"What Have We Done?"

Tuesday evening brought with it a typical warm and humid Nebraska summer evening. As the sun began to sink in the western sky, I found myself in the middle of what has come to be called Ground Zero. Ground Zero sits on the western edge of an acreage owned by my close high school friend, Chris Northup, and it is the area where we shoot our fireworks show during our annual July 3rd bash. Chris and I, along with a group of friends, had just finished building several sets of mortar racks in preparation for this years' festivities. The cold beer we each cradled in our hands tasted especially good on this evening, and as we watched the test firing of a few shells, my mind began to wonder back to where this entire fascination with pyrotechnics began. The story may surprise you....

It all goes back nearly twenty-five years ago, when I was but a wee li'l laddy. I was eleven years old and had taken on the responsibility of a daily paper route. Somewhere along the lines, I managed to befriend the neighborhood trouble maker, who often walked with me in the afternoon as I delivered papers. It came to pass one day that we found ourselves with a book of matches that just screamed to be played with and misused by a couple of juveniles such as ourselves. I thought it would be great fun to set fire to a pile of dead leaves which had collected next to a curb along my route. I proceeded to do just that, and the fire eventually spread over the curb and began to burn some bushes in the yard of one my paper customers. It became too big for me to get under control, so I bolted. As I continued my route, I heard the fire engine sirens approaching the area and hoped they wouldn't find me. But, alas! It wasn't long before I found myself in the back of a police cruiser bound for home to face my parents.

Well, I made it through that troubling life episode, but I never really lost the fascination with fire. Said fascination eventually ignited (Ha! Get it? Ignited? Geez, I crack myself up....I'll be here all night, people!) the desire to dabble in the fireworks industry, and I followed that desire when I teamed up with a couple of high-school friends to begin doing small shows for family and friends on the 4th of July. CON Fireworks was born in 1988, and while lots of people cursed us for the amount of time and money we spent on these shows, we loved putting our creative minds to use and constantly striving for something bigger and better. Those were fantastic days, but even CON eventually came to an end as our lives took different paths and higher priorities. I have done some work with the professional pyrotechnics since the days of CON, but nothing to really brag about. Nevertheless, my curiosity and fascination with the fireworks world has never subsided.

Back to Ground Zero. Chris and I have come to live for this week each year, and have taken our pyro desires to another level. We each have our state and federal explosives permits, and have begun to lay the groundwork for building our pyrotechnic business. Tomorrow night will be our first official, professional show, which we are firing for a 50th birthday celebration. It'll be a small one, relatively speaking, but every bit as exciting. As the test-fires subsided on Tuesday evening, and we stood looking at the racks of mortars we had just finished building, Chris looked at me, and simply asked, "What have we done?" All I could do was finish my beer, shake my head, and reply, "I don't know yet. I just don't know yet."

On a side note, I am officially on vacation for the week and hope to blog soon about all the exciting plans for the week. That said, if I don't make it back before the 4th, I wish all of you a very happy, safe, and wonderful Independence Day celebration!

Peace.

Instinct vs. Expert

It's been awhile since I had a chance to sit down at the computer and relay life experiences. Mandi and I are on the heels of an exhausting week with our youngest daughter, as she decided the day after Father's Day that sleep just wasn't a big priority. She had always slept very well, both at nap time and at night, so this sudden change was both confusing for us, as well as extremely frustrating. One of the hardest parts of parenting, I have found, is not knowing how to best comfort a child who can't put into words just what has him/her upset. Korynne began screaming at the top of her lungs when we would so much as approach her crib to lay her down, and we were/are at a loss as to explain why. She would awaken at 4 or 5 in the morning and refuse to go back to sleep without lots of comforting and consoling. It wasn't even so much that she was simply awake, although that in itself would have presented a big enough issue. Rather, she would scream in what seemed like sheer terror, thus waking the rest of the family and causing some serious disruption in our home. This presented a myriad of problems including two more tired and irritable children, and exhausted parents who were at a loss to solve the problem.

We spent hours researching the problem, talking to our pediatrician and even our chiropractor, and seeking advice and opinions from other parents and child caretakers. At the peak of our frustration/exhaustion, Mandi finally blurted the aged but true line, "opinions are like assholes. Everybody has one." She could not have been more correct, and her humor provided a small but much needed relief! While opinions varied widely on the subject, we found some comfort in one common thread - we were not alone. It seems this kind of behavior is pretty common with kids the same age as Korynne, and such a realization gave us at least some confidence that we would eventually get through the phase.

As I alluded to, we found a plethora of different opinions on how to help our little Korynne through this difficult phase. But all of the advice seemed to point in one general direction, that being the idea of "tough love." We were not supposed to cater to her incessant crying and screaming, but instead let her "cry it out." Various methods were suggested, from not giving her any attention at all, to going into her room at various increments in order that she would not feel abandoned. The theory behind this "tough love" was/is the overall avoidance of developing habit-forming rituals before sleeping time. For example, it would have been easy to just pick Korynne up and rock her to sleep, but the school of thought is that she would then become dependant on such a practice, and wouldn't have the ability to fall asleep on her own. Taking Korynne into bed with us in order to provide some level of comfort was met with much the same resistance from the "experts."

The problem, in our case, was the length of Korynne's crying/screaming fits. We were not talking about ten or fifteen minutes, or even a half hour. At one point, she fought, kicked, screamed, and tried to climb out of her crib for nearly three hours while we followed the "tough love" advice. To both Mandi and I, that seemed quite excessive. How are we to allow our child, who is obviously very bothered by something, to go on for such an extended period of time and in such a fit of rage? That goes against every bit of natural parental instinct, and even overall human instinct. We wouldn't have thought twice about allowing our other children, or even adult friends, to cry for such an extended period of time without offering some sort of comfort. It's just not natural. Whatever it was that was bothering Korynne was certainly not going to go away because we allowed her to "cry it out." It boils down to common logic and just being human.

A few evenings ago, I was dumping my thoughts, concerns, and frustrations on a good friend and coworker who has a one-year-old as well. Jen is the type of person who follows her natural instincts better than anyone I know, and is not afraid of what the "experts" tell her could be potential fallout from her actions. She respects what others have to say and the opinions they offer, but is certainly more inclined to do what comes naturally as a human being and a Mom. After our discussion, she stumbled on an article by Peggy O'Mara, who publishes and edits Mother Magazine and has written several books and articles on mothering. The article, A Quiet Place, discusses and dispels many of the "tough love" ideas, and encourages parents to follow their natural, human, and even ancestral instincts. It was a relieving and refreshing read, and the advice O'Mara gives is so much more down-to-earth than what we were given from the doc's office and the online experts.

In the end, and I suppose I had better wrap up this novel, Korynne seems to be doing much better. She took her usual two naps yesterday without incident, and she went to sleep last night without any problems. She even slept until 8:00 this morning! She is happily napping again now, and while I don't want to jinx anything, she seems to have moved past whatever it was that was bothering her. Another phase come and gone, and yet another parental learning experience. Now, where's my pillow???

On Being Daddy

The alarm clock screamed at me this last Sunday morning at it's usual early hour, signaling the time had come for me to drag my rear end out of bed. As per usual, I had tempted fate by pressing the snooze just a few times in the hopes of squeezing in a few more winks and a shower before the kids awoke and began asking for breakfast. I finally forced myself off the pillow, and as I enjoyed the calm awakening effect of the warm shower, I found myself reflecting on fatherhood and what it means to me. Why am I being honored today? Do I really deserve to be honored? Am I the kind of amazing father my Dad was to me, and am I successfully following in his footsteps? Questions such as these beg to be answered daily as I journey through fatherhood, but seem even more prevalent on Father's Day.

During a similar conversation with my two brothers a couple of months ago, my youngest brother, who is the father of three, stated, "Parenthood is so...everything." I readily agreed. What he was trying to express was how impossible it is wrap the brain around a specific and understandable definition of parenthood. There really is no way to put into words what it means to be a father and/or parent, and any attempt to do so serves only to diminish the honor. How can I explain the goosebumps I get when my two-year-old simply says, "Daddy?" How can I explain how precious the moment is when my one-year-old crawls towards me after I walk through the door, just as fast as her little hands and knees can take her? How can I explain the peaceful feeling of contentment as I sit next to my eight-year-old son and discuss life while the fish play with our baited lines? When the kids start peppering me with question after question after question while I'm trying hard to stay focused on some task, and I find myself becoming annoyed or even irritated, yet all the while knowing full well how much I will miss those inquisitions when they are no longer - what words exist to properly explain such a feeling?

And then there is the other end of the spectrum. Moments of such extreme frustration and pure defeat that I begin to question whether or not I am really cut out for this Dad thing. I think every parent questions themselves and their decisions at some point, but there are times when it seems as the world is spinning out of control and all the parental authority in the world won't make it stop. Those times when all I can do is fall to my knees, bury my head in my hands, and cry. Yet even during these darkest moments, when I struggle to find the strength to go on, there is a small part of my deep subconscious telling me, "this is the greatest thing I've ever been a part of, and the greatest thing I will ever be a part of, and I know it." And that's when I say a little prayer and ask God for a little dose of divine encouragement/strength, pull out a few family pictures and stroll down memory lane, and begin to recall just what makes fatherhood the best thing that ever happened to me. I can't put it into words. I can't explain it. All I can do is live it.

As I enjoyed Sunday morning breakfast with the kids (Mandi was taking a shower), I browsed through the paper and landed on a column by Leonard Pitts, Jr., who writes for the Miami Herald. Pitts argues the most important element of fatherhood is spending quality time with one's child. One line in particular, though, really struck me. Pitts writes,

"One of the hardest truths of parenthood is that you never know how well you've done till it's too late to do anything about it. When that child who once clung to your shin becomes a man looking you in the eye, you realize with an abruptness that the time for molding personality and imparting life wisdom has passed." (Follow this link to Pitts' column, if you wish.)

I looked up from my paper and took a moment to observe each one of my kids and their beauty, and I praised God for allowing me to experience this unexplainable phenomenon called Fatherhood. I then set the paper down and basked in the glory of Fatherhood. Each of my kids presented me with their handmade cards, gave me lots of hugs, kisses, and smiles, and made me realize just how blessed I really am to have been given this opportunity. I'll be damned if I'm going to waste it.

Tactical Dispatch Training

Yesterday marked the end of four long days of training which myself and four of my coworkers took part in. The training was hosted by the Fremont Police Department, and was titled "Tactical Dispatch." It was a fantastic learning experience, and one which I won't soon forget. The course was taught by Tammy Smith of Mountain View, California. Tammy has been serving the Mountain View Police Department as a dispatcher for nearly fifteen years, and was a driving force behind establishing the tactical dispatch program in Mountain View. She now teaches all over the country, and I feel blessed to have had the opportunity to learn from her.

So, what is tactical dispatch? Basically, it's the idea of mobilizing a team of dispatchers to a command post during a critical incident. For instance, in a hostage situation where the SWAT team has been called upon to respond, the tactical dispatch team would respond as well in an effort to provide on-scene dispatching, resources, and log-keeping. The idea has been around for many years, but has just recently begun to explode as more and more police agencies are realizing how much of an enhancement tactical dispatch can be during a critical incident.

As per usual, the first day was spent soaking in lots of information, taking notes, and watching/dissecting videos of past critical incidents. The next two days were spent conducting table-top exercises and practicing/role playing in an effort to familiarize us with the setting of a command post as it relates to tactical dispatching. The fourth and final day was a culmination of all we had practiced, and was easily the most in-depth and hands on of any training in which I've participated. The Fremont SWAT team agreed to assemble and join us, and they used the day as a training exercise for themselves. It was incredibly beneficial for both the team, and for those of us in the class.

Tammy began the day by splitting the class into two groups. The first group played the role of the tactical dispatch team, while the second group played the roles of the bad guys and the hostages. Our first incident was staged at an old row of metal storage buildings, and began when a group of disgruntled employees finally snapped, taking several hostages at gunpoint. The SWAT team was called in, and my role in this incident was as a member of the dispatch team. Along with my team members, I began assembling the command post and gathering data/intelligence on the situation. Once the SWAT team arrived, I helped to brief the commander on the situation, and provided him with the information we had collected to that point. What followed was about a two-hour process which included hostage negotiations, deployment of the SWAT team to their respective positions (entry team, snipers, etc.), and a constant effort to collect more intelligence and keep track of times. Once the decision was made to breech the facility, the SWAT team used their tactics and the bad guys were taken into custody.

The second incident was a family reunion gone bad in which the wife was cheating on the husband, and decided to bring her "boyfriend" to the reunion. The husband and his friend showed up with the intentions of doing harm to the boyfriend. My role was that of the husband's friend, and both he and I were armed with .357 magnum revolvers. We beat the tar out of the boyfriend and held most everyone else at the reunion hostage, while we continued to drink and beat up on the boyfriend. Eventually, the SWAT team made the decision to breech the structure and as they made their approach, the wife ran screaming into the front yard with the husband chasing her and waving his gun. A shouting match followed, but the husband was soon shot by a member of the SWAT team. Here's where things became rather interesting from my perspective.

Having no idea that the SWAT team had descended on the house, I looked out the front door to see the husband laying in the front yard. I stepped out to check on him, and when I looked to my right, I found myself staring down the business end of a high-powered rifle held by one of the SWAT members. Gulp! I briefly put my hands in the air, then quickly retreated back inside the house. I hid in a bedroom closet and listened as the team made entry and began clearing the house one room at a time. When they entered the room I was in, I made the decision not to raise my gun in the hopes they would tackle me, restrain me, and escort me out of the house having not been shot. Instead, the first team member came around the corner and immediately "shot" me, rendering me a useless blob of human flesh. Doh! So much for my hopes of being roughed up a bit. Interestingly enough, I had the opportunity to speak with the team member who "shot" me, and he advised that his actions were what those in the field term a "questionable shoot." The question was whether he had reason to shoot me, since I had not pointed my gun. I told him that I didn't blame him, but that didn't seem to comfort him much as he was obviously concerned over his decision.

Of course, each incident ended much faster than it probably would have had it been the real thing, and no hostages or police officers were hurt, which may or may not have been the case in an actual event. Regardless, the entire day was a blast as we were exposed to several elements of police tactics which we do not normally have the privilege of experiencing. I am looking forward to taking what I have learned and applying to my department in Lincoln. Our police department does not use tactical dispatchers, so it will be a matter of "selling" the idea to our commander. I have high hopes that we can accomplish the task.

Mandi's Guest Blog: THOUGHTS on THIRTY!

Goals. Goals are good. Goals keep us focused, and also give us opportunity for reflection down the road. I’ve been doing a lot of reflecting recently, as I’ve quickly approached the big 3-0 milestone birthday. My wonderful husband has been so kind to share some blog space with me to share some of this reflection. (Little did he know I’d be blogging a novel :) - I’ve always thought I’d love to have a blog myself, but can’t seem to find the time.)

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a nanny when I grew up. So, obviously I never reached that goal, but I became something that is a MUCH bigger job! At the tender age of 21 when, for the first time, I was referred to as someone’s “Mommy”, I had no idea what kind of responsibility I was taking on, how my life would change, nor did I have any idea that when I turned 30, I would be madly in love with 3 gorgeous children and would give up my life at the drop of a dime for each one of them. Motherhood for me did not begin with ideal circumstances, but it didn’t take me long to realize that it was God’s wake-up call to change the direction my life was taking, and that Kaedyn, and now the girls, are on loan to this world to make it a better place, and to be an amazing blessing! I may be biased, but I definitely think they're already beginning to fulfill that purpose! What an honor it is that God chose little ol' me to be Mommy to Kaedyn, Madilyn, and Korynne. I love you, my honeys!

Another goal/dream of mine, like most girls/young women: ahhh, falling in love, Prince Charming riding in on his white horse to rescue you, sweep you off your feet, making you a Princess in a big beautiful wedding, living happily ever after in your big castle… Yes, ladies, you know what I’m talking about :). I remember my 23rd birthday in 2000, I was boating with my parents, telling them about how some guy I’d recently met through mutual friends and partied with the night before, thought it would be a good idea for us to get married that day but he never called that morning. So I thought it was yet another relationship off to a bad start :). But it wasn’t a bad start. It was a start to the best thing that ever happened to me. Little did I know, 2 years later I would be a princess in a big beautiful wedding and become Mrs. Kevin Campbell. He may not have rode in on a white horse, his name wasn’t Prince Charming, but he certainly did rescue me (through a year of diligent chiseling at the wall I’d built around my heart), and he certainly continues to sweep me off my feet 5 years later! Thanks to Kevin's hard work supporting this family, we’ve decided to put on hold our goal of being in a nice 4-bedroom house with a garage and a basement, in exchange for my leaving the full-time business world and raising our children, witnessing each of their firsts and stages of life, and trying to be the best wife I can be. I know we get into the rut of the day-to-day routine, and quite often I feel I fall short of being the Mrs. Wonderful he deserves, but he continues to love me unconditionally, flaws and all :). We’re moving past the baby-bearing phase of life (getting over that: there’s another entire page of thoughts to blog about :) and into the young-family phase. As Kevin says, one step closer to retiring when we have all the time in the world to spend with each other traveling the world! Life is going by at lightning speed so I don't want to rush it, but it is nice to know that someday, we will have that time together. Kevin, I love you so much, I’m proud to be your HPPY WFE, I love the way you love me, thank you for saving my life!

Most people dread turning 30, and are quick to tell others how dreadful it is. I can honestly say, I’m excited to be turning 30. I’m guessing that most people’s dread has to do with the fact that the older we get, the more downhill our bodies go, and I would never have imagined that I would be an exception to this! Yes, after 4 years of getting comfortable in married life, and 2 babies within 2 years, my body had gone downhill fast! So October 21st of last year, I finally decided to buckle down and do something about it! Now 8 months later, thanks to the encouragement of my loving husband and other family members, Weight Watchers, and Leslie Sansone’s 3-mile Walk Away the Pounds dvd, I’m 45 pounds lighter, looking and feeling better than I have in many, many years! When I joined WW, I wanted to be happier when I looked in the mirror, but I had no clue that the biggest transformation would happen on the inside! In addition to continuing to strive for a deeper faith walk with God, taking care of myself physically has given me more energy to take on life head-on, and I’ve been sucked out of the pit of depression and low self-esteem that being overweight can cause. With my new body, a renewed spirit, and a fresh new hair style… Another 30 years?… Bring it on!!

As far as the big day itself, when I’ll be celebrating 3 decades; 30 years; 360 months; 1,560 weeks; 10,950 days; 262,800 hours… okay, okay, that’s enough of that!! I started to feel old for a minute there! Every year, we have a fun get-together with family and friends to celebrate the 4th of July; soaking in the summer sun, eating lots of yummy food, watching a great fireworks show (sometimes I’m having so much fun & getting caught up in the day’s festivities that I almost forget it’s my birthday :). I’m not really much of a party animal anymore (that certainly has changed over the last few years!), so I’m looking forward to spending the Independence Day celebration the same way as in the past, and hoping to just have a fun evening out with some close friends if we can coordinate everyone’s schedules!

In conclusion (sigh… yes, it’s almost over :) - thanks for hanging in there with me!), I realize this reflection has been focused more on the past 8 years rather than all 30, but there are so many memories: ones that make me smile, ones that make me cry, loved ones come and gone, but all in all, I’d say I’ve had a pretty darn good life so far. A life that, like most people, is taken for granted. Thanks to each of you, my loved ones, who have been a part of it. Mom & Dad, Sisters & Brother, 3 greatest nephews & 3 greatest nieces in the world, In-Laws (I lucked out in that department :), Friends old and new, Extended family… I could go on & on! Even if I didn’t write specifically about you, please know I’m thinking of you, and grateful for your specific role in my past 30 years. There are so many more thoughts that I wanted to include here about other areas of my life, like my friendships, my career, my MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group that I LOVE being involved in with; stories and thoughts about my family that I could write so much about, but for the sake of space and respect for the time of the readers, I’ll save those things for future blogs, if Kevin ever lets me have space on his again, or if I get around to setting up my own. :) (Yes, I use smileys a LOT). I look forward to making many more memories with you! Here’s a toast to the past 30 years, and to the rest of my life!

With Much Love, MANDI

A "Weighty" Topic

It's been awhile since I posted anything about my battle of the bulge, and since I discovered something this week about how my body operates, I thought it a good time to share. You've probably heard it said once or twice from some knowledgeable folks in the healthy-living arena that you have to give your body time to drop the weight, since you certainly didn't gain the weight in a short period of time. You know, the old thought; "you can't expect to lose it all in a week. You didn't gain it all in a week!" Or something along those lines. I have discovered the opposite is actually true, at least to a point.

Allow me to take you back to Memorial Day Eve, which would have been last Sunday. My family attended an annual BBQ hosted by some close friends, and I found myself putting down a few barley sodas. It had been a long time since I had enjoyed a good beer, so I allowed myself to not worry too much about the potential damage to my weight loss efforts. Then the next day, my side of the fam met for a big Memorial Day brunch including omelets, blueberry pancakes, fresh fruit, and juices. It was fantastic! I was soon off to work for the day, where my coworkers and I would eventually feast on a BBQ potluck which we had thought would help ease the disgruntlement of having to work on a holiday. Lots of good times, and lots of good food.

When I stepped on the scale Tuesday morning, I had gained almost 9 pounds!! It only took me three days to reverse what normally takes me nearly three weeks to achieve. I was shocked, needless to say. I began practicing what I preach, though, and moved on. I didn't dwell on the setback, but kept working hard to continue the changes I had set forth for myself months ago. Believe it or not, I actually registered a 1.5-pound loss when I weighed in yesterday. Now, I don't have any idea what the biological explanation is behind such a big fluctuation, and frankly, I don't care. It probably has something to do with the beer, water retention, yada yada yada. I'm just happy to report that I was able to overcome the not-so-great eating decisions from the weekend, and am now at a grand weight-loss total of 75 pounds!

I haven't heard much lately from those of you who have been battling the bulge, as well. Please feel free to share your latest achievements, successes, and/or setbacks!!

Oh, and feel free now to take a moment and laugh yourself to tears or otherwise admire the cleverness of the title to this post. I know, I'm just a laugh a minute, ay? I'll be here all night....