Viva La Tribune

Dear Quinn,

When the day comes that you become old enough to read this, you probably won't remember most of the faces in the picture above. Except mine, naturally.

I will tell you that they were Daddy's former co-workers at the Albuquerque Tribune, that most of them held you at one point, welcomed you into a newsroom for the first time, and listened with interest every time I bragged about the most minor of milestones you achieved.

I will tell you that they were remarkable, each and every one. They were dedicated to a level of excellence that inspired your Daddy to be the best at what he does, to learn to truly love journalism. To some it's merely a vocation, but Daddy learned from these people above that it should be much, much more than that.

I will tell you that these people and your Daddy were part of a newspaper that died. It died after 86 years to causes that, I hope, will be history once you come to make career decisions of your own.

We watched it die, you and I. You were the little one in the plastic fire hat, trundling through the newsroom like an off-kilter conqueror, exploring whatever came around each corner. I was the bearded adult male, unable to fathom or hold back the wave of emotion caused by some 66 pages of newsprint and fresh ink.

I will tell you I cried on your shoulder that day, the last day of a great newspaper, because I could no longer fight back those tears. And because I knew it would be the last time I -- and you -- would be gathered around these great people inside a newsroom.

Finally, I will tell you that I miss these people dearly for reasons that will be purely nostalgic. Because this time in Daddy's life will likely be among the most challenging and the most rewarding.

So, my young man, should you grow up to some day follow in your father's footsteps, I hope you would be able to do it alongside people of similar fiber. I pray that you would show the same commitment they did at the smallest of papers, in the hardest of times.

With love,

Your Daddy

The super delegate

While Daddy's past two weeks revolved around people named Obama and Clinton, Cap'n Quinn was hanging out in Amish country, spreading a little cuteness around.

Daddy wonders whether cuteness is a better campaign tactic than resplendent oratory or a sound health care policy.

Quinn certainly won the Amish vote. Maybe it will work for Barack.

Our little hero is back now, and Daddy wonders whether there are some progressive qualities in air travel, as if time spent at 30,000 feet helps strengthen the legs or locate a center of gravity or mature hair follicles. Because the good Cap'n came back from his week-and-a-half trip to Grandma and Grandpa Smith's house with a nearly-full head of hair and an unbending confidence on two feet.

Mommy left with a baby. She came back with a little boy.

I'm not surprised that she may not notice all this the way I do. These changes happened slowly, before her eyes, at a pace that's impossible to track without the aid of elapsed time.

That time elapsed for Daddy slowly. He missed his best buddy.

But Quinn is back now, and Daddy finds himself hearing a lot these days about ballots and delegates.

And super delegates.

Super, like the little guy running around our house on two feet.

The one with a full head of hair.












Hanging out with Great-grandma Crissman.












Keeping an eye on Mommy.












"Yeah, I'm handsome. What's it to ya?"












Fun with Grandma Smith.












The dirty laundry.

One small step

You have to admire the giraffe.

They're tall, awkward, lanky creatures. Yet within moments of leaving their mother's womb, they're walking on shaky legs.

Sure, such a quick development is a means of surviving in the African wilds. But they make it look so easy.

Cap'n Quinn is many things, but a giraffe isn't one of them. While the little man is making strides on two feet, they're -- as the saying goes -- baby steps. It's a new challenge, and one he's taking on with modest enthusiasm.

As Grandma Siemers says, why move on two feet when you're faster on all fours?

Despite that sound logic, Quinn is making an effort in the mobility category. Mommy and Daddy have been encouraging him to push his fleet of plastic wheeled vehicles around the living room on two feet. He takes about five steps before losing interest, plopping on his diaper-cushioned rear and zooming away on his hands and knees.

He loves to walk, but only for as long as his arms are attached to something, such as the coffee table, Daddy's rocking chair, or Dexie's fur. The second he lets go, the butt hits the floor.

That's OK. There's no hurry here in our suburban jungle.

Our little snowman

We're a little behind the game here, but Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to everybody.

The good Cap'n Quinn had a great time up at Grandma and Grandpa Siemers' house in Minnesota. We played in the snow, met a cat and two kittens all named Darryl and spent time with all of our Minnesota family.

Santa came to Grandma and Grandpa's house, too. Quinn and Cousin Abby left out some milk and cookies, along with a note explaining why Santa needed a quick dairy and sugar fix to keep him going through the night. Dexie the Wonderdog stayed behind in New Mexico, though there is some evidence that she may have been helping Santa's sleigh. She admits nothing.

Grandma and Grandpa's neighbors have a barn cat named Darryl that likes to show up at Grandpa's window several times a day knowing Grandpa will give him milk. Quinn liked to lean against the window and talk to the kitty. He can even say 'kitty' now. One morning, Darryl brought his whole family -- two kittens also named Darryl. They sat outside the window all morning waiting for the buffet to open. Unfortunately for them, Grandpa's restaurant was closed that day.

The good Cap'n Quinn was spoiled heavily, and he got a lot of presents. He was more interested in the Christmas bows and paper, though. We did get to go play in the snow, and Daddy took Quinn for a very slow ride on a sled outside. Grandpa then took Quinn for a ride on his John Deere tractor, which doubles as a snowplow in the winter.

Finally, before we came home, Quinn got to meet his Auntie Tory for the first time. She was impressed, just like everybody else, when Quinn was able to tell her how old he is. He holds up his finger and makes a number one.

The flight to Minnesota worked out nicely. Quinn told everybody on the plane his age, and he waved and smiled and flirted at everybody on board. The trip home wasn't as easy. The flight didn't take off until well after his bed time, but once we got past the air pressure's effect on his ears, Quinn fell asleep and slept until the plane landed.

He was a good boy, which is to be expected. And now, here on New Year's Day, we're looking forward to reporting more new and exciting developments into 2008.











Cousin Abby and Mommy share a birthday.











Quinn is fascinated by Grandpa's Christmas tree.











Daddy, Cousins Abby and Ashley, and Quinn write a Christmas Eve note for Santa.












Quinn's favorite part of opening presents.











Quinn hangs out with Auntie Tara.











Quinn having a talk with his Grandpa Siemers.











Telling Uncle Ken a story.











On his favorite lounge chair.











Playing with Daddy in the snow.











A couple of snow bunnies.











Riding with Grandpa on the tractor.

Daily Quinn? Since when

As the name implies, you must expect that this blog was "suppose" to be daily. Daily as in, everyday. Lord knows our little man does enough in a day to warrant a daily posting. However, it may not be things you'd want to know about specifically. Like, how many poopy diapers he miraculously makes on a daily basis. How many times he trashes the coffee table, daily. How much this little man detroys the living room with millions of toys, daily. You get the gist. It's not very exciting, and very repetitive, and sometimes yucky, ie: poopy diapers.

We figured rather you'd rather have a recap of some of his more memorable moments, and that seems to be what this blog has turned into.

Currently though, for those interested, Cap'n runny nose has a cold....AGAIN. He doesn't seem bothered much by it, except for when mommy comes at him with kleenex in hand to snuff the run-away boogies. And he also turns into a nap monster. "No naps for me mom! I can't seem to breath and suck the binky at the same time" Mommy has known for quite some time that Quinn sleeps like her....VERY lightly. I swear he can hear a pin drop on carpet. Which leaves mommy tip-toeing around just to keep him asleep.

Next week we make another trip to MN to spend Christmas with the Siemers clan. While we are busy preparing and wrapping presents, one thing doesn't escape our thoughts. Last time the Cap'n flew he was 5 months old and not too mobile. Fast forward 6 more months to a Houdini who doesn't like to be held much and wants down to explore. Hmmm. I think we're in for an interesting trip with plenty of snacks to keep him occupied. We may de-plane with a 30 lb baby after all the snacks we're going to feed him to keep him happy for 2 hrs.

We can't wait to get there and plunk him down in some snow. We'll open presents and eat a bunch I'm sure. Abby and Quinn can wreak havoc on Grandma's house and it will be great! I mean, great because we'll all be together.

Party guy

Daddy likes to say that it isn't really a party unless someone's got cake in their hair.

Mission accomplished.

Cap'n Quinn's first birthday bash was a smashing success. Daddy's work friends Mark, Maggie and Ollie came, so did Mommy's work friend Christine and her daughters. Uncle Dwight, Aunt Carmen and Cousin Axel came, too. Grandma and Grandpa Smith were there to spoil him. And though Grandma and Grandpa Siemers couldn't be there, they found their own ways to spoil him.

That's not even counting all of the great stuff he got from all the rest of his family.

It was a good time filled with toys, balloons, and lots of fun people to play with. And strawberry cake, the destruction of which forced Mommy to toss the good Cap'n in the bathtub several hours early.

Mommy plans a mean party. And Quinn, he was the life of it.

The big ONE and some cake

Today our fair Cap'n turned ONE! He's officially a biggy boy.

Mommy and Daddy gave him a cool toy with lots of beads and things to turn and push. Of course the box seems a lot more entertaining for some reason.

He and Mommy enjoyed his day by visiting the zoo. Mommy even caved in and bought him a "kitty" (Black spotted Jaguar) stuffed toy. She just couldn't say no to the grin he got when petting it.

Afterward we had a dinner of pizza and CAKE! Another first for our new biggy boy. He's an obvious pro when it comes to eating cake. He didn't even flinch, just picked up the hunk and proceeded to eat it. It was great fun for all of us. Even Dexie got some nuggets of cake.

Daddy even gave the good Cap'n something else for his birthday. A shiner. It really wasn't daddy's fault. He was being curious and slipped on the bathtub. But he's got a nice red and purple spot under his eye.

That might have been a problem yesterday. But not today.

Today he's a big boy.

A rise and fall

It was inevitable, as our young hero rose to prominence on the eve of his first birthday, that he would one day land on his own two feet.

That day happened last week. The good Cap'n Quinn arose and stood for the first time.

It started in the bathroom. As Daddy filled the tub, the little man's curiosity brought him first to his knees, then to his feet so he could get a closer look at what Daddy was up to.

Later, in the living room, he was using Daddy as a jungle gym and pushed off his chest, rising to his feet. He grinned and chuckled, as if to say, "Look Mommy, no hands."

He was the conquering hero. But like in any epic tale, those who rise to the top inevitably fall.

For Quinn, it happened Thursday at a photo studio.

When he was smaller and less mobile, photographers at the same studio placed him on a stately leather chair for a photo. Quinn just sat there, immobile and smiling. Now, however, he doesn't care to sit still anywhere. This time, as soon as we sat him in the same chair he sprung himself out -- right on top of his head onto a hard tile floor.

Naturally, he screamed, though Daddy suspects it was more out of fright than pain. Mommy cried, too. Daddy shed no tears, but he thinks he may need open heart surgery now.

This tale, however, is no tragedy. The good Cap'n Quinn continues to conquer new heights. And Mommy and Daddy will be there to guide him -- and catch him when he falls.

A horse that isn't a horse -- of course

If you've ever wanted both a pony and a baby boy, then this is the post for you.

Mr. Cold Bug evacuated the premises in time for our little hero to actually get dressed up funny by Mommy and not have it seem weird.

That is to say, it's Halloween.

Quinn dressed up as horsey for his first Halloween. There was no trick-or-treating -- that was way past bedtime -- but he at least got to have fun in his horsey costume, which came thanks to Grandma Smith.

Here's a few pictures from our fun. And if you don't laugh at the video, there's something wrong with you.

So enjoy Quinn's sugar-free Halloween:

The Cap'n is sick

Our little man has been fighting Mr. Cold Bug for over a week now. He's got quite a swing when it comes to Mommy and the nose sucker. He is NO fan of that, and now he equates lying on the changing pad with getting his nose sucked out....poor guy.

At the same time our once voracious eater, now wants nothing to do with food in general. I used to think he was eating too much. What I wouldn't give to have my little hoover back. He also has decided that he can't get enough of Mommy and Daddy and will not take his nap unless we are holding him. While we love the cuddle time, the good Cap'n really isn't getting good sleep which leaves him a cranky mess!

Here's to hoping Mr. Cold Bug goes away and gives us back our generally happy, eating, sleeping on his own baby.

Hot air, pumpkins and The Flash

It's been a while since we last wrote, but there's a simple reason for it. Just try keeping up with this little guy.

For the time being, the good Cap'n Quinn will be known simply as The Flash.

The name should be self-explanatory. At 11 months, our wee hero is lighting quick. Too quick some would say (with "some" meaning Mommy, Daddy and, particularly, Dexie the Wonderdog.)

You may look west at the setting sun, only to feel a breeze rushing past from the east. That breeze would be Quinn, making one of several desperate attempts to grab whatever may be in the dog's food dish.

But there's much more to report than just speed.

Grandma and Grandpa Siemers came to visit for a whole week. The Flash took them both to the Albuquerque International Balloon Fiesta twice. We saw lots of big balloons close-up, like Darth Vader, a big moo cow, and a pair of bees that rose into the air holding hands.

Then, Daddy took The Flash to a nearby pumpkin patch because Mommy wanted some pictures there. With the help of Grandma and Grandpa, we got a few nice photos.

Grandma and Grandpa may be on their way back to Minnesota now, but they didn't leave without teaching The Flash a few things. For starters, he can now clap his hands together.

He does that a lot these days. That is, when he's not breaking land-speed records.

Here's a bunch of pictures from an eventful few weeks: