Are We Having Fun Yet?

Elodie is about 25 months old. She's a fun toddler, fully of energy, running everywhere, relatively short attention span, a growing vocabulary, and frequent bouts of frustration at not being able to express herself fully or simply being told no, what she wants at that moment isn't possible/practical/feasible.

In short, a perfectly normal toddler.

I've spent a large portion of my life around babies & toddlers so I'm mentally tracking her progress and development. My ears perk up when she suddenly uses full sentences, or fully articulates 2-3 syllable words. She has solid recognition of colours, visually & verbally. She gets shapes and can name the simple ones. She can recognize & recite numbers and letters although she doesn't yet get that the digits symbolize a count of objects.

There are things which come with this toddler which are new to my experience. This kid comes with her favourite shows, movies, music and games. And watches them obsessively & repeatedly.

I swear to god, I am going to burn down Mickey Mouse's fucking clubhouse before this month is over.

And what's the deal with this so-called Doc McStuffins? She's supposed to be a cute kid with a gig a toy doctor, but she's more like a capricious demon, bringing toys to life on her whims to perform for her entertainment, and she then silences them with a gesture, cruelly snatching away the life she once granted. With musical dance numbers. This is childrens' entertainment?!

Elodie has this particular game on her tablet. For each round, a series of cut-out coloured shapes appear on the left half of the screen, and holes which match the shapes & colours appear on the right. The child then uses her finger to drag each shape to the correct hole, matching shape & colour. There is a small caterpillar which obsessively crawls towards the place on the board where she last touched the screen, sometimes obscuring a shape or hole. For every correctly placed piece, the caterpillar acquires a balloon, and when all pieces are in place, the caterpillar floats up to the top of the screen and fades away as the board is removed and a new one is presented.

I've explained to Elodie that the caterpillar is actually a zombie which is pursuing her to consume her brain. When she completes the board, the caterpillar is released from his curse and his ghost floats up to heaven, aided by the balloons she earned for him. Otherwise, he's doomed to traverse the mortal plane, terrorizing toddlers like her forever. I didn't tell her about killing it with a head shot, but she has enough to think about now. She still plays but she seems more serious about it...

So that's my home life right now. Between diaper changes, anyway.

I'm not planning to die any time soon, or at all. While I'm assured that my death is inevitable in perhaps 40-50 years' time, I'm personally against it. I am by nature a cautious person so it seemed prudent to ensure I'm prepared for my theoretical demise.

We already have wills in place to dispose of my earthly assets. And while I'd prefer to be buried body intact and in a nicely appointed coffin (dark wood finish, brass fixtures, free wifi), getting my hydrocarbons across an international border would require significant effort by my executor, not to mention a great deal of money. It would be vastly easier to cremate me and carry my ashes in one's carry-on bags.

While we were in the Charlton area, I stopped by the township hall to talk with the clerk, Gisele Belanger, to enquire how one goes about being placed in the Brentha Cemetary near my childhood farm.

My parents (also still alive) have a plot there, I-16. Gisele informed us that a plot may contain a coffin & three cremains, or a total of five cremains. My parents are planning to be cremated so as long as my parents stop by the office to officially RSVP me into their plot, my position is guaranteed. There is an administrative fee of $265 if it were to happen today, but otherwise all expenses are covered.

The cemetary contains a lot of childhood memories for me. Rather, it contains a lot of people I knew. I went to school with several occupants. Some I knew through church. Some we shared a telephone party line with, while others were merely neighbours we sometimes saw. There were parents or grandparents of my childhood friends. There was my bus driver for my first & second grade, as well as the fellow who was the janitor of my elementary school, buried with his late wife. There was the couple who owned sold us our farm, and their extended family. There was the local telephone switchboard operator until the systems went digital in the early 1970s. And so on. I could give a mini-biography on nearly 2/3 of the people at rest there. And I'm intrigued by the ones I didn't recognize: there are no more families named Goldstein, Schultz or Kiehna in the area, and I'm curious what brought them, and why happened to their descendants.

Like any good story, I'm left with a lot of answers, but a few extra questions too.

There isn't much to say about today, travel-wise. We slept in a bit, then joined some of the clan at the Alma Country Diner for lunch.

I've noticed a pattern in Florida dining establishments: When they tell you the wait for a table is X, it is most likely to be 2X. I have never been seated immediately at any establishment, but that says much of our poor timing concerning peak dining hours here (see prior post). My general rule is that I'm willing to wait 15-20 minutes for table; beyond that, I would prefer a different establishment, grab a bite through some fast-food drive-through, or visit a grocery store.

In each instance this weekend, we were quoted a 30 minute wait. The quickest of these waits however was 58 minutes, the longest 74 minutes.

I'm unsure if the staff are blissfully unaware of their actual turnover of tables, or perhaps they lied knowing that customers wouldn't wait an hour. Or perhaps by some random chance we managed to hit a genuine timing mistaken/clerical error with every restaurant visit we made.

Aside from the late lunch, we went to a local manatee preserve to see some of the local wildlife. Alas, the viewing season for the manatees in this location is January-February so we saw nothing but the park itself and its waterfront. At the moment, the river is too warm for the beasts as they prefer temps of 65-70 degrees F, so the manatees are out among the gulf shallows. Still, nice park.

This evening at dusk, we distributed the rest of Kent's mother's ashes. We had previously scattered some in Frederick, MD, an area she loved but at a particularly beautiful site with a view to their home in the distance. Today, we scattered some at the RV park's memorial pavillion and at their RV site. No tears, just happy memories.

Dad will be coming back to Maryland in the first week of April and we will be aggressively preparing the house for sale. I'm sure he just wants the project over & done, although he's not going to be taken for a ride concerning the pricing of the house. There's priced-for-sale and then there's priced-by-a-moron, and he's not a moron. We'll help move some of the contents, distributing pieces to relatives, getting surplus items to charity and shipping the items which Ralph will keep. My personal goal is to ensure everything is ready for a sales close well before Labour Day to get the best possible timing for a good price.

As we returned to our motel room tonight, I noticed yet another cultural activity I had never seen before: some families in our motel had parked charcoal grills in the grassy strip in front of their motel rooms to cook. Interesting.

I have several theories about this but have no information or experience which would indicate which is correct. It could be that the family simply prefers home-cooked meals, perhaps for cultural, religious or dietary reasons. Alternatively, it could be a cost-saving measure as dining out as a family regularly while also paying for a motel may stretch one's resources. Or it could be that some are semi-permament motel residents, sheltered & subsidized here by the county authority, but since the rooms lack a kitchen, this is an improvised way of cooking at home as desired, again saving precious money. Or perhaps it's simply fun, a planned part of a vacation as much as visiting parks or events. Anyone have guidance for me on this?

Tomorrow, we meet up with the clan for breakfast after we check out of the motel. Our flight home is at 2pm and we should be home by mid-evening. And much laundry will await us.

Every now and again, I see a posting on LJ, Facebook or some such thing about how we did stupid things when we were kids. Kid stuff like skate boarding without helmuts, biking along major highways, throwing lawn darts at each other, exploring obviously dangerous areas, operating heavy equpiment beyond our skill to manage. And we did it without parental supervision, without safety gear and without extraneous regulations.

The saying goes something like: "See all the stupid things we did back then? And we all turned out pretty well! Who needs this nanny state/safety crap?!"

But not all of us turned out pretty well. Some of us didn't live long enough to turn out well.

When I see these postings, my mind drifts back to the Brentha Cemetary, a small civic cemetary near where I grew up. Some day I will be buried there. I knew most of the people buried there, and a significant number of them were kids when they died. We went to the same elementary school, we rode the same school buses.

When I see postings scoffing at the "obvious" absurdity of common sense safety precautions, I think of Jeffrey, Donnie, Terry, Gord, Brian, Matthew, Ron and several others. Most died before they were ten years of age, none to age 16. I won't bother you with a list of the ones I lost in high school.

I survived, partly because of dumb luck but largely because of safety-conscious parents. Regulations have become better, equipment is (sometimes) better designed, and fewer risks to children are accepted by society as a whole.

"We turned out pretty well!" is boastful claim made by the living in ignorance of the silent dead.

The past week has been more than a bit of a blur.

A week ago Thursday, I learned my cousin, Josh, passed away in his sleep from a cerebral hemorrhage at age 22. On Saturday, kent4str and I called for the Chesapeake Squares at the annual Baltimore Pride parade, then he drove me directly to National Airport so I could fly to Buffalo, collect my rental car and head to Toronto.

On the whole, the trip was fast and efficient. Unlike the Budget office at SJC, the BUF office actually gave me a compact car as I had booked. It was a 2012 Volkswagen Jetta and it was a delight to drive: comfortable, fuel efficient, great acceleration and roomy.

I spent nearly all of Sunday with my grandmother and my aunt Kathy (Josh's mother) in Drumbo and Princeton, Ontario, about 90 minutes west of Toronto. It's probably the longest time I've spent with my grandmother in years and we had a delightful Sunday drive through the area, visiting cemetaries where our various ancestors are buried.

While that sounds a little morbid, it really wasn't: death is a part of life and it was a pleasant experience to visit the graves of my paternal grandparents, along with various other Jarvises in the Paris Plains Cemetary. As I commented at the time, it was the largest gathering of Jarvises I've attended in years, and nearly the quietest.

We also visited the Wolverton cemetary where grandma's late husband is buried. I asked why he was there in 1981 rather than anywhere else: after all, there are no other Mordens buried in that space. She just stated matter-of-factly that my uncle Dave (her son-in-law) noted at the time there were only four plots left and if she wanted them, she should sign on immediately. It's just a business transaction. In exactly the same neutral tone, she pointed out where she will be buried, along with Josh and Josh's mother, just as plainly as saying the grass is green and the sky is blue. Huh.

For the record, I confirmed on Wednesday my parents are to be buried in the Brentha Cemetary near the family farm in northern Ontario. My will also makes it clear I'm to be buried there. Don't try flinging my ashes into space or anything silly like that: have a party instead.

Sunday evening, we had dinner with Kathy and her fiance, Clayton. Many of Josh's friends dropped by to say hello. Apparently, Josh was the nexus of an extensive social network and his home was the place where many in this small town could hang out when desired. His loss is having more of an impact that I knew previously.

I spent the morning of Monday bumming around Toronto, site-seeing, shopping and visiting my old haunts. I miss that city. I spent the afternoon & evening visiting with my Dad at the home of my sister "3 of 6" while Mom was out with Grandma and Kathy. Again, it's probably the longest stretch I've spent alone with Dad in decades.

After his recent ostomy operation due to Crohn's Disease, he's recuperating nicely. He still doesn't have the energy he used to for endurance, but he's clear, articulate and in good spirits.

Tuesday was largely spent on my own and hanging out with my Toronto hosts John & Chris, indulging in some quiet and contemplative time.

On Wednesday, I packed everything and headed to Mississauga to collect Dad and we both drove out to Drumbo to rendez-vous with Mom and Grandma, had an early dinner and then headed to Woodstock for the first viewing (The second viewing was on Thursday and the formal funeral & internment on Friday but I couldn't stay in Canada for those events).

There was a steady stream of Josh's friends and co-workers from 7-9pm. For the most part, I sat with Dad and we continued various conversations from the prior day, both of us rising when summoned by Mom, Grandma or Kathy as needed for introductions or errands.

I'm happy to report Mom was distinctly non-sociopathic. I'm not sure if Dad's improved health has relieved her stress so she isn't wigging out in ugly, nearly violent anti-social behavior, the likes of which nearly had her removed from Dad's hospital by security only a month ago. It could also be that she's simply on her best behavior because she's in public: she has a talent for camouflaging her periodic bat-shit crazy behavior when required to charm strangers or avoid being called on her excesses by those she can't control (ie. Grandma, Kathy and me). In any case, we were fine the entire time and parted on good terms.

When the event was over, I drove Mom, Grandma and Dad back to Grandma's apartment, said my good-byes and headed for Buffalo. I had originally planned to travel early Thursday morning from Toronto for my 8:45am Buffalo-to-DC flight but decided at nearly the last minute that fighting my way through unpredictable morning traffic around the entire Golden Horseshoe area of southern Ontario then get my way through the border crossing was too much stress for a morning trip. Going to Buffalo Wednesday night and taking a cheap hotel room near the airport would provide more rest time. That was the theory, anyway.

Sure enough, I made good driving time to Buffalo and needed a half-hour to get through the processing queue at the border. While my Econo Lodge gave me an enormous suite for my single night's stay, the AC couldn't keep up with the near-record heat in a room that big so I got only three hours of sleep while baking & sweating in bed.

On the good side in the morning, however, I checked out of the hotel, packed the car, drove to the airport, dropped off the rental, checked in at US Airways, got through security and walked to my gate within 30 minutes. Total win.

The flight was uninteresting except for the misbehaving toddlers and overly-indulgent pseudo-parents in row 12, directly in front of me. Horrid. I'm so glad it was only a 50 minute flight.

Once back in DC, I took the subway home, rested a little, did some work and then headed downtown to call a Mainstream & Plus club night for the DC Lambda Squares.

I regret I couldn't spend an additional night or two in Canada. There are so many friends I would have liked to have seen, but my only free time was during the workday and even then, there were periods when I needed to be alone. I wasn't close to Josh so I'm still more than a bit surprised how painful his loss has been.

Friday was all work, including a site visit to the data center to collect equipment from Shipping and reboot some recalcitrant appliances.

Today was our day of good deeds. kent4str's mother is still in the rehab facility, getting physio for her minor stroke nine weeks ago. She's going to be released back into the wild shortly so the three of us descended on her & Dad's house in Mt Airy, MD, to scrub the place top to bottom and re-arrange furniture in the master bedroom for her easier access. We also fixed a minor problem with the central air conditioning condenser drain hose and generally tackled whatever project Ralph required. We were well fed as a reward. I'm looking forward to Zoe's return home.

I received word early this afternoon that my cousin Josh was found dead in his apartment in Kitchener this morning. At the moment, the cause of death is unknown. He was 22.

To say this is unexpected is an understatement. I saw Josh at our grandmother's 85th birthday bash in April and he was as energetic and healthy as any 22 year old should be. An autopsy is being performed.

Josh was an only child and his mother, Kat, was in Indiana when she heard. One can only presume that she returned to Ontario as quickly as possible but I've had no further word from the family. I'm sure she's devastated.

My thoughts keep returning to my grandmother. She's survived a husband, two daughters and heaven knows how many friends. Now she's lost a grandchild for the first time.

Although there's no word on funeral arrangements, I've booked plane tickets and a rental car for this Saturday evening through next Thursday morning. My precise itinerary will depend on family events and arrangements so I'm hesitant to plan more than that currently.

Early morning flights are a pain in the butt but it's a necessary evil. *sigh*

We're heading to southern Ontario this morning to celebrate my grandmother's 85th birthday in Drumbo, ON. Our little jaunt this morning will take us from home to BWI Airport, then a quick hop to Buffalo, NY, where we'll rent a car to drive across the border into Canada and to Toronto where we're staying with friends.

Planned side trips this weekend will also include a visit to my financial advisor, a meal at Swiss Chalet, a visit to the St Lawrence Market and at least one meal with the clan aside from Grandma's event. We may yet squeeze some other stuff into the schedule but this trip is primarily about family until they drive me freaking nuts and we need to escape.

Pray for all involved.

My extended clan have given me notice that they're hoping for a family reunion ostensibly to celebrate my grandmother's 85th birthday in 2012.

It's not easy to convey the incredible sea change this represents. My family can't plan something as trivial as dinner more than an hour in advance: for them to be looking 18 months ahead is nothing short of extraordinary. I fear my dear grandmother may not survive to her 85th for having died of a heart attack under the strain of thinking more than a week ahead.

The bad part? They've chosen the exact same dates as the Vancouver IAGSDC convention.

*sigh*

I suppose I could try spending a couple of days at one event, then flying to the other. Of course, that involves travel between the two most expensive airports in the entire Dominion of Canada, and it likely would mean a less than ideal visit at both.

This morning, the hubbies went shopping at the Westside Market while I attempted to sleep in a little. I had no success: my crackberry was going nuts with incoming emergency pages from the office. While there was little I could to do help the work situation, I also couldn't easily ignore the crackberry, or simply turn it off in case something I could tackle should arise.

With reluctance, I eventually roused myself from bed to at least tend to some code deployments to our disaster recovery site, catch up on some minor documentation on our wiki and test some network adjustments made by our network engineering team.

When the boys returned home, we scooted out to "Mi Pueblo" for lunch: great food, fast service and very low price! I'd go back again.

By mid-afternoon, I was still feeling like a slug --as were the boys-- so we opted for a brief nap. Yay for mid-afternoon naps!

By late afternoon, we were on our way to the party supplies store to pick up some items, then off to the hall where tomorrow's reception following the wedding will be held. We were originally going to be assisting with decorating; somehow, we were placed largely in charge of it. The same sort of thing happened yesterday at the wedding rehearsal: kent4str and I were going to be there in support of cuyahogarvr (father of the groom) but have since been escalated to being ushers for the wedding and escorts for the bride's mother & aunt for the candle-lighting portion of the wedding. Whee!

Before ultimately getting to the hall decorating though, we returned to the same ice cream shop we visited yesterday. I wanted to have a double-scoop of the wintermint ice cream with hot fudge sauce, but my dear ones staged an intervention and talked me down to a single scoop. Bastards.

- Mine is the large one in front.

The decorating went well so after chatting & coordinating in the parking lot of the hall, the larger portion of the family sped off to the local Red Robin's for a light dinner. I was seated next to step-grandson Kevin again so brace yourself for baby cuteness:


We're now back at Casa Vannello, mellowing for the balance of the evening. We need to be back at the wedding hall for 9am tomorrow to do a final setup prior to the 10am service. Pray for sunshine!

cuyahogarvr playing with his 9 month old grandson: