Check-In

It's starting to get cold out. I really noticed it yesterday while we were out taking a family run. We bundled the boys into their coats, made sure they had warm socks and shoes on, loaded them into the stroller, and started out on one of the variations of our southern-direction jogging route. I made the switch to long pants and a jacket a few weeks ago, but I think we've almost reached the point where I'm going to need a hat and gloves. Whenever we'd run in the shade I could feel the cold stinging on my hands. More importantly, we're nearing the point where I don't think we can load the boys into the stroller and force them to sit without moving for a half-hour, no matter how warmly we bundle them up and blanket them.

This is too bad, because they both really like going for runs. It functions as a reset for both of them, and if they've been cranking or whining (or if George has been whining on their behalf) they usually are in a better frame of mind after a little fresh air and a tour of the neighborhood dogs, stop signs, and Halloween decorations.

J was smart and actually wore a hat yesterday. She has a very fashionable new running beanie as part of our ongoing program of "we'll periodically spend a little money on fun running clothes to keep us regularly exercising because that's cheaper than spending a bunch of money on diabetes medication or triple-bypass surgery." As I was complaining about the cold at two miles in, she was probably still nice and toasty. It was at two miles in that we discovered Owen had kicked one of his shoes off.

This is a favorite game of his, although usually just with socks. I'll get him out of bed in the morning, and he'll be all smiles (as he usually is) as he wraps his arms around my neck, lays his head on my shoulder, and makes pleased noises. Then, as I put him down on his changing table, he rips a sock off one of his feet, waits until I notice, and then laughs uproariously. He's perfectly content to go around the rest of the day one-socked too. This is a sharp contrast from his brother, with whom we have deployed as a sort of nuclear-option disciplinary measure, the threat of taking off his socks and refusing to put them back on until he finishes his dinner, cleans up his mess, etc.

Anyhow, I got to do the majority of our running route twice yesterday, retracing our steps through the side-streets of the Laurelton neighborhood, looking for a size 4 green baby shoe lying somewhere in the road or on the sidewalk. If found it back on Hurstbourne Street, and then brought it back to smiling offender.

Owen's been having a rather rough patch, actually, if he's capable of such things. He has a mouth full of teeth coming in, and I think he still hasn't recovered from the trauma of J's absence during her Charlotte trip. He wants to be held a lot, and he hasn't been sleeping well. He knows he's close to walking but only tires himself (and everyone else out) by his continual efforts to fall down from chairs and sofas and to have his hands held, and he's putting all sorts of inappropriate objects (mostly things he finds in the bathroom when one of us leaves the door open) into his mouth. He rips books, he pulls plants down on his head, he falls down the basement steps, he attempts to stand up in the bathtub, and recently he dramatically stops in the midst of his tears, tilts his head back, and extends both arms straight in the direction of whichever adult is nearest with an expression of wounded desperation. Despite all this, he's still pretty smiley most of the time, and he makes you feel good about yourself not matter who you are or what you're doing. This goes for clerks at Wegmans just as much as his parents and brother.

James has had a pleasant few weeks, as far as we can tell. He only ever does one song and one obsession at a time, and he does them absolutely with all his focus and all his heart. The song is currently "Our God is Greater" (maybe not the actual title?) and he ranges from either humming it under his breath (while going potty, sitting at the dinner table, etc) to singing it in George's voice (while he's supposed to be napping, while Owen is supposed to be napping) to begging and pleading for it tearfully in the car if anyone should dare turn on another song, to shouting it at the top of his lungs in the stroller as we run through the neighborhood. His current professional ambition is to be a plumber. I support him in this decision 100%, and think he should start it on his training right away. He saw an episode of Curious George where George clogged up some pipes by putting toys down the tub drain (I've warned him REPEATEDLY that this is not something that we're going to copy) and then a plumber named Mr. Auger shows up. James really likes Mr. Auger. He carries around a toy wrench and screwdriver (and George and Steven, of course) with him wherever he goes now, and he routinely asks to go down in the basement or to get into the bathroom cabinet so he can "work on the pipes." He also, for reasons unknown to me, has been carrying around a comb. Yesterday he came up to me without saying anything, combed my hair for a few seconds, combed Owen's hair, ran it once through his own (the wrong way) then went back without any explanation to working on the pipes again.

Most delightfully, James has started to figure out reading on his own. He's still happy to have books read to him, but he is increasingly comfortable curling up in a chair on his own with a big stack of books and George. He'll either whisper the books to George, or just thumb through on his own and look at the pictures. (I don't THINK he's reading any words yet, but he does show some signs of recognizing what's going on.) He makes "nests" out of blankets, and is content to be on his own for 45 minutes...an hour...all afternoon. I'd love to curl up next to him some evening and just read side-by-side for as long as he'll let me. (Usually Owen prohibits this.) But I couldn't be more proud.

I've been worried, as I think about them, about my brothers. The biggest difference between this year and all the years previous, in our house, has been the relaxed work week for me. I'm in a fairly busy patch now, but not trying to do Hochstein or Houghton or Lima on top of all the trumpet playing has meant that I actually SEE the boys every day. Every week there are at least a couple days when I'm home all day, and I see way more of J in the evenings. There's no doubt about it--everyone is happier and healthier. We always made it work, and we could make a busier schedule work again if we needed to. But I'm no longer staying up past midnight trying to send emails about rearranged lessons or finding substitutes. I'm no longer rushing down to Lima to teach a half day before rushing off to a rehearsal, and then cramming make up lessons into the evening. I feel like, at age 30, I may have finished paying some of my "dues."

But none of my brothers are done paying theirs. Lux is student teaching, which is the ultimate paying of dues. (All of the work, none of the salary.) He and Melissa are trying to get a wedding planned. It sounds like he's constantly sick. Calvus and Beka have a new baby (and an old baby) at home, and are potentially rearranging their working lives again. Pax is a new homeowner, working full time, and doing grad school homework when he should be going to bed. M is in the glorious but exhausting rush of the undergraduate years, and must spend every minute of her time reading. I've hardly seen Sam in the past months, and I don't think Mom and Dad are exactly lounging about either.

So that's why my wish for this Halloween, if I could make just one wish, is that the Great Pumpkin would bring an extra hour of sleep to all the young parents, would shorten the commutes of all those driving about the state, would strengthen the coffee, flavor the leftovers, comfort the sore feet, and extend Sunday evening of everyone in my family.

Owen is getting big enough to say prayers at night, and it's good to say once more per evening:
Tonight we pray for Mommy and Daddy, and James and Owen. We pray for Nama and Papa, for Sam, Kaitlyn, Kristen, Hayden, Liam, and baby Korina. We pray for Uncle Oliver and Aunt Kylie, and for Abby. We pray for Uncle Calvin and Aunt Beka, and Silas and baby Roland. And we pray for Uncle Lucas, and for Aunt Melissa, and for Aunt Martha. We pray for Grandma Davis, and for Grandpa Davis, and for Uncle Dan and Aunt Emmy, and for Uncle Tim.

The Family

James:

-wanted more than anything else in the world to buy a watermelon at the Public Market. Not sure why, or even if he enjoyed it once it was purchased. But he sure was excited

-is playing kickball in the backyard at every opportunity. Still playing baseball and hockey regularly as well, but I think he knows that we're more likely to play along with him if we do a game (like kickball) that can be played while holding Owen

-has discovered s'mores toasted over the fire pit

-regularly loses one or both of his shoes without meaning to

-stands at the door and waves now whenever a parent needs to leave. (Also, clings to their leg and begs them not to go as soon as he detects that they're getting ready to depart.)

-as of tomorrow, is halfway to being 4 (!) years old

Owen:

-weighs 17 lbs, took his shot like a champ, and attempted to eat all of the sanitary paper that was laid out at the doctor's office

-communicates that he'd like more solid food by banging on his tray repeatedly

-is making rudimentary attempts at talking by shouting a single pitch in the face of whoever is holding him, or in James' case, leaning over him and shouting back

-is quite near sleeping through the night consistently, but making both ends of the night more difficult by staying up later before he falls asleep and getting up before 6 AM with no prospect of returning to sleep unless he can get in bed with J

-has no interest in formula from a bottle, except to play with the bottle and spit it out

J:

-is making lots of smoothies with exotic ingredients like coconut water and chia seeds

-played the Hindemith sonata on Monday and the LCS concert on Tuesday, during which she ran back and forth between the flute, piccolo, and piano

-has temporarily given up coffee in the hopes of avoiding the caffeine/sugar crashes mid-afternoon

-entered James' room yesterday and by some act of trickery convinced him to help clean it

-couldn't be more thrilled with the hot weather

-will take the boys to PA this weekend

Me:

-attempting to practice all sorts of fundamentals and back-burner technique projects now that I have no big concerts or auditions for the next few months

-have struggled to get up early and do my morning routine the last few weeks because of odd late nights and travel

-finished the annual LCS concert

-am less than thrilled with the hot weather and consequent sweaty, grimy, sticky, lethargic afternoons

-spilled birdseed all over the garage when the bottom of the bag ripped open

-need to figure out how to trim the odd bits around the house that the lawn mower can't reach and where exactly the water in the northern wall of the basement is coming from

5 Happy Things

It's the middle of January, so between the cold and dark you have to make sure that you're remembering all the good going on around you.

1. Late dinners with J
We've gotten into the habit of feeding the kids dinner around 5:30 or 6 but waiting to eat ourselves until 8 or so when they're in bed. My Mom used to do this for my Dad on Monday nights (and other nights when he used to work late) and I'm beginning to see the appeal. This way James can eat something that we know he'll eat (like carrots and hummus or pb&j) and we can eat something nice and fancy later on, like a good soup or something exotic. We get out the nice silverware and plates, light candles (can't do that with the boys at the table) and pour a little wine. Then we can talk without checking to remind anyone that eating peas with your fingers is bad manners and remember to swallow before you put the whole sandwich in your mouth.

2. Playing principal trumpet in the orchestra this week
I enjoy playing 2nd, of course. It's a very different set of challenges, mostly making sure that I'm supporting and blending into what's going into the top voice, trying to read their mind about pitch and style. When I play first, I feel graceful and powerful and noble. (Especially when it's going well.) It's a little bit, I think, what it must be like to be a horse running freely on some Mediterranean plain. And, more than, anything else, playing trumpet feels like my own voice. If I hear my own speaking voice played back on a recording it sounds familiar but also jarringly odd...is that what I really sound like? Playing trumpet feels more like my own voice than speaking or writing, and when I play principal I'm freed up from blending into someone else's voice.

3. Great coffee
J's Mom is one of the most conscientious gift-givers I know. In years past she's had J sneak through my closet to get my sizes for dress shirts and sneak through my library to find out about books I don't have. She found a reading lamp for a study, a brown betty teapot for my coffee drawer, and this past year a box of Zabar's coffee. Zabar's is amazing New York City coffee that I got turned onto when our friend Janette brought some back after living there for a summer. I've worked my way through one bag already and just finished a press pot of the Ethiopian bag this morning. At 5:30 in January with the thermostat turned all the way down, it's sometimes hard to force yourself out of bed. Knowing that there's amazing coffee downstairs makes it easier.

4. Uncles and Aunts
We had two spontaneous visits last week, one from O&K and the other from L&his girlfriend Melissa. (Melissa can't be abbreviated to a single letter, otherwise she looks like Martha!) O&K got snowed in with us for the night, which turned out to be great fun for the four (plus three) of us. L&Melissa came over on the night that I had James and Owen to myself the whole day, and I don't know how I could've gotten through everything without their help. Melissa held Owen while I gave James a bath. (Traumatic, as always) L played with James while I tried to give Owen another bottle. (Also traumatic) They both went along with James' "fwiends" and played marble run while Owen was cranking and I was putting away dinner. J is a saint for doing this every day.

5. Two cars
The Corolla is back. Speaking of being at home with two kids, it's really nice to be a two car family again. It appears to be running fine, per my rigorous inspection. (It turns on fine and doesn't sound any different than before the accident.) I paid the deductible, for which I ought to be reimbursed, and drove it back from Syracuse two days ago. The only fault I could find so far is that the windshield wiper fluid appears to be empty. I think I have some in the garage and should probably get outside and refill the reservoir. But right now it's mid-January in Rochester and I have a press pot of really good coffee on my desk, so that will probably need to wait until later.

Family

There isn't much time to see family recently. If there were an abundance of time and we had no obligations this weekend, I'd like nothing better than to drive around and visit each of you. But since we probably can't,

M-
I hope the first week of classes has gone well. I wish we could stop in and surprise you walking from class to Garlock at some point. It sounds like there are some good friends there for the making. College is so much better than high school, isn't it? Still, I remember the first week or two at Roberts being a little lonely. Everyone else is looking forward to seeing friends they made last year, and as a freshman you're trying to figure out who to eat and sit with. Whoever you're eating and sitting with is lucky to be with you.

Lux-
Are you reading anything interesting? Any chance of you blogging again soon? I miss having you around, since it's a laugh a minute, usually. I think you should hang out with James again sometime. Aside from S, you're the uncle he's seen the least of over the summer. Do you have a secret girlfriend that no one knows about? Or are you working your way into the heart of some young Roberts girl? Or have you sworn yourself to the bachelor life this semester, a term of late library nights reading dusty books in comfortable chairs?

Calvus-
It was so good to see you this morning; we shouldn't wait that long to do Hebrew again. You have an amazing gift for the vocabulary, and I think I learn the words faster from hearing you remember them than trying to memorize flashcards on my own. It's great to see you with Silas, too, of course. James still pretends that Silas is his only cousin, even though he was a little standoffish when he saw him the other day. J and I both miss Beka...is she doing well with the start of the semester?

Pax-
One more week until Sunday afternoon Bills games start! Has it been okay to leave Abby and K this week while you've been going in for school stuff? Isn't it terrible for the first week or two when you've been used to spending all day with them over the summer? I have to say again how relieved and happy for you I am that you have a job for the fall. It's no easy thing to make a living as a music teacher nowadays...I hope you feel like you're good at this job (you are) and that they give you a little more respect than they did at that other place.

S-
We were so close to you the other night! I've been thinking about you a lot, actually. We had your daughter over and she talked about you constantly. When will you see her again? I know she misses you terribly. I don't even know where you're living nowadays, but I'm glad you've found stability with the new job. I'd stop in and order a coffee, but I don't want to distract you if you have other responsibilities you need to be taking care of...are you doing okay?

Mom-
You must be going nuts with all this RWC stuff. J is only very distantly involved with it, and I hear about the preparations every time she comes home from work. Is it thankless, or are you reaching benchmarks and hearing thank yous? Do you like your new boss? What's it like to have an empty house? I hope you and Dad are just exquisitely happy together? Can we take the kids for a weekend so that you can have a truly quiet Saturday morning? (I don't know what weekend it would be, of course.) I feel like we should have made a bigger deal out of this...what an accomplishment to send the last of six off to college!

Dad-
So really, how was Nashville? Was it fun? Did it satisfy any long-delayed desires to be in a pro studio and work with that sort of expertise? Did you enjoy the music at all, or was it just another job? It had to have been fun, I think. When will you get a recording? I would love to hear what you sound like through a professionally engineered mix. This mortgage stuff has been crazy. I can't even begin to imagine how you juggled two mortgages and owned a business and were a father to six kids all at the same time. I'm barely keeping my head above water looking after James and trying to answer all the phone calls that come in. Did you feel like you were underwater? You always had such a calm exterior...

Six years ago...

Six years ago today I woke up in a hotel bed with four brothers sleeping on the floor. I’d argued the night before that I was perfectly comfortable sleeping on a carpeted floor, and there was certainly no need for me to take the bed by default. At the very least we could draw straws. It was four against one, however, and they had each fixed their minds that I should sleep on the bed. Sam was 20, Pax was just turned 18 and in the midst of a transfer to Roberts, Calvus was just 16 and still in high school, and Lux was only 13 years old. They all had long, shaggy hair.

I had told myself not to rush through the coffee and breakfast, knowing already that the nervous hours of the morning would pass too slowly. My parents brought bagels, and we found ESPN on the hotel’s cable stations. This was long before my parents surprised us all by getting a cable subscription at the house, and it was a rare treat to watch some Sportscenter.

I showered, scrubbed my teeth vigorously, and shaved as closely and as cautiously as I dared—after all, it would be no good to nick myself shaving today. We drove to the church about 10 AM.

It was my wedding day.

I was nervous, but it was more from an abundance of excitement than an abundance of worry. Still, there were flitting moments in which I weighed the enormity of the day. I was taking the most irrevocable step I would ever take in my life. You can change careers if you’re in the wrong job, you can change schools if you’ve gone to the wrong college, and you can sell your house. There would be no taking back of marriage vows.

My brothers were great. They were as goofy and exuberant, of course, but there were no ill-timed jokes about what they’d do to embarrass someone in the ceremony or any complaints about putting on tuxedos. They kept me pleasantly distracted and helped wherever they were needed.

Our family was about to take an irrevocable step as well. There would be no more of “the six Smith kids.” We were bringing in a spouse for the first time, and there would never again be a vacation to Alleghany State Park or a Christmas dinner in which Mom and Dad sat down with only their own children. There was going to be, not just a girl in the house, but a grown-up girl. Family photos would be different, and I wouldn’t be spending my breaks in an old upstairs bedroom anymore. The Smith family, as we knew it, was coming to an end.

I practiced when we got to the church. There were still several hours until the ceremony, and it was the best way I could think of to kill a half an hour doing something that would keep me completely distracted. It didn’t really work. My Dad came around, somehow having agreed to our foolish request to photograph his own son’s wedding. Six years later, that would be the one thing I’d do over. The photos look great, of course, but he ought to have been able to enjoy the ceremony next to Mom.

I changed out my polo and jeans around lunch, and someone came around with food—I remember having no appetite, although I think I ate a few bites of something.

One of my brothers discovered a foosball table in their explorations, and we played a few rounds while one of J’s brothers regaled Lux and Sam with an impression of Gollum’s voice.

When we entered the sanctuary, I immediately missed my trumpet. It’s no trouble for me to be up in front of a few hundred or even a few thousand people, but I’m always holding a trumpet when I’m “performing.” As I walked with the pastor and the groomsmen to the front of the church, I made a mental note to see that my gig bag ended up in a car that was going to New York, since we wouldn’t be taking any instruments on our honeymoon. No need to bow or wait for the accompanist when I got to the front of the church, or to acknowledge applause. I turned and looked at the people in the church.

There were hundreds there. Hundreds of people had driven more than five hours from New York for us, and they were beaming at me as I scanned their faces and met their eyes. I listened to the trumpet prelude as a colleague, rooting for each high note as the bridesmaids processed in. I watched as a proud older brother as M came down the aisle, hair up, glasses off, looking much older than 10 years.

And then the doors shut, and there was a fanfare.

And then the bride came in…