Tadpole in a jar

Alone...upon the stage...we find Breanna...

Piano as a weapon...

She slays hundreds...

Madison...not alone...but on a stage...

Thousands are swoon...

Mary...hundreds of miles she travels...
Awesome sister is she...

Madison...still dancing days after recital...

Never stop will she...

Sun Seekers...on safari are they...

Breanna...

Un-touched by the raging fountain is she...

Kids...approaching street...

Anyone seen their parents?

Sun seekers...

Still searching for clues are they...

Breanna...finally a clue!

I saw a lion...

he was standing alone...

Spring Music Concert

This evening, North American Martyrs had their Spring Music Concert...the first of its kind in a number of years :)

Breanna's 5th grade class played a number of tunes on their recorders (Dad, I'm sure you will appreciate that:)

" I'm sorry Mrs. Dodson...but you're blocking my daughter..."
Madison's 6th grade class sang a number of popular tunes: one from the musical Grease, followed by the hand-clapping and body-swaying of "Lean On Me" :)

She definitely stands out in her yellow!

Madison with her friends Amanda (L) and Ashtyn (Center)

Striking poses at home...thank you Mary for teaching them such important skills :)

Okay...probably can't blame Mary on this one :)

Two more performances yet to go this week with Breanna playing piano at the school talent show on Friday, followed up by Madison's 3 ballet recitals this weekend...whew!

Days of May

Breanna...always making faces :)

Father - Daughter Retreat at Christ the King Motherhouse

Me and Breanna eating lunch by the fire-pit

Making pillows


Spring Band Concert - Pius X High School

Breanna (Top Left) in the 5th grade band

Madison in the Advanced Band

Madison's Madagascar research project

Such wonderful girls...think I'll quit my job and become a full-time parent :)

Marathon

No...I didn't run the Lincoln Marathon this year...but 6,000 other people did.

It's been probably well over 6 years since I last ran it...I used to blame it on school...and lack of time. Still, I was training this year with the intent of signing up. Chris Beardslee (below) and I had been putting in long runs for a number of Saturdays since January...but my foot had other plans.

So instead...I found myself out on the corner of 48th & Calvert on Sunday morning...right where Uncle John would be waiting... camera in hand...cheering on the brave souls who dedicated so much time and energy to prove the limits of the human body.

I left afterwards with a sadness...a sadness knowing that I'd never see John at that corner again, should I ever return to marathoning. A sadness that we'd never make some ridiculous journey to some small forgotten rural town for a race down a gravel road just to get an easy age-group award. A sadness that we'd never again spend pre-race time in his old Regal trying to catch a few zzz's before the starting gun went off.

I took one last look around before I walked away...and saw shadows stretching westward on the pavement. I heard the cheering...and then the feet pounding on the pavement.

And then it struck me: nah, he'll always be at this corner.