What a Difference a Year Makes

Ain't that the truth.

One year ago, at this exact point in time, Erin and I (and many of you) were waiting for Molly to come out of heart surgery. Perhaps you recall that a few days prior to the surgery we were weighing the pros and cons - first of whether or not to have surgery, and then of which of two procedures to choose from? Perhaps you even recall the day of the catheterization, when Molly's surgeon said he wanted us to make a decision that, "one year from now we'll all look back on and be happy with." Well, I haven't talked to him in several months, but I can tell you the Browns are pretty darn happy with the decision we made and I'd have to assume he'd agree.

As I say over and over, I don't post much when Molly is healthy. One could deduce from my blatant lack of attention to this space that Molly has been very healthy. This is, for the most part, quite accurate.

Molly has been feeling well for a while now. If you read the CaringBridge site, Erin gives you a bit more detail on the day-to-day activities.

I have to say though, it’s not all little rays of sunshine. Again, thinking back to the surgery a year ago, we knew the band on her heart would only temporarily fix the way her heart functions. The next step is to close the hole, which is quite large. Apparently the material they use as a patch is not typically used for a hole as large as that in Molly’s heart. And, there was also the secondary concern of a potentially smaller, muscular VSD being present. We’ll have to face all of these issues in the very near future.

Earlier this week Molly went to see the cardiologist and she gave her the go-ahead to have the tubes put in her ears. However, she also reminded us of all the information I outlined above. When Molly goes back in March for her evaluation, we’re going to need to start thinking about follow-up surgeries for her heart. For now, though, she continues to do quite well; she feels good; she looks good; she’s happy.

And yes, obviously, so are we.

And That is a Rutgers....First Down

Gavin loves football. This is a good thing because, as some of you may know, I do too. On the surface my new job appears to have nothing to do with football. But when you work for a public university amidst a surge in popularity resulting somewhat from the success of its football program, it takes on a more significant role in everyone's day-to-day activities. Particularly if your job function involves interacting with alumni as often as possible, and tens of thousands of them come to you for a home game.

I get to go to all the games. We have season tickets so I get to go anyway. But now it's actually part of my job. I took Gavin to the first game of the season and he had a blast. Ironically, his favorite part is the cannon. It gets fired after every RU score. For some reason he doesn't like it when the crowd cheers really loud, but he loves the cannon. His other favorite part is when there is an RU first down and the PA announcer shouts the title of this post. He gets pretty into it and says it along with the announcer. We also record the games on the TV at home. For the entire week all Gavin wants to watch on TV is the Rutgers game. He pretends to be Ray Rice and runs plays along with the team right in our living room. He also spends at least 30 minutes every evening playing football in the yard with whomever agrees to "be the yellow team". I can only hope this all works out well for us in the long run.

Separate from football the job also goes well. I am still getting my bearings and learning the ropes, but all in all I have avoided doing anything silly. The group I work with is only five people, so I am pretty comfortable with who they are and what they do And there are another handful of people whose names and functions I have figured out, but there is a long way to go. We have over 150 people in the three buildings on this campus and on two other campuses across the state. In some ways it's been easier for me to meet alumni than it has to meet my colleagues. But none of that was meant to sound negative so if it does chalk it up to bad writing.

I do miss some things about my old gig, but all in all I am thrilled with the decision to move. And I am looking forward to going back to some L'ville events as an alum, rather than an employee.

OBX

Our vacation to the Outer Banks was awesome.

Seriously, I am not sure there is any other way to describe it. Basically, it was precisely what the doctor ordered. The one down side, if there has to be one, is that The Boy almost needed that doctor. Gavin contracted some variety of stomach bug that effected him most severely at night, although it made him fairly irritable during the day as well. But it didn't have too negative an impact on things. Like I said, it was awesome.

My goal was to read, relax, and spend a lot of time in the sun. I was very fortunate to get to do all of those things.

Since I was technically between jobs I was actually able to leave my Blackberry in the bed side table for most of the week. Those of you who know me probably realize how difficult that was. That piece of equipment is practically attached to my hand under normal circumstances [since then the Blackberry has actually been retired as my new employers have forced me to adapt to a Treo; I miss my Blackberry].

I was also able to fly through the first three plus installments in the Harry Potter series. The first three went really fast: no more than a day and a half each. Then the fourth one (this is the one where they jump from 3-400 pages to 7-800 pages) became something of a road block [I have since finished the fourth and am now fighting through the fifth...there are seven. Don't even think about telling me how it ends].

The weather was incredible; the beach was 300 yards away; and the house had a pool. Every day was pretty similar in schedule: early morning run, beach, lunch, pool, beach, pool/happy hour, dinner, hot tub, sleep. If you think that sounds monotonous you're sorely mistaken. That schedule was precisely how I wanted the vacation to go down.

I came back relaxed, tan, and obsessed with a skinny, little wizard. I'm really hoping to pull off a similar vacation next summer.

Television Debut

Many of you probably remember the triathlon fundraiser for the T18 Foundation, and the article that appeared in our local paper the day before the race? Well one of the local news stations must have picked up the article and decided we might make an interesting story for their show.

On August 15 Erin, Molly, me, and Victoria Miller from the T18 Foundation, filmed an 11 minute segment for Perspectives: New Jersey, which aired on August 18 at 5:30 am. I understand it has replayed a few times since then, which is great because I'd bet Erin and I were two of only about a dozen people who caught the opening show [we actually prolonged the start of our vacation one hour to see it].

The host did a great job of asking the right questions. We talked mostly about Molly and the challenges she faces, as well as about the challenges facing all T18 diagnoses. The fundraiser was only the very last thing we discussed, which was nice because all the previous topics should be more useful to the general public. We're hoping we can get a video of the show to put on the T18 web site, and of course, on here as well.

I should not go without saying how impressed I was by my wife. She gets extremely anxious when she has to speak in public or do anything where she is the focus of attention. Well she totally nailed it. She was unbelieveable. On top of looking incredible on screen she managed to speak eloquently about the condition and our experiences. She was simultaneously honest and knowledgeable. And she totally stole the show.

Of course Molly did quite well herself.

You Mean He's Still Around?

Yes folks, I am still around. And I have to apologize for being such a slacker. I've actually had the nerve to fill my free time with things like -- well, actually, I don't really know.

So I promise to make this the first in a series of posts over the next several days relating to me, the new job, our family, television, vacation, politics, religion [hopefully some of you were paying attention? it can't possibly have been so long you'd forget the rules: no religion, no politics]. But I'll post on those other things soon.

First things first, Molly is doing great. She had a bit of a bug a couple weeks ago that lingered longer than we'd have liked, but she kicked it on her own (well with Erin taking super-good care of her, actually) and has now fully recovered. She's been quite happy since then. In fact, she might be the happiest baby on the planet. More on that later.

I know you guys have been checking in and I am sorry for the lapse. Thanks for staying on me to update. It's good motivation.

Big Weekend

Last weekend was a big one.

On Friday Molly turned one year old. I've heard from a lot of people that this year has just flown by. I get it, obviously, but at the same time I assure you it has not. I agree, of course, that it seems like August 10, 2006 just happened, but when taking into consideration all the things that have gone on in those last twelve months there has been nothing quick about it. This year has been terrific; and stressful; and promising; and exhausting. But it's been 365 days. And Molly continues to defy odds.

My mom and Greg came up to celebrate for the weekend. They arrived Friday morning for Molly's actual birthday. We had pizza night at our house with Erin's parents and all the excitement was just too much for the Bear because, as you'll see from the photo, she was asleep by the time the cake was cut.

Saturday was the joint birthday party. We had a beautiful day and a great showing of the extended family. Gavin's only complaint was that there were, "not too many kids as grownups," which seems to me to mean that next year we'll have to have a kid party [it was bound to happen eventually]. There were 6 kids there, but I guess he wants the kids to outnumber the grownups? My biggest complaint was that I didn't consider the size of the Blizzard cake and that there isn't a freezer I know of that could have accommodated its width. So we packed it in ice and cut it just before it turned into Blizzard soup. You know when you are a triathlete in training Blizzards are a staple of your diet.

Sunday we spent the afternoon celebrating Rob's birthday [which was the day before during our party that my wife intentionally scheduled on his birthday to get back at him for having our fantasy football draft on Gavin's birthday] at the Garland's. Another great time and another day of wonderful weather. I'd say with the exception of going two and out in horseshoes that day was just about perfect too.

So it was a great weekend all around.

Today we're scheduled for our first Brown family television appearance. I'll keep everyone posted on where and when you can view it. All I know is we have to go to the studio this afternoon, they're going to put makeup on me, and we'll have to answer some questions on camera. Aside from that, you'll all have to wait in suspense.

Team Molly Bear - NJ Tri

We're now about two and a half weeks beyond the big NJ State Triathlon. I should have posted sooner, I know, but for some odd reason things seem to be quite busy these days. I am not complaining...just making excuses.

So race day could not have been any better. The weather was terrific; the turnout was incredible; the race was well organized; and the Team members all did well (reports from Massachusetts indicate the weather and race were equally impressive up that way).

As many of you probably know by now, the Team raised over $21,000 for the Trisomy 18 Foundation. We can't thank you all enough for your support and generosity.

Pictures are up on the Shutterfly site so you can see what the set up looked like. We did our best to get some group photos but it was pretty chaotic; there were people everywhere!

We will be doing this again next year, so anyone who gave a second thought to joining the team has plenty of time to train. Sprint distance race is a 500 yard swim, 12 mile bike, and 3.1 mile run; and the course is great for a first timer.

Thank you again to everyone who contributed to the Team and/or the event in all the different ways you did.

Leaving Lawrenceville

So the mysterious phone call I keep referring to was a job offer. After careful consideration and an ongoing battle of pros and cons, I decided to accept it.

Just after Labor Day I'll be heading north a little bit to work as a Principal Gifts Officer at the Rutgers University Foundation. This is a great opportunity for me professionally, and it will be a great new challenge.

While I will miss Lawrenceville immensely, I am looking forward to the next chapter.

All the love and support we've received from our friends at Lville since Molly's diagnosis has been incredible. I hope everyone there knows how much it's meant to us, and how much we'll miss seeing them on a daily basis.

But I am an alumnus; it's not like I am going away.

I Prefer My Own Bed

So it's been a while since anything was posted and for a change it is not a reflection of what's been going on. Well it is, but not the way it normally is. Usually I say I haven't written anything because nothing has been happening. In this case it's because so much has been happening. Molly is still healthy, and thankfully none of what's been keeping us busy has been bad.

First we got to spend Fourth of July with the Browns from Hilton Head and some of Margot's family. They were up here in between a wedding in MD and another in upstate NY. It was nice to see them even though it was quite brief.

Then the following weekend we went to a wedding in which Erin was the matron of honor and Gavin was the ring bearer. We had a great time; really nice wedding and a lot of fun. Erin and I got a little mini-vacation out of it in that we brought Aunt Monica with us to watch the kids during all the wedding-related festivities. So we got to stay out late on Friday night and then enjoy the reception on Saturday night - solo.

Sunday we got home in the early afternoon and just hung out for a while. I had to get to bed early because I was catching a flight to Chicago really early Monday morning.

Boy do I wish I had slept through that alarm!

My plan was to fly to Chicago for the day to play in a golf outing. It would be my third year doing so. Great event; a lot of fun. Typically I fly out Monday morning and home Tuesday morning. But I saw no reason to spend the night if I could catch a late flight home Monday night.

The day started out beautiful. A little hot, but sunny and clear. After about five holes it got pretty dark. After seven holes it was downright scary and as the thuderstorms began they sounded the horn to clear the course. Within an hour it was decided the event would be cancelled. Within two hours I was on ym way to the airport to see if I could catch an earlier flight home.

Not only could I not catch an earlier flight, mine was cancelled.

So I called and got a hotel room and booked a flight for the following day at noon. The only real issue was since I was only going for the day I only had the clothes on my back. I had one change of clothes so I could wear something other than what I played golf in for the floght home, but that was it. The hotel gave me some toiletries. Annoying but not terrible.

Then on Tuesday the flight I was rescheduled for was delayed two hours. When we finally boarded and were about the push back from the gate, the captain came on to tell us about a ground stop in Newark and warn us we'd likely push back from the gate and sit on the tarmac for two hours before returning to the gate. I watch the news. I saw JetBlue leave people on the tarmac for 21 hours. He gave me the option to get off the plane and I took it. I figured I could get home faster on another airline.

I was wrong.

So another hotel room was reserved and another flight was booked. I still had no other clothes, and now my golf clubs and the few things I brought were headed back to NJ as well. I bought a Cubs tee shirt in the airport and waited for another airport shuttle.

Wednesday morning I headed back to O'Hare to see if I could get on an earlier flight. Since I couldn't I had to hang out at the airport until my flight departed just after noon. The highlight of the morning was a phone call I received, the topic of which will come up later. Flight took off pretty much on time. We landed in Newark around 2pm.

After quickly locating my golf bag I headed out for the short drive home. It felt great to finally be home. Of course, with Erin and Gavin flying to Houston that evening I wasn't going to be there long. Within the hour I was back out on the Turnpike heading to Newark.

We arrived in a torrential downpour and I got soaked running from the car to the terminal. After waiting in a few lines we finally got Erin and Gavin through security and not one minute later the monitor displayed their flight as "delayed". Since they were already through security Molly and I headed home. Then I got to sit in rush hour traffic on the Turnpike for a while, soaking wet, in the clothes I'd been wearing since Monday.

Of course since Erin and Gavin's flight didn't take off until after 10 pm, I shouldn't complain too much.

Then Friday morning I dropped Molly off with my mother-in-law and headed back to Newark yet again to catch a flight to Houston. We spent a nice weekend down there with our new nephew Ethan. He's a cute little fella, and he likes boats and doesn't seem to mind Tex-Mex. I think the highlight for Gavin was the NASA museum? You'd have to ask him though.

We returned home late Sunday night/early Monday morning in time to catch a few hours of sleep in my own bed before heading to work Monday morning. Of course, since I was basically MIA all the previous week I had plenty to do once I arrived.

Including ponder the content of the aforementioned phone call I received in O'Hare airport. More to come on that in the next post.

Semantics

Tomorrow. A week from tomorrow. Who is really keeping track? Besides, you guys are the ones who told me to post when the mood strikes.

So last week we took Molly to an ENT. The doctor was perfectly nice, but she didn't tell us much of anything. She said the tests Molly had for her hearing may not have been accurate (which we already knew) because the sensors may not have been able to measure things like fluid in the ear, or a narrow ear canal prohibiting the probes from getting down as far as they needed to. She said there are a whole series of tests we should do to gradually determine the extent, if any, of her hearing loss.

See there was no reason to rush for that post.

Since then things have been pretty normal.

This past weekend was nice: we went to the pool on Saturday and the beach on Sunday. The weather was awesome and we all had a good time. Molly and Gavin both seem to like the pool, but neither cares for the freezing, cold Atlantic.

Gavin and I went for a run on the boardwalk. He wanted to run with me, but I brought the jogger stroller just in case. He probably ran about 3/4 mile before asking to get in the stroller and rest. Then after a mile or so he decided to run again. That time he only last about 1/4 mile, but his form was much better. After that I pushed him in the stroller the rest of the way.

Speaking of the stroller, I am going to start running with Molly (or Gavin) as often as possible. I'd love to get to the point where I can do some races with Molly. Some of you may recall my desire to compete in triathlon intensified when we received Molly's diagnosis last March. Then this summer we decided to recruit athletes and supporters for Team Molly Bear to help raise money for the Trisomy 18 Foundation. So one could suggest that Molly has been the motivation behind my entry into the world of "recreational" triathlon.

Well if you're not familiar with Team Hoyt, take a look. I saw Dick and Rick Hoyt on Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel a couple weekends ago and was blubbering like an idiot by the end of the segment. Incredible. Not to sell our team short, but I have a long way to go before I can even ask for a spot on the Team Hoyt practice squad. Yet another "something to aspire to".

Finally, we're approaching the 2nd Annual Emma Marie McCabe Golf Classic. So far there are four foursomes playing in our group. If you're interested in coming out please let me know so I can send you the details. It'll be a great time.

A Better Showing

This past Saturday was race #2 of the season for your fearless triathlosopher. Sadly I have no existential analyses of previous cryptically referenced topics to share. This is good news, however, as it means I was concentrating on pedalling to the finish as quickly as possible rather than formulating prose. That's right this time I actually played the game. And the results were gratifying.

It also means that the philosophical nonsense I keep promising will have to wait another post or two. Basically, the internal battle is so bloody my faithful readers need to be protected from it. For those of you who can't wait, a less cryptic mention: I'm finding it difficult to understand how someone can be as superstitious as I AND believe in fate and karma at the same time; and I am finding it even more difficult to explain why it is that confuses me so much. If someone wants to write that post for me, you know where I am.

So since your humble scribe failed to deliver the goods once again I'll do my best to provide an adequate substitute. Since a lot of you have probably never been to a race, and some of you may be planning to participate in or be a spectator for one this summer (in support of Team Molly Bear), I offer you a day in the life of a recreational "triathlete" - June 23 to be exact (technically starting June 22):

Friday, June 22, 2007, 5:30 - check all bolts and moving parts on bike; take front wheel off and place in the back of the car; collect and lay out all necessities for race day (some people use a checklist; I am not one of those people).

6:15 pm - consume a healthy dinner consisting of grilled chicken and whole wheat penne pasta with tomato sauce.

7 pm - go over all necessities again before packing my bag. The list of things going in the bag looks something like this: wetsuit(s), goggles, race shirt, bike shoes, sunglasses, helmet, running shoes, visor, large black towel, small black towel, sunscreen, race belt (to hold race bib with number).

There are also nutritional essentials for the race: two bottles for bike (one with sports drink, one with water) and one orange flavored gel (basically food in a pouch).

And nutritional essentials for pre and post-race: two bottles of water, one Gatorade, PBJ, banana, cereal bar(s).

And some details the superstitious freak in me tends to: I lay out my clothes for the next morning (khaki cargo shorts [which are worn over], race shorts, flip flops, long-sleeve black shirt, Miller Lite hat). I also take off my chain and wedding ring; put the ring on the chain; and put the whole thing in a small pouch containing a rosary. That pouch then goes in the pocket of the khaki shorts along with my iPod.

8 pm - leave packed bag by front door; put all drinks and PBJ in fridge; put cereal bars and banana in cooler bag; gel in bag with race gear. Go downstairs to lie down in front of the television.

8:10 pm - fall asleep on the floor with Molly.

9:30 pm - Go upstairs to shower and get in bed.

Before this race I slept like a rock. For the previous race I slept probably three hours before waking up for an hour and then falling asleep for two more hours. Before my first race last summer I slept for three total hours (you may remember me telling you this, or perhaps you read it as a quote from my wife in the Trenton Times?).

5 am - wake up; brush teeth; get dressed; go down for breakfast (oatmeal); gather everything.

5:15 am - pulling out of the driveway doing one last mental check; driving to Pittsgrove, NJ.

6:30 am - arrive at Parvin State Park and find a parking spot; leave everything in the car and head to registration. They make me sign a waiver that I believe says something about being physically able to perform the tasks ahead and agreeing not to file suit if it turns out I overestimated my fitness level. A young lady asks me how old I am, hands me a blue swim cap, and tells me I am in the first wave. I throw up a little in my mouth.

6:45 am - return to car with goody bag of stuff I'll never use and a T-shirt I'll never wear; eat cereal bar; unload car (it's freezing outside, I am literally shivering. I decide to leave the sleeveless, short wetsuit in the car and go with the full suit).

6:50 am - set up transition area: basically this is a parking spot for your stuff. It's where you go between the swim and bike, and then again between the bike and run; you hang your bike up on the rack and then lay your stuff out next to it in some organized fashion. As you may imagine, I prefer mine very neatly organized with everything laid out in the order which it will be used: large black towel flat on the ground; bike shoes at the foot of the towel with helmet on top of them and sunglasses/gel in the helmet; shirt on top of helmet; just above that pile are my running shoes with visor on top of them; in front of that, at the top of the towel, my bag (filled with all the things I will have removed from my person) and my small black towel draped over it; I hang my belt with race bib from the seat of my bike.

7:01 am - call my wife and tell her I am there, all set up, and in the first wave. I inform her it is freezing and I am slightly terrified. Disconnect promising to call as soon as I am done.

7:04 am - go to the end of the line for the men's room.

7:10 am - get to the front of the line where I realize I have waited for six minutes to access one of three urinals that have gone seemingly unused for the entire time I stood in line.

7:15 am - race director makes his first announcement - and I am paraphrasing: a bridge on one of the roads on the bike course was washed out in a storm earlier this year. Bike course is now 15 miles instead of 12. Sorry.

7:17 am - go down to the water to check the temperature (warmer than the air) and see how the buoys are laid out for the swim route.

7:25 am - change iPod from Carrie Underwood to The Game (I know, my iPod is the only place those two will ever perform back-to-back) and begin stretching. I am fairly certain I am going to throw up.

7:40 am - return to transition area; turn iPod off; put everything into my bag; put cell phone into seat pouch on my bike (I like to put it in there in case I get bored on the bike ride...or in case I need to call for help for any reason); start getting into my wetsuit.

7:45 am - wetsuit is on just in time for pre-race meeting; one final check of transition area set-up; slap on my swim cap and grab goggles.

7:50 am - walk down to the water realizing I heard not one single word of the pre-race meeting; I'm positive I am going to throw up; and I could really use that urinal again (but it took me five minutes to get the wetsuit on and I am not about to mess with that).

7:57 am - in the water waiting for the countdown; I get myself just inside the far left start buoy so I start from the farthest point away from the buoy to which we're swimming, but I have a good angle to that buoy and a high likelihood of swimming out on my own since people tend to take the shortest distance.

8 am - gun goes off for wave one of four; 150 arms start swatting around in the water; I get out with relative ease and limited contact with other swimmers.

8:04 am - I am to the farthest buoy, making a turn around it; I look back and see a ton of people behind me. There is plenty of energy left in the tank; considerably less water has been ingested than previous open-water swims.

8:08 am - Out of the water; light-headed; short of breath. I am running up the beach and people are cheering; it's kind of like being in one of those flashback scenes from CSI (the real one, none of the Miami or NY garbage) when all the background images are blurry and the voices and sounds appear to be coming out of an old tape player that's really low on batteries).

8:08 and change - I am pulling my wetsuit off and drying my feet on the towel; I pull on my race belt; throw on my shirt; stick the gel in my shorts; put on my helmet and buckle the strap; put on sunglasses; step into shoes; grab my bike and jog out of transition (I make it sound fast, but from the time I stepped out of the water to the time I jogged out with my bike nearly three minutes elapsed).

8:11 am - jump on the bike; clip into pedals; start pedaling.

This is the worst part of the race, in my opinion: It's the longest segment and it's pretty lonely. It also happens to be pretty uncomfortable.

I try to get into a groove at 20 mph or so, and get comfy in the aero position. The course is flat and has long straightaways, so this is not so hard to do.

8:30 am - suck down the orange gel and wash it down with water.

8:50 am - after sipping from the bottle of sports drink I attempt to return it to the bottle cage attached to the vertical bar on the lower part of my bike frame; I miss the cage and the bottle falls. This happens to people all the time. You just leave it. They're like $4. However, this time the bottle didn't fall all the way to the ground. It actually got stuck between my left foot/pedal and the bike frame ao that I was unable to pedal. This at roughly 20 mph (though decreasing rapidly). My options are to slow down and eventually stop so I can extract the bottle, or, what I decided to do, continue at current rate of deceleration and carefully reach down for the bottle. After some forceful pulling the bottle came free and I was able to pedal again. A young lady flies by me and says, "great save, that could have been ugly." I thank her, try to increase my speed, and watch her butt get smaller and smaller in front of me. I finally caught her at the bike dismount eight minutes later.

8:59 am - rack my bike; take off helmet and replace with visor; take off bike shoes and replace with sneakers; run out of transition. Takes just over one minute. As I run out I look down at my watch to see that I am at exactly one hour and know that with a sub 25 minute run (which is always my goal) I can beat my target time of 1:25 (which was set thinking the bike course was only 12 miles). Incidentally I have run a sub 25 minute 5k in exactly zero competitive events. In fact, just six days prior I ran a 26:45.

9:08 am - I throw an empty water cup on a pile of empty water cups and realize I've just passed the one mile mark in under eight minutes. My calves are really sore. I have never experienced the feeling of cramping calves before.

9:13 am - we reach the turnaround; the volunteers standing there tell us we're all doing great and we're half way there. I note my pace has slowed.

9:18 am - I grab a cup of water and don't even try to drink it, I just throw it toward my mouth realizing I need to giddy up for 1:25.

9:21 am - realizing there is not a lot of time left I pick up the pace. It seems like a good idea at the time. I have no idea where the finish line is, but I know it has to be close because my target time is approaching.

9:24 am - cross the finish line; hit the button to stop my watch; look up at the clock. The clock and my watch are off about three seconds, so go with their official time at 1:24.25.

I give my timing chip back and run straight to the bathroom. Not surprisingly, I no longer feel the need to throw up.

9:26 am - call to tell my wife I finished; Gavin answers the phone and yells, "did you win, Daddy?" Smiling I make my way to the post-race food where, since I know I have a PBJ and a banana in my car, the only thing that appeals to me is a chocolate covered donut.

9:30 am - pack up transition area; share a couple well-wishes with a few guys in my area; head to the car.

9:40 am - back on the road heading toward home. I eat my PBJ and banana and start sipping on my Gatorade. I estimate arrival around 11:05 am.

11:05 am - bumper to bumper traffic on the NJ Turnpike northbound, 30 miles from my exit. Suddenly I'd like to throw up again.

So that's about what it looks like. And let me tell you: I am not even a serious triathlete. There are guys out there who are far more intense, and do this almost every weekend. But hey, look at all the stuff I got done before 10 in the morning. Not a lot of people can say that about their hobbies.

We're taking Molly to the doctor in the morning to talk about her hearing. She has been feeling great lately and has been happy Molly again. All is good. I'll post again tomorrow after we see the doctor, and I promise to actually talk about Molly this time.

Get a Grip

Molly is feeling much better these days. The super-powered antibiotics seemed to do the trick as she has been less junky for the past few days. She's been extremely happy and very talkative as well. She went in the pool today, where her brother intends to spend absolutely all of his time this summer.

This morning Molly visited the orthapedist, and he gave her a good report. He said her hips are starting to work into the sockets and that her hands are looking good. We're supposed to keep doing what we're doing relative to her hip brace and hand splints.

I know last post I promised some variety of philosophical mumbo jumbo, but I haven't had time to put it together so it's worth reading. This time crunch has also gotten me thinking about the amount of time that passes between posts.

There are times where I post something regularly, and then there are spells (like the last month or two) where a lot of time seems to pass between messages. I've seen other blogs where the author only posts one day per week; others where it's two days per week. On the one hand this would add pressure on me to actually get something done on a particular day, but on the other hand it would keep you all from having to check the page on a daily basis.

So this one is for you - you're the ones reading, after all.

Would you prefer I:

Continue to post randomly; when the mood strikes or there is some news?
Post one day each week?

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Sick on Your Birthday

That's the worst. No one wants to be sick on their birthday!

Molly is ten months old today - 5/6 of a year - and she has stinking pneumonia

The pediatrician gave her super-powered antibiotics, and the cardiologist ok'd a decongestant, so we're hoping she kicks it quickly. I think you've all been around long enough to know what happens if she doesn't; and around long enough to know I won't say it out loud.

She is generally uncomfortable and has a lot of junk in her chest; we can hear it when she breathes. Pardon the graphic descriptor, but we're all friends here: since she can't cough the phlegm out like an adult, it gets stuck in there making it difficult to breathe. The only way to get it out is to spit it up after a feed, as she does every now and again (like just two minutes ago while I was typing this), which is disgusting to us but apparently a relief for her. She shows brief spurts of happy, smiling Molly - usually following one of these episodes (although that doesn't seem to be the case right now).

Her vitals have remained fairly stable. Since we now have a mini-medical facility set up in her nursery, we can monitor these things without going to the doctor (or that other place). So let's keep our fingers crossed.

In other news, the Triathletes for Trisomy 18 program continues to see steady contributions from far and wide. The current total is 93 donors and $17,675. Unbelievable. And if I haven't said it already, we can't thank you all enough.

Finally, your humble scribe is feeling philosophical again. I float this to you as a warning more than anything else: Either the next post will be really long and convoluted, or the next three to four will be inter-related. I've got some thoughts to put in order, but I've been asking myself some questions lately and what would be the point of this space if I didn't attempt to articulate them?

Guilty as Charged

Triathlon season officially kicked off today for two members of Team Molly Bear. As a tune up for our big Team outing in July, Rob and I headed up to the Poconos for the Black Bear Triathlon: an extended sprint race. For some background, a sprint is typically a 500 yard swim, 12 mile bike, 3.1 mile run. Today's event was a 750 yard swim, 18 mile bike, 3.3 mile run. We drove the bike course yesterday to get an idea of the terrain, and in the car it seemed hard. Let's just say the difficulty in the vehicle did not translate quite exactly to the difficulty on the bike.

I finished though. That's really what it's about; making sure I am in shape for July 22. But I certainly have a lot of work to do in the next two months. Rob fared much better: he finished fourth in his age group; inside of 50 for the whole event, I'd guess.

My initial hope was to finish. My secondary goal was sub two hours. 2:18.07.

I'm not sure I've been clear: The bike was hard.

Relative to the race, fairly specific to the bike, I am guilty of numerous things:

1. Looking past the next game
It happens in sports all the time: a team looks two games ahead to a rival or a tough team, and overlooks their next game. Then they get beat by that team. I was clearly looking ahead the NJ State race, and the Black Bear put a beating on me.

2. Biting off more than I can chew
This was a tough course in the early part of the season. I was not in shape for it. A lot of that has to do with #1, the rest with #3.

3. Doggin' it
I haven't been working hard enough in the gym; I haven't been on my bike enough; I've skipped workouts. All of this has to stop now. Nothing changes your outlook like a good beating.

4. Poor concentration
Most of this post was conceived during that treacherous bike ride. I probably should have been focused on the next climb, or navigating the winding turns. Instead I was writing this post in my head, and begging for it to be over.

Which leads to the biggest thing I am guilty of:

5. Giving up
Obviously I finished, so I couldn't have literally given up. But the thought crossed my mind more than once. I actually considered just flagging down an official and having them call for a ride home. I was positive there was no way I could finish the bike course -- especially knowing the run followed immediately behind. I'd love to say I fought through it; got back in the game. But I didn't really. I just went through the motions and tried to do as well as I could having already checked out.

But ultimately the thing that kept me from actually throwing in the towel was that it's just not my style. Can you imagine if this post started off with, "Well I couldn't finish the triathlon this weekend."? Yeah I'd be pretty disappointed too. And that's another reason I kept going: I didn't want all those previous posts talking about perspective and determination to be contradicted. Not to mention that I would have had to tell my wife and little boy I'd quit.

And finally, the big thing: Molly's little face. I mean seriously, what's a hilly bike ride on a cool Sunday morning in the Poconos in comparison to what Molly does every day?

The BBQ Package

How do you differentiate between a long weekend and a long weekend? I guess I could use text treatments? A long weekend would be the act of adding a day or two on the end of a weekend, and a long weekend would be a weekend that just seems longer than normal; the equivalent to a long commute. I guess it doesn't really matter, since this past weekend was both.

On top of the fact that my office closed in celebration of Memorial Day on Monday, I decided the take Thursday and Friday off as well. This extended weekend/mini-vacation was much-needed, and well used. However, we were pretty much non-stop the whole time. Basically we just packed too much into the five days, and forgot to leave any time to really take advantage of the time off.

Thursday we spent the day running traditional errands: groceries, lawn care, taking the car in for service, cleaning. Not that much fun. Totally necessary.

Friday and Saturday we had Trisomy 18 Foundation meetings at our house. We had guests from Canada and DC, and we got a lot of work done over one and one half days of pretty intense planning.

Saturday afternoon we had a BBQ; we'll come back to this.

Sunday we went to visit friends in their new house.

Monday we (actually it ended up being just me but don't get ahead of yourself) went to visit other friends for parade/BBQ.

Some other things were mixed in there as well.

For example, Friday Molly had to go to the GI doctor down in south Jersey. They changed one of her medications, and increased the dosage on the other; If that doesn't work we're supposed to try continuous feeds; If that doesn't work we're supposed to consider a j tube.

Molly was miserable for the trip home from the doctor and, in general, wasn't herself. She had a fever Friday night of around 102.

Saturday morning Erin took her to the doctor even though her fever had gone down. He said she might have a virus that's been going around and to come back Tuesday if her fever was still hanging around. She seemed to be feeling much better and gradually started working back to normal.

Saturday afternoon we had a BBQ; we'll come back to this.

Sunday Molly was pretty much her normal self again. Also, she started tolerating her feeds a bit better. The new medication hadn't been filled yet, so this was with just the alteration of the dosage of the other. In fact, I am pretty sure she only spit up once between Sunday afternoon and Tuesday afternoon. For reference, in a normal day she spits up four times minimum.

Monday Erin and Gavin woke up sick. They both had terrible coughs. They both stayed in the house all day, leaving me to play "single guy" at a family outing. I got a taste of what it's like to be the unmarried, non-parent in a house full of families. So I played the part: I drank a dozen beers, wiped sauce on my jeans, and gave the kids all the Skittles and Coca-Cola they could handle. Then I went home to my real life. Gavin actually stayed home from school on Tuesday, but both he and Erin seem better today.

Oh yeah, we had a BBQ on Saturday afternoon.

The BBQ Package

We were anticipating about 15 people; four of whom were children. I love a good cookout, and I know my way around a grill. But we figured since there were going to be several people we don't know that well, it would be better to spend more time mingling and less time cooking. The BBQ Package has it all, so why not.

Now if you haven't clicked the link to see what it consists of, please do. I mean they thought of everything. We didn't even have to buy napkins.

So I go out to pick it up at 4 pm (everyone has been there since 3) when it seems everyone will be good and hungry. We didn't put any appetizers out because it's all taken care of with this huge order.

I put the huge bags down on the floor and begin to unload the endless trays of food. To my surprise, the meat is all raw. Actually not all raw; the chicken and sausage is cooked and just needs heating. But the steak, burgers and dogs are all raw.

Are you serious?

Now please, people, give me your honest opinions: should I have known this would happen? I've told this story to several people and there have been plenty who think I should have expected raw meats. I am just wondering if there is a majority vote.

To me, you buy raw meat at the grocery store or the butcher. Restaurants sell it to you cooked.

No big deal, I lit the grill and got to work. But it wasn't part of the plan. I love the place the food came from and I am not about to boycott them or anything, but I just feel like something should be said. At the very least they need to make a change in their promotional poster to indicate the meat is raw.

Unless I am the only one who wouldn't know that already?!

When Did I Become a Grown-up?

I started a post on this topic in December and it never materialized. Mostly because I was still pondering the answer. I basically determined there was no answer. It just happens.

You wake up one day, and you're a grown-up.

Well I am reconsidering that position. In some cases, apparently, you can pinpoint the exact day you wake up a grown-up. Sunday, May 20, 2007 was that day for me.

The concept of adulthood is a bit confusing. Does it have to do with age? Status? Behavior? I am not sure. Society's perception of "adulthood" is a bit arbitrary, wouldn't you say?

You turn 18 and you're an adult.

Now you can vote; You can go to war; Be tried as an adult. You still can't drink; Your parents can kick you out of the house; You can't rent a car. When I turned 18 I was a senior in high school; I'd lived away from home for more than three years; I chose not to vote; I didn't have any money. I was not a grown-up. Hell I have friends who are on the back side of 30 that still aren't grown-ups. Not that there is anything wrong with that: I just said I wasn't one before yesterday.

You get married and you're an adult.

I just don't see the connection here. You're part of a two person team so therefore you've got the added responsibility of looking out for another person. But that should just be an inherent desire. If you're married to the right person you would feel that responsibility at any age. The problem is people don't take marriage seriously anymore [obviously I don't mean all people]. And their behavior often makes it clear that they're not quite grown-up yet.

You buy a house and you're an adult.

To get a mortgage you have to be a certain age and portray a certain level of maturity. Basically you have to have a job and a steady income. An 18 year old kid who waits tables, full-time, in a fancy restaurant, can pull in 40 grand and buy a townhouse. He can use the living room for a whiffle-ball field and the kitchen for a meth lab. He's got a blackjack table upstairs where his bed should go, but he passes out on the couch in the second bedroom most of the time anyway because that's where the plasma and the Xbox are. Point being: Not everyone is sewing window treatments and working on the landscaping so they can have the curb appeal.

You have a child and you're an adult.

The philosophical aspect of this statement is so jaded I will leave it completely alone. But even for me, having a child did not make me a grown-up. Sure I had to come home at night, and even if I was a little banged up I had to get up at 6 am. But by the time Gavin was born I was steadily employed, married, and a homeowner so I was already behaving similarly to an adult.

When Molly was born, it got pretty real. We were dealing with emotions we had never realized existed; making decisions no one should ever be faced with; aging well beyond chronology. Even still, #96 in my list of the 100 things I have learned this year, which was posted on just over one month ago, referenced a denial of my own adulthood.

So what could possibly have been such an epiphany, if none of the things above - and not even the combination of all things above - made me feel like a grown-up?

Saturday night when I went to bed I looked out the front window; there was a mysterious vehicle parked in our driveway. No big deal: I wasn't going anywhere. I figured it would be gone by morning. It wasn't. Then I remembered that the mystery vehicle in question had actually been put there by my wife. And we had paid for it before putting it there. And it will be in the driveway for the foreseeable future.

It's a minivan.

I'm a grown-up.

I Never Thought it Would Be Me.

It was bound to happen eventually, but, let's be honest, since I don't do much of anything related to care-giving, I never thought it would be my fault.

Last night, while changing Molly's diaper and getting her into her pajamas, I pulled out her button.

It's been in for a number of months, so the skin has healed around it, and it's supposedly removable. All in all it shouldn't have been too big a deal. But it was.

We were told the hole in her abdomen would heal like an ear piercing and we would be able to put the button back in like an earring after a few months. Well, since I was a big fan of the piercings back in the day, I have plenty of experience with putting earrings in. That is the worst possible analogy that could have been drawn.

In fact, it was more like stuffing a cucumber into the top of a Gatorade bottle. Sure, eventually you'll get it to go in, but not without some extra effort and a little mess.

She was not happy. She screamed right in my face while I was doing it. An hour later she was still mad at me. Two hours later she was asleep on my lap. She slept well and seemed comfortable. I hope we don't have to do that again any time soon. But at least we know we can do it.

Trinity won last night; I know you were all curious. Beat the number one seeded Cortland Red Dragons 2-1 in 13 innings. I listened to most of it; it sounded like an incredibly well-pitched game. The boys play Ithaca in the winners bracket final at noon today. Go Bants.

Which Weighs More?

A twelve pound baby? Or a twelve pound rock?

That's right, folks, the Bear is now up over twelve pounds. This takes her completely out of the newborn category. Meaning, I don't know anyone who weighed over twelve pounds when they were born.

Quickly: wishing the Bantams of Trinity College luck this afternoon in their second round game in the NCAA New York Regional. If you read this between 4:15 pm and 7:30 pm on Thursday, click here for live radio coverage. If you read this later, click here for NCAA Regional coverage. Some of you may not know I played ball for the Bants a million years ago...ok nine years ago. The Class of 1998, my class, was actually the first Trinity team to make the NCAA tourney; we went two and a BBQ. They've done better since then.

Back to Molly.

She had a great trip to the cardiologist earlier this week. As I mentioned before, she now weighs twelve pounds. The doctor also told Erin she didn't need to see Molly again for ten months. We both said the same thing: "When she is ten months?" But no, she actually meant in ten months. When we go back next March the cardiologist is going to consult the surgeons about another procedure to remove he PA band and go ahead and close the VSD. This was also the first time we learned the actual size of the opening - it has always simply been referred to as "a large opening." According to the doctor the hole is 12 mm, just over 1 cm. That's roughly the width of the tip of my pinkie finger. We didn't ask how that related to the size of her heart, but it seems "large" is an accurate descriptor.

Good news all around. Also sort of eye-opening. You all know my superstitious tendencies and I am certainly not going to take anything for granted. I've been skeptical to even make plans for Molly's birthday in August. But hey, it can't be all bad when there is something on Molly's calendar for March 2008.

$0.75

Nine months is three-quarters of a year. Seventy-five cents is three-quarters of a dollar. Get it?

Anyway Molly is nine months old today! Very, very exciting.

It's been a stretch of birthdays for us, and it's not over yet. Going back a week and a half we had UJ's birthday, Erin's mom last Friday, Erin last Saturday, Molly today, and on Sunday Dublin turns six (or 42 in dog years). And Gavin now seems to be at the age where his friends are having real birthday parties, so amidst these two weeks of family birthdays we're mixing in birthday parties for two friends.

And obviously I am not forgetting about Mother's Day. I even got my cards already. And considering last year I had to ask Erin to wait in the car while I ran into the mall - on Mother's Day - to buy her gift, I am way ahead of the curve.

Molly got some shots yesterday: two in each leg. It was her six month vaccine. I seem to remember she was scheduled for them around her six month birthday, but she was sick and had to postpone them. She took it like a pro and, according to Erin, only cried later. It was probably one of those things where the doctor pushed the needle, and then they looked at her in stunned silence waiting for a response. Then, when she noticed they were staring at her waiting for a response, she started to cry.

Doctor said her lungs sound clear. She weighs 11 lb 10 oz with her diaper on.

Starting Monday she will have two sessions a week with her OT.

Total Slacker

I am hard-pressed to think of a time since college where I have just completely abandoned a fundamental responsibility. It's totally irresponsible of me and I wish there was a better excuse. Hundreds of thousands of readers have likely found a new guilty pleasure for business hours. I'd imagine the US Weekly subscription rate has increased; fantasy baseball sites are seeing a record number of transactions; iTunes movie purchases have gone through the roof. And here I am thinking my lack of attention to this space only has an impact on me. Selfish, selfish man.

However I have said this before: when Molly is healthy I am less likely to post and more likely to enjoy her health. And I have been consumed by my full-time paid job, my full-time volunteer job, and my full-time training job.

Since we recently came clean to the fact that this is all about me, I may as well start there (if I haven't already).

The Triathletes for Trisomy 18 program is off to a roaring start. The early and generous participation has been as impressive as it has been humbling. The number of people who stepped up and contributed early has completely changed the perspective of the program. Our original goal was $10,000 and thanks to the 49 people who have given in the last two weeks we are merely $100 from that total. With this continued motivation from teammates and generosity from donors, I would not be surprised to see the total go up over $15,000. This would be a nice base for the Foundation, and a tremendous kick-start to a national program. Bottom line: thank you, thank you, thank you.

In preparation for the big race in July I have run in two 5k fun runs in the last two weekends.

The first was part of a larger celebration at Giants Stadium as we broke up the offseason with a Draft Day tailgate party. Even though the season is still months away we got together with some adult beverages and grilled meat products and spent the morning talking about who the Giants needed to draft to improve on last season's 8-8 record. Then we went inside the bubble and watched the draft on TV. Anyway before all that started I ran a 5k.

Then this past weekend, as part of a larger celebration at Lawrenceville, I ran in the Big Red Race. This race was the end to Alumni Weekend where 1200 of our closest friends come back to school for a weekend of parties and dinners and sporting events on campus. Since I work in the Alumni Office I get to partake in this splendid event. And by partake I mean work from 8 am until midnight Friday and Saturday. Nonetheless, it's a lot of fun.

The best part of the BRR is the kids race. Last year Gavin ran with the "Under 3" crew in the 25 yard sprint. He got a little nervous half way through when he couldn't see daddy at the finish line, and he ran back to Mom screaming his head off. This year he moved up to the 4-5 year old group at 50 yards, and ran it three times. Well only twice officially, but after he ran it with the girls the first time, he had to sprint back to the start line so he could run it with the boys. So three 50 yard legs, two races, no spills, no tears, one medal. Next year he is running the 5k with me.

Saturday was Erin's birthday, but since I was at work all day we didn't do anything special. In fact, we only saw each other for like eight minutes all day. Colleen and Steve were in town for their baby shower, which was Saturday afternoon, so she at least got to do something fun on her birthday.

Everyone will be glad to know that a couple Fridays ago Erin and I finally went to Changs. We had an excellent dinner. It was a little loud, and a little dark. I think that basically means we're getting a little old. But good times, nonetheless.

Now for Molly. As I said, all is well. She seems to be tolerating her feeds better lately. She has been sleeping well. Thanks to the exercises her mother and OT do with her, she is starting to grab hold of things, and balance herself when she is propped up in the boppy. So she isn't exactly sitting up, but let's see anyone argue with me. We were supposed to take her for a feeding clinic last week, but our cardiologist, who works out of the same office, called to tell us that would be a waste of time and money. We'd have had to pay a co-pay for each of the five specialists who participate, and they wouldn't likely have been able to help much anyway. She also had a hearing test a couple weeks ago that she failed. It's a pass/fail test, there are no varying degrees. We're scheduled for a more comprehensive test in a couple weeks where they will hopefully measure the degree at which she can or can't hear. We know she can hear. I don't care what the test says.

Ok so I feel a little better. There are new pictures on the Shutterfly site; I have updated on a couple weeks worth of happenings. Perhaps I can get myself back on schedule and keep this space more up to date. I monitor the traffic on the site, so I know people are checkin in daily. Thanks for bearing with me.