Family

Owning It

I just got to say that I love being a dad. Kelly had her day in the office today so it was me and Kaelyn all day long. Sometimes there are days when Kaelyn's fussy or just wanting her mother so I'm constantly checking the clock, waiting for Kel to get back. Lately Kelly has had a lot of changes with her job and deadlines and such and this afternoon was the latest she's ever gotten back from work. But the time just flew by and I didn't even notice.

Everyday there are new things I can teach her. Her vocabulary is getting much better [actually, she still says only a couple of actual words, but "mon-mon" means "monkey" and that's all that matters].

There have been plenty of people telling me to enjoy her at this age and I'm definitely following that advice.

You've Been X-Punk'd!

I haven't blogged much this past week because I was sorta busy. My wife is turning thirty in two weeks and Saturday we threw her a surprise party. The set-up, however, was months in the making.

Kelly knew I was going to throw her a party this year, and figured it would be a surprise. About eight weeks ago I created a fake volunteer reception for the Cincinnati Preservation Association. I researched the interwebs to find some info about some historic houses in the neighborhood near the Walnut Hills Church and made up a flyer, even making it look believably flawed. Apparently Kelly bought it hook, line, and sinker because even after the surprise she asked if I faked the event.

It seemed like we were against smooth waters until this week when I discovered we wouldn't be able to decorate on Friday night. This meant we'd have to redezvous at the church early Saturday morning to get things set up. Kelly's parents were in town to help get Kaelyn ready and ended up getting a hotel room to make this work. So I pretended to not be able to sleep, woke up at 5:30 to go to Panera [something I occasionally do], and got out of the house to make it seem natural. We made it to the church to set-up but I had to get home early while the rest of the crew took care of the decorations.

So later in the day, when we were all dressed up to go to this event, I took us on a diversion to the church where I had created another fake event. I received a fake cell call asking for assistance at the church. Kelly said it was my voice-inflection on the phone that led her to figure things out. But she was still surprised to see friends and family all dressed up too. We did our best to make it a black-tie affair and it worked out very well. I'm sure I'll get some pictures up soon.

I will say that I would suck cheating on my wife. I was under a lot of stress constantly lying to her for a good reason; I can't imagine what weaving a web of total deceit would do to my brain. This past week I started the most ridiculous conversations with Kelly to avoid the subject [like I give a rip about High School Musical 2]. By last night I was so exhausted, but it was so worth it. Kelly is still the most amazing thing that ever happened to me and I'm glad she had a day to remember.

A huge thanks to Dave and Bev, Kelly's parents, who went the extra mile to make sure their daughter had a party to remember. They stayed the night Friday, giving us a chance to go see a movie, and protecting the sanctity of the surprise. Bev put together the decorations making a seventy year-old church fellowship hall look elegant. They were amazing. And also big thanks to Sheryl [and Ed too] who helped get the cakes, set-up early Saturday morning, and cleaned up too. All of you made this happen.

Now that the weekend's over, I'm going to sleep.

Maybe we'll do this again in thirty years, Kel.

Still Vacationing

. . . and enjoying it immensely. One of the cool parts about traveling/vacationing with other people is that I don't have to think. I just show up, do what I'm told, and enjoy not having responsibility. Example: this whole time I thought we were going to be hanging at the Outer Banks until Kelly told me otherwise as we were driving down. We're actually at Wrightsville Beach, a Gulf-of-Mexico-like place on the Atlantic. It's beautiful out [far cooler than the 100-degrees-plus in Cincy] and not that crowded since it's out of season.

There's more to write, but I'm not going to.

Holiday!

And, yes Madonna fans, I will add the obligatory, "Celebrate!"

We've finally taken a vacation. Before you hop in your car to break into our condo and rob us of our earthly possessions, I remind you that 1) we have an excellent security system and, 2) being so close to the ghetto, you'd probably get jumped by someone who wanted to take the junk you took for us. City living has its perks.

We're traveling with Kelly's parents and Kaelyn couldn't be happier; she loves the added attention. She calls Dave "Bah-bah" and Bev "Nah-nah" and she's saying it non-stop. Currently we're in the Vegas of the South, Gatlinburg, en route to Raleigh, North Carolina.

For those of you familiar with the Westside's premier vacation destination, we ate at the Applewood tonight. Good grub. Then Dave and Kelly went swimming with Kaelyn and the little girl wouldn't stop smiling. Good times. We've seen many a mullet, numerous Confederate flags, and too many exposed body parts that the Lord never intended to be seen. Good grief.

Kaelyn's finally asleep. Life is indeed good . . . because we're on vacation.

Come On, Ride The Train . . .

. . . if you can find it. Every couple of days we hear a train engine blow its horn. That wouldn't be too unusual except that there are no train lines remotely near to our condo. The only explanation we can come up with is that there are some tracks between a couple of factories right along 1-71 and they sound the horn as they're crossing the road [here's where I think it's located]. It just blew loud enough to wake Kaelyn from her nap but we were granted a reprieve.

I much prefer listening to fireworks after a win at GABP.

UPDATE:

I'm adding this update almost a year and a half later in case I forget this. After being outside one day a couple of months ago, I finally figured it out. There are constantly semi-trucks dropping off shipments at the Association of the Blind just down the street. Apparenlty, there's one truck whose horn sounds just like a train horn. So that explains why it felt like it was so close, but it was not actually a train.

Unimpressed

Forgive me as I ramble. And forgive my improper use of pronouns as I attempt to protect someone's privacy. A week ago I spent an entire day at the courthouse. A personal friend was being tried for a crime that they did not commit. This was a crime that the county prosecutor knew my friend did not commit yet chose to use tax-payer money to try the case anyway in order to further possible political aspirations. I had little doubt that a not-guilty verdict would be the result.

Because of our pastor relationship, I was subpoenaed as a character witness. This meant that I was not allowed to view the proceedings and had to spend my time waiting in the lobby until I was called to testify. Of course, I was not called to testify which meant I really didn't do anything but provide moral support during the breaks [I did use the time to read two books, write a couple sermons and plot out my teaching schedule through next summer]. Like I suspected, it took little time for a not-guilty verdict to be handed down.

Through past experiences I've discovered that a lot of interesting things can happen in court lobbies and this day was no different. One person passed out while before a judge so paramedics came and hauled her away. Some people had never seen a metal detector before and were confused when their keys set it off. And some jackass divorce lawyer made jokes about a mother who left the courtroom in tears, desensitized to the fact that he's ripping her life apart [and it's gay marriage that's the biggest threat to the sanctity of marriage?]. Yet I digress.

The most appalling thing I realized that day, a lesson I'd learned perviously but still find disturbing, is that there are people on the side of the law that are just plain dirty.

This prosecutor had no case. I'm not a legal expert, nor do I watch Court TV and but I could clearly recognize this. After the verdict was delivered, reeling from an embarrassing defeat, the prosecuting attorney used their position to offer disparaging, inaccurate remarks about my friend to local media. So a representative of our justice system, employed to protect the public, used their power within the system to try to make a name for themselves at the expense of an innocent person. They, when their bad judgment is exposed, they lie and lob additional, baseless insults. As an American, I was embarrassed. As a tax-payer, I was pissed.

Overall, I was unimpressed.

So where is the justice for my friend, who was found not guilty, but had their name soiled? Where can they go to reclaim their reputation? I'm not going Michael Moore here, advocating that the system is broke and we should all move to Cuba. But I am saying that power is intoxicating, capable of making saints into sinners. We should always be a little leery of the people who wield power, clergy included [if not especially]. Not all crooks use weapons to commit their crimes; some use the very structures designed to maintain justice in order to thwart it.

It's difficult to cling to faith in such an unjust world. The case of my friend is just the tip of the iceberg; at least they could afford competent legal counsel. What about those innocent who are serving time? And, expanding the circle, what about the oppressed throughout the world who die without being heard? This isolated incident is nothing when compared to what millions others have experienced.

So now what?

As I move on I, trying to come to grips with my bitterness, I don't go to Nietzche, but return to the Scriptures. I still gravitate towards the Biblical concept of God in seeking relief- finding refuge in a God who is just beyond measure; a God who is what we aren't; a God who doesn't need to know "what's in it for him" because it's all His anyway. I find security in the understanding that when people fail and systems let us down, He exhibits perfect justice.

That, friends, I find impressive.

"He is the Rock, his works are perfect, and all his ways are just. A faithful God who does no wrong, upright and just is he."

Deuteronomy 32:4

About Hype

Over-hyped: The movie 300. I was stoked when it came out on video only to discover that it was the p0rn version of Gladiator/Braveheart. Watching King Leonidas in the trailers scream statements about Sparta seemed cool. In the context of the movie it became laughable. Under-hyped: Fatherhood. It killed me to go to class tonight as Kaelyn cried for her Da-dah. Lucky for me she was still not wanting to sleep when I got back so I got to hold her as she fell asleep; occasionally she'd look up at me while sticking her tongue out. As I left her room she uttered out a "night-night" [which currently comes across as "nah-nah"], and I knew life was good.

Just-right-hype: My wife. Just this past week in my class, we discussed the institution of marriage. An article we read absolutely ripped it apart, suggesting that it was an archaic institution that needs to be abolished; that if you're married life pretty much sucks and you wish you weren't married. I was partly pissed/partly sad because, when I think about our marriage, I can't imagine life without it.

When we were dating I knew that Kelly was something special. There's always a little doubt as to whether the romance can last and I can proudly declare that ours has. Nine years to the day when we said "I do" it's all been worth it.

My wife is amazing. Perfect hype. Happy Anniversary, Kel.

Hot! Hot! And, Dare I Say, Hot!

Truth: my sister-in-law makes the best salsa ever.After eating it yet again this past weekend I had Kelly call Mandi to get her recipe. Kel went shopping today and got all the ingredients necessary.

And Steve rejoiced.

Before heading to class tonight I decided to cut up all the vegetables and make the legendary salsa. I never really knew what cilantro was before today. It could soon become my favorite spice; sorry, oregano. After dicing all the ingredients, including three kinds of peppers, I washed my hands thoroughly twice and got ready for class.

As I was getting ready I scratched my nose [not a pick, I swear] and it felt en fuego. I proceeded to wash my hands once more, thinking the third time's a charm, and went over to Xavier.

About half an hour into class my left hand, the one I used to hold all the veggies while cutting, felt tingly. Within the next thirty minutes, the hand felt warm. By the end of class, it was absolutely on fire. As I type this, I have to stop periodically to clench my fist because it's still burning up.

Not really sure what I can do about this. Never knew working with vegetables could be so hazardous. But when I'm chompin' down on some freakin' incredible salsa tomorrow, it'll all have been worth it.

The Joy Of Blogging

I was thinking the other day of my blogging tree. I've stated before that Tim Reed and Brian Coates [no hyperlink available] were the early blog pioneers that led me to this discipline [and this was before the days of MySpace and their terrible blogging app which means everybody became a blogger by birth]. Since then I know of quite a few people who decided, "if Steve can do this, anyone can," and started their own blog. And there are probably branches that stem from this blog that I don't even know about. And the interwebs is a much better place, I'm sure of it. For those of you who still contemplate whether or not you should try blogging [or try blogging for a second time] let me give you my favorite reason for doing this: the ability to archive your life.

I can barely remember what I ate last night, let alone what I was thinking at major points of my life. I started this blog in the fall of 2004. That was before we went to Israel, before we had ever really thought of Echo, before Kaelyn. Because of this blog I can go back and see what got me here. I can quickly reference my highs and lows, see things I wish I hadn't written, and remember mole hills I crafted into mountains. Whenever I think I'm going through a rough period I can look back and see something even worse that God brought me through.

I've never thought of it this way, but blogging is a blessing that I'm grateful for. That's not to say that I haven't littered cyberspace with my share of meaningless YouTube links, but I've also documented some important things in my life. And I'm better off as a result.

Yikes [athletically speaking]

I played softball tonight for the first time in two years. Some buddies from up in Mason needed an extra for a game tonight so I pulled out the softball pants and dusted off the glove. Kelly and Kaelyn tagged along which was awesome. I've never been a great hitter, but I usually have a great glove and can use my speed to make up for everything else. I popped out my first time up when I had to chase a ball outside on a 0-2 count. The last two at bats I ran out a couple of balls for singles. And I ended up pinch-running for this one guy throughout the night which worked out rather well for our team, scoring twice.

The first fly ball hit to me in the outfield is what messed with me. Two years is a long time not to field a fly ball and it showed. A guy hits a can 'o' corn my way and I'm tracking it decently. But I didn't play the breeze at all so I let it sail just over my extended glove. It was rather embarrassing; I'll be thinking about that for a few weeks.  I did get a chance of redemption later proving, to these guys who didn't know me, that I could actually catch a fly ball.

There were some cool moments as we got to see some old friends. And Kaelyn was a blast.

I've taught her to say "baseball" and she was saying it over and over again on our drive up there. And she enjoyed playing with a softball by the bench all night, until one time I took the field and she burst out in tears.

But the best part was earlier today when Kaelyn looked at Kelly's Reds shirt and said, "baseball?" We've never really taught her anything about the Reds, so I guess she picked up on it as we leave the FoxSports game on the television: The Reds "wishbone C" = baseball. Much to the chagrin of her Braves-loving grandfather, this girl bleeds Red . . . figuratively and literally.

It twas a very good night.

Pregnant

Not us, but a title like that always garners a little more attention than others. Interesting article in Christianity Today about the phrase "We're pregnant." The author, a man by the way, believes that sentence to be both inaccurate and demeaning. When men drop that phrase, he believes, they are actually belittling all that the woman endures during and after the pregnancy. I'm not sure if I used the phrase "we're pregnant" as I wasn't, however, I would tell people that "we're having a baby" as I was confident it was mine.

When we had the extended stay in the hospital before Kaelyn was born [and I use "we" because I was there every night throughout], I was a little disappointed that I had very little "rights" as a father. I was not required to sign any official paperwork because Kaelyn was first and foremost the responsibility of Kelly. This ticked me off a bit, and I think it's more reflective of absentee fathers and the society we live in.

However, I think this article makes a valid point as some husbands want a little of the attention as well. Compared to what Kelly went through, I had it easy. She was attached to machines restricting her movement in her bed; I slept on a pull-out chair. She was bedridden for weeks; I was able to go out and run errands. She has scars; I was scarred observing what she had to go through. And this is to stay nothing of all she had to go through to recover AND take care of the baby AND deal with me and my Hepatitis. Kelly went through hell to bring Kaelyn into this world. And I was there.

So no matter how secure I am in my fathering skills far be it from me, or any other of us guys, to declare that "we're pregnant."

Pictures

In case you need your Kaelyn fix, go over to houseofcarr.com, click on the photos and check 'em out. She's becoming quite the model. I really need to thoroughly update the site, which I still like, but will probably wait till the fall. Also, I thought I'd post this picture I took this morning. They're tearing up the street in front of our house to put a grass median in the road [nothing says class like grass, eh?]. When they ripped the road open, they exposed the old trolley tracks that used to run up Gilbert Avenue. I guess with all the streetcar talk here in the city, it's appropriate. So we get a little glimpse of yesteryear, at least for a few days.

My Evil Daughter

A belated Kaelyn story for you: A week ago, on Kelly's work in the office, Kaelyn and I were playing around all throughout the house. At the top of our stairwell we've added a metal kiddie gate to prevent her from doing a face dive down the stairs. So now, Kaelyn is fascinated with this gate and likes to stand in the middle of it while it's open [with adult supervision, obviously]. Usually Kelly does this with her, but we were having a good time with it.

As we were playing there Kaelyn would look me in the eye and cross her foot past the gate towards the stairs; she would then tap her foot a few times and then pull it back. Then she would bend over and take her finger and tap the carpet on the other side of the gate, all while looking at me. She repeated that, foot then hand, over and over again. It was cute and I thought nothing of it.

So the next day, when Kelly was home, we were up on the stairs by the gate repeating the scene; Kaelyn was doing the hand and foot thing while grinning at me. But when Kelly notices this, she firmly says, "no!" and Kaelyn got a guilty look. Apparently Kelly has repeatedly told Kaelyn that she isn't allowed to touch the carpet on the other side of the gate. So the day before, when she was looking at me while crossing the line, she knew that she was breaking one of mommy's rules. She was just seeing how far she would get before I stopped her.

Now you know I love my daughter but I think this shows again that, even at a young age, there is an inclination to do wrong. I've been thinking a lot about rebellion lately; not overthrowing the government, mind you, but how it seems to be an almost natural response to authority. Is obedience figuring out how to suppress our rebellion? Just thinking out loud here, but this anecdote would fit well into the conversation.

And I was holding out hope for a perfect child . . .

City Living At It's Finest

We have some friends, Scott and Robyn Duebber, who are also invested in raising their family in the city. For those of us who grew up in a midwestern suburban concept*, city dwelling requires us to reevaluate how we view our lives. Almost nineteen months into this grand experiment, Kelly and I are still glad that we chose to live where we're at. We have many friends and family members who have chosen to raise their kids in the 'burbs, so I don't mean to offend, but there are plenty of obvious reasons to settle out there. So allow me offer another perspective: I think more people should consider establishing their families in urban areas. Sure, it's not for everyone but it's not nearly as bad as people envision it to be. Actually, it can be an incredibly rewarding experience for both parent and child.

The three major reasons that people cite against raising a family in the city is safety, space, and schools. Allow me just a few sentences to explain how we have approached these issues so far.

Safety: I know I've noted before some of the issues we've had down here, but I still feel safer in the city. Perhaps it's because 1) you're conditioned to be more aware of your surroundings and 2) there are always people nearby so you're never fully alone. Unfortunately, just yesterday a little girl was assaulted at the Kroger near our old house. When something like that happens it the suburbs, you struggle to deal with it because you view the suburbs as being safe. I guess you could say since we live in a continual state of heightened awareness that it's not as surprising when tragedy strikes nearby. You might think this is a more stressful existence but, honestly, it's not.

Space: I recently listened to a podacst that talked about how families deal with living in the city. One of the issues they brought up was this issue of space. We don't have a yard for Kaelyn to play in but we have a huge park that we consider our own. Apparently, when you dwell in urban areas, you begin to redefine how you view space. It's no longer just the extent of your property, but also shared community common places. And It's true that we had to dramatically downsize when we moved into the condo. We have a lot less junk than we used to. But it's nice to know that we have what we need to get by.

Schools: OK, so this is the biggest issue for families in urban areas. Whereas many urban districts have schools comparable to those in the suburbs, Cincinnati Public Schools is far behind. Sure, there are various schools throughout the district that receive high marks but it's not indicative of the CPS as a whole. Since we have a few years before Kaelyn starts school we're not worrying about this yet, but we're already thinking about the future. Many parents suggest the Fairview German Language school whose reputation is impeccable. Not sure how I'll feel about the little girl talking smack about me in Deutsch, but I'll get over it. And, as I've said before, Walnut Hills has one of the best secondary schools in the country.

Plus, there are so many advantages from being close to the city center, from the cultural diversity to all the amenities at our disposal it's just a great place to be. We're still figuring this thing out, but we're having a blast doing so.

So, if you're wondering, there are plenty of new places available down here and we'd love some new neighbors, so feel free to join us!

*It should be noted, however, that the term "suburban" literally means sub-urban, originally used to designate those areas that provided a lower standard of living than cities.

Father's Day 2

I'm basking in the glory of another Father's Day. Here at Beit Carr, we're not big holiday people, so nothing too special will happen today. Kaelyn was up bright and early and still a tad fussy from being sick this past week. As for me, I still gotta preach later tonight [from Zechariah 2, not exactly what you might consider a Father's Day text] but it's cool. Today isn't much different from any other enjoyable Sunday, except that it feels, well, easy . . . um, easy like a Sunday morning. So since the creation of the best Mother's Day gift ever, Kelly has been plotting how she could use her own creative abilities to express her love and appreciation of my fatherness. I've noticed her feverishly working on a project this week and this morning I finally was able to see the results. She opened up her laptop and showed me her project: a set of rather impressive photos.

John McClain is back. And the Mac guy too. Let the bodies hit the floor.

For you to understand this picture, you must understand this.

Truly, there's more than meets the eye.

I'm very impressed that she of no Photoshop experience took the time to learn and create me such wonderful gifts. No necktie or set of golf balls would mean as much as this.

So thanks, Kelly and Kaelyn, for making my life as a dad an enjoyable one. It's too easy . . .

Pobrecito

The occasion of my nephew's birthday is what brought about the Backyardigan Massacre. I didn't get my brother Chris a birthday present, so I hope a video of the incident helps. Watch it over at the YouTube. By the way, it should be noted that I love a good pinata. I used to buy pinatas for people I used to work with when they left their job. They're a perfect metaphor for life if you think about it: if you really want something, use a stick to beat the crap out of whoever has it.

Let the bodies hit the floor.

Happy _________

I know much in my mind. I remember a slew of phone numbers, passwords, and security alarms stored in my cranium. For instance: 24-16-22. If you can figure out where to put that, you would gain access to man yriches.

I have countless musical lyrics committed to memory, such as one I was able to recite tonight during class: "With the lights out, it's less dangerous, here we are now, entertain us."

I've memorized many pointless sports statistics, including the fact that Terry Steinbach of the Oakland A's was MVP of the 1988 MLB All-Star Game. Additionally, it's the only All-Star game in 20+ years in which the Home Run Derby was cancelled due to rain.

And, I usually remember all the important family dates on our calendar.

Well, except for two.

June brings two days that I just can't seem to keep straight. My parents were married 37 years ago today while, tomorrow, my brother Chris will celebrate his 34th birthday. I had to ask Kelly yesterday which one was which. At least I remember that it's one of these two dates.

So Happy Birthday/Anniversary Chris/Mom&Dad, regardless of what day it is.