Well the day has finally arrived that our boy has used the potty for something other than peeing….yikes!  

We could not be prouder of our little stinker.

Cool Quote: “It looks like chocolate, but I can’t eat it!”

Resist. Multiply. Use some wipes!

So today Bridget and I decided it would be fun to take Jacob to see his first movie. There was a limited release of a “Thomas the Train” movie that we both thought would be perfect. I bought the tickets online and we headed out to the theater in beautiful Cedar Grove, New Jersey. Jacob was excited and we both were pumped to see his reaction when the movie started playing on the big screen. We purchased popcorn and we sat down in the dark arena. Then there was trouble…

Apparently, the theater, a less than updated cinema, had a power outage the morning of the showing. The movie projector was fried and countless families sat in the theater waiting, and waiting for a movie that was never starting. Luckily, Jacob is friendly and he befriended another little boy who was growing quite restless, as well.

Long story short, after 50 plus minutes of waiting and several attempts on my  part and Bridget’s to get the theater to start the film or at least admit it was not going to happen - we finally left. We got our money back and headed to Friendly’s for lunch.

Jacob said he loved the movie. We are thankful he does not really understand what he was missing. I think he thought it was all about just playing and eating popcorn in the dark.

So I guess he had a fun day despite my disappointment. His first movie will have to wait….

Here are some pictures from the day.

Jacob sitting in his movie chair.

Waiting to eat his Friendly’s meal.

Eating his ice cream cone treat.

Making a mess of it. Priceless.

So Bridget, Jacob, and I have all started back to school. For Bridget it is the same routine she has been used to the last two years while I was home with the little warrior. For me, I have to admit after the first day I was seriously considering leaving education and finding another job in the world of paint. Of course, this was a normal feeling after so many changes that had become comfortable and welcome - as the main caregiver the last two school years.

I returned to fourth grade (a new grade level for me), a new school, and the thought that I most certainly will not be seeing as much of my son as I had grown accustomed. It was culture shock for that first day.

After an almost full week (four days because of Labor Day), I am back on the bike so to speak. I feel comfortable, confident, and pretty secure in the assumption that I can do this for the next 24 years or so. I’m back.

Jacob, on the other hand, is in a world of hurt. The first few days were fine for him. My mother watched him everyday until he began nursery school on Wednesday. That’s when the castle began to crumble.

The first morning I dropped him off and he seemed eager to go - after months of saying “that’s your school” as we drove by it all summer long. I brought him into the school and we met Ms. Monica, one of the teachers. She seemed very kind and Jacob was okay with a hug and a kiss goodbye from me. He didn’t cry - or so I thought.

I left and arrived at school ten minutes later. I taught all morning, with thoughts of him in my head, and then I received an upsetting email from the woman who cares for Jacob the three afternoons he goes to school. She said he cried almost all morning and was asking to go home. I was so disappointed and heartbroken to hear that he did not enjoy his morning. The rest of his day was more blissful, as he really likes Gal and staying with her for lunch and a nap.

I arrived home that afternoon, after picking Jacob up at Gal’s, and I spoke with Bridget about what happened. We both agreed that CHANGE is hard. I had survived mine the week before, and he was going to survive his. We sent Jacob back on Thursday and Friday morning.

Each day he cried when I left (I’m the lucky one who gets this job - since I start my day ten minutes later), but he also stopped crying shortly after I left. I am okay with that for now. The big picture of socialization and learning is much more important than a few tears.

The hardest part in all of this is that as a parent we all have to let go a little. At two and half, Jacob is more of a person than ever. To keep him isolated from the world could be tougher later on. So he will go to nursery school - whether he likes it or not.

Hopefully he will like it more in time. We think he will. Of course, for now we will have to put up with, “I don’t want to go to school anymore.”

I know what you mean, brother. I know what you mean.

Resist. Multiply. Don’t cry when your kid does.

A buddy of mine from way back just opened his own restaurant in the town I grew up in. Jacob, Bridget, myself, and my parents all got lunch there today. The food is excellent, the prices are low, and the service is top-notch! Check it out here.

Tell Steve that Dean sent you…

Bridget, Jacob, and I are off to Florida to visit some family tomorrow. I will try my best to update you on the goings on, but I cannot promise anything. If you wind up going a few days without TRIBE please feel free to read some past posts. We’ve been at this gig for a year now, and I am certain you haven’t read everything yet. Wish us safe travels.

-Dean

Resist. Multiply. Enjoy a summer vacation or two.

Here is a clip from our recent trip to London. My talented wife’s choir sang in St. Paul’s Cathedral. Christopher Wren would be proud.

Wren and St Paul’s

St Paul’s has always been the touchstone of Wren’s reputation. His association with it spans his whole architectural career, including the thirty-six years between the start of the new building and the declaration by parliament of its completion in 1711.

Wren had been involved in repairs of the old cathedral since 1661. In the spring of 1666, he made his first design for a dome for St Paul’s. It was accepted in principle on August 27, 1666. One week later, however, the Great Fire of London reduced two-thirds of the City to a smoking desert and old St Paul’s to a ruin. Wren was most likely at Oxford at the time, but the news, so fantastically relevant to his future, drew him at once to London. Between 5 and 11 September he ascertained the precise area of devastation, worked out a plan for rebuilding the City and submitted it to Charles II. Others also submitted plans. However, no new plans proceeded any further than the paper on which it was drawn. A rebuilding act which provided rebuilding of some essential buildings was passed in 1667. In 1669, the King’s Surveyor of Works died and Wren was promptly installed.

Wren’s “warrant design” for St Paul’s.

‎ It was not until 1670 that the pace of rebuilding started accelerating. A second rebuilding act was passed that year, raising the tax on coal and thus providing a source of funds for rebuilding of churches destroyed within the City of London. Wren presented his initial “First Model” for St Paul’s. This plan was accepted, and demolition of the old cathedral began. By 1672, however, this design seemed too modest, and Wren met his critics by producing a design of spectacular grandeur. This modified design, called “Great Model”, was accepted by the King and the construction started in November, 1673. However, this design failed to satisfy the chapter and clerical opinion generally; moreover, it had an economic drawback. Wren was confined to a “cathedral form” desired by the clergy. In 1674 he produced the rather meagre Classical-Gothic compromise known as the Warrant Design. However, this design, called so from the royal warrant of 14 May 1675 attached to the drawings, is not the design upon which work had begun a few weeks before.

Wren’s cathedral as built.

The cathedral that Wren started to build bears only a slight resemblance to the Warrant Design. In 1697, the first service was held in the cathedral when Wren was 65. There was still, however, no dome. Finally in 1711 the cathedral was declared complete, and Wren was paid half of his salary that, in the hope of accelerating progress, Parliament had withheld for fourteen years since 1697. The cathedral had been built for 36 years under him, and the only disappointment he had about his masterpiece is the dome: against his wishes the commission engaged Thornhill to paint the inner dome in false perspective and finally authorized a balustrade around the proof line. This diluted the hard edge Wren had intended for his cathedral, and elicited the apt parthian comment that “ladies think nothing well without an edging”.^[7]

In just two short days Bridget and I will depart for France and England with a tour of high school choir students. Owen will keep things going in my absence, but I have plans to write some international pieces when I return. Jacob will be in good hands with my overjoyed parents - as he gets a week of pampering I am sure to not have had as a child. We will miss him, but he is too young for this trip.

For now, I offer my congratulations to the United States men’s soccer team for an amazing 2 - 0 win over number one ranked Spain. They may not be the best team in the world, but they beat the current best team with true grit and determination. I will be cheering for them in France on Sunday.

Until I return, keep resisting, keep multiplying, and keep reading our blog!

-Dean

Today I went back to my former school - one in which I spent two years before Jacob was born and I began my  journey into parenting as a stay-at-home papa. I had not visited this whole entire school year for any number of reasons. The number one reason probably was that I was not going to go back to the school. Instead I was starting fresh in my former former school (yes, I know I wrote that twice). So I guess you could say I was a little bit over being around elementary school teachers.

At any rate, I decided last week that there were a few people who I wanted to visit with Jacob. I sent an email and made my plans to venture in and basically say “goodbye” to those that I valued and valued me. Most people there I had lost touch with - probably because I was a guy in a school with almost 100 percent women, and probably because being a stay-at-home dad is not really the most popular decision a guy makes. Whatever the reasons, I was out of touch and out of time (I can see Hall and Oates getting their lawyers ready as I write that last line - YIKES).

So I made my decision to return to the school that I was not really going to return to in September. See you in whenever….

Of course, two days before I made my trek back, a hard knot started to form in my forehead, above my eye brow with no place to be hidden, as a result. I looked in the mirror to see what was brewing and sure enough it was an enormous, hideous, disgusting ZIT! Oh crap, I thought. Just what I need on my head before I go and see all these people. Thanks. Thanks for nothing.

What I did next, I know I should not have done, but I had to do it. You know how it is. It is not like you are free from guilt here, either. You’ve all played around with the ZIT as it begins to form. You’ve all done a little digging, a little squeezing, and a little pinching. Don’t try to deny it. I did the same thing that all of you have done way before me. I played doctor. I thought I was doing myself a service, but in reality I made things a hell of a lot worse.

I tried to pop it. I tried to squeeze the huge, monster-sized, pea-shaped disaster that had formed above my eye brow with no place to be hidden on my almost clear face. I took both thumbs and I really layed into that s-o-b. It did nothing. It did not move and squirt out anything except a thick, yellowish liquid. My head ached, and the ZIT stared back at me - now red and very pissed off. I could feel its heartbeat in my brain and I began to panic. I took tweezers and an pin and poked it. Nothing changed. Well almost nothing. The ZIT changed. It grew angry and more annoyed at my prodding fingers. It turned purple with a yellow center. I swear it looked like something out of the movie “Something About Mary”. Gross. Yuck. Ack.

I came downstairs from my lab (the bathroom) with a piece of tissue stuck to the wound. Jacob asked me, “What’s that, daddy?” I told him it was a boo-boo and Bridget just shook her head. “Why did you play with it? You knew this would happen.”

She was right. I knew and I did it anyway. I thought this one would be different. This one would yield to my hands and break open as I applied a little pressure. WRONG. No change here - except from bad to worse.

Thank god for a clean shower - spraying hot water on an open sore. Thank god for neosporin. Thank god for two days of not picking at it before entering my former school.

The day finally came and my ZIT was really gone for all intents and purposes. Of course, in its wake, was a scab the size of a dime. At least I had replaced it with something more disgusting.

When will I ever learn? Zit happens and we should leave it at that.

Resist. Multiply. Pop ‘um if you’ve got ‘um - or not. Enjoy this clip:

I discovered a copy of an awesome book entitled, “Rhinoceros Tap” in our home bookshelf tonight. It is a great story to read to your toddler because there is a fun CD that comes with it. There are 15 songs that go along with the story and I found it especially entertaining for me and for Jacob. He was dancing and bopping his head to the music. I highly recommend it.

The book also has a second section with sheet music and the full lyrics - so talented people like Bridget can play the piano and sing the songs to Jacob the Dancing Warrior.

Listen to the songs here.

Resist. Multiply. Buy this book!