"B" This Christmas

" C is for Cookie,  that's good enough for me"  - Cookie Monster

According to Cookie Monster, one of my heroes, the letter "C" is easy. If only us humans made Christmas as easy. The letter "B" often infiltrates Christmas - busy, buying, bombarded, bewildered, blitzen (not the reindeer, but the feeling of being rushed). Bending over backwards has become the expectation; basking in glory has become boggled.

So, on this Christmas, breathe.  Rather that bear it, balance it. Has your mind been blown in the bonanza? As Eeyore says, "Oh, bother". If the buzz or beat of Christmas has become bonkers, be brave - break away. Build up family and friendships. Believe in your community. Blog positive. Brew ideas. Bury hatchets. Return hatchets if you are inexperienced with hatchets.

I'll be back blogging in 2019 - to boost, brighten, and bolster.

Merry Christmas.

"B is for Blessed, that's good enough for me"

It's Beginning to Look A lot Like Christmas...For Parents.

The 2nd weekend of December is a wonderful time to fully wrap one's gingerbread head around the following:

Lightyears away from the Sit-Still Dinner

With a daughter turning 4 in January and her sister turning 2 in March, my wife and I are used to tossing and turning at suppertime. And "time" is a real brain and belly buster. There does not really feel like a true beginning or end to dinner. I'm usually trying to accelerate through the feeding, while my wife leap frogs around the table, the floor, or whatever other surface we find ourselves feasting upon. Our girls do not priortize dinner. In fact, I'm not sure they acknowledge it as a legitimate meal. Breakfast, lunch, snack.

On Friday night, we traveled to the Boulevard Grill. It was my wife's work's Christmas party. It was a merry room of family, friends, co-workers, and our children. Toy Story 2 and then Toy Story 3 were the feature films during this culinary conquest. It kept our daughters' attention and gave us precious time to dine. We could have asked the waitress to turn the TV off so we could fully enjoy conversation without any mass media distractions.

We didn't do that because we are not insane.

The opening sequence to Toy Story 3 is one of the greatest intros in the history of cinema.


Home Invasion

When I was a kid, elves stayed at the North Pole. There was an allure. There was a magical disconnect between man and elf. Now - in times like these - I wish I did not have a shelf.

There Will Be Blood

We entered a friend's home for a Christmas Pajama Party on Saturday night. Kids ate sugar for dinner and ran around. Parents told stories, ranging from cute to horror, loosely monitoring the children. As the sugar kicked in and bedtime drew near, the children became savages. Think Lord of the Files with Santa.

Inevitably, a 3-year-old girl got a bloody lip. How she "got" it is not exactly known due to the loose supervision and the fact that savages lack integrity.


There Will Be Cantaloupe

Kids love fruit. At the end of the Pajama Party, only one fruit remained. The Cantaloupe. Cantaloupe at a 4th of July picnic? I'm in. Cantaloupe at Christmas?  I watched the hostess shovel it right into the garbage can. Can you imagine a parent doing that to blueberries?  No, because that would draw outrage from both parents and kids:

"Oh my goodness, she just threw out blueberries?  Should we go see if she is okay?"

Overall, it was a great fruit spread. My soon-to-be 2- year- old ate the last raspberries, strawberries, and blackberries. You know how people hesitate to finish a dish at a party?  She isn't one of those people.

Remember she was one of the savages in the room when blood was shed.

There Will Be USA Today

The Pajama Party played off the idea of breakfast for dinner, which was genius, even if my kids do not understand what "dinner" truly is. Their Webster definition of dinner is:

Dinner (Noun, aka Annoyance): a designated thing from my parents that doesn't make any sense and is a thing I am going to make difficult.

The Pajama meal was a great breakfast or dinner or thing. I joked about the idea of having newspapers available next year to reduce the "loose" supervision to "no" supervision. "Sorry kids, I am reading my favorite section of the USA Today. That page where you read about one thing that has happened in each state. Now, go downstairs and wrestle like there's no tomorrow."


For today - for all parents - be thankful for your children and all the blessings that make Christmas a jolly good time.

Fa La La La La Fever

"Twas the night before December, amoxicllin all through the house
Our children were stirring like two crazy ruffed grouse 
The stockings were hung, there were clothes all over the floor
Me hopes that a cleaning service walks through thy front door
No one was nestled, No one was snug
We all could use a big fat Santa hug 
Visions of sugar plums were not in our heads 
Why are there stickers in all of our beds?
Mom does not have a kerchief, I have a thinking cap
Let us all try to take an all-as-one glorious nap
Our brains are unsettled, there is nonsensical chatter
Mom is making pierogies to put on a platter
The girls run around, frolicking in a flash
The youngest is stricken with some sort of rash
The moon is out, thank God there is not snow
Sunday in the 60s? Golfing I go?
When, what to my wandering eyes should appear
But, a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer
With a little old driver, so lively and quick
I'm hallucinating, we surely are sick!
More rapid than an eagle, I swear that he came
He whistled, and shouted, "Dad, you're insane!"
Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now Prancer! Now Vixen!
We must leave now, I do not have the power for fixin
Good luck, Santa said as he took off from the porch
It feels like Survivor, everyone grab their torch
Goodbye Santa, we will see you on Christmas Day
We will be back to full health, this I do pray
God has been good to us, and for that we are blessed
The life of a parent, grateful and stressed
Goodnight Johnstown, may your December be merry and bright
Always be thankful, for each day brings new light

Turkey Top 10

Thanksgiving is not a day, it's a season. Tis the Top 10 of Turkey Time:

10. Party like a Pilgrim

Our Thanksgiving began on Tuesday when we had turkey dinner at my 3-year-old's school. Geneva House was our Plymouth Rock. The children sang a song and everyone was filled with joy. Then, we filled our tummies. Then, the children ran around the room like turkeys with their heads cut off.

I imagine the first Thanksgiving was much like this scene. Young pilgrims, hopped up on the first feast, started throwing acorns at each other. The parents did little to calm their young pilgrims as they were busy eating pumpkin roll.

At one point, I looked inside my daughter's headgear, that of a Native American, and I read the words, "Love, Brian". She had left it on our Thanksgiving table. Astonished, I approached the educators. Who is this Brian? Allegedly, the 4-year-olds assisted in the fashioning of the head pieces, gifting them to the 3-year-olds. Well, well, well...

"Watch your pilgrim hands, Brian. Watch em." 

9. Thanksgiving Eve

We had a small gathering at our house in preparation for Thursday. Thanksgiving artwork completed by yours truly and my 3-year-old was on display. It was an autumn art gallery for the ages and for all ages.

8. Squirrel Chase

On Thanksgiving morning, our tribe visited my aunt and uncle. At one point, my uncle exited his home with no announcement. Then, we saw him sprinting into the street. His mission - scare the squirrels away from the bird feeder. In the civilized world, you are allowed to protect your bird feed from squirrel scoundrels; however, if you are simply chasing squirrels, that's psychotic. The bird feeder keeps you out of the asylum. "Oh dear, Ed's in our yard chasing squirrels...Oh wait, he has a bird feeder, that makes sense."

7. Shout for Sprouts

I know I'm getting older when I have to put brussel sprouts in my Top 10 list. The usual vegetable suspects were present at Thanksgiving dinner, but a brussel sprout dish stole the holiday. My wife's cousin made a sprout spectacular. I don't usual swear in blogs, but those were damn good sprouts.

6. Deer Chase

On Thanksgiving evening, my wife and I were leaving the house and 5 doe were in our neighbor's yard. I instinctly decided to chase them out and drive them up the hill. My mission was to push them toward Stackhouse Park and make my wife laugh watching such antics. I fired off the porch and the startled deer stormed the street. The last of the Mohicans hit a patch of ice and baseball slid into the curb. In this moment, I froze in horror. Standing like a deer in headlights, I was mortified. This doe, probably a mother, painfully ate curb. My wife immediately announced "broken ribs" as if she practiced veterninary medicine. The deer stumbled to her hooves and embarrsingly darted up the hillside. I had to ponder whether my stunt was worth it or if the deer would die of internal bleeding. Alas, I did my job. Deer got up the hill. My wife got a good laugh - not from my sprint, but from how mortified I stood in the middle of the street.

Moral of the story, I would be a terrible hunter.

5. Chimp Chase

Later than night, my father-in-law and I watched a nature documentary about chimpanzees. At the same time in the same house, my daughters ripped off their shirts and made primal noises. It was a documentary within a documentary.

 4. Oh Christmas Tree

The Friday after Thanksgiving is reserved for putting up the Christmas tree. My 3-year-old loves it. My wife loves that she loves it. I'm fine with leading the exercise. Who really knows what my 1-year-old loves. I think she thinks its fine. The best exchange this year:

Daughter: "Dad, here is the cucumber"

Dad: "That's a pickle"

Daughter: "No, it's a cucumber"

Every year we put a cucumber ornament on the Christmas tree.

3. Oh High School

I attended my wife's 15 year high school reunion on Friday night. I played the role of supportive husband and enemy - this was a Bishop McCort reunion and I had a Westmont Hilltop diploma. I was immediately judged.  "Haha, Westy pride and power", Crushers said in unision. A couple of kids even tried to kick me, but I'm elusive.

None of that really happened. It was a good time. I'm so glad high school is over.

2. Rise and Fall

At 7:15 AM on Saturday, 8 men played basketball. You know you are getting older when you schedule to play basketball at 7:15 AM on a Saturday. Years ago, this would have been a preposterous concept for this group of athletes. But in 2018, it was perfect.  After the game, we all ate brussel sprouts.

When I got home around 9 AM, I slipped on the ice and fell Looney Tunes style on the sidewalk. This completed the soreness process.

1. The Big Finish

After basketball and my elbow drop on the ice, we invited over a bunch of friends. All of them were parents. All of them brought their children. Inside our house, there were 12 children between the ages of 3 months and 5 years old. The best way to describe it is think Squirrel Chase meets Deer Chase meets Chimp Chase and all the parents are drinking coffee.

Thanksgiving is not a day, it's a season.

And, that's not a cucumber, it's a pickle!

Movie Review: The Grinch

Historically, I do not like the idea of Christmas cheer before Thanksgiving, but sometimes you have to bundle up and head to Whoville in November with your 3-year-old. Please enjoy this Dad review from our screening @ Westwood Plaza and Theatre.

Before entering the theatre, I take an obligatory photo of my daughter and The Grinch movie poster. Happy child poses with miserable green creature.

We order our food and our reward was a magical candle. This candle symbolizes that our grub is on the way. This Westwood Plaza tradition dates back to the 17th century.

My 3-year-old creature knocks over the candle. Shards of glass mix with fallen popcorn. I describe the tragedy to a teenage worker. He points me toward the janitorial corner. I emerge with a dust pan and industrial broom. I emerge a hero. The previews have not started.

My cousin and her 2nd grade daughter arrive. We share a row. I've made this point before, but it's worth repeating - when taking kids to a movie theatre, you need 2 seats per person. So, on this evening, we had 8 seats to choose from.

During the previews, the 2nd grader drops her popcorn somewhere between seats 2-4. There is no way I can approach the teenage worker and deliver another mishap story. I refuse to go back into the janitoral corner. My cousin escapes to get more popcorn. The majesty of bottomless popcorn.

The Grinch finally arrives. It feels like we have been in popcorn row for an hour. One of my first questions is how did The Grinch become a dog owner?  They must not do background checks in Whoville. I also imagine that The Grinch is one of those people who says, "Having a dog is like having a kid". That's pure nonsense. Having a kid is like having 101 Dalmatians. 

The Grinch proves to be committed to physical fitness. His electric pink workout clothes spark my daughter's attention and my memory.  I have only bought my daughter one outfit. It was a pink and purple Nike workout suit. I bought it for her months before she was born. It was a 2T. I had no idea what "2T" meant when I bought it. Thank you, Macy's. The "T" in "2T" stands for Terrific.

There is a screaming goat in The Grinch. This alpine animal is not important in the plot, but the Illumination brain trust made the right call. "Kids will love a screaming goat. Find a way to get the screaming goat into the script. Move aside, Benedict Cumberbatch"

My daughter loves music so she was pleasantly surprised by The Grinch as a piano player. I will not call him a pianist. I will not call him a pianist because children will easily misinterpet pianist. Amazingly, my 3-year-old did not have to go potty during the movie. Winner, winner, popcorn dinner!

Have a Happy Thanksgiving, Johnstown. Take care of your kids and dogs and any other creatures in your humble abode.

Forever Running

As long as I can remember, I've been running. Once I learned how to get on my feet, the overall impression was that I liked to keep a steady pace. I gravitated toward sports, jailbreak, and getting enough speed to jump over the bushes. From grade school to high school to college, I kept running. I was no longer jumping over bushes, but there always seemed to be a hurdle I was determined to get over.

Gavin Gladding was a runner too. On September 16th of this year, he laced up for the last time. I learned about his final run on the morning of November 3rd as I laced up for my final road race of 2018. Morley's Run has been my 5-mile autumn challenge for the past seven Novembers.

Standing in the cold before the race, I got an extra chill learning about Gavin; learning that runs across the country, including Morley's, would be dedicated in his memory. He was a victim of a hit-and-run. He left behind two kids and a wife. After a moment of silence, the Morley's herd took off.

Like on most runs I go on, my mind swirled with thoughts. Often, my brain seems to race harder than my feet. Attacking the final mile, I saw a dedication sign for Gavin. It was time to pick up the pace. There at the finish line were my two kids and wife. I could hear them cheering for me before I could see them. They will never know how much I appreciate those cheers.

In the days after the race, I've thought about Gavin a lot. I never met him, but I think we would have enjoyed each other's company. Reading about his life - being a running Dad; having a passion for helping kids; being a champion of the great outdoors - I saw ... I see much of  myself in him. His obituary states "Gavin believed in experiential learning, for his own children, his students, and for himself." That's a defining sentence that this writer absolutely believes.

When I started this blog a little over 2 years ago, I was not sure what it would become. Like runs, each writing is different; each with its own unique adrenaline pump; each and every one, all 88 of them, read by my wife before reaching others. She is my editor and best friend. She loathes running, but loves my writing. I once convinced her to run a 5K with me. We have not ran together since, but I'll never forget her crossing that finish line.

I look forward to the runs ahead and chasing after my daughters with my wife - that's a true marathon. As the miles, blogs, and years add up, I hope to live out Gavin's belief; to learn through experience. Across the country, his life was celebrated this running season. In the races ahead, I'll try to keep his memory on my mind, but who knows where my feet will take my brain.

Experience your community. Be a good neighbor. Hug your wife and kids (even if you are sweaty at the finish line). Remember Gavin.

Halloween Top 10

With 2 kids, a loving wife, and a day off work, I could have created a Halloween Top 50 list; however, my kids would be neglected, my wife would not be feeling the love, and I'd be typing until Thanksgiving. So, here it is...my family will be in their Haloween costume character for the entire blog:

Dad - Shark
Mom - Swan
3-year-old - SuperWoman
1-year-old - Piglet

#10: "Why is everyone calling me THAT?"

After a full day of being called "Super Girl", SuperWoman had enough. Under the light of the moon on the stoop of a stranger, SuperWoman loudly asked this question. Outraged, she took her candy. Shark politely explained to the homeowners that his SuperWoman was not an egomaniac and quite simply dedicated to fighting crime.

#9: Shark Attack

With Swan behind the wheel, Shark saw a friend getting ready for Trick-or-Treat. We stopped the Subaru and Shark got out of the car in excitement. Shark exclaimed the whole family would be stopping by soon. Stepping back into the Outback, Shark awkwardly shut the door on his fin, located on the human skull. Shark did not realize he did this at first. Shark felt resistance putting on his seat belt. Swan laughed. Shark is an idiot.

#8: Piglet's Power Trip

During lunch at the Boulevard Grill, Piglet had a pre-nap mental breakdown. As Swan gave child psychology a whirl, Shark stared at a muted ESPN. The Green Bay Packers traded safety Ha Ha Clinton Dix. "If you don't calm down, you are going to be traded like Ha Ha Clinton Dix", Shark to Piglet (did not say, but should have).

#7 The Nap

It should be #1, but once we got home from lunch, the Halloween snooze was the treat of all treats. Shark, Swan, SuperWoman, and Piglet all got Zs at the same time. When Shark and SuperWoman awoke they did the obvious - drank a Yoo-hoo. Rich in calcium and Vitamin D, Yoo-hoo is a healthy alternative on Halloween.

#6 The Great Pumpkin Paint

Closing in on 70 degrees, our family gathered in the front yard to paint a white pumpkin. Piglet preferred to paint the sidewalk and had to be instructed to not paint the house. SuperWoman required no instruction and used an exorbitant amount of paint. Shark and Swan wandered the grounds looking for things to pick up.

#5 Fruit Island

Shark sends a desperate mid-Trick-or-Treat text to his parents. The message - prepare a fruit platter or we are never going to survive. In a race against time, strawberries, apples, and bananas provided a jolt of juiciness.

#4 Hundred Acre Wood

Upon arriving at a friend's abode, Piglet meets up with a 1-month-old Winnie the Pooh and a canine disguised as a donkey, a donkey named Eeyore. All three - pig, bear, and donkey - look somewhat uncomfortable, yet satisfied. SuperWoman runs through the grass disinterested in childish affairs.

#3 Snack Time

Shark, Swan, and Piglet get to experience Geneva Preschool along with other parents and offspring. Shark volunteers to pass out cupcakes, one of the greatest culinary creations. There is also a veggie tray during the snack time extravaganza. While Shark got to pass out cupcakes and see the joy in the eyes of children, someone else had to ask if anyone wanted cauliflower.

#2 The Spider Walk

After snack time, each preschooler had the opportunity to walk across a wooden beam. To the left and right, cobwebs, spiders, and certain death. The hallway was tight and full of family members. Shark held on to Piglet. Swan held on to memories. SuperWoman placed her feet on the beam. Her cape began to rise and then suddenly...she was gone. She flew out of the preschool to fight crime. We are so proud of her.

#1 Support the Troops

Maybe Swan's best idea ever - a wealth of our Trick-or-Treat candy is going overseas. SuperWoman and Piglet were not consulted on this decision. The Kit-Kats are headed to Kuwait! Years from now, SuperWoman and Piglet can read this blog and question Swan on why she decided to send their candy out of the country. "Girls, did you see that Ha Ha Clinton Dix retired?", Shark.

Alive on Sesame Street

On the last Friday of October, my family of four attended Sesame Street Live! @ 1st Summit Arena @ Cambria County War Memorial. Please enjoy this Dad review.

Spoiler Alert: The following blog contains plot details and storyline analysis. Proceed with caution. 

Part 1

Grover is first on stage. We are in "the pit". I could throw a football and hit Grover in his fuzzy blue head. I would never do such a thing, but this is how close we were to the neighborhood.

Music erupts early. A lot of people run around the stage. Abby Cadabby is a part of the human antics. There is some animated narrator on a big screen. A male resident of Sesame Street does a back-flip. Everything is bonkers. There is going to be a community party and there is a friendly discussion on what the theme should be - super hero or beach.

Big Bird jumps out of a video helicopter. He explains he is more like the penguin and ostrich.

Oscar the Grouch sings a terrific ballad about trash. I do not support his sentiments in regard to waste; however, his stinky song is catchy.

When Elmo comes on stage, kids lose their minds. He is the Elvis of Sesame Street. High-pitched and high-energy, the fuzzy red monster lights a fire under the kiddos.

My oldest daughter has to pee. Classic. My youngest daughter watches her mother and big sister scamper out of the "the pit". My youngest daughter cries as if she will never see them again. Cookie Monster explodes out of a gargantuan chocolate chip cookie. A fire is lit under me. I am pretty sure the hair stood up on my arms and I shouted, "YEAH COOKIE!" Apparently, Cookie Monster is my Elvis. It's 1988 all over again.

Intermission (Anarchy)

The purpose of intermission is to test parental stamina. Can you make it to Part 2 without spending money?  We did not. My wife bought my three-year-old a rich-woman's Sno-Cone, one of the easiest treats to enjoy (sarcasm). It could have been worse. What parent bought the $30.00 bubble machine? I want to scold you and thank you at the same time. Nothing brings strange children together like bubbles.

There is a ramp from the pit to the commoners. Security is light. Children run up and down the ramp about as irresponsibly as Bird Bird jumping out of a helicopter. We talk to a mother who has triplets. God help us all.

Grover announces the show will start back up soon. Parents beg Grover to start now. If I had a football, I may have thrown a tight spiral at his fuzzy blue head.

Part 2

Grover plays "Grover Says" on stage with some excited children and their frightened parents. I do not see how this connects to the neighborhood party plot and I am upset.

When Part 2 starts, it flies off the radar screen. It starts snowing. Giant inflattable balls attack the crowd. Lights are flashing everywhere. Everyone is singing and screaming. On the verge of brain freeze from a Sno-Cone no one wants to eat, I am determined to get my money's worth. Surveilance video would have shown a father with his head down using a plastic spoon as a pick axe.

"Sunny Day" takes me back and out of my Sno-Cone solitary confinement. Sesame Street was an instrumental part of my childhood. This show reminded me of the valuable lessons learned on Sesame Street. In a chaotic hour and a half, we learned about compromise, environmental consciousness, a second language, and the importance of community.

What we did not learn?  Where is Ernie? Where is Bert?  This is not 1988. This is 2018 and Ernie and Bert got squeezed out! If you would have told me 20 years ago that Sesame Street Live! would leave out Ernie and Bert, I would have told you to get a life.

The show ends with Oscar the Grouch yelling "SCRAM!"

Amen, Oscar. Amen. 

Be a good neighbor. Love your kids. Support your community. Don't buy Sno-Cones.

Animals of Autumn

This October has been full of life - wildlife. Here are the season's standouts to date:

Snake

My wife and I recently purchased bicycles. We believed that this investment would yield multiple positive results - physical exercise, strengthen our marriage, and give us the ability to pedal away from our children. Maybe one day we will have apparatuses to connect our kids to our bikes, but for now, we want no such appartuses. We want babysitters.

Alas, our first ride in our revived bicycling lives came on the Path of the Flood Trail. On a sunny and comfortable Sunday morning, we were on wheels and headed for the Staple Bend Tunnel. I had run through this old railroad tunnel before. My wife, bless her heart, never went through the tunnel and she forgot to take her sunglasses off. Trailing her, I thought she was just a bit rusty on a bike. Turns out, she was biking blind. It was a world of difference when she realized her error and gained sight.

We ate lunch at a picnic table at the end of the trail. Bending down to reorganize my sling bag for the venture back, I was surprised by a slithery fellow. At approximately 3 feet in length, this motionless reptile eyed me up. With a stick, I gave him a nudge to promote his passage off the trail. The serpent, believed to be a corn snake, went off into the thicket, safe from bicycle tires.

Phil & Smokey

It sounds like a dive bar band, but it is in fact my daughters two favorite participants in the Fort Ligonier Days Parade. The Punxsutwaney groundhog and the bear who tells us, "Only You Can Prevent Forest Fires" drew high praise. Phil, a celebrated rodent, did not look that enthused. Smokey the Bear was waving his paws in omnivore glory.

Buzzards

Our 2nd bike ride of October was on the Ghosttown Trail. After about a 12-mile trek, we looked up at a beautiful blue sky. The yellow sun shined bright. And over a dozen buzzards circled the trees near the Dilltown parking lot, patiently waiting for someone or something to go all black. I did not fear death because I still had my helmet on. Take that, vultures. Safety first.

Shark

This Saturday was the Red Cross Vampire 5K and 10K in Richland. The plan was to bring the whole family in costume, but Dad was the only soul to brave the rain and the chill. I was a shark. Before the race I conversed with Flouder from Little Mermaid. Nice guy.  At one point while running,  I was side-by-side with a chipmunk (Simon). Two teenage girls beat me wearing bloody T-shirts. I smelled the blood, but could not catch them. I did not stay for the award ceremony. I finished 1st in the aquatic animals division.

The Lion and the Cobra

In Psalm 91 for this Sunday it is written: "You will tread on the lion and the cobra". YIKES. What does this mean? Was that a cobra I saw on the Path of the Flood Trail?  I am still trying to figure out my bicycle and The Bible - a lot of gears; a lot of words. I am grateful for my faith and my family - that's the combo that keeps my gears going.

Goodnight Johnstown.

Racoons - stay out of our garbage. It's not funny.

Farm to Table

 As a youngster, I remember the glory and majesty of the field trip. On Friday, I was part of a barnyard brigade led by the teachers @ Geneva Preschool. Amongst 3 and 4 year-olds, I found glory once more in the great outdoors. Here is a recap of a morning @ the Schantz Haus Farm in Davidsville.

Shout with the Sheep

The experience began with an adrenaline pump. Small children eyed up sheep. The sheep, eyes incredibly far apart, approached the children. Between the parties, a fence. Let the loud begin. Outnumbered but not to be intimidated, sheep shouts seized the autumn air. On a brisk October morning, a half dozen or so sheep defeated a dozen + kids in a weird noises showdown.

Hay Ride

For logistical and psychological purposes, the 3 and 4 year-olds were separated after the sheep start. The 3-year-olds and their families got the first shot at the hay ride. I believe this was a strategic move. If the tractor would break down, 4-year-olds would deal better with the disappointment of not getting to do a hay ride. They are more mature. Plus, if the tractor breaks down with a bunch of 3-years-old onboard, they are less inclined to identify tractor terror.

Making a climb up a grassy knoll, our 76-year-old tractor felt much like the Little Engine That Could. Surrounded by corn fields, it felt like we were going to end up in one. Alas, our resident farmer and tractor puller got us to the summit. After surviving the trek, we laid eyes on the graveyard where the founder of Johnstown, Joseph Johns, is laid to rest. It was a beautiful view. We got a little history lesson and got out of there before a 3-year-old asked if bodies are buried under those statutes.

Red Angus

For the cow encounter, I focused on one cow that was different than all the rest. I was working on colors with my 1-year-old. Calling this unique mooing beast "brown", I was embarassed. It was actually a "red" angus. Leave the teaching for the educators and the farmers, Dad. That's what my youngest daughter said to me...with her nonverbals.

The Big Machine

If desired, each kid got to climb up a monstrous farm machine and pretend to drive. I have no idea what this big-wheeled thing does. During the explanation, my youngest daughter was fascinated by a rock and I pretended to be; just two cave dwellers roaming the farm. Both my kids got behind the wheel. This was the scariest part of the field trip.

The Big Pee

For the grand finale, we got to go into the sheep enclosure. Think Running of the Bulls except instead of Spain, it's Pennsylvania and there is a wind chill factor. Then, my 3-year-old declares she has to pee. As I wrote last week, there is no thrill in easy access to a bathroom. Escaping a sheep stampede and following a farmer to the potty...now that's glory.

Lunch

What better place to eat after all that farm fun than Crow's Nest?  Keeping the animal theme going, we had great grub. We got a table for 6 for our family of 4. We need extra chairs to climb and excess table to color, spill, push silverware, and pass snacks. Thankfully, our kids left to try to play billards and lottery machines.

A special Thank You to those who teach and those who farm. Geneva Preschool has been a blessing. The Schantz Haus Farm was one happy hay ride of a day. I'm glad I went and we didn't tip over.

Can't wait for my next field trip!

Bedlam to Bedford and Back

On the first Saturday of October, our family went on a road trip. Inspired by Clark Griswald and at the mercy of a bizzare Mother Nature, we crossed county lines in an outrageous Subaru Outback.

Step #1:Install Bike Rack

There was no cycling on this trip. My wife and I just believed we needed to seize the moment. It was sunny; however, installation and parenting do not go together. Then, the clouds decided to unleash rain. So, now we have combined slippery conditions with amateur installation with haphazard supervision. Our children ended up running through the backyard half-naked yet fully satisfied. 

Step #2: Be at Peace with the Pumpkin

Call it a mystery, a tragedy, or an act of vandalism, but there is no denying the following: A creature of the night ate through my wife's jack-o-lantern and it brought her to tears. It bewildered my 3-year-old. My 1-year-old did not care because a slug found refuge in the mangled pumpkin. Security footage might have captured a Halloween-hating raccoon devouring my wife's work of art. But, we do not have security cameras. We don't even have cable. And now, we don't even have a pumpkin. We have an orange, slug house. 

Step #3: Get in the Car

It's a simple, four-word command, but it's sometimes the equivalent of "Walk on the Moon". My wife came out of the house carrying so many bags, you would have thought she was a medic in a war zone. 

Step #4: Find a Parking Spot

Bedford's Fall Foliage Festival attracts a crowd. And on this Saturday, it felt more like summer than autumn. Once we found a place to park, we applied sunscreen. Nothing like a nice October lather. With our kids in hiking packs, my wife and I foot solidered onto the concrete jungle. 

Step #5: Find a Treat

How do you beat the heat? Carmel apple slices. My eldest daughter disagreed with the decision to get slices. This was bush league in her preschool mind. My youngest was less perturbed, but passed. Thus, my wife and I ate carmel apple slices. They were delicious and we were sweaty. 

Step #6: Find a Bathroom 

When you go out into public with small children it always comes down to "finding" things. There is no thrill in having to go to the bathroom when a bathroom is right there. A parent needs that threat level thought that my child might pee their pants and those pants might be on my back. And it's 80 degrees in October and 110 degrees in a porta potty. 

And when you make it to Hebrews Coffee Company and everyone is okay, you celebrate a successful pee. I'll take an Iced Pumpkin Pecan Latte and a Wildberry Smoothie. We just climbed Everest. 

Step #7: Load the Car

Unlike loading a gun, this is much more difficult. Actually, I've never loaded a gun, but it's got to be easier than loading the car. If my wife makes another Jack-O-Lantern and it's eaten by an animal, I'm going to learn how to load a firearm. 

Step #8: Feed the Goats

I hoped that both children would fall asleep on the short drive to Jean Bonnet Tavern. The plan was to eat a late lunch while they slumbered in a booth. Well, only one of them fell asleep (youngest) and the tavern was packed. So, we sacrficed our own hunger and fed seed to the establishment's trio of resident goats. My 3-year-old greatly enjoyed having these wide-eyed beasts eat out of the palm of her hand. 

Step #9: Reload the Car

Clean your goat hands and get in. We are getting on Route 30 and driving off into the sun /rain /sun/ rain. What is going on with Mother Nature?

Step #10: Coal Mining

We wound up at Coal Miner's Cafe in Jennerstown. The outdoor seating was perfect for our wrecking crew. As the apocalypse rolled in from the west, our children got to run wild on the expansive patio. They even found a Daddy Long-Legs camoflauged on the brick wall. We counted his legs and I served as arachnid body guard. While this spider was most likely psychologically damaged, he kept all eight of his long legs and for that, he should be thankful. 

Step #11: Listen to Your Sister

On the ride home I reminded my wife of the threat my oldest daughter gave my youngest on the way to Bedford. In a no-nonsense declaration, "Stop crying or you are going to sleep in my armpit."

Step #12: Rain

As we pulled up to our humble abode, it started raining again. My wife was crying in laughter over the memory of the armpit warning. The half-eaten pumpkin was still in the front yard. It was a full day.

Good night, Johnstown. Take care of your families. Take care of your pumpkins.

Weekend of Dad

On the final Friday of September, my wife drove to Virginia for a family wedding. She returned on Sunday afternoon. I was master and commander of our home. Separated by 26 months, my daughters were my primary responsibility. The breakdown:

Dance Dad

Right out of the gates - a true test. While my parents watched my youngest, I took my 3-year-old to ballet and tap class at Concepts Dance Studio on Friday night. This was my first time in a dance studio; not as a father, but as a human. My daughter was unaware of how unqualified I was. Surrounded by Dance Moms and behind the glass window, I awkwardly stood, pretending I was at a hockey game.

Post-dance I made sure to congratulate my daughter. I focused on how dedicated she was in keeping a straight line during a ballet sequence. This was because I was geninuely impressed and it was the only honest commentary I could make. A special "Thank You" to the Concepts instructors.

LET'S GO PENS!

Daddy Dia

To conclude the evening, my girls and I watched Momma Mia on Netflix. This is not because we were looking for symmetry after dance class. This is because my 1-year-old yearns for Momma Mia on a daily basis. I believe she has dance and sung with Meryl Streep every day since mid-August.

Run Dad

On Saturday morning, I ran away. It was planned. My parents watched my Thelma and Louise while I participated in the 10th running of the Conemaugh Que Classic, a glorious autumn 5K. Six autumns prior,  I laced up for my first 5K at the Quemahoming Dam. I had no kids. I was 4 months into marriage. In 2018, it felt weird to be at the Que Classic with no wife, no kids, and to have a post-race cinnamon roll I did not have to share.

I ate the whole thing.

Party Dad

Hours later, I was at a 1-year-old's birthday party. It was outside and featured a gated balloon community (a designated driveway area for balloons and children, featuring a protective pad to roll upon), a bubble machine, an ice cream sundae bar, crafts galore, cheese curls, and of course, fire. Parents talked to parents about how easy life was. When we got home, my 3-year-old fell asleep at 6:50 PM and slept until 6:00 AM on Sunday. I can't wait for this kid's 2nd birthday.

Leap of Faith Dad

Our family regularly attends a fellowship known as Cafe Sunday @ Mill House Cafe in Westmont. It gives our children creative license when it comes to Bible learning. I am all about exposing my daughters to a spiritual smorgasbord and so far, so good. Mill House Sundays has evolved into something I absolutely look forward to and my kids get a kick out of the experience. "Meditations of my heart" was the big takeway on the final Sunday of September.

I love my girls and was ready for my wife to come home.

Friendship Dad

But, there was still one more adventure. I picked up my mother and it was all aboard to Friendship Park in Ligonier. As part of our American Ninja Warrior circuit, Friendship Park offers a wide-range of challenges including a rock wall, shaky, ascending bridge, and a gigantic mushroom balance test. I pretend to be a highly paid announcer to the Ninja Sisters.

After the exercise, we refueled at Carol and Dave's Roadhouse. We toasted to our achievements on the outdoor deck. A pesky bumble bee yearned for our lemonade like it was Momma Mia. My family survived and some how, so did the bee.

Mom!

When we got home, my daughters and I welcomed our leader back. Mom was proud of our adventures and glad there were no catastrophes. From dancing to running to partying to faith leaping to Ninja warrioring, we did it.

As Abba says, "having the time of your life!"

Lawn Mower Dad

I cut the grass to conclude the weekend. Sorry, Meryl. This isn't a Greek island. This is real life.

On the Map

During the first two weekends of September, there was a swoop of events in Johnstown. As summer turns to fall, traditions, old and new, serve as community celebrations. Our family of four traveled the land to be a part of the party.

It all started with the 30th edition of Ethnic Fest, Cambria City's 3-day doozy. 2018 was a spicy year for Ethnic Fest. High humidity made pierogies extra sweaty. While the sun beamed, our daughters ran wild in their great grandmother's backyard. She lives right in the heart of Ethnic Fest and she set up shop well before the festival debuted. Each September her home becomes a stomping ground for trips down memory lane and lamb sandwiches. Especially this year, her porch allowed festival wanderers to take a seat and beat the heat.

By Day 3 of Ethnic Fest, we had devoured a gauntlet of goodies. The ethnicities represented in Cambria City do little to promote the vegetable. The closest thing to a salad at Ethnic Fest is an onion you get with a lamb sandwich from Ace's. That onion might not satisfy your food pyramid portion, but it will stick with you for the rest of the weekend. With onion in my soul, I led our brigade to the Log House Arts Festival.

Arts Fest celebrated its 48th year this time around. Held on Menoher Boulevard in Westmont, Arts Fest became our launching pad to Christmas shopping. Nothing says "fa-la-la-la" like slithering through vendor tents with combative children in the summer. We found refuge in the Community Arts Center, an air-conditioned oasis. Inside, my daughters abandoned me in the face paint line, proceeding to paint rocks. Simply because I waited so patiently, I tinkered with getting my face painted. Also, I was leary of being anywhere close to my 3-year-old while she had a rock. We left peacefully. I without face paint, the rock not thrown.

The following Saturday, I ran in the 3rd running of the Jim Mayer Trail Family Fun Run. Unrelenting rain made for a bone-soaked 5K. I ran in a dedicated herd on this local trail recently designated a National Recreational Trail. Hugging the Stonycreek River, the trail is a flat and friendly trek for walkers, runners, and bikers. I took off before the awards ceremony A) because I was not going to be awarded and B) the potential of being stricken with hypothermia. I survived and a greater challenge lied ahead - watching my kids.

While I transitioned back to Dad, Mom arrived at the 6th annual Sandyvale Wine Festival. Marriage involves strategy. Dad got to run free in the morning. Mom got to drink wine in the afternoon. Both man and woman are joyous and agree to reunite in the evening. Just like every Sandyvale session, my wife gave two thumbs up to the event.

4 events. 2 September weekends. 1 hometown.

Here comes autumn. Enjoy the rest of your summer.

Weekend Play-By-Play

In the spirit of football season, this is a play-by-play for the last weekend of August 2018. Like football, parenting can be intense with the potential for blindside hits, illegal formations, and heroic combinations.

Saturday

4:00 A.M. - My youngest running back (age 17 months) decides to stand in her crib and yell to her Mom. Not a scream or panic attack, just a loud request. Little does she know, her Mom is sleeping in her sister's room at the time.

4:15 A.M. - She finally switches to "Dad". Her request sounds more aggressive, but judging tact and tone is difficult at this hour.

4:20 A.M. - I take my youngest scrapper to the recliner. She finds comfort. For the next 2.5 hours she sleeps. I twitch and live in a state of fear - not wanting her to wake up, not wanting to fully fall asleep. It is "rest".

7:00 A.M. -  Our family of four begins to get ready for a "big day", the two-word description for every 24 hours on Earth.

8:55 A.M. - Depart for Stackhouse Park for the Run Park 5K followed by the Park Picnic and Jamboree. I  lovingly tell my wife en route, "If you don't see me at the finish line, it's okay, I just needed some more time alone."

9:30 A.M. - Race begins. Forest freedom.

9:59 A.M. - Cross the finish line as my wife, kids, and my parents cheer me on. Grateful for my family and the park I absolutely love.

10:00 A.M. - 11:30 A.M. -  Participate in a gauntlet of Jamboree activities: make sunglasses, pet dogs, eat hot dogs, run through hula hoops, eat corn on the cob, listen to music, nervously watch children cross a stream bridge, eat more corn on the cob.

1:00 P.M. - Mom gets a "parental hiatus" to restore order in the home and in her brain. I quarterback a trip to a 2-year-old birthday party. My mother sits shotgun. Both girls strapped in and making noise.

1:15 P.M. -3:30 P.M. - Attend an epic birthday party that features homemade pizza, an ice cream truck, and music blasting out of the garage. It was an awesome party. One I would never, never, never want to organize and orchestrate. Parents just wandered the grounds, all thinking the same thing - "Great party...this clean up is going to be awful."

3:45 P.M. - My oldest daughter (3 years, 7 months) is calling me "Mom" and in a vulnerable haze. Her body wishes to escape reality, while her mind refuses to embrace naptime.

4:00 P.M. - Subaru-induced sleep.

7:00 P.M. - Our family hosts a fire in our backyard. Multiple children and parents attend. Fire provides warmth and danger. Mothers and fathers protect their young while enjoying open flame.

10:00 P.M. - Fire out. No one fell in. Live to see another day. My oldest wants to sleep outside. We head in .

Sunday

3:00 A.M. - My oldest wakes me up in "our fort". She declares "I am not sleepy". We transition from fort to bed.

7:30 A.M. - Mom and our youngest burst into the room. "Wakey, wakey, we don't have time for eggs and bacy".

9:00 A.M. - Café Sunday @ Mill House Café in Westmont. My kids have grown to love this fellowship. They learn about faith, music and community in one super swoop. At one point, my oldest disagrees with the lyric "Oh my God". She corrects everyone with "Oh my Gosh". Get it right or pay the price.

11:00 A.M. - Spirituality Round 2 @ Our Mother of Sorrows mass. In the 4th quarter, aka the halfway point of mass, things get a little violent (spilled goldfish, screaming, pew dash, team meeting, intercept kids). I take the youngest on to the streets for 1-on-1 counseling. Mom heads back into the Catholic huddle with our veteran.

11:45 A.M. - I do my job. I go to communion with a cute, sleeping daughter. Everyone looks at me and thinks, "what a composed father". Minutes before, we were sweating on the sidewalk and talking to ourselves.

12:15 P.M. - Parish picnic outside the church that incorporates water. Fire on Saturday. Water on Sunday. Parents watch their children dodge aquatic dangers while discussing the rigors of parenting. At one point, my youngest daughter sits alone on the pavement, pushing stones and dirt around with pure joy.

2:30 P.M. - My wife takes our oldest to a 1-year-old's birthday party. My youngest and I are designated to watch golf on television. This was her idea.

3:00 P.M. - My wife is in the thick of a birthday party bonanza @ Heritage Discovery Center. She reports it was awesome. She never, never, never wants to organize or orchestrate such a scene. I report watching golf was awesome. I never, never, never want to attend a PGA event, but I recognize it is my Dad duty to live out my golf dreams on my parents' couch.

 4:30 P.M.- My youngest and I depart Westmont and hike through Stackhouse back to Brownstown. I push our adventure stroller while she goes along for the ride. She protects her baby doll from critters.

6:30 P.M. - Porch dinner and discover that baby robins have hatched in our front yard tree. The crowd goes wild. Mother robin looks concerned. Her nest is on lunatic property.

8:00 P.M. - My wife and I decide to take the kids to Shaffer's Frosty Freeze. Hard day, soft serve.

9:15 P.M. - Oldest daughter is mesmerized by an "orangish moon". We pull the Subaru up to the Inclined Plane lookout to get a better glimpse. A small army of high school kids are talking about their semester schedules. My daughter will begin school in September. She's ready, no doubt. She currently thinks the moon comes out of the sun.

Two days.

Two kids.

Two parents.

One fun place to build a family.

Goodnight Johnstown, big day ahead.

Dance, Walk, Run

DWR cardio is critical to my Dad life. My girls and I are always on the prowl for Dancing, Walking, or Running. Without movement, we can become cranky, hysterical, and even destructive. DWR can be scheduled or spur of the moment. Here is the latest and greatest around Johnstown.

In preparation for the Walk to End Alzheimer's, our family attended a fundraiser at B&L Wine Cellars in Cambria City. Shortly after entering the event, my oldest daughter wanted to exit. She was well aware that the Stonycreek River was in walking distance. A goose sighting was essential before mingling with the people. We said "Hi" to one lone, silly goose and shuffled back to the action.

Lux and Company provided musical entertainment, including a cover of the Police's Message in a Bottle. The repetition of "sending out an SOS" is something every parent can identify with. SOS translation - "urgent cry for help"; however, on this night, there was a lot of dancing and no distress. Join us on Saturday, September 22nd for the Walk to End Alzheimer's @ Windber Recreation Park. Registration starts at 8 A.M. Opening ceremony is at 9. Walk is at 9:30. Dancing is at your discretion. 

To provide an extra jolt, running does the trick. In her illustrious stroller career, my 3-year-old has competed in eight races as an enthusiastic passenger. During her most recent run, the Round the Mound 5K, she provided lyrical inspiration around Westmont. After singing to the finish line, she enjoyed a post-race hot dog with her fellow competitors. I am the proud father of this blonde blast.

Watching baseball and DWR do not gel together, but we made it work for the opening night of the AAABA tournament. While Mom and our youngest held down the fort, the blonde blast and I headed for the Point Stadium. The coming and going was the biggest thrill via the Inclined Plane. There was no way we would have lasted for an entire game of baseball, but we could have rode the Inclined Plane until sunrise. When the Inclined car is in motion, kids are doing all sorts of DWR.

Upon leaving the game, my daughter got another glimpse of the mighty Stonycreek. She asked me if there were "octopusses in there". She showed no emotional reaction to my "No". She zoomed up the ramp toward the Inclined Plane, exclaiming, "It's a beautiful night in a beautiful city!"

She keeps me dancing, walking, and running. Her sister is starting to catch up. My wife and I sometimes are on the brink of losing our minds.

But, it's a beautiful ride.

One dance, walk, or run at a time.

Feast on Summer

On Wednesday, it is August. The July-fly-by is almost complete. Age does not seem to be a factor in how short summer feels; however, the older I get, the longer winter becomes. After watching Frozen 700 times, I've come to the same conclusion after each screening.

Do you want to build a snowman?

No.

Alas, tis the season to soak it in. Last Saturday, I was a combatant in the 25th edition of Barnball, a 2-on-2 basketball tournament on Coon Ridge Road; simple by description, complex for the psyche. I first stepped foot in the barn when I was in high school. This summer, I was a 34-year-old veteran. The kids in high school are now closer in age to my kids than to me. When my partner and I were eliminated deep into the 2018 Barnball, I awoke the next morning and did what a small child would do.

I took a post-barn bubble bath. "No bubbles, no glory." - Mr. Bubbles 

While basketball brings it all together, this July phenomenon has endured through families; through community; through connection. The blood and bruising is a testament to Barnball's impossible to fully capture camaraderie; a quarter-century of fellowship on the hard, hard wood. Fathers and sons, brothers, and some incredible female athletes have laid it all out in the barn. Maybe, one day, my daughters will be playing hay bale hoops. For now, stick to Frozen and I'll ice my knees.

This Sunday, the Family Fun Barbecue at Our Mother of Sorrows was a much less rigorous form of fellowship. Spearheaded by my ambitious wife, the sun shined on dozens of families. In my 3+ years of parenting, I've used the wolf pack comparison the most. Once you start traveling as a parent, you are at your best in a pack. You get to talk about interrupted sleep while reasoning with your wolf pups on how attacking someone with a stick is not the same as "playing with sticks". You gain strength by learning about the weakness of other wolves - those parents in the fight of their lives. I told as many people as I could that my 1-year-old peed all over me during the New Testament. I went to the car, changed my shirt, and was back for the homily (wolf howl).

At OMOS, in the barn, and across Johnstown, I have met a lot of good people. My wife and I have made it a point to have our kids say 4 amazing words to anyone we meet - "Have a good day!" I believe the more that we say it - as a family, as a community - the more good days there will be. In our culture, we too often hear the word "news" and think "bad".

Make good news. Turn a barn into a family. Have your family feel like part of the community.

In the words of my daughters, "Have a good night!"

And for those parents staring at the moon, "HOWLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!"

Joys of July

Once July arrives, it always feels as if summer accelerates. And in that acceleration, it is always nice to take time for some appreciation. This is the best that July has had to offer thus far.

Independence Day is a yearly reminder that we have it good. In our parental escapades, my wife and I try to channel our frustrations by reciting "first world problems" - a realization that the crosses we bear are quite bearable. On the 4th of July, I was subjected to Brownstown's firework bonanza as my daughters circled us like vultures - adorable, adorable vultures. My 3-year-old rejoiced in her idea for a family hug. As the sky lit up with explosions of all kinds and colors, our family of 4 hugged hard. It was a grateful and goofy moment.

On the very next day, that same family of 4 had private occupancy in Idlewild's toddler pool. This was because it was raining with ferocity and we were the only swimmers of silliness. We rampaged through the rain until the Soak Zone closed for the incoming soaking. By the time we got to the carousel, the heavens burst and thunder roared. A torrential downpour would not steal my oldest daughter's merriment. Completely at peace, she praised her horse. Then, it was a mad dash from the merry-go-round to the Subaru. It was one satisfying storm.

That weekend, my brother and his wife announced that a baby girl is on the way. My immediate and genuine reaction was to announce that they will be the recipients of an entire closet of clothes. Between brothers, the official production count is Women 3, Men 0. Bring on the Barbies.

This past Friday, it was a Dad-daughter day at Idlewild. Dividing the family and conquering is sometimes the smartest of strategies. I took my 36.5 inch blonde to do it all. We adventured through Storybook Forest. We climbed the cargo net. We joined the sea of humanity in the Soak Zone. And in our greatest act, we rafted Pipeline Plunge for the first time. In a twisty tunnel of darkness, I shouted "It's okay!" Unable to identify how my co-captain was doing, we sprang and splashed back into the sunshine. Upon making eye contact as we came to shore, she calmly told me she did not want to do it again.

After leaving the amusement park, we had a delicious dinner date at Carol and Dave's Roadhouse. My goal was to refuel and run her hard at Friendship Park in Ligonier after digestion. I did just that. After a solid hour of an American Ninja Warrior circuit, swinging, and shenanigans, it was time to head home. Believing she would fall asleep in no time, I was ready to embrace silence. About when I thought silence arrived, my Ninja Warrior loudly asked, "Dad, when do we trick-or-treat again?"

Alas, today - Sunday - the day of rest. Two Scripture readings seized the day. The first, Psalm 85, centered on the harvest. The second, the Gospel of Mark, focused on a journey and how a walking stick is all a disciple needs. In the late afternoon, I led a team of adventurers into Stackhouse Park, the latest installment of Faith and The Forest. I had my walking stick in hand and my 3-year-old in my hiking pack. A friend and his son joined us. An ambitious mom and her four kids rounded out our brigade. We played in the stream, searched for wildlife, and built relationships. As we climbed out of the park, rain fell upon our town once more.

In the upcoming weeks, soak up what remains of this summer. Enjoy and find joy in your community. When the harvest comes, don't look back and wish you did more. Appreciate what you have and don't accelerate too much. You never know how many more summers you will have.

To every sunrise and sunset,

Rest easy, Johnstown.

Trail Fever

June jubilation exists on our region's trails. Read below about what has happened this Spring and what is in store in the Summer of 2018. Share your positive experiences and support the community by enjoying the local scenery.

The Laurel Highlands Ultra, a 70.5 mile race, blazed through the forest this June. The Laurel Highlands Trail, running from Johnstown to Ohiopyle, is a challenging landscape to hike, no matter the distance. To run the entire thing - astonishing and a bit mad. According to the results link, 85 brave souls finished this wilderness test with finishers from across Pennsylvania and all over the land, including Vermont, Florida, North Carolina, and Canada. Congratulations to all those who finished this incredible adventure run.

One week later, another batch of brave men and women were on the Ghost Town Trail for a 50K, 25K, or 12K endurance Saturday. The event, Ghost Town Trail Challenge, is part of the 2018 Cambria County Trail Series. According to the results page, 191 men and women completed their challenge. The Ghost Town Trail is a regional gem for hikers, bikers, and runners. Upcoming events on the trail include the 4th Annual Chernisky Classic on Saturday, July 7th featuring a 10K, 5K, and Firecracker Run for the young bucks. Later in the summer, on Saturday, August 11th, the Run for the Trail 7K will takeoff from the Dilltown trailhead.

On the same day as the Ghost Town Trail Challenge, 59 humans completed the Levity Summer Festival 5K on the Hoodlebug Trail in neighboring Indiana County. This out-and-back course included a run through a tunnel and across a bridge. I was with this jolly gang as 3.1 miles is more in my wheelhouse. 70.5 miles or a 50K would be my nuthouse. 25K or 12K would be doable, but I would live in a house of pain well into the following week. Alas, I zipped along the Hoodlebug. My wife and her cousin pushed my daughters via strollers in the 2-mile family fun walk. They both fell asleep proving that exercising is relaxing and a good way to get some color. My daughters fell asleep - not my wife and her cousin.

The trails into Stackhouse Park are ready for summer fun. Take any trail to the main pavilion for tonight's First Day of Summer party. Games, music, and children will be running free at 7 PM. Then, this Saturday, join an adventure crew for Faith and the Forest. We will be leaving the Saint Michael's church parking lot at 10:30 A.M. to explore and more. It will be a looped hike for kids and adults. And finally, Run the Park, a 10-mile, 10K, and 5K is coming to Stackhouse on Saturday, August 25th.

My daughters and I recently visited the Jim Mayer Trail in Riverside, not to hike, but to bird watch (chase). Near the playground before the trailhead, a gaggle of geese and dozens of quackers were a-quacking. My 3-year-old and 15-month zoologist were mad over mallards. It was National Geographic meets Family Circus. The Family Fun Run on the Jim Mayer Trail is scheduled for Saturday, September 9th. I did it last year. It's a great 5K and the last leg in the Cambria County Trail Series.

If you voyage over Ligonier Mountain, check out the Ligonier Valley Trail that hugs Route 711. It is a smooth and flat trail, covering roughly 3 miles if you do an out-and-back. On a LVT run this morning, I competed against rabbits darting in and out of the brush. Mountain bikers need not travel over the mountain to find adventure as the Inclined Plane Trails in Westmont is now open for biking business. Ride at your own risk. Check out videos on the Facebook page - Friends of the Inclined Plane Trails.

Find a friend. Find a trail. Share the love. Share the trail.

Faith and The Forest

This weekend I adventured into Stackhouse Park, something I have been doing since I was a kid. On Saturday and Sunday, I was proud of two adventure teams, family and friends willing to explore; to discover, wander, and appreciate. Please respond to this blog if you want to join in Faith and The Forest adventures into Stackhouse this spring and summer. My hope is to teach and show my kids how to love nature and experience this community's great outdoors; how to experience nature and count your blessings along the way. And for the adults, rediscovering the kid at heart might just happen in the wilderness. Here is the Top 10 to the 1st weekend of Faith and The Forest:

10. Big, Fat Worm

My 3-year-old volunteered to hold this chubby invertebrate once I scooped him up. They had a brief, friendly relationship before she launched him back into his habitat.

9. Mark the Trail

That same daughter was fascinated by how trails are denoted by colors on trees. Saturday was blue. Sunday was red. Studying and staring at bark, she excitedly announced when her eyes locked on a mark.

8. Slithery Snake

My wife was the one who announced when a snake made his way across the trail. Everyone stood their ground as this footless creature disappeared into the brush.

7. Chuckling Crow

On our Sunday ascent out of the park, a crow flew right over top of us. This chattering bird landed on a tree branch and let out one mighty howl. My daughter immediately asked, "What is he laughing at?"

6. Slippery Salamanders

The stream was full of salamanders on Saturday. Everyone got in on the salamander chase. When my daughter found her own salamander under a rock, she shouted with spastic pride. The amphibian slipped along the rocky shore, eluding the passionate pursuit of a crazed child.

5. Detective Doe

There were no salamander sightings on Sunday, but deer were watching us through a maze of trees. At one point, two doe locked eyes with a daughter and her Dad. Silence was broken when the daughter screamed,  "What are you doing, deer?" They maintained their position and remained quiet. In a battle of who blinks first, the whitetails won. 

4. Beautiful Butterfly

Four of us - my parents, myself, and eldest daughter - got a glimpse of a purple butterfly on Saturday. When resting on leaves, it had no distinct color, a gray and gloomy look, but in flight, we were all struck by the color. My daughter contested the butterfly was blue, not purple. She immediately chastised me for incorrectly labeling this beautiful animal of the sky. It was a blue butterfly. Get it right or pay the price. 

3. Water Woman & LadyBug Lady

My youngest daughter desperately wanted to swim in the stream. With her mother holding on, this 1-year-old aquatic fanatic thrashed in the cool and flowing water, dipping her legs in pure happiness. Meanwhile. her sister was one with the water and the bug kingdom. She found a lady bug and they were best friends for two solid minutes. The lady bug traveled up and down her arm and all was right with the world. 

2. The One-Clawed Crayfish

A "sand castle" was a must-do for the Lady Bug Whisperer. In a sandy and sloppy mess, Dad and daughter dug and dug and found a crustacean with only one pincher. Our digging and discovery created a private pool for our one-clawed comrade. Sand castle architecture was interrupted by this bandit on the bank. 

1. The Scarlet Tanager

The most unexpected sighting was actually the first. On the steep descent into Stackhouse following the Brownstown Trail, my Dad called for our caravan to be still. There, in a tree overlooking the stream, sat a remarkable red and black bird. My Dad, who has taught me a lot about nature and enjoying the outdoors, knew this songbird. It was an awesome moment. My parents, my wife, my brother, and my kids froze to appreciate the Scarlet Tanager - amazing colors and amazingly quieted my children. 

"Nature has an unparalleled capacity to stir our emotions, fostering raw and powerful feelings of wonder, awe, mystery, joy - and yes fear." - excerpt from How to Raise A Wild Child  (currently reading, currently raising).

Summer is almost here Johnstown.  Who wants to adventure into the forest?

Amazing May

Amazing Grace

On a Thursday evening in May, my wife and I were at Our Mother of Sorrows church and surrounded by community members. The connection - Alpha, a Christian-based course offered around the world and locally initiated years ago at this Johnstown parish. This weekday celebration brought people together who shared a bond and a belief. "How sweet the sound" was heard and felt. Initiated by a dedicated few in our region, the Alpha course has helped many, including myself, shape and shift their spirituality.

Amazing Face

While my wife and I were singing Amazing Grace, my 3-year-old was pretending to be a turtle. Her younger sister, age 14 months, was being the shell. They were not at church. They were at the babysitter's humble abode. So deep into character, my eldest and wisest daughter was sliding her skull across the carpet, burning the first layer of skin off her nose. Her fearless tortoise role was Academy Award worthy and appreciated by her family, friends, and all those who support her imagination. At the time of this blog, she is still healing and remains willing to star as a jungle or barnyard animal.

Amazing Race

The 2018 edition of the Path of Flood Historic Races was a sight to behold. Almost a thousand competitors participated in one of the three distances - 5K, 12K, and half marathon. I have participated in the 5K each year and decided to challenge myself this spring. The 12K was a unique and fun route that included a scamper through the Staple Bend Tunnel. After emerging from the wilderness, the final stretch was in sunny Conemaugh to Peoples Natural Gas Park. As my feet pounded the pavement and the sun scorched my skull, I called upon some inner inspiration. I could still hear Amazing Grace. I sprinted to the finish line. Thanks to all the race organizers, volunteers, and competitors who make the Path runs a huge success.

Amazing Space

To end the month, my wife and I celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary without the presence of our children. We did not recklessly abandon them. Their loving grandparents provided love, nourishment, and housing. Our coastal getaway was a blessing. It was also incredibly bizarre not having our daughters around. Having a window of opportunity free from parenting provided an unparalleled amazement. When we triumphantly returned to Johnstown, those daughters hugged us hard. It was amazing to be back and so, so, so much louder.

Amazing Place

While part of me could have stayed on the Rhode Island shoreline, it was never in doubt - I was coming home. Johnstown is where I am from. It is where I belong. I've witnessed grace here. My daughters continue to grow here. I'll keep running through our neighborhoods, sometimes with a stroller.

Goodnight Johnstown. There is always something to be grateful for. Discover something or someone amazing.

And if you need a pick-me-up, come watch my daughter pretend to be a reptile.

Brave New World

On spring Saturdays, my 3-year-old daughter participates in Soccer Shots Laurel Highlands, a frenetic introduction to futbol. Each week, boy and girl whippersnappers learn about a word to apply in soccer and in life. This past Saturday the word was COURAGE.

Last Fall, that 3-year-old was 2 and about 1-inch short at Idlewild Park. When she was denied entrance to the cargo net in Jumpin' Jungle, her world crashed. I blogged about her teary-eyed reaction. Redemption was ours this May. After soccer practice, we were welcomed back to the Jungle.

As we climbed that net together, it was worth the wait. She realized the magic in the moment and as the climb became more daunting, she wasn't sure if she could make it. Magic turned to trepidation, but Dad was not about to have her turn back. We locked hands and together, we completed the ascent. I paused to take it all in. She did not pause because she does not pause.

We seized the rest of the Saturday. Mom and Baby Sister watched Dad and Big Sis attack the amusement. The Scrambler provided the most entertainment for this father as my daughter became more vocal with increased velocity. Rotating at max speed she belted out, "THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANTED!"  Her hair was in a panic and her body was squished into my pelvis. I could only laugh and implore her to hold on tight.

On Sunday, we sang a closing hymn that had this line, "And we will not give into fear". From soccer to Idlewild to Scripture, this weekend roared COURAGE. In the wake of another national school tragedy, we search for answers. A courageous step forward, for this community and all communities, is to acknowledge our fears.

And then, refuse to give in.

Standing at the top of that cargo net, it was natural to look back and see how far we had come. As I watch my girls grow up, I am thankful for everyone who has been a part of their development. Our whippersnappers are a reflection of so many hands and hearts. In that search for answers, express gratitude to the teachers, neighbors, family, and friends who are helping children grow.

Climb your cargo net. Keep looking up.

Our Great Outdoors

On the second Tuesday of May, I sat inside, but it was all about what was going on outside. A panel discussion was held at the Holiday Inn as part of Tourism Week in Johnstown. A room full of adventure seekers and city supporters listened to a panel discussion on our great outdoors. Six local leaders shared their thoughts, experiences, and concerns. Mother Nature was not visible, as the room had no windows, but she surely was the star. A sincere "Thank You" to Cliff, Eric, Mike, Corey, Kyra, and Chad. Their words flowed, like the Stonycreek, capturing my adventurous spirit. And away...we...go...

That Night

A short Subaru trek would have got me from Westmont to Brownstown, but the forest called my name. My wife and I picked up our kids from my parents' house after work, but I was destined for the outdoors, not the Outback. I put my eldest daughter in the toddler hiking pack and we headed for Stackhouse Park. My wife drove the littlest lady home as she cried for Mother, not Mother Nature.

In the wilderness, my daughter and I had fascinating talks about the birds and the trees. As a 3-year-old she described a time when "she was little" when a tree fell on her "head and teeth" and Mom had to take her to the hospital. My wife either hid this incident from me or it never happened. Either way, it was riveting.

When we got home, we told Mom about the animals we saw and found no medical records in regard to the tree-to-skull strike.

Friday

I had a scheduled golf showdown with my father at Glengarry Golf Links in Latrobe. Even though golf was not a part of the panel discussion, I now can sell the sport as "boosting the economy" or "contributing to the outdoor recreation in our community". I never will "go golfing" again.

It was a beautiful day in neighborly Latrobe and the Old Man got the best of me. My Front 9 was full of sunshine, but his Back 9 was even better. He introduced the game to me and I hope for many more duels under the sun.

Later that afternoon, I took my daughters for separate walks along the river wall in Cambria City. They enjoy bird watching, but prefer bird chasing. My youngest took a shot at capturing mallards. She does not have much technique, but there is a lot of joy. My oldest daughter is much more stealth and has a much less joyous approach. No ducks were captured, but we got to see them fly.

Saturday

For the second straight year, I laced up for the Johnstown Christian 5K. In 2017,  I played the role of Super Dad and ran stroller style with my-then-two-year-old. We almost rolled back down the hill that starts the race. The Johnstown Christian 5K's first mile is the Mount Everest in the local stroller circuit. I don't think there really is a local stroller circuit, but Tuesday's panel discussion was all about dreaming big.

The reality - I ran stroller-less this year. My family cheered me on as I made my final turn. The opening hill was much less treacherous and the home stretch was even more fulfilling. My wife and kids cheered me on as I made my way to the soccer field finish. Our tribe has made local races a part of our family life. They often shine a spotlight on what is great about this community. Whether you run, walk, or cheer - get out and support local causes. Running has been an uplifting part of my Dad life. The exercise is great, but the family I return to and the community that runs with me is even better.

Later in the day and before a torrential downpour, we poured out of the Outback for the Rec the Alleghenies Expo at Greenhouse Park. This was a "cool stuff" bonanza for my girls. We got to pet goats, got our feet wet in the river, had our hands painted (prior to goat petting), and wrestled in a water vessel (sister v. sister) that sat on land. The most unexpected feature was two adolescent acrobats on horses. Dressed in shiny green numbers, they took turns doing daredevil poses on sprinting stallions. It was awesome.

Then, I imagined my girls being teenagers and asking me if they can defy death and hang by their feet from a 900-pound beast. We moved along and pet a bunny rabbit.

Sunday

Alas, Mother's Day. Before she was a mother, she was my wife. She still is my wife and before any of this, she was my girlfriend and we were all about adventure. We still are. The adventures have just changed. We pack a lot more bags and feel a wee bit more responsible, but we still seek the thrill.

I cut the grass on Mother's Day to conclude my week in our Great Outdoors. Prior to yardwork, I strolled my youngest around the block to get her to nap. We were surrounded by songbirds and a blue jay floated by. Inside the house, Mom and sister took a much needed /deserved nap.

When everyone awoke, the much needed grass cutting was complete. It was time to move on to the next adventure.

Be a part of Our Great Outdoors. One of the takeaways from the panel discussion was the idea of "buying in" to outdoor recreation in Johnstown. Start this week. The Stonycreek Rendezvous begins this Friday. The 8th Annual 5K Run For Vets is Saturday morning in St. Michael's. If you are not a runner, the 2nd Annual Cambria County Hero Hike happens Saturday on the Ghost Town Trail.

Whatever your weekend plans, appreciate what is around you. Get outside and buy-in.

The Intentional Donut

For as long as I can remember, I have played outside and gone to church. As a kid, both were routine and safe. Jailbreak and backyard baseball had elements of danger, but my childhood neighborhood was a playful paradise. One hour or so a week was dedicated to Sunday church. Paradise lost for the school boy sportsman. 

Now, as a father, I find myself believing in the power of both - the great outdoors and community faith and fellowship known as church. It was a bit of an adventure getting to this point. Before I was "Dad" - before I was "Husband" -  I myself was a bit lost. After surviving teenage life, I zig-zagged my way into my 20s. Somewhere in the middle, I met a girl and built a career. 

When we packed the Subaru this Saturday, the girl, now "Wife", sat shotgun. Directly behind her was a 3-year-old blonde bomber. Directly behind me was a 1-year-old redheaded rascal. To the Indiana County Donut Dash, we go. 

In the 2017 edition of the 5K race, my oldest daughter and I claimed the fastest stroller trophy. Since our victory, the hardware has stood tall on her dresser. Out to defend our title, we arrived early to size up our competition and eat donuts. She had a glazed sprinkled donut pre-race and a glazed sprinkled donut as I took off strolling. I wait until after the glory to consume the sugary sensation that is the donut. 

This year's Dash was a new circuit, weaving through IUP's campus. After Mile 1, my daughter politely passed me one remaining bite of her donut. She proceeded to pass out a few minutes later. I zoomed around the college town while she caught some Zs. When the finish line was in sight, I made a dramatic surge from pavement to green grass. Darting downhill, I would have to thrust over a curb to get over this final hump. Of course, I could have stopped and smoothly made the transition, but that's no fun. 

So, my daughter awoke to the jolt of an almost airborne stroller and the cheers of the crowd. I could not see my precious daughter's reaction, but I did not sense she was thrilled or terrified. She has always been a stoic stroller athlete. In our peripheral, my wife and youngest daughter screamed and babbled as we crossed the finish line. Back-to-back stroller championships. Time for a donut. 

Later that evening, our foursome went to St. Michael's church. Mass is often more exhausting than stroller running 3.1 miles; it takes twice as long and both girls are in play. To top it off, my wife served as lector, creating confusion and chaos in the brain of my youngest. "Why is Mommy sitting by the throne?" "When will she return?"  "Feed me all the snacks we have." She cannot speak full sentences, but I translate her cute face. We ran out of snacks. I was ready to run 3.1 more miles. 

As a Catholic, I know the order of events of a mass. As a father, I have absolutely no idea what is going to happen in that pew. As a runner, I love running for the known exercise I will get and the unknown amount of energy it will take to finish strong. All 3 are part of my identity - Catholic, father, runner. Saturday was a beautiful fusion of all three. 

I digested Saturday's homily like that trophy donut - quickly and surrounded by noise coming out of my children. The message - be an intentional disciple of Jesus. That message and the noise were striking. Mid-homily, I escaped the pew with my youngest daughter, who was chatterboxing the air. I left my oldest with her grandparents- they were fully capable of surviving without me. I had to get to the stained-glass windows in the back of the church. The colors have an all-too-temporary hallucinogenic effect on her. 

Staring at all those reds, blues, purples, and greens, I appreciated how colorful my life had become - blessed with good health, healthy kids, and a best friend in my wife; exceptional grandparents who dedicate time,energy, and survival skills; a rejuvenated faith fueled by experience - in the church I grew up in, in a fellowship called Cafe Sundays, in a course called Alpha, in watching two girls grow up. It is not always peaceful, but it surely has been positive. 

I'm going to keep following Jesus. I'm going to keep running. I'll keep trying to be the best Dad I can be. Hopefully, my girls will one day understand it is not about mass once a week or trophies on the dresser. It's about doing your best and believing - in yourself, in your community, in your faith. 

A day will come when the blonde bomber won't fit in the stroller anymore. The redheaded rascal will be called up. I'll be grateful for each and every finish line. 

Take care of each other, Johnstown. It's not paradise, but let's make it the best it can be. 

April: Apocalypse Now

This has been a strange month. The weirdness of this April might just be evolutionary - a father learning how to survive in household upheaval. Here is where we stand and where we fell in April 2018.

Golf is Back.

I secured my first birdie on my 18th hole of this golf season. This is a rare event in my golf game. It very well could be the only time an animal of the sky is linked to my 2018 adventures on the links. The sun shined bright on me as I scooped my birdie ball out of the hole.

Winter is Back.

Less than 48 hours later, it snowed. I scooped the shovel out of the garage. Animals of the sky chirped profanity.

Ocean Dogs are Here.

I had the pleasure of attending Paw Patrol Live at War Memorial Arena. I went by myself. Just kidding, I went with my 3-year-old and my wife. It was a seismic blast of canine fiction. At one point (spoiler alert), super hero dogs were on an oceanic mission surrounded by jellyfish. I found it to be far fetched. Packs of children did not seem to mind the absurdity of the plot. At one point, I glanced at my wife and daughter. They both were crying. Did Paw Patrol bring out such raw emotion?  No, my 3-year-old accidentally headbutted my wife in the cheekbone.

Playoff Hockey is Back.

For Game 1 of the Pittsburgh /Philadelphia playoff matchup, I was in my Pens jersey. I was sitting by a Dad dressed exactly like me. We were in a hockey arena. We were at Paw Patrol Live.


Men swim at the YWCA.

I found myself in a pool of emotion this April. Kiddos' swim lessons commenced. My junior high basketball coach was with his grandson swimming beside me in a ridiculous sea of children. We laughed about this moment in time. The sneakers are retired. The swim trunks carry on.

Ice cream is Always.

My parents took my children to Shaffer's Frosty Freeze opening day. It was approximately 37 degrees at the time of Banana /Chocolate twist. My mom said there was a steady stream of cars. Johnstowners will risk frostbite for Frosty Freeze. Long live Shaffer's.

Dinosaurs are Back.

I attended A Night at the Dinosaur Museum, a workshop presented by the University of Pittsburgh at Johnstown's Education Division and held at the ACRP Center for Achievement in Cambria City. My oldest daughter participated in all the prehistoric pageantry. She made a dino timeline and a fossil. She got to dig up bones. After completing her dig, she used her shovel to toss sand into the air - not a respectful, paleontology move. it was a great event that gave up-and-coming teachers a taste of classroom chaos.

Kids are Kids.

Immediately after the dinosaur workshop was over, the children were free to play. Sweet, young minds instantly became barbaric cave dwellers, roaming, screaming, and terrorizing the communal space. It was the exact opposite of what you want to have happen in the event there is a house fire. If you listened close, you could hear the dinosaurs.

If this is the apocalypse, I'm going to enjoy it. Live and laugh on, Johnstown.

Rabbit Reflections

The build up and breakdown of Easter 2018 was a basket full of questions. There was calm. There was chaos. Jesus rose. A baby gate fell. As parents, this is what we are pondering.

1. How do you stop the madness?

Our 3-year-old is currently in a sleeping regression partnered with aggression. In bursts of nighttime angst, she has transformed into a Donkey Kong-like creature. In a slumber strike, she rampages through her gate, storming the castle in which we try to find rest. Her 1-year-old sister, a sleeping phenom, refuses to let this noisy lunacy break her dreams. Meanwhile, her parents have tried a range of interventions in search of peace. Snuggling Donkey Kong has been the only successful strategy to date. It is an emotional juggernaut of a snuggle. 

2. What is Mother Nature doing?

Johnstown weather is in a split personality crisis right now. At one point last week, a cyclone of leaves was being swept into the air as snow fell and the sun shined. It was like spring, fall, and winter decided to join forces. Summer was nowhere to be found. Summer is in witness protection. I shoveled snow this morning. I wanted to throw the shovel in the street, but I am not Donkey Kong. I am a father and have to set a good example.

3. Will I be running 40 years from now?

My wife and I participated in the 40th running of the Fool's Run this weekend. This Indiana road race originated in 1979 and is still going strong. I ran the 5K and my wife walked the hilly course. It was a frosty start and a sunny finish. My wife crossed the finish line with a gentleman who ran in the inaugural event. They helped pace each other and she appreciated his stride-by-stride company. I have met a lot of good people in my running life. No matter the cause or location, these local runs are a celebration of community. One day, I hope to be the wise athlete leading young folks down a trail of glory. 

4. Who is going to eat all this candy?

Our family and friends are delusional. The amount of Easter candy in our house is preposterous - a dentist's dread and a parent's nightmare. Trick-or-treaters will be shocked when they get a Reese's Egg from our house. Happy Halloween. 

5. What would I do without this stroller?

I have documented it before and it is worth repeating, our super stroller has revolutionized my exercise circuit. On the Saturday before Easter, I took off running in the Wings of Hope 5K, an event I participate in annually, typically kicking off the racing season. The past two years, I have pushed my oldest, chatty child. She is a peach on wheels each and every time we take off running. Wings of Hope is a local organization that raises money for cancer research and community members fighting the disease. I am blessed with good health and a great side kick. To all those fighting cancer, stay hopeful. I'll keep pushing my daughter in this race until she can't fit in the stroller. Then, it is her sister's turn. Then, I'll sign up for the walk and talk about my days of glory to anyone who will listen. Then, my girls will get college scholarships and I'll live happily ever after. 

6. How do you describe the impact music has?

At Our Mother of Sorrows' Easter Vigil mass, I was Donkey Konged by the singing of a community. When we take our children to church, my wife and I are ping pong parenting. Scripture is read and sippy cups are slung. On Easter Eve, our children stayed at home with my saintly mother. My wife and I got to experience a powerful harmony of hymns. The choir and the people lit up the church with music. If my kids were there, they would have screamed in unending joy and threw sippy cups like grenades. 

It was awesome and inspiring. To everyone who sang on that night, thanks. 

7.  What will tomorrow bring?

With two little girls, two jobs, and two brains, my wife and I are going full speed ahead. The snowstorms, sleepless storms, and sugar storms are all worth it. Faith and humor keep our motors running. 

Sleep well, Johnstown. And if you don't, nap hard tomorrow. 

Trivial Triumph

On Tuesday night of Easter week, a community of trivia stalwarts filled the Boulevard Grill banquet room. Trivia provides adults the opportunity to evaluate what they know, what they never knew, and what they have forgotten. This night had a little bit of everything in support of one local organization.

Mom's House was established in 1983. The organization appeared to have a simple and impactful purpose - help single mothers. That purpose has endured. A year after the foundation of Mom's House, I came into the world. My world consisted of two, hard working, loving parents. Those parents still live in the house where I grew up. They have evolved into two retired, loving grandparents to our two daughters. The hard work endures.

I was blessed and am blessed by my parents. I learned a lot on this trivia Tuesday - about Calvin Coolidge, the compass, Deion Sanders, the trumpet, Miles Davis, the unicorn - but the biggest light bulb shined on parenting. One of my teammates was my wife. We have answered a lot of life's questions together. Recently, we have been unable to answer the question, "How do you get your 3-year-old to go to bed?" The journey continues. My kids are the ultimate trivial pursuit. My wife is the true champion.

When four rambunctious rounds of trivia were in the books, our Super 7 finished 2nd. It was actually the round centered on numbers that ended up being critical in our leaderboard charge. It would have been nice to finish first, but sometimes 2 feels better than 1.

Support Mom's House and the monumental challenge that is single parenting. In my 3+ years as "Dad", I cannot imagine where I would be, where my kids would be, without "Mom"; without my parents; without my wife's parents; without the Johnstown community.

Thank you Mom's House, Boulevard Grill, and to all those parents giving it their best.

The Irish in Us

 Our 1st daughter was born exactly 10 months after my wife and I boarded a plane to Ireland in 2014. On Saint Patrick's Day 2017, our 2nd daughter entered the world.  We've been blessed by some sort of Irish magic. Today, those two girls are growing and eating all the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms box. Magically delicious.

This year, we celebrated our Saint Patrick's Day baby surrounded by family, friends, and Irish reminders - tales, songs, and signs of our connection to the Emerald Isle. We did not eat a Full Irish breakfast this holiday, a traditional plate dominated by meat. Google searching "Full Irish" will clog your arteries. My wife and I did not think blood sausage should be on the birthday breakfast menu. Some Irish traditions need not come home. In all its chaotic glory for Saint Patrick's Day 2018, I ate the most important meal of the day with the most important people in my life - that birthday girl, her wild and bright 3-year-old sister, and the mother who keeps our boat afloat. The main course was eggs and as always, a lot of food ended up on the floor.

For lunch, we went to the Boulevard Grill, our home away from home. As our family and appetites have grown, the Boulevard has been our celebratory stomping grounds. Their Irish menu satisfied our Saint Patrick souls. Before leaving, our eldest and wisest child stated, "I wish this was my place". Thanks to all the Boulevard staff who make all our family nights out feel like a holiday.

Pre-birthday party. I got a glorious nap in with my birthday girl. Pre-napping with my birthday girl, I got a nap in with the daughter who wants to live at the Boulevard. It was a triumphant sequence of snoozing for this father. Taking care of my daughters while they rest is my Dad duty. Serve by sleeping.

On Saint Patrick's Day evening, we were all awake. Friends and family filled our basement for a jolly, green time. Children frolicked as Irish songs filled the air. No one was injured, but some feelings were hurt. My oldest daughter was traumatized by the idea of the party ending. Her sister, the birthday party recipient, gladly went to bed.

As my girls grow, I imagine Saint Patrick's Day will present unique challenges. Every day as a parent is a challenge. Allegedly, teenage girls are a challenge like no other.

For now, I'll enjoy the naps.

Saint Patrick, pray for us.