Word of the Day

Today Andrea was up in the boy's room and laid Paxton down on Anthony's bed. Knowing Paxton's tendency to spit up early and often, Anthony quickly admonished, "Paxton, don't spuke on my bed!"

Prairie Air Show 2008

A couple of Saturdays ago Kenrick and Anthony and I spent the day at the Peoria Airport to watch the 2008 Prairie Air Show. It was kind of a cloudy day and threatening to rain, so we didn't know if we'd actually see anything fly or not. The next best thing: pretending to fly the UH-60 Blackhawk.

The boys check out the pointy end of an F-16.

We were hoping that the low cloud cover wouldn't prevent the main attraction from taking off.

We had a good view of the Blue Angels flight line. Ironically, it was the availability of the Blue Angels that required the air show be held in April instead of the usual July time frame. The temperature was nice, but it does rain here in April (just a little), so we were wondering if the gamble was worth it.

At least the jet truck doesn't need clear sky to run. Always a crowd favorite, the truck called Shockwave sports three Pratt & Whitney J34-48 engines that together produce 19,000 pounds of thrust. That's enough to accelerate the full-sized truck to over 370 mph! And produce gobs of flame and smoke and noise for your viewing pleasure.

Finally! The clouds lift enough to start flying. As if this guy needed a high 'ceiling' to do his show.

Skip Stewart makes his custom built bi-plane do things that airplanes aren't supposed to do. Including crabbing down the runway on his side the moment his wheels leave the ground on take-off.

And corkscrewing his plane through the air at a dizzying rate. It's difficult to convey how fast-paced his act is with a still photo, but the picture below gives a hint. The smoke shows where he's been, but the direction he's pointing doesn't necessarily show where he's going.

Most of his show was spent flying sideways or upside down. Some of it backwards. And some of it so low to the ground that if a deer had run across the tarmac he'd probably have had to call his insurance agent. Here he is cutting a streamer that's being held between a couple of tall poles. This is his third pass - on the first two he went under the streamer!

Finally, what's a daredevil show without a game of chicken? With a jet truck?

One of my favorite airplanes is the A-10 Thunderbolt, aka. the Warthog. It's an ugly looking bird, but it's tough as nails, agile, and mean. See the tube sticking out of it's nose? That's a 33 mm GAU-8/A seven-barrel Gatling gun, capable of firing 65 rounds a second at tanks, armored cars, bunkers, or whatever else happens to be in the way.

The A-10 was built to destroy tanks in the Cold War, but has found new life in the Middle East scaring the sandals off bad guys. It's so maneuverable that it can lay down a line of fire then turn around and do it again within 30 seconds. That doesn't leave too much time to get out of the way.

The Blue Angles put on a show worth waiting for. Everything they do is carried out with order and precision, from the time the pilots line up to salute the flight crew and climb into the cockpits to the time they dismount, their actions are coordinated and exact. For most of the show the six planes are divided into a group of four who fly in a variety of formations and two solo planes that demonstrate some of the capabilities of the F/A-18 Hornet. Here's the famous 'delta' formation.

What's cool isn't just that they fly impossibly close to each other, it's that they turn and loop and roll as one, like they were physically locked together, wing tip to canopy. Talk about the ultimate game of follow the leader.

During most of the show the planes fly past at about 300 - 400 mph and their unfiltered jet engines shake the ground with a deep, resonate roar. But at one point, as we were watching the group of four disappear behind us and then obligingly following the advice of the announcer to "look to your right as Captain Whatshisname sets up for the next pass", one of the solo jets came blasting out of the sky from our left in full afterburner, pushing 700 miles an hour. The sound of that is something else all together - a high crackling shriek that about pulls the hair right off your scalp. Scary fast.

Towards the end, the two solo planes joined the group for a six-plane 'delta' formation.

And the boy's favorite, the starburst grand finale.

Spotted Rob and Other Stories

While Andrea and the boys were gone I started to notice a few dry, red spots on my arms. Then my shoulders. And stomach. And back. They just quietly appeared; a little dry welt that sometimes got bigger and sometimes didn't, no itching or blistering or announcements of any kind, and then sat there staring back at me without any indication that they might be going away. They still haven't gone away. I feel like a mis-colored Dalmatian.

Mom guessed ringworm. Dad guessed Rosacea. Andrea did some looking on the web and found something called "Christmas Tree Rash". I went to the doctor last week and he looked on the web and found the same thing that Andrea found. Except he had a more official name for it: Pityriasis Rosea , a once-in-a-lifetime rash that has no known cause. Not a fungus, bacteria, or allergy. Maybe a virus. Emanates from a central spot, which I've had for years on my chest. The doctor said that I was a textbook case. He was wishing he had a camera so that he could send it in to be published. Unfortunately, it doesn't fade for six to eight weeks. I may be spotted for a while.

Last week we took the training wheels off of Anthony's bike. Now I have to run along beside him and hold him up. He wanted them off, and is excited to be learning to ride a "two-wheeler," although I think the whole balance thing has turned out to be a little more difficult than anticipated. He's getting the hang of it; we've only had a few spectacular crashes.

Paxton is three months old. Actually, he was three months a while ago but we've only just recently been able to get organized enough to take his picture. Here he is.

These last three months have just flown. In fact, we almost forgot to do our taxes. Taxes aren't due until April, right? Oh wait, it is April. Paxton is developing his own little personality. Mainly that consists of smiling a lot and chewing on his blanket, but he seems to be figuring out his hands and his voice a little bit too.

Also, three months means more food, so now we're having fun with cereal. The first bite was received with a blank stare. This was followed by some serious tongue action, resulting in most of the spoonful being deposited on the chin, and then a spark of comprehension. "More?"

Last Sunday morning Andrea woke up in a panic. "Rob, we're late! Did you set the alarm?"
"Yes. Oh. I guess I set it for when we have to leave, not when we have to wake up." What a way to start the week.

Mars Cakes?

Andrea had asked Anthony what kind of cake he wanted for his birthday.

"Aliens."

Okaaay. So she put her creative juices on overdrive and wouldn't you know it, Saturday we got a visit from some little critters from Mars. Little critters that looked vaguely like ... cupcakes! They landed right in the middle of the table in a cloud of steam and promptly started exploring.

The back view.
The birthday boy.
Good job Andrea, the aliens were super yummy!

Orienteering in April

I wrote a while back about an activity called Orienteering and have done a couple of local events since then. The co-worker who introduced me to the sport called me up a couple of weeks ago to let me know that there was another event planned at Jubilee State Park, just a few miles from home, would I like to do it with him? Sure, sounds like fun. So we went out and wandered around in the brush for a couple of hours last Saturday. In the mud. And rain. And sleet. Perfect.

It really wasn't too bad. The IRVOC web site said "Super visibility. No poison ivy." I guess that's one way of looking at it. We chose the orange course, at 6.4 km (4 miles) a pretty good run for a cold Saturday morning.

Mike brought along his GPS unit to track how far we really traveled, this is what it looked like

Total distance: 6 miles. Elevation change: 300 ft. Creek crossings: 2. Water in creek from weeks of spring rain: lots. Water in boots after two crossings: gallons.

We didn't really loop around as much as the path above shows - I think the GPS signal was drifting a bit - but you can definitely see a couple of spots where we had to backtrack. I guess we need to practice our map reading and compass pointing skills some more.

We had fun anyway.

The next event is on May 10. I'm thinking of bringing the kids, come out and join us!

The Five Year Itch

Today we celebrated five year's worth of Disaster. I mean Anthony. Our little tornado turned five, I'm not sure how we'll survive the next fifteen.

It's not like he intentionally invites Mishap and Misfortune along for the ride, but somehow they join in anyway. Witness today's episode:

"Anthony, go down and get your shoes on while I'm in the bathroom, we need to leave for the doctor's office."

"Okay."

[silence]

"Mommy?"

"What Anthony?"

"I had an accident."

(notice, no shoes)

Oh, well. We ate the watermelon for supper and the floor will only be sticky for a few days.

Anyway, birthdays are supposed to be happy events, and supper was Anthony's choice: macaroni and cheese ("home-made" that is), corn, the aforementioned watermelon, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Perfect. And no party is complete without cake and ice cream. Mom went all out. Anthony's a happy boy.

To be fair, Andrea is making him a little more elaborate birthday dessert for this weekend. I can't tell you what it is though, that would spoil the surprise.

On the other hand, maybe we are seeing some effects of New Baby Wanting Attention 24-7, as evident by this unique and innovative method of wrapping presents:

1. Feed Paxton.
2. Open biggest garbage bag you can find.
3. Stuff bag full of presents.
4. Change Paxton's diaper.
5. Tie the top of the bag with a ribbon.
6. Attach card.
7. Feed Paxton.

Anthony's a happy boy.

We'll have some pictures of the presents in a few days.

Happy birthday little buddy!

Home, Safe and Sound

Tuesday afternoon I went back down to St. Louis to see if there might be three little boys and a pretty girl there who would like a ride home. There was. Hurray! Kenrick and Anthony came running out of terminal and about knocked me over. Paxton was sitting proud and goggling about from his sling, and the pretty girl gave me a kiss. Perfect. I'm glad to have them home. The ruckus level has increased significantly.

Here's a few more pictures from their trip.

Kenrick and Tristan played some baseball with Byron. That looks like a hit!

Paxton secure in Grandpa's paws.

Nampa with the rest of the cousins, and waiting for the ice cream truck. Grandpa Scott's treat!
And what else are Grandma's good for but letting us make an enormous mess? Time to put together pizza; everyone gets their own kid-sized crust and all the pepperoni we can pile on top.
Time for a story.
Thanks again Grandpa and Grandma, all four of you. We never lack for fun or love when we make the trip to Idaho!