Happy Birthday Parker

Three years ago today, I gave birth to this little monkey.



It is a privilege and a pleasure to be his mother. Happy Birthday Parker! I wish you all of the happiness and perseverance in the world. Now, please excuse me while I go back to reliving the minute-by-minute details of that wonderful (and painful) day.

A Boy And His Dad

I must admit, I'm spoiled. It's an undeniable fact. The Irishman is a ridiculously good father who takes Parker anywhere and everywhere without complaint. They have so much fun together. I don't ever worry about them when I'm away from home, which really makes it easier to leave for work.

I got a taste of the action that I missed, so of course I'm sharing it with you. First, they went to ClayMates, which is one of those places where you paint pottery and then they fire it for you. Parker wanted to paint a bulldozer.



I wonder who influenced the use of insanely bright yellow paint?? It's seriously becoming an epidemic in my house. As an aside, the Irishman came back from Pittsburgh a couple of weeks ago with MORE yellow shirts. Someone please explain to me why they were necessary because I am at a total loss. I keep threatening to shave my head or start dressing like a transient, but he just laughs at my threats because he knows that I'm too vain for that. Anyway, back to his Holy Cuteness. Check out this face.



He's clearly having a great time painting his bulldozer that mind-numbingly hideous color. Once I get the finished product back from the store, I'll be sure to share it with you.

Then, they headed off to the park, where my future star practiced his soccer skills.



The Irishman hates that he never picked a sport to excel at in his youth and wants Parker to have an experience more similar to mine with my 12 years of competitive swimming. We've agreed that he can participate in the sport of his choice, but that we hope by 7 or 8, he'll pick a single one to move forward with. As a criminologist, I know that sports will keep him out of trouble. As a former graduate student, I know that it will help him develop a solid work ethic. As a mom, I want him to be well-rounded. As a fan, I want to cheer him on to greatness...but no pressure Parker :)



As long as he's having fun, we'll support whatever he'd like to do. In the meantime, I'll keep showing him footage of Michael Phelps and Ryan Lochte in secret.

Philadelphia

Philly was an interesting city. With the pervasive sewer smell and the large transient population of homeless folks and prostitutes walking past swanky hotels and chic restaurants, it was everything I expected it to be. While the city attempts to rival New York and Chicago for big city swagger, there's something very blue-collar about it. Kind of like a $2 hooker in a real fur coat, the gloss of the city doesn't entirely cover it's seediness.

With that said, we had gorgeous weather and I got to do everything that I had set out to accomplish.



I have no idea why this fountain was spewing green water. It looked kind of like anti-freeze. Perhaps the locals were green with envy of the Yankee victory the night before?



This is Independence Hall, where the Declaration of Independence was debated and adopted. Being there was seriously cool.



And here we have George Washington, who had very well-turned calves if the statue is an accurate assessment of his physique. I hear that well-turned calves were all the rage back in the 1700s.

After getting thoroughly searched (seriously, they weren't messing around), we walked around to the back of Independence Hall. They have a statute of Barry, an Irishman who was the founder of the Navy.



He's pointing into the distance. In fact, a large number of statutes all around the city are also pointing. To the coast? To the invading British army? Who knows, but I couldn't stop myself from looking in the direction of their pointed finger every time I saw a statute.

Now, let's get to the good stuff. The Liberty Bell is kept in a building fairly close to Independence Hall. You first walk through a small museum of sorts that spells out the history of the Liberty Bell. This display caught my eye because of the Greek word on top, which roughly means both freedom and liberty.



I flew through the museum and make a b-line for the prize.



"Proclaim Liberty throughout all the Land unto all the Inhabitants thereof."

Finally, I walked two miles to get to this.



The statue was much larger than I thought it was going to be, particularly given Stallone's small real life size.



It was such a gorgeous day and Rocky was very inspiring. You know what's coming next.



I got to run the steps! Random school children were laughing at me, but I didn't care. Some things are beyond embarrassment.

Here's the view from the top.



Feeling content and fulfilled, I happily walked the two miles back into town to eat some sushi. Mission accomplished.

Flying On A Jet Plane

Tomorrow, I leave for Philadelphia. I've never been there before, but I hear that it has a lot to offer. While I'll be networking and presenting at the conference for most of my trip, there's always a change to get out there and experience some of the city. Primarily, I have three things in mind.

My number one objective is the Philadelphia Museum of Art. I wish I could say that the reason I have to go here is a sophisticated one, but it's not. It's, well, I'll show you.



I simply have to get a picture of this statute. With this statute. On the statute. I'm a sucker for the underdog and Rocky is their mascot. Oh, and I'll have to run the steps and thrust my fists into the air. It's cheesy, it's cliche, it's a dream of mine.

Once I've done that, I can then do the cultural sightseeing. I'm looking forward to seeing the Liberty Bell as well. I used to be fascinated with the American Revolution. I had a pair of American flag high-top Converse in high school and considered myself an unwavering patriot. While some of those sentiments have faded in the intervening years, my patriotic tendencies are now concentrated in the civil liberties area. You know, "Liberty or Death" and all that.



And of course, no trip to a coastal city would be complete without this.



It's good to know that my priorities are still in place.

Dreams DO Come True

Last week when Parker, the Irishman and his mother went to Dillsboro, they were surprised by the arrival of the Great Smokey Mountains Railroad Train.



As you know, Parker is obsessed with trains. He plays with them when he's awake and talks about them in his sleep. This, my dears, was like having his dreams come to life.



When the engineer saw his fascination and excitement, he welcomed the Irishman and Parker on board.



And then things got seriously cool. Parker got to go inside of the engine car.



Look at this little munchkin holding the brake. Seriously, there is nothing more thrilling in his world and the look on his face is just priceless.



To cap off the experience, the engineer let him blow the "5 minute warning" whistle and the Irishman said that he was literally beside himself with excitement. As I walked in the door later that afternoon, Parker told me all about it and I thought to myself, there's a seriously good chance that pulling the train whistle might very well be his first concrete memory when he grows up. That would be pretty dang cool.

Pumpkin Carving

Carving a pumpkin is serious business. Of course with Parker, everything is serious business. The Irishman helped Parker pick a pumpkin template and they decided on a goofy looking pumpkin. Parker is still too young to seek out scary things. His version of Halloween was more Mickey Mouse than Michael Meyers. After they picked out the template, they stuck it on the pumpkin and started tracing it with a special tool.



Parker was blessed with way more patience for tedious tasks than most adults I know.



The Irishman said that it took them about 30 minutes to trace the stencil and that Parker was working with him for the entire task. Once they got it traced, they had to cut out the individual pieces.



I'm sure that Parker can't wait until he can wield knives on his own, but for now, he's fine with being a helper. Look at the seriousness of his face. I guarantee that if you had called his name right then, he wouldn't have heard you. When he's in the zone, he tunes everything else out.



Finally, about an hour later, Parker proudly posed next to his finished pumpkin.



I think they did a great job and I'm thrilled that we have the time and resources to make a big deal out of all of the holidays. The traditions and rituals of this season are what I remember most fondly from my childhood, so hopefully, Parker will as well.

Why Halloween Is Bad

Hi folks. Things have been totally nuts here this week. I've had guest lecturers coming in and tests to write, nevermind the fact that I'll be in Philadelphia for most of next week. Whew! It looks like I'm going to try to stay just one step ahead of every deadline for the rest of the semester. Kind of like Indiana Jones in the Temple of Doom when the boulder is chasing him and he keeps peeking over his shoulder. I haven't been flattened by my work yet, but it's getting a little too close for comfort these days. Perhaps I should start bringing a whip with me to work.

Anyway, I've missed a lot of Parker's holiday activities this week, but fortunately, his Nana (my mother-in-law) has been here and has been taking pictures to help me stay on top of what I've missed. Well, yesterday was the Halloween party at his pre-school. Two sets of parents were in charge of "snacks" for the event. They translated "snacks" to mean "treats" and brought sugar. Lots of sugar. Here's the Irishman helping Parker decorating his sugar cookie with icing and sprinkles.



Parker is fortunate that he had his father with him there because the second that I saw the mounds of icing and marshmellows and cookies and chocolate, I would have faked an illness, snatched up Parker and made a run for it. There's good reason for my fear of sugar if you'll recall his second birthday party.

Parker was very proud of his decorated cookie.



And then. And then. Well, just look.



Oh dear. Parker, mind yourself, you're in public. As I was scrolling through the pictures, I was afraid of what came next.



This, ladies and gentlemen, does not look like my child. These are the eyes of an addict. He's on his high and he's looking for another fix. It's a frightening look to see on your child's face. Come back to us Parker. Move away from temptation.

After they left the party, they took Parker to the playground to get it all out of his system. When I got home yesterday at 6pm, Nana and the Irishman looked like they were about to fall over and Parker was jumping on the couch.

I've come to a conclusion and it is this. Sugar is evil. Particularly in a concentrated form and in high doses.