Pete FourWinds Photography's blog: "My rants..."

Yesterday would have been Ceilidh's third birthday. She died sometime overnight between the 4th and 5th of December, 2006, and we found out about her death during a routine ultrasound on the morning of the 5th. It was marginally sunny when we arrived, but snowing when we left. Some people might think the snowfall after hearing about our daughter's death was a bit like adding insult to injury, but Jen and I know differently. We love snow, and to us, the snowfall on that morning was Ceilidh's way of brightening an otherwise sad day for us...she was "decorating" Mommy and Daddy's life in her own way.

We took that night to absorb the news that we'd lost our little girl, and to make the inevitable and heartbreaking phone calls to family. The next evening we were admitted to Women and Infants' Hospital in Providence RI, to induce labor. Jen was then in labor for the better part of four days, and on the 9th, Ceilidh's tiny little body entered this world.

Now, yesterday on her third birthday, we had more snow...the first significant snow of the season for our area. Looking at the weather from a practical viewpoint, it was raw, and the snow was wet and sticky. Great snowball snow, but miserable for just about anything else. On Ceilidh's birthday, we can't look at it practically. To us, just having snow on this day, ANY kind of snow, means that Ceilidh is watching over us and doing her part to make it a better day for us.

We did have a dusting a few days ago, and we took Connor out in it to play, but it was JUST a dusting and frozen by the time we got outside, so we really can't count it as Connor's first real snow playtime. The first chance he's ever had to really have fun in the snow happened on his sister's birthday, and that made yesterday even better than the snow alone does!

It seems every year one thing or another happens on December 9th to ease the pain and help get us through the day. This year it was brother and sister, in a sense playing together in the snow for the first time. I've never been prouder to be a dad, and I'm just as proud of both of my children.

Elsie, our dog, joined in on the fun, because it was intended to be her morning walk anyway. Watching her run around like a maniac while Connor laughed just as maniacally made the whole dreary, wet, cold morning just a little bit magical. Normally Elsie is like a frightened little neurotic Pomeranian in a 62 pound Ibizan Hound body, so seeing her racing around, happy as could be, chasing Ceilidh while Connor eggs her on...I couldn't imagine a better way to start what should be a very sad day for me and Jen.

I imagine many parents who lose a baby (or any child, regardless of age) DO get very sad around their child's birthday, especially if the date of the child's death is so close to his or her birthday. For us, there will always be a touch of sadness, but we believe Ceilidh makes an effort every day to make sure our sadness is tempered...I'll go so far as to bet we could prove it if you're willing to look at things through our eyes. It just so happens that yesterday, on her birthday, her effort was obvious. And the effect is far-reaching and prieless.

Mommy and Daddy love you Ceilidh. Happy Birthday!

So, I was doing "airplane" with my four-month-old son, and I didn't realize he'd just eaten. You parents out there can see where this is going, but for the benefit of non-parents, read on. As I said, I was doing "airplane" with him, and we were on the futon in our library. He loves airplane, but this one turned out WAY bad. You know those moments where everything suddenly seems to run in super slow motion? This was one of them. I was on my back on the futon, holding him above my face, when all of a sudden I see (in super slow motion, of course), a thick line of baby vomit seemingly inching its way out of his mouth toward mine. In reality, everything was NOT in super slow motion, so naturally I couldn't get out of the way fast enough. Fortunately I had my mouth closed (what a horror show THAT would've been), but it was all over my chin, my chest (a shirt might've protected me some), and the futon. The boy escaped unscathed. The worst part of this whole experience? I couldn't stop laughing...neither could my wife.

I love tits and ass and general nakedness as much as the next person, but here's something I really don't get. Why is it that there are so many people (both men and women, and certainly not all, but it seems much more prevalent among women) that have no issues with posting the most provocative photos of themselves, then get all pissy if you rate it, comment on it, or even look at it...and heaven forbid if you dare to ask to see the ones that they're NOT showing to everyone. Now, don't get me wrong. I didn't make the mistake of asking to see some random woman's private photos only to be made to look foolish for asking. Quite the contrary, I generally have enough respect, both for others and myself, to get to know someone a little before taking that so-called next step. I'm also not a big supporter of the "she was asking for it..." defense either. But c'mon folks. If you DO post suggestive photos and someone DOES ask to see your private ones, is it really necessary to fly into a rage and act all shocked that someone would dare to ask? It's perfectly ok to refuse someone access, but why turn into a raving maniac just because someone had the audacity to like what he/she saw and wanted to see a little more? I would assume we're all adults here...but I think some people might consider acting a little more like it. Oh, and learn to take a compliment... On the other hand, if you are the one looking at someone's photos and you decide to ask to see private, NSFW, or other less-than-public photos, do yourself (and everyone else) a favor and ask with a little respect. It goes a long way.