C'mon, just a little smooch!

Meet Stella.  Her sister, Abbey, is in the background

This is not Hammy, fortunately.  Hammy, as discussed a few weeks ago, went to the giant spinning wheel in the sky.  This is Stella.  She is adventurous enough to visit the newly-attached studio apartment at least one more time than I have witnessed her sister doing.

Her first reaction to being picked up is not to bite (unlike her sister - we'll get to her eventually).  If she sees you near the cage she'll come over to visit - probably hoping you have food, but whatever.  She is also less-strictly nocturnal than Abbey or either of the Hammys, for instance I didn't have to wake her up to take the above photo.

Happy Birthday KIM!

How did I get so lucky?

My beautiful bride, Kim, has known me about half of her life.  I've known her almost half of mine.  I am continually reminded how blessed I am that we found each other, that she found me funny enough to talk to that first day, and that she said yes to marrying me.  She is definitely more than I deserve.



Story time?

Kim is a phenomenal mother, heightened by the fact that they have her double-teamed virtually every weekday morning. Each of our boys has their quirks, as all children do, and they are completely disparate in their habits, mannerisms and personalities.  The gentle suggestion that nudges our youngest to help set the dinner table may fall to cotton-filled ears on our eldest.  And the hint of a new activity that thrills the latter is met with fearful eyes by the former.

Awww!

Kim is a loving daughter, sister and friend.  If she has suggested meeting for coffee, an outing or exercise, that is an appointment which must be kept, and other activities will be scheduled around it.

Even looking outside our house... surrounded by stinky boys.

She has endured all manner of sporting events, with associated highs and lows, as a spectator (Chiefs, Sonics, etc), participant (bowling, swimming), and interested bystander (March bracket craziness) that come from being surrounded by boys.

I can't express how valuable she is to us.  She is special.  She is loved.  And she is one day older than she was yesterday.

YES WE DO!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

What have We Here?

Everyone has stumbled across something they forgot they had.  You're vacuuming the back seat of the car and find the sunglasses you loved last summer.  Or you clean out a dresser drawer and there's a belt you replaced six months ago.  You dig out a winter coat and there's a bill in the pocket - in the two seconds it takes to pull it in front of your eyes and unfold it there are limitless possibilities (If it's a buck, that could mean a Coke from the vending machine; $5 means I'm going out to lunch; $10 means I'm going out to lunch at a place that has waiters or waitresses; $20?!? Well now that may be worth saving for a hat you've been eyeing or going out for pizza instead of staying home.  Larger?!?)

I put a coat on last week that I hadn't worn since the fall.  Just like above, I reached in the pocket and instantly knew what my fingers had wrapped around.  I knew what it was, knew what it been used for. 

I had found a test strip. 

Found test strips are an endless source of bewilderment for a T1D parent.  We burn through them like Kojak with lollipops, and sometimes a wastebasket isn't handy. At 1:30 am, when you've tiptoed down a flight of stairs, stubbed your toe twice but can't yell 'cause you'll wake the house, you're fighting a low and get "Error-5" your immediate thought is not "I must carefully place this in the trash bin", it's "ARRRGH!! I HAVE TO DO IT ALL AGAIN?!!".

And so it gets set on a shelf or flung against a wall, or worse - you just palm it until you need your hand for something else, and so it ends up in a pocket.  Under couch cushions.  In the dog crate?!?  I should keep a log.  If only there were someplace where I can keep track of these things...

Sadie



Got your nose!

Sadie was my test kid.  I believe the decision to get a dog was very clearly a test to see if I could handle being responsible for another living animal.

If you can feed a dog every day - keep them clean, tend to their needs, get them to their doctor's appointments & even make sure they have fun, then you may be responsible and caring enough to handle a human child.  Fail in this mission, and... metaphorically, of course.

And so it was that we found ourselves going to the humane society, then SpokAnimal and finally Northwest Seed & Pet who had available one Jack Russell Terrier, and a Dachshund.  We went home that Saturday leaning toward the terrier because he was cute and that's the kind Frasier's dad had.  That night, as I was working the overnight shift and Kim was home by herself, we independently did enough research to determine we wanted the other one.  JRTs were to excitable, needed tons of exercise and were willing to jump to reach any cat lower than the top of the refrigerator.



Are those Sweet Potato Puffs?

Doxies, however, are love.  They love their people, especially their grown-ups - fine since we didn't have children yet.  Dachshund literally means badger hound, and boy do they love to burrow.  Sadie would go all the way under covers, down to the foot of the bed, even in the heat of summer.  Once in a while she'd come up for air, but even then it was usually just her nose breaching the surface like the periscope of a submarine.

About a week later, I forget if it was Christmas Eve or Christmas Day, after working another crazy overnight shift and coming home, crashing on the couch, I remember waking up to find Sadie in the crook of my elbow.  She had me in her paw from then forward, and I'm pretty sure that's when it was decided yeah, I could handle a kid.



Our first St. Patrick's Day Parade

Sadie was still with us when our children were born, even coming to not run from them on sight - eventually. She wandered, confused, at wiener dog races and marched in the st. Patrick's Day parade - both sponsored by the Dachshund Club.

At about 9 years old she started losing weight and not getting around very well.  Nine isn't old for a dachshund, but it's squarely middle-aged.  Eventually we had to say goodbye.  I may have succeeded in the pass/fail part of the exam, but Sadie was all A-pluses for us.

Arenas and Tenants

I figure I'm supposed to be excited about the prospects for a new arena in Seattle, that it might come with a basketball team, and maybe hockey to boot.  "Didn't you put a Sonics logo on every single art project from 2nd-6th grade," you ask.  Yes, you'd be correct.  Color me skeptical, but I'll believe it when it happens.

In addition to that, it would seem weird to obtain a team in a manner similar to how the Sonics were given away for cents on the dollar by genius Starbucks owner Howard Schultz who should have seen their eyes light up with dollar signs, said to himself "huh? let's check the blue book on this thing... maybe they don't really intend to keep this team in Seattle after all - ooh, is Greg Oden hurt again? sorry Portland" stolen.  The only way I would even harbor that thought is if that team was itself stolen from another city.

The decision to retrofit the old Coliseum in a way that it was obsolete to the NBA within a decade with a hockey capacity too small for the NHL to even consider is a travesty. There are several issues in play regarding the acquisition of any team in both sports.

NBA first.

Sacramento Kings.  Obviously they come to mind because the Maloofs over leveraged their casinos in the last decade.  They can't afford to tip their waitress more than 10%, how can they afford to keep their team?  I don't know.  I do know their mayor spent about 13 years playing in the NBA, and probably views keeping their only big-sport team to be a priority.  I also know that Anaheim has a NBA-ready arena and if forced to decide today between a plot of fill next to Elliott Bay and a turn-key situation that doesn't even require them to leave the state, they're moving south.  (If either city starts seeking state-level help, California would probably prefer to keep whatever tax revenue is generated somewhere within its boundaries.)  The Kings, it's worth noting, moved from Kansas City to Sacramento.  I would feel worse about that, but KC themselves stole the Kings from Cincinnati, 15 years after THEY took the team from Rochester.  The only team that's moved more often than that is the Harlem Globetrotters.

New Orleans Hornets.  Probably the most-eligible candidate - they don't have an owner.  Attendance has struggled, and that is squarely in the heart of football country.  The biggest problem here is probably getting David Stern on board.  Returning a team to Seattle during his tenure will require some pretty serious politicking.  The Hornets have only been in New Orleans about ten years since they abandoned Charlotte.  The irony would be pretty thick that if Katrina hadn't forced them to spend most of two years playing in Oklahoma City to huge crowds, the bargain hunters their may not even have come sniffing after the Sonics.

Memphis Grizzlies.  I've heard no serious whispers about them for the past few years, so the wishful thinking here mostly centers around the former Vancouver, BC team returning to their regional roots.  If you follow Bill Simmons at all, you get a strong feeling that that team was badly mismanaged player personnel-wise during its BC tenure, and that maybe they would have survived under better leadership from their basketball people.  Objectively, this would also allow the league to move the Zombie Sonics to the Southwest Division where they more naturally fit with the three Texas teams than the Northwest Division against teams from cities were we actually get winter.

Now, the NHL.

I have not heard any other teams mentioned than the Phoenix Coyotes as potential moves, which is fine.  A hockey team in Arizona never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever was going to make sense.  They literally couldn't fit in the Phoenix Suns' arena (sounds like it was built exactly like KeyArena to me) with lots of obstructed views and an arena floor not designed to go from one to the other.  Since the gaping hole left when they abandoned in Winnipeg has already been filled, that clearly leaves Seattle as a viable destination. 

Some questions remain: if they had to spend a season or two in the region while the new joint is built, where would that be?  My first thought was, "well duh, they play in Key just to get by".  But why not think bigger than that?  Make this Washington's (and Oregon's) team.  The home season's 80 games - play 20 at Key to establish their "home" footing, then split the remaining 20 between the hockey-ready WHL buildings in Spokane, Kennewick and Portland.  It's only been the last 20 years or so that this became rarer.  The Buffalo Bills playing one game in Toronto every year comes to mind but there may be others.  The Boston Celtics used to do home games in Hartford, the Clippers dipped their own toe in Anaheim for a few years.  Even the Mariners played a series in Vancouver just long enough to turn Edgar Martinez into a DH.

In our house, having tried and failed to interest the single-digit crowd in basketball has repeatedly proved unsuccessful.  But an NHL team?  That's the ticket.  We couldn't interest them in the Super Bowl, but the NHL All-Stars Skills competition?  We're clearing a Saturday.

I look forward to both prospects, and will undoubtedly buy the t-shirts and watch the games when they happen.  But until then, I'll wait and see.

Kaleidescope

Dealing with Type-1 Diabetes provides many many many surreal moments.  Valentine's Day evening produced one of those indellible images to me, and from neither heart-shaped candy, nor heart-shaped pizza.

The view from above.

Pump insets, lancets, cartridge injectors, single-use syringes all produce "medical sharps" which must be disposed of in a manner that won't allow the garbage handles to get accidentally poked.  In our house, that's an old milk jug that currently sits about half-full in our kitchen.  It is safely stored where the adults can reach it, but cannot accidentally spill to the floor.  Out of necessity, we had to move it from its usual location, and in so doing, I looked down the barrel for the first time in probably a year to the image you see above this paragraph.

All the clicks, twists, "error-5"s contained in that jug would tell an amazing story.  School days delayed because of mandatory site changes?  They're in the jug.  "Sure you can have a cupcake, I just need to see your finger first"?  Yep, in the jug.  "I already changed that one this morning"?  Yes, it's in there too.

As we steam ahead toward our 2nd "D-Day", this image will stay with me.  From stacks, drawers and boxes of pump supplies, test strips and multi-clicks, come the cluttered canister in this picture.  Two years of story problems and science projects, filtered down to a half a milk bucket.

Puppy Love on Valentine's Day

Deedee

It's embarrassing, but true - Daisy is my dog.  She loves Kim, tolerates the boys, couldn't give a crumbled Milk-Bone about the cats, but she follows me around, well, like a puppy.

She found us through Dachshund Rescue NW, not long after our previous dachshund, Sadie, passed away at 9 years old.  DRNW was having their Christmas party and we didn't go looking for a replacement, but she was adorable and we were suckers.

The story goes that she was found beside the highway, that someone had thrown her out.  My suspicion is that she jumped.  When she "GETSTOGOINTHECAR" she likes to stick her head out the window like all dogs.  (Well... like most dogs.  We'll get to Lilly one day, I'm sure).  I don't excuse the jerk who didn't stop and retriever her, but I can see a scenario where she was in the back seat with the window down just enough, and the driver not noticing her lean too far.

So on this Valentine's Day, love the people in your life, but save an extra hug for your pets.  And don't shop: Adopt!

Happy Puckiversary

Every year for the past 4-5 years, we would go to a Spokane Chiefs Hockey Game, to see if it would catch on.  Try it on to see if it fits, as it were.  We did the same thing with Spokane Indians Baseball, and various sports on TV - March Madness, Super Bowl, and so on. 

Spokane doesn't have "big league" sports.  That's OK.  We have short-season minor league baseball.  A longer season would be nice, but I've frozen my giblets on too many May Bloomsday mornings to want to spend too many evenings in the uncontrolled out-of-doors before about May 20th.  Memorial Day weekend is usually OK - but about about 25% of the time? Brrrrrrr.  So the season is short, but for 38 home games, it's busy - and parking is free.  $0.  Gratis.  Try that at Safeco Field.

We have arena football - the closest we get to the "majors" - competing in the same division with Phoenix, San Jose and Salt Lake City.  It's not the NFL, but we fill the joint.  Oh, and arena parking is $6.  It was $5 for about the first 15 years the building was open, so I guess we were due for an increase.

Go Chiefs Go!

And so it happened that last February 25th.  The Chiefs were having "school night" with discounted tickets for students & family.  All the way to the arena, a chorus of "we don't want to go to the hockey game" came from the back seat, before it turned into a raucous night of dancing, cheering, and like-we-flipped-a-light-switch hockey fans.  Before that night I couldn't have known the difference between the Prince George Cougars and the Red Deer Rebels - now we have an 8-year-old WHL encyclopedia who knows all the teams, knows that Victoria used to be Chilliwack and that Spokane and Portland are the only US-based teams in the WHL that have won the Memorial Cup.

Game Summary

But that night turned out to be an 8-0 shellacking of PG that set us on the hockey path.  By the end of the evening, we had ourselves our first favorite player "STARTING AT CENTER, NUMMMBER NINE, FROM SPOKANNNNNNE WASHINGTON, TYLERRRRRRRRRR JOHNNNNNSONNNNNNNNN", and had seen out first "hatter" from "NUMBER TWENTY-ONE, ANTHONYYYYY BARDARRRRROOOOOO" (more on him in the weeks to come).  We knew what a "chalupa goal" was, and "game misconduct" too.

Day 1 of our Puck Lives

Scoresheet

Pouncing on that opportunity like a loose puck in front of a rookie goalie, we took advantage of the fact that the last two Fridays were home games - we needed to find out if the interest was real.  That was an unqualified yes.  When the scoreboard says "everybody dance", that's a command.  When there's a goal - you stand and clap.  Go Chiefs Go!

The Chiefs usually have "school night" twice a year - October and February - and so it became that last night was our "first anniversary".  It was a 5-4 slugfest against the Seattle Thunderbirds that probably shouldn't have been that close.  Five different Chiefs netted goals, none of them the big-time scorers.  There was some pushing but no real fights.  And there was popcorn.

Our 1st Puckiversary

Game Summary

Our puckiversary will always be celebrated on the February "school night," regardless of the actual number on the calendar.  Kim was always a good sport about it, but I, selfishly, wanted a sporting endeavor I could share with my sons.  Hockey, it is.  Go Chiefs Go!

115

It was 115 this morning.  Not 1:15 am - his blood glucose.  Phew.

I was asleep when Kim came home last night, as she generously offers a couple of times a week.  So when I finally shake the cobwebs & trudge downstairs at 3:30 it always hits me like a ton of bricks.  Before I proceed getting ready for work, stop to check Bg's.  I'm a zombie about it by now - MUST CHECK BG's.

Let me confess that I still haven't settled on how to write out the phrase "blood glucose"- that's what it is, but it isn't a proper title, so it probably shouldn't be capitalized; blood may be a thing, but it is not a Thing.  Also, should there be an apostrophe?  No.  It isn't really pluralized "blood glucoses".  And the whole thing is short for "blood-glucose level", which is a comparison measurement, but the final dividend is simply a number.  And still, to just shorthand it "bg" seems to understate it's significance to our lives and our son's health.  So, for now I lean towards "Bg's", it's not perfect, but neither am I.

So I come down the stairs, and in the time it takes to insert the strip, wait for the beep, then tiptoe in to get this morning's readings, the same Choose-Your-Own-Adventure list always pops up: What if he's a little high? Breakfast's only 4 hours away, but what's "a little high?"  What if he's crazy high and there's no obvious pizza/pasta trigger from the night before?  What if he's crazy high and needs a pump change, or it has an air bubble.  What if he's through-the-floor low and I can't wake him up enough to pour a quart of apple juice down his gullet?

Now do this every day. Every time he's been out of our hands for a few hours.  Get home from school?  Check Bg's.  They were at home with a babysitter?  Check Bg's.  Boys visiting Camp Grandpa?  Check Bg's.  It's exhausting for us - I can't fathom how tedious for him.

Today it was right down the fairway.  Tomorrow, who knows?  Choose your own adventure.

Hammy



Hammy, but not Hammy

 This is not Hammy.  I mean, his name is Hammy - but this isn't Hammy.   Even Hammy wasn't really Hammy - he was Hammy the Second.

Hammy the Second passed away Sunday night, peacefully falling to sleep and staying there.  Hammy was only with us for about a year and a half - about average for a dwarf hamster, based on minimal research, but he was a part of our family and we will miss him.  In recent months he had visibly slowed and never crawled up the vertical tube to his observation deck.

C's first question when we told him was if Hammy was in heaven.  Our answer was that he had a giant wheel that he could run and run and run on and never get tired.  C also pledged to think of Hammy every time he looked out the window.  Forever is a long time - but I know he made through dinner.  I am amazed at our son's capacity and instinct to care for a pet enough to be concerned with a hamster getting to meet Jesus. 

Hammy the First wasn't here very long - not even two months -  but his stay here fairly paralleled a pretty significant two months in our family: June -August 2010 (D-day through birthday).  There were many middle-of-the-nights that I would wait out the 15 minutes between tests watching him scurry about his cage or pack his cheeks with 27 sunflower seeds.

The cage will remain in place - cleaned & prepped for the next tenant.  A next tenant with probably a 50-50 shot at being named Hammy - but he won't be Hammy either.

Saturday Morning at the Rink

It's amazing how much faster a clear visor makes you. After mom found a beat up helmet at a thrift store for a couple bucks, H is powering around the ice like he owns it. I think it makes him feel like a hockey player, even though he isn't yet. It's amazing to watch them improve at something we never even considered a year ago.

Before last year we went to a game or two a year. Always entertaining, but never the center of our weekend. No you hear "Go Chiefs Go" in our house as often as "did you brush your teeth?"

So here we are...

Hello, and welcome to Hammy, Rufus & Hockey Pucks.

The format of this weblog is still under construction, but just like the only way to be certain your boat is watertight is to put the thing in a lake/ocean/bathtub and see if it stays above the surface. So here we go.  If you are reading this, and not looking over my shoulder, then that means it has been successfully published.

Some entries will be fly-bys typed on the go and uploaded when I pass a wi-fi zone or am at a red light in front of a Starbucks.  Others may be sculpted for days and then posted with an exhausted sigh.

There will be a publishing schedule yet to be determined, but this is going to be fun.  I am excited to begin this process, to see what comes next and what far-flung topics may be visited.  But for now, I'll settle for watertight.