My name is Scott T. Holland. I'm a newspaper columnist-editor-designer, a self-published author and a marketing-sales-Web-whatever else guy for my parents' family business, now living in Gurnee, Ill. The site is about my life, which includes a beautiful wife, our four young sons... plus way too much time watching the Cubs and bad television. That said, if you don't find me interesting, this blog will likely bore you to tears.
All right, one of the main problems with me taking so long to post photos is you, the reader/viewer, have to rewind your brain six months, especially in regard to Isaac, who was freshly 13 months old in these pictures. So when you see how he's climbed up into the chair all by himself, it's a little more impressive. This entire issue is complicated, of course, by the fact Nugget hasn't grown all that much bigger over the following six months, although he is much more sure of himself in terms of movement, balance and so on.
Way back in November (I know, I know, I still have 2,000 unedited photos from the last six months) Jack, Max and I participated in the Cub Scout Pack "campout" at Indian Mounds Scout Reservation in Oconomowoc, Wis. In addition to this being the trip that forced me to get serious about what I eventually learned is a herniated disc (the drive was brutal), I also managed to take some decent pictures.
The first time I did this trip was with Jack a few years ago. We were in a smaller cabin populated entirely by his Den 1 Scouts and their parents. There was a smaller overall contingent this time around, and no one else from Jack's den, so it wasn't as much fun for him as before, but Max ate up the entire experience. Of course having two kids and one dad made it a little hard for me to get decent snaps of each of them enjoying their own favorite parts, but I think there's enough here to prove we had a pretty good time all things considered.
I learned a lot in the first 572 weeks of my son's life, the most recent 52 of which we celebrated with a father-son dinner at Golden Corral, a Boy Scout camping trip and a Sunday afternoon at his grandparents' house.
I learned how quickly trepidation can give way to the rush of riding The Demon six times in a row and only stopping because the park is closing.
I learned I can survive Raging Bull and The Viper, in the same night, and that one companion trip is enough before I don't have to ride any more.
I learned a week of helping in the fourth-grade classroom at Vacation Bible School is about two days too many.
I learned one cause of sadness is when your gas passing isn't loud enough to make your younger brothers laugh.
I learned there's no parental shame in being outsmarted by your offspring in the church's audio-visual control booth.
I learned being a fantastic big brother has its limits, and that those limits involve dirty diapers.
I learned the excitement of Cubmobile and Pinewood Derby racing wears off much faster than the allure of the model rocket launch — probably because the older the Cub Scouts get, the bigger rockets they're allowed to assemble.
I learned there is not a time machine in our dining room, there really is a completely different person reading "Calvin & Hobbes" in his underwear.
I learned anti-anxiety and anesthesia drugs are not enough to keep a tooth extraction from being traumatizing.
I learned you cannot dream of re-wearing a Halloween costume based on an iPhone 5 once Apple has released the iPhone 6 and iOS8 unless you have the means to upgrade.
I learned if you spread dried leaves on the front steps you can hear trick-or-treaters approaching so you can be a good host and still divide your attention.
I learned we could spend a night at the pediatric sleep clinic or in near-freezing weather at the campground and still get better rest than the ones stuck home with the toddler.
I learned just how long one family can spend in the Science Storms exhibit at the Museum of Science and Industry.
I learned some legends are told, some turn to dust or to gold.
I learned we all do grieve in our own way, and those ways can include going through your great-grandmother's house after her funeral and making a list of all the things you'll miss.
I learned I can't hold back tears when the last item on said list is simply "her."
I learned there some good adults in the world who don't think twice about being FitBit friends with a gadget-happy kid who was super excited about his Christmas present.
I learned the courage to try new things is fueled by unexpected sources, like the summer reading program that granted ice rink passes and free skate rental.
I learned you're allowed to cross over to Boy Scouts even if you take your moment at the Arrow Of Light bridge to stare wordlessly at the audience.
I learned to trust the adults who encourage us to push beyond self-imposed limits and expectations.
I learned to savor every hug, because there's no telling how long I'll wait for the next one.
I learned, when parents are tied up dealing with a sick baby, a grandfather will give up an evening at home, step in and take his grandson to see kids he doesn't know perform "Peter Pan" at the school.
I learned to let go on a Friday afternoon and not re-establish contact until the troop returns from its camping trip Sunday morning, that there could be a fun weekend with no calls home from the Scoutmaster but there will be an immediate need to shove the child into the shower.
I learned "Thanks for ruining my life" is what you say (shout) when your parents hang up your clothes in a closet instead of leaving them in a laundry basket on the floor of your room.
I learned just how often I can be surprised at how big he's getting, even twice in the same day.
I learned a trip to the dentist can be completed without tears.
And ultimately, I learned the challenges of fatherhood are indeed new every day. But so are the rewards, and as our oldest gets older there will be more and different ways to love and enjoy him, many of which I can't even envision until they're already happening.
As noted in my last post, trick-or-treating was the Sunday before Halloween for us, which really freed up for us what actually was Halloween weekend. At the top of the list was visiting Great America to renew our passes for 2015 at the lowest possible rate, and also take one more spin on whatever had the shortest lines. But first, some stuff around the house:
OK, so here's the thing with our Winnie the Pooh Halloween costume: We got it for Jack in 2004. Halloween was a week after he turned six months old. It fit him very well. Four years later it was Max's turn — he was nearly eight months old. But it still fit just fine. Three years after that, Charlie was due for a turn, a little before he hit nine months. Still, no sizing problems.
Isaac, however, was born in early October. There was no way he could wear the Pooh outfit his first Halloween (setting aside his little hospital stint that week), and we just assumed by the time his second Halloween rolled around, a few weeks past his first birthday, the Pooh gear would be too small. But we held onto it just in case and — wouldn't you know it? — the Nugget is such a runt it fit him very well, all things considered.
Gurnee's trick-or-treat hours are always a Sunday afternoon. The weather this year was absolutely ideal. Actual Halloween was a cold, wet Friday, so when we made our traditional trek to Pops & K's house to hand out candy, there weren't many visitors. We did, however, recreate a photo of K and Pooh from Max's first Halloween. And I threw in a couple of other Pooh photos for good measure. And a video of Nugget trying to walk in the darn costume, which was never intended for children at that level of mobility.
This is still October (we're going in order, people, and I am trying to catch up as quickly as possible), which you could probably tell by the pretty leaves, no jackets, etc. Kristie took these photos in the afternoon right when Jack got home from school — he gets back about 45 minutes before Max, and even back then Isaac was excited for his biggest brother to get off the bus. (Charlie was outside playing with them as well, but he somehow avoided the camera for the most part here — you can see him in the background of the first frame.)
Yes, in real-time it's March 2015. Max has turned 7, we're registering for spring soccer and hoping it warms up enough this weekend to melt the snow off the driveway none of us were healthy enough to shovel a few days ago.
But deep in the recesses of iPhoto, it's still October 2014. The kids are outside without jackets, playing in the yard every afternoon after school, and there's still leaves on some of the trees! So don't look at this as me being too busy to edit and post our pictures on time, consider it a chance to remember what it was like when you couldn't see your breath and never worried about your wet hair freezing on the way to work in the morning. Only now you're not tempted by all those fun size candy bars taunting you from the pantry.
