What Did You Leave For Santa?

My daughter continues to surprise us. We were preparing for Santa's visit last night, setting out a snack. Traditionally we place out a couple of cookies, milk, and a small snack for the reindeer. However, in an unexpected turn, my daughter looks at me and says, "No, Santa not want cookies. Make him tummy sick." while rubbing her tummy and looking quite sad. "He need... nana with him's milk." So we put out a glass of milk, a banana and some baby carrots for the reindeer. Santa was pleased and left several nice gifts for the family. I guess there's room for changes in all traditions.

Warm Your Belly Rub

I do a fair amount of grilling throughout the year. I'll stand in rain, snow, hide from sleet, and bundle up as appropriate to complete a meal with some nicely grilled, preferably smoked, meat. In the course of dinners, I've played with various wet and dry preparations. The following recipe will be inflicted on my in-laws and relations via their Christmas stockings this year. It is my understanding that they enjoy a little kick to their spices so I aimed to deliver. This has been kitchen and friend tested and has received the "Scott Safe" label by the narrowest of margins.

My wife and I are admittedly spice snobs, we like fresh spices and frequent our local Penzy's Spices store.

With no further ado, here is a dry-rub blend I'm calling "Warm Your Belly Rub." (sized in parts)

12 parts Brown Sugar
4 parts Medium Hot Chili Powder
2 parts Ground Cumin
2 parts Ground Chipotle Chili Powder
2 parts Kosher Salt
2 parts Course Ground Black Pepper
2 parts Garlic Powder (not salt)
1 part Lemon Zest (I used a dried Lemon Peel)
1 part Ground Allspice

Surgery ?= Developmental Milestone?

Sorry to post a lot about the Little Trooper, but he decided to crawl and transition to/from sitting tonight. He wasn't full-on crawling before surgery. This isn't the first time he's made a transition to a new developmental milestone immediately following surgery, it's the 3rd!

Guess he's like me... wont' take a challenge without a good hard fight! We don't start tasks without finishing them... even if surgeries interrupt!

The Little Trooper Is Home.

Surprising all of us a little, Little Trooper was discharged this morning. He can eat whatever he feels like (although we'll probably ease his way back into solids). When I arrived to pick him and his mother up he was giggling and playing, rolling around the crib before I could change his diaper, and pretty much back to normal!

He's home now, taking a nap in his car seat from which I will not wake him. Time for the rest of us to recover.

An odd thing to celebrate.

Sometimes being a parent is just plain strange. Like tonight:
After 2 days of very very bad sleep schedules resulting from being with my son in the hospital pre- and post-op with the constant stream of checkups I am only barely qualified to even type this entry.

My wife came over after taking our daughter to her swimming lesson; bringing lunch for us. Sometime after she had arrived, we were taking turns holding the little trooper and eating lunch. I held first, then finished lunch. With things settled in, I decided it would be a decent time to shower and started preparing. I was about to step into the bathroom when I heard quite the rip from where they were sitting. Looking over, my wife confirmed my thoughts: it really *was* the little trooper! We figured it was just gas... exciting enough as that is as it actually came from the proper place. Instead, we started doing the happy dance as I checked out the results and found that we actually had encountered our first soiled diaper!

Now... bring on the paste and more frequent diaper changes.

The surgeons were happy when they came and did rounds. We had a further 2 examples for them to review and they were quite happy. If he keeps responding this strongly, he could be on clear liquids tomorrow, then breast milk. He might even be able to come home as soon as Tuesday evening! Surgery was Friday morning and we were expecting 3-5 days minimally with the operating surgeon hinting that, based on little trooper's reaction when the ostomy was first performed, that we'd be looking to the longer side of that range.

There may be more cheering in the future, but for now I must sign off as I believe my pillows are calling my name.

The Pedicurians Are Coming!

To start off this Independence day, my headstrong daughter wanted to have a little home pedicure. My wife did the honors, soaking feet and trimming toenails. Then my daughter insisted that it was time to switch. My wife started soaking her feet and then the phone rang.
Answering the phone, I started to do my usual wandering around while talking routine. Unfortunately, my kind daughter decided that I was to be included in the pseudo-spa day and started to follow me around with a pair of toenail clippers saying, "Dad, give me your foot!" loud enough to carry over the phone and dropping down to my feet whenever I paused. This lasted for about 3 minutes before I had to beg a moment away from the conversation to respond.
Beware! The Pedicurians are coming!

Interesting Sandwich Toppings

Over the weekend we decided to have a lazy lunch and went to Subway as a family. My daughter was her usual independent self, insisting on doing things her way. I must credit her, however, for fairly clearing expressing her desires. The most interesting part was in selecting toppings...

Lettuce, cucumber, pickles, tomato and Olivers.

She was mumbling a little, but it was fairly clear... especially repeating Olivers several times because we didn't know what she was saying! Once I figured it out it was time for a good laugh. We have had one of our friends' son over more for some play time. His name is Oliver. I would suspect he doesn't know that he is now a part of my daughter's diet!

Requirements Gathering: 101

... and Piglet said, "if you see what I mean, Pooh," and Pooh said, "It's just what I think myself, Piglet," and Piglet said, "But, on the other hand, Pooh, we must remember," and Pooh said, "Quite true, Piglet, although I had forgotten it for the moment." And then, just as they came to the Six Pine Trees, Pooh looked round to see that nobody else was listening, and said in a very solemn voice: "Piglet, I have decided something." "What have you decided, Pooh?" "I have decided to catch a Heffalump." --Piglet Meets a Heffalump, A. A. Milne.

I have been working on gathering requirements for the last several weeks. Once again, it was may daughter who found the proper reference to frame my experiences. If you were to randomly stick your head into any one of the myriad of meetings I've been in lately it would invariably come to a similar discourse within moments. At least, even if not completely relevant or in the normal conversation flow, a decision is made: "I have decided to catch a Heffalump."

In my career as a software developer I've been the target of criticism for incorrectly implementing a dream set of software in someone's head. If you were to hold up the requirements I was given along side the above paragraph it is likely that the excerpt contained more meaningful statements than the requirements themselves.

For Pooh and Piglet the adventure continues. They start with an Idea and then bat it back and forth until it is deemed a Clever Idea. This is a step that really should be considered more frequently than I have seen. Ideas are wonderful, they bring value to a project at any stage, and they should be given respect.

What is not so wonderful is when an idea is presented as fact. Ideas should never find their way into the process without a proper challenge at any stage; requirements, analysis or implementation. This is not to advocate squaring off in a boxing ring, but a simple idea can turn into a nightmare if not properly analyzed and weighed against the risk involved.

When and idea is conceived, the originator must not feel unappreciated or the idea will either stagnate or slip in under the radar. The recipients of the idea must not discard the idea without proper reasoning or the individual presenting will stop presenting. Recipients must also resist the urge to bless the idea because it is "obviously beneficial," potentially starting down a very slippery slope.

Pooh and Piglet press on, the Very Deep Pit is built, seeded with Pooh's Hunny, and the Trap is set. It is only after implementation, upon waking in the middle of the night, that Pooh realizes he has provided the last of his most valuable resources, his Hunny, to the project and the jar is now sitting at the bottom of the Very Deep Pit.

Unfortunately, this is too true in software development as well. The idea is agreed upon, developed, implemented, and then suddenly the realization of the commitment sinks in. Resources are spent that can not be reclaimed and the risk, not fully understood, comes to show at last.

Hopefully the end for us can be that we learn to use a little more discipline and empathy throughout the development process. The consequences of not learning these lessons can be costly and embarrassing; although we likely will not be found wandering around with a Hunny jar stuck atop our heads.

Remember the Sacrifice

I have the privilege of living with the complication of my life but not having to worry about my freedom. This is something that I will never take for granted.

Today is Memorial Day. It is a holiday not just for us to appreciate a day away from work and time with families but it is a day in which we remember those who sacrificed, sometimes everything, for us.

Just in case someone happens across this entry who has become directly impacted in their lives by the sacrifices of their family members, loved one, parents, children or friends, know that today especially I hold them in my heart and prayers every bit as much as they held me -- and all of us -- in theirs.

Thank you, and God Bless.

D&D Wisdom

At the end of the evening last week we wrapped up one story line element. Our new benefactor (NPC) proceeded to reward us by completely healing our warforged fighter with a very paladinish laying on of hands.

Of course, as level 1 characters this seemed a most impressive feat. To put it in perspective (and to keep this post somewhat in focus) I offered into the ensuing conversation, "We look at our benefactor with bewilderment and mutter, 'You are a god!'"

My daughter was sitting in my lap at the time, nearly asleep, and surprised us all by very clearly saying with a voice reflecting a bit of awe, "Mom, you... are... a... god!" So, while it struck us all very funny at the time it made me think...

Yep. Mom, you *are* a god. And we seldom recognize all the work you do.

The Big Sister

When my son was born we fully expected that my daughter would have a period of adjustment to endure. At times we joked that it would be the next 16 years and there is still truth in that. What I did not expect was my daughter's set of reactions in the last 6 weeks.

She is 2.5 and acting all of it and in many ways even older when her brother was born. Personal independence at the fore, she had envisioned herself only important person in the house. Thankfully this behavior, which we are working on daily, is constrained only to the house and our cars.

She has an active interest in her baby brother and wants to see what he does. We were not sure how she would react at the time, but she was absolutely wonderful in helping to prepare his room, crib, changing table, closet, etc as we made her an active part of that process. However, she doesn't recognize any boundaries on when she needs to leave him alone. Pacifiers can be shoved in his mouth with the most honestly good and helpful intent. It can be playtime for them while he is in his crib, trying to relax. And, apparently, sleep is a temporary state which can be invalidated at a moment's notice.

On the other hand, we've encountered a significant amount of regression. Little darling has decided she can play the "I'm a baby" card at will. She claims that she needs diaper changes, to be rocked to bed, to sleep with us in our room, and the most frustrating item being that she can cry whenever she doesn't get her way. We've lost all of the good potty training we'd had, although apparently she still takes herself while at daycare.

But, in the end, she is watching out for his best interests, at least as much as can be understood by a 2.5 year old. When he cries she tries to comfort him. When it's dinner time she makes sure he has a seat at the table. When he won't stop crying she offers to get his medicine. She enjoys holding him and he now smiles back at her. They snuggle together on the couch in the most darling positions. And, probably the best sign of success that has been there from day 1, she talks more proudly about him than I do to everyone she knows. (Even if it does include a little too much detail about "his owies" than most people need to hear.)

Childhood Truth

My daughter, finger on the pulse of reality, recently said:
"It's not sweet candy, it's chocolate!"

QFT.

Prescious Wisdom

If you haven't heard by now, my son was born and has several issues. They are all things that can be addressed but he will be highly monitored for at least the first several years of his life. My daughter, at 2 1/2, has done an absolutely amazing job of maintaining a normal life while her parents are flipping out, short-fused, and emotionally spent.

About a week after the boy was moved to the children's' hospital in town we took the girl to see her brother. I was in the room with her and had placed her on a chair at crib-side. While she was admiring him, gently feeling arms and hair, smelling him, but being very careful he woke up enough to start fussing.

Without any prompting, my daughter took his hand, moved close to him, and softly said "It OK, I here." Then she gently caressed his cheek with the back of her free hand while I went off to a corner to grab Kleenex.

She's becoming a big sister right before our eyes. It is a role she appears to be relishing and I couldn't be any more excited or floored by her compassion and understanding.

That's my girl! May God continue to spread His love through you.

Shake Your "Groove Thing"

This morning proved to be quite entertaining. Between frustration and fascination I am caught with the observations of my self-defining 2 year old daughter.

It appears that my daughter has picked up a new clue. To put things in context, we engaged in delightful conversations, as much as that term applies, covering the range of finishing cereal, wanting juice and which juice, wanting an orange and wanting to squish bananas. Then, during the usual morning struggle over breakfast, dancing or playing and not wanting to go to daycare, I took my lunch box and portfolio to the car as much to give me a break and a chance to cool down as to speed up the inevitable support getting my daughter into the car. When I returned all of 30 seconds later, my daughter asked for a bag for her orange, her sunglasses and her coat. Yep, she started getting herself ready for the ride to daycare. Moments later she was in coat with sunglasses in one had and bag of oranges in the other. If she is using preparing the car as the clue to get ready to go I will be delighted.

On the way to daycare I stopped around the corner to fill up the car. I'd rather not run it on fumes. She sat happily in the back seat, radio playing, watching the cars and trucks move about the lot. With the extra influx of trucks supporting clean-up of the ice storm she was in heaven pointing out all of the "differen" (still missing the 't' on the end) big trucks, often accompanied by "oh, another one" and a finger pointing. I left her in the car and pumped gas. She continued to point and made the effort to talk to me through the rear window, looking back over her shoulder since she was restrained in her car seat still.

Minutes later I settled back into the driver's seat and my daughter was still giggling and babbling about trucks. KC & the Sunshine Band was on the radio. You can probably guess what was playing from the title of this post. Just as I was making my way through the lot I hear, "Shake boo boo, Daddy! Shake!" Somewhat shocked, I quickly hit deliberate word confusion mode, singing, "Shake your groove thing" to prevent any unnecessary learning and then started asking if she wanted to dance. We had as reasonable a dance session, enjoying the remainder of the song, as could be had while I was driving and she was strapped in her chair. When the song ended she disappointingly asked for me to play "Shake Shake" again.

I'm still smiling about it and probably will the rest of the day.

Shields Up!

Sorry to have to do this, but some people can't leave well enough alone. Comment Moderation enabled. Only registered users may post.

From this point forward:
I will remove off-topic comments with no remorse if they would impose on the comfort level of readers.

If you are thinking about posting, think about the response you may generate and use some (un)common sense. Should you have strong opinions that you believe the world needs to hear I encourage you to take your vigor and create your own blog. I am less likely to moderate a link that users can choose to follow than books published via comments to my posts.

Have respect and you will be treated in kind.