Today Jeannie, Jessica and Martin were at the Kansas City zoo on a Girl Scout outing. Jessica, with her friends, was all over the place playing, running, checking out the animals, etc. Then out of the blue she runs back over to Jeannie, throws her arms around her and proceeds to be quite clingy. When Jeannie asked her if everything was alright, this was her response:

"Mommy, do you ever get that feeling like you miss someone really bad even though they're right there with you?"

One of our favored events of the year is the Lawrence Annual Daddy Daughter Date Night. Probably one of Lawrence's unintentionally best kept secrets, about 150 dads and their daughters gather at the Douglas County Fairgrounds for an evening of dancing -- at least, that's what we're going to say we were doing out there on the dance floor.

Every year sports a different "theme". Jessica and I have attended long enough to go through the 1950s theme, a Camelot theme, and this year a Mexican Fiesta theme. ...However, since I wanted to actually be able to keep this photo around for awhile, I had to decline wearing the 10-gallon sombrero for the photo.

We actually got to the dance 30 minutes early by mistake, so we took a slight detour and treated the girls to a mocha at Z's Espresso, just up the street.

Promptly at 6:30pm, the fun began. Dinner catered by Chipotle, a live DJ, and a Zoomba instructor leading the masses through a horribly awkward dance routine... what more could one ask for? The girls adamantly dismissed Craig and I on more than one occasion when they proclaimed, "Old guys need to go sit down for this song!"

And while this is high on the list of the dorkiest things I take part in, it's a wonderful evening, truth be told. 100+ dads on a dance floor -- dads who on any other day would be self-conscious and reserved -- working up a sweat trying to keep up with their daughters, just trying to hang on until the next slow song when we can get a breath. Very, very cool.

Here we are, almost at the end of July, which means August, which means just two more weeks until Summer is essentially over and the school year begins again. I know the warmer months generally move faster than their colder counterparts, but this summer has broken all the records in that area. Watching Jessica spin in the swing tied to the giant oak tree in our front yard only served as a reminder of just how quickly it all flies by.

I have resigned myself to the fact that I will never be able to keep this up to date with all of the major events that take place in our family. I was able to come closer to that goal when the kids were younger and fewer in number. Not now. But I can't let one particular event go unchronicled -- Logann's first date. I'll spare the details in favor of staying on Logann's good side. Logann and Hannah went on a double-date with Kaysia and Tucker last weekend. I think their expressions in the photo tell a better story than I could with words:

And lastly, where would I be without my sweetheart? Well, I'd be in a world with a little less sarcasm and sass, but who needs that? Jeannie has enjoyed the summer immensely, from what I can tell. But as we inch closer to August, I can see classroom preparation, lesson plans and thoughts of "how do I keep these kids awake and semi-interested" occupy her mind more and more lately. We find that oftentimes, the best method for staying in the present is a deck of cards, good music, and a heavy dose of sarcasm and innuendo. ...and perhaps a martini or two.

About a billion other things happened since the last time I wrote, including a short but sweet visit from Jeannie's sister Kathy, and Up a Creek's first big float weekend of the summer (finally). The above, however, seem to rise to the top of the list... at least for now.

So the girls are away on a cruise this week while the guys are here at home eating junk food, belching and making girl jokes (according to Martin). Occasionally, I receive a text message from Jeannie with a photo of what they're doing at the moment.  In the gallery you'll see everything I've received so far.  Just click on the photo below. Enjoy.

Once a year, Lawrence hosts a Daddy-Daughter Date Night for dads and their girls ages 6-12. This year's theme was Camelot. As such, last night one hundred princesses and their proud fathers stormed the castle (read: Douglas County Fairgrounds) and enjoyed an evening of dancing.

With several of her close friends there, Jessica spent most of the evening spinning and learning some new dance steps with her friend Laurel, and part of the evening dancing with Dad. She and Laurel together were adorable as they spun in circles, hand-in-hand until they almost fell down.

The video below is just a short glimpse of the evening, which has quickly become one of my favorite days of the year.

There are also photos from this event available in the Photo Gallery.

Last weekend was Jessica's long-awaited birthday, and with it, her birthday party. She and three close friends from school (along with her brother Martin, Jeannie and me) took up residence at a hotel in Topeka which boasted an indoor swimming pool and 3-story water slide.

In addition to the questionable decision Jeannie and I made to put ourselves in a hotel room with four first-grade girls, we also thought it wise to take them all to dinner that evening. They covered the spectrum of gorging on ice cream and cheeseburgers to falling asleep at the table.

At any rate, they had a blast and the following morning Jessica pointed out to me that yes, it's true -- in just three years she'll be ten years old. ...Sure glad that the novelty of being seven didn't tarnish too quickly.

More photos of Jessica's birthday party are in the gallery.

As a temporary break from worrying about the impending root canal, Saturday night marked a very important event for Jessica and for me -- the annual Lawrence Daddy / Daughter Date Night. Last year Jess was too young to attend (ages 6-12 only), so this year she was on pins and needles about going.

It was a 1950s theme this year, and seeing as I am somewhat thematically-challenged, my only solution to this problem was to pull out the old motorcycle jacket and Chuck Taylors. Jess fit the part with her makeshift 50s-era attire, down to the ribbon in her hair. Anyway, the event was a blast -- one that will no doubt christen our calendar about this time next year. A few photos from Saturday are in the usual place.

This week has been full of chaos -- some of it planned, and some surprises. Some if it good, and some not so good. For example:

• Jeannie officially landed her teaching contract for next semester (good)

• I spent three solid days in training on Microsoft Reporting Services (not so good)

• We learned that Martin's greatest wish for Christmas is a red stapler (good -- weird, but good)

• Andrew is having a sleepover with two friends tonight (...we'll judge this one in the morning)

• The kids received flu shots (horrific gnashing of teeth)

Okay, let's stop and focus on that last one for a moment -- especially since without it I would likely not have found the motivation to write today. ...Flu shots. I remember them as a child. I say that because since the age at which it became my decision I have "decided" not to partake in this Fall tradition any longer. And I'm okay with that. Getting the flu sucks, I'll admit, but I just happen to be one of those people who doesn't like needles very much, and I consider myself virtually immune to the flu. At least, that's my plan.

However, the kids seem to contract the flu every time we neglect to make sure they've had their seasonal vaccine. As a result, once every year we we try to balance the delicate question: "How far in advance should we tell them they're getting a shot?" There is no good answer to that question, as I was recently reminded. Let me walk you through my Thursday afternoon.

3:00pm, I surprise the kids by picking them up from school and daycare. Jessica, in particular, is gleeful at this unexpected change of plans. "Daddeeeeeee!" (giddy excitement) We walk hand in hand to the van, climb inside and start driving toward home. "Where are we going, Daddy?" (smiling and content) I explain that we're headed home, then picking up Martin, then going up to meet Mommy at the high school. "Yipee! I like Mommy's work. What are we doing at Mommy's work?" (this is fun!) "Getting flu shots," I say. ...(screeching halt; one-hundred eighty degree turn; next stop: depths of despair).

Jessica is a very sweet girl and has a wonderful laugh. She also has the ability to wind up to a good wailing cry much like the KGB sirens in all those cold-war movies from the eighties. And so it began: the fear. After several failed attempts to calm her nerves while driving, I resigned to the fact that she was going to continue to cry all the way to our feared destination. Attempting to dilute the sound of her crying with the radio only resulted in her turning up her own volume and proving that she would not go quietly into the night.

We survive picking up Martin and the remaining drive to Jeannie's school. Jeannie meets us just inside the doors and Jessica runs to her, throwing her arms around her neck with the embrace you would expect to see from a hostage re-united with long-lost family. Much to her dismay, Mommy had even less tolerance for the tears than did Daddy. At this point we began "the long walk" (this part happened in slow-motion, by the way. --remember the movie "Dead Man Walking"? It was kind of like that.)

We arrive at the nurse's office where two "nice ladies" are waiting with smiles and sharp needles. Jess is obviously distressed, and they attempt to diffuse the issue by suggesting that Jessica go last, and only after she watches Mommy get a shot so she can see that it's "no big deal". ...They don't know Jessica. We blew straight past "no big deal" and we were already quite comfortable in the land of "big hairy freakin' deal". So, Mommy got her shot with only a small winced smile; Andrew bit down, held his breath and took it like a champ; and Martin was held against my chest, squeezing his arms around my neck in a Superman-hug as the nurse deftly got him in the leg with the needle. Martin hates to cry, and he managed to hold it in, despite the tears welling up in his eyes for a minute or so afterward.

So now it's Jessica's turn. Jessica? Where is she? And where is Jeannie, for that matter? Oh wait, I hear them. Martin and I wander out into the hall only to find a scene which I can barely describe. Jeannie, somehow still with a facial expression of calm and control, was attempting to contain what appeared to be a blur of flailing appendages. It was as if a miniature tornado of blond hair appeared in the hallway and Jeannie was trying to collect it. As I watched this unfold, from the eye of the storm flew a tennis shoe; and then another. Martin and I, at Jeannie's request (read: hand signals), are trying to walk away further down the hall, but I can't look away. The screaming builds now with greater intensity.

At some point, we must have turned back, though the details are a bit sketchy, I'll admit (this is a common symptom of sufferers of post-traumatic stress disorder). The next thing I know, Jeannie and I have traded roles, I'm scooping up the fury from the floor, feeling a couple of blows glance off my chin. I'm only a few feet from the door to the nurse's office where they are standing at the ready, needle in hand and ready to assist with restraint. As I clear the door, my progress suddenly halts and my feet barely register this fact and almost walk out from underneath me. Jessica, I realize, managed to get her arms free and has established a death grip on the door jamb, bracing herself like a cat being shoved into the toilet. I couldn't risk pulling one of my hands free lest she slip from my grasp entirely, so Jeannie worked to pry her fingers from the entryway. At long last, we were back where we started.

"Just sit down and hold her", they said to me, waving that needle around like it was Excalibur. I sat. At this point, Jessica was beyond hysterics. The screaming had been replaced by a different sound, like a low whirring sound that comes from way deep down. ...You remember that scene from "The Exorcist" where the little girl's head spins all the way around? "Jessica's not here right now", it seemed to say. "Hold her arms!", "Hold her legs, she's kicking!", "Grab her head, don't let her look!". Agh! I only have two arms!. Squeeze, poke, release, back away, done.

Ten more seconds of combustion and finally we begin the long, slow descent. This stage carried us out of the nurse's office (thank you, come again!), down the hall, outside to the van, and almost all the way home. Eventually, it results in a collapse onto the couch, barely conscious as the cartoons play at the dinner hour.

Yeah, so that was Thursday. I have no idea what else happened that day. But by Friday, Jess was showing off the little red dot on her arm where she got her flu shot... like it was nothing.

After a summer of vacations, swimming and sleeping in, the inevitable school year finally arrived, and once more the kids (and Jeannie, too) tackle a new year in education.

Okay, so that was about as boring as my story intros get, right?  Truth be told, I tried to add some much-needed sarcasm, but I just couldn't find it.  My creativity is zapped at the moment.  Suffice it to say that:

• Jessica has been reuinted with Holly and Hailie (the trio known in certain circles as "Cookie, Cookie and Cookie").
• Andrew has not only found his high place from which to survey the entire playground, but has also made several new friends in 6th grade.
• And Jeannie... well, Jeannie is back in her game, and our floor hasn't been this covered with paperwork since that fiasco we had a tax time back in the late nineties.

All in all, everyone is doing fantastic.  Andrew's schedule is quite busy nowadays, with school, soccer and his volunteer job at Pet World.  But, we're making it work and in contrast to the Monday through Friday routines, the weekends are soon to be as they were intended... sacred and not to be trifled with.