Planet, which has meant lots of packing, lots of cleaning (house and car) and lots of hair spray (to fit in, you know?).

If you've been following along, you know I've been dreading this trip, especially the whole getting to and fro part. Luckily, Kaitlyn was a saint, traffic and cops were non-existent and Michelle's bladder amazingly expanded to allow for limited stoppage. Long story short, House-to-House lasted a mere eight hours and change. Cha-ching.

So we made it in Tuesday night and did the whole sit around and catch up with the Nana and Pop-Pop, who gave the whole "We're glad to see you and Kaitlyn, but it's really past our bedtime and we can just do all this tomorrow at IHOP, right?" look. So Michelle, Kaitlyn and I kept them up for another two or three hours for gits and shiggles.

So on Wednesday, while Michelle and Kaitlyn criss-crossed Central Jersey to meet up with the women-folk, I grabbed my father and headed out to play a round of golf in that sub-50 degree weather. And by the way, who ordered the friggin' wind? He tried to wimp out on me before leaving, saying "I don't play in the rain" or something of the sort, but all I heard was "wa wa wa wa wa wa wa wa" and it wasn't from Kaitlyn. I told him to grow a set and we made it around Fiddler's Elbow.

Nothing major going on with this post, just a little update since I haven't checked in for days. You'll get some later, including pics, since we're bringing Kaitlyn to the Crayola Factory on Thursday. Later, all.