I needed this.

There's a lot to think about when you're planning your daughter's first lengthening. Paley-patient Emma, pictured above, seems to suggest that mobility won't be a problem.

Ok, that was a long time.

I'm still here, I swear.

What can I say? It's a tough schedule I keep. Knee-deep in 360 middle schoolers from 7 AM to 3 PM. Maybe get in a workout after work. Chase Emily around the rest of the day. Did I mention she stays up later than I do? I know you think this stuff just writes itself, but it's hard to come up with brand new poop jokes every few weeks. Even when you have an almost-three-year-old who's actually potty training.

Let's see...where were we? Last we talked I was thanking my hoop team for their thoughtfulness. Shortly after, those of us at Camp Tredwell were prepping for Emily's first soccer fundraiser. It turned out to be a great time. Both teams took a real shine to our girl. Emily got to go out on the field during warm-ups and get loose, sit on the Fairfield bench during the game and even get prime seating in the press box. That's a full evening! Thanks to Coach O'Brien, Coach Cohen and Coach Lopes for putting together a tremendous evening. Despite temperatures in the "let's just stay inside" range, we still drew a decent crowd to watch some spring soccer. Extra special thanks go to Bri Miller and Alli Walsh, two injured Stag players, who sat near the front gate and hit people for donations. These two couldn't have been any nicer. While their Fairfield degrees will certainly take them to bigger and better things, they can always fall back on careers in fundraising.

I'm sure a lot has happened since then, but I've pretty much screwed myself by taking all this time in between posts. Really? I can remember all the details? The witty remarks? The uncharted cuteness? Remember, I'm not terribly bright and a bit of a boozer. It's just a matter of time before Emily is rolling her eyes at me and walking away with an exasperated, "Ok, Dad..."

So, until I decide that it's much easier to post a picture with a quick blurb every few days, I'll just have to catch you up bullet-point-style.

• I'm pleased to say Emily is taking after dear old Dad with her ability to quote movies. Because "Despicable Me" is in her rotation right now, she rips those lines out at just the right moments. Time for dinner? "Assemble the minions!" Ordering pizza? "I will stuff you all in the crust!" If you don't get these jokes, you need to get on her level.
• She has a new swingset in her backyard. It is her equivalent to Ray Kinsella's baseball field. It is the first thing she looks for when she wakes up.
• She can flip out with the best of them. Offer her a peanut butter sandwich and, in the same breath, she will cry, "I DON'T WANT THAT! Give it to me. Thank you!" Either she's soon to be turning three or she's bi-polar. It's really 50-50 at this point.
• She loves to sing and dance. She knows the words to a number of top 40 songs featuring Rihanna, Adele and the Black Eyed Peas. I'm not sure how I feel about that.
• She clearly has personality. I often label her "bossy" and am immediately corrected by women who call her "assertive." How ironic.
• She often asks, "You know who's going to fix my boo-boo? Dr. Paley."

As sweet as the last one is, it's a phrase that's starting to take over our little world. With about five weeks before our next check-up with The Man, we're starting to put plans in motion for her first lengthening next year. Even as I sit and write this, thinking about alternate housing, stretching the finances, insurance and separating the family for an extended period is creating a knot in my stomach. Nevermind the fact that it's our beautiful little girl who will be going through such excruciating pain for months at a time.

But what can you do? There was never another option. This is what we're doing. We've got a plan. We're all in. It's just our turn.

While being busy was a convenient excuse, perhaps this is why I took such a lengthy hiatus. It allowed me to avoid the reality of the situation. For the longest time, this was something we would have to go through eventually, but not now. Later. Much later.

Not anymore.

And I know, I know...we'll get through it. We have to. But knowing that doesn't necessarily make this easier.

Uh, I don't have a clever ending here. Maybe next time. For now, just enjoy a couple recent pictures and hopefully I'll be back soon.

It had to happen eventually.

By "it," I actually mean two separate events. The first "it" was the inevitable end of my basketball season. The other "it" was my next widely-anticipated blog post. Yes, technically I posted that flier announcing the upcoming Fairfield - Southern Connecticut spring soccer game (Friday, April 15th! Tell your friends!) but that didn't cover my usual quota of cute Emily photos and sophomoric fart jokes. So, after catching up with all my post-season responsibilities (paperwork, schoolwork, re-introducing myself to my wife, etc.) and watching UConn take the NCAA tourney by storm (sadly, I did NOT pick that one) it's clearly time to buckle in and update the masses. Keep your hands inside the car at all times, please!

Ok, I actually don't have anything too exciting to report. Remember, I was basically an absentee father from late November to early March. Really, I just want to talk about my team and how great they've been. My girls had a pretty good season. We doubled our win total from the previous year and even made some noise in the state tournament. But they could have won the whole damn thing and it probably wouldn't have meant more to me then how they've been with Emily all season. It started last August when we returned home from her Superhip surgery in Florida and found a massive pink box stuffed high with toys, coloring books, crayons, dvds and every type of fun imaginable, all courtesy of Hand girls' basketball. The mini basketball that every kid signed was a pretty nice touch, too.

It didn't stop during the season, either. If Kate brought Ems to practice, everything stopped as they elbowed each other out of the way to be the first to pick her up. After a good win or a tough loss, these girls were never too tired, too busy or too cool to roll around on the floor with my ever-energetic toddler. When it came time for our team picture, they insisted that Emily be in the shot. Like I was going to say no.

And if that was all they did, it would still be more than I could ever want.

But they went above and beyond. They went ABOVE above and beyond. In an effort to raise some money for our future Florida excursions, a good friend donated his tickets for the Lakers-Celtics game in Boston. 9th row behind the basket. Phenomenal seats. Our booster club took the opportunity and ran with it, selling raffle tickets to anyone with a wallet. The team carried Emily out to center court during halftime of one of our biggest games so she could pick the winning ticket. One of my senior captains was even kind enough to point out the dance teams' skimpy outfits and say "we wear longer shorts than that, Emily." Well done.

One of my sophomores, however, wasn't satisfied. She got her parents to front enough money to buy 1,000 black rubber bracelets with "HOOPS FOR EMILY" printed in gold on them. The team went to work selling these as well.

At the banquet, my girls presented Kate and I with two checks. I'm not often speechless, but, well, you get the idea. In my attempt to sufficiently thank everyone for their effort and support, I tried to tell them just how much it all meant to me...how much THEY meant to me. I told them someday we're going to win a state title. We have the talent and the commitment in this town necessary to make that happen. But I wouldn't trade ten state titles for the privilege of coaching this basketball team. And if you think I got through that without getting a little emotional, then you haven't been paying attention.

So, to Ash, Leo, Kelsey, Kara, Jackie, Morgan, Kelsey, Gianna, Graceann, Fitz, Jenn, Hannah, Trish, Grace, Sophie, Colette and Lily...thank you. Thank you for everything you've done for me and my family.

Emily LOVES Graceann.

Thanks for teaching Emily about spit bubbles, Kara.

Emily, surrounded by her "friends," picking out the winning ticket.

Thank you, Gianna.

How cool is this?

Our beautiful girl.

No news to report. Just wanted to show her off.

Blizzard!

Don't know what the total accumulation is on this monster snowstorm, but I can tell you it's getting us a second day off from school tomorrow. Plenty of much-needed quality time with my ladies!

I think I might pass out from all the cuteness.

The driveway provides the perfect bunny slope.

Not sure who had more fun here.

Taking a break from all the fun.

Not even close to done.

Is it really 2011???

Yes, I'm somewhat embarrassed to say I haven't posted since last year. It's not like I've had a shortage of material to broadcast, either. What can I say? Basketball season is a grind, man. 13-hour days every weekday which feature the regular teaching day, practice prep, film breakdown, meetings and actual practice before eventually getting home to hang out with my two favorite ladies for about 90 minutes before crashing hard. Wash, rinse, repeat. But that's not what you're here for, is it? Listening to a grown man piss and moan about how hard his work day is? Seriously, is it? What is wrong with you? We'll get to that later.

Let's dip back to early December when Kate, Emily and Gram took Superhip week by storm, going from Connecticut to West Palm and back in just about 36 hours. They met up with the Petraske, Scott, Rodriguez and Tudor clans who have collectively dubbed themselves "The Lengthening Class of 2012." Children played. Stories were shared. Superhip shirts were worn. Hard to believe they avoided the paparazzi.

While it was a treat to finally get some face time with our people, that wasn't exactly the point of the visit. Dr. Paley needed to follow up on his craftsmanship from August and, ya know, he generally gets what he wants. With roughly a dozen doctors and therapists from around the world following his every move, he presented Emily's entire case and described her progress in a very positive manner. He was pleased enough that he told Kate he didn't need to see us until next summer and that would be the last time before her lengthening in May of 2012. While that seemed nice, Kate admits she didn't think much of it until a clearly surprised Caroline Eaton exclaimed that she's never seen Dr. Paley do that. He usually wants to see his kids every six months, minimum. Still not sure what he saw that makes him feel so confident. Not even sure I care. All I know is when people ask how Emily is, I always respond the same way. "Bulletproof."

Since then, time has moved with Flash-like speed. Ems continues to grow and develop at an alarming rate. She just looks so....old. She's very much a little girl. Yes, the seemingly ever-present binky makes her appear more toddler-like (we've now limited it to bedtime...it's like kicking heroin) but every once in a while Kate will get Emily dressed up with her hair in a ponytail and I'll just think...when did we get an 8-year old? I'm not a fan of this phenomenon.

Nevertheless, while she ages far too rapidly, it is wonderful to watch. She is an amazing child. She is beautiful and happy and curious and funny and demanding and easily the greatest thing I've ever been a part of. I'm just doing my best not to screw it up.

If I had a resolution in 2011, it would be to spend more time with Kate and Emily. With that, we're going out to play in the snow. Gotta take advantage of a day off in the middle of the week.

Mom and dad, otherwise engaged. Emily, constantly aware of the camera.

I love the smirk. You'd think someone just gave her socks.

Emily giving us "pensive."

Taking after her dad's casual approach.

Seriously, when did she get so old??

Awesome.

I believe most of you know these two handsome devils. Dr. Dror Paley on the left and Ms. Caroline Eaton on the right rocking Tredwell brand "superhip" shirts. When the man who makes miracles and the woman who helps the man make miracles are wearing your shirts, your fundraiser is a success.
Thanks for all you do! Keep up the good work!

Don't call it a comeback!

Ordinarily, this is where I'd slowly slink into the room, head down, tail between the legs, mumbling some pathetic excuse of an apology for the longest blog hiatus in the history of The Gray Area. But not this time. Oh, no campers...I'm done apologizing. I'm a man. Not much of one, but a man, nonetheless. A man with things to do. What things? Don't ask me questions like that! Sarah Palin taught me that direct questions are a violation of my first amendment rights. Shame on you! And so close to Veteran's Day, too...

Obviously, my absence has had no effect on my grasp of a ridiculously bizarre and completely unrelated rant. What can I say? I stay true to myself. But in all honesty, it's been a combination of things that's kept me post-free since September 23rd. First off, I've been keeping up with my man Carter who is ahead of Emily on this journey. He's a tough, good-looking kid and his mom does such a fabulous job with him and her family and her blog that, and I'm not ashamed to admit this, I was a little hesitant to get back to posting. Seriously, how can a rapidly-aging, barely-literate, middle school gym teacher hope to compete? Then, to send me further down my self-imposed shame spiral, I discovered this little slice of brilliance and, well, my literary insecurities ran wild.

But it wasn't all bad. I also managed to rope the wife into joining me for some real workouts a few days a week which, naturally, turned into a whole family event. The family that sweats together stays together! But then Daddy had to get all old and soft and tear his left pectoral muscle. Deep down, I think Kate is happy...not that I'm hurt...just that I won't be nagging her to come work out with me.

Ok. So...we're gonna just go ahead and put the brakes on the Tim Tredwell Pity Party and move on to the good stuff. Like, ya know...why we're here...that cool, kid Emily. Last time I checked, we were flashing pictures of that bionic hip and shoving her out into the wild to test it out. Let's see...cast off on a Thursday, taking tentative steps Saturday, wandering around Ikea unassisted by Monday. Seriously. People continually ask "how's Emily?" My response each and every time..."Bulletproof."

And it's not even about the mobility or the fact that a scar down her leg seems to be the only evidence anything was ever done to her. She's just such a nice kid. She's cute and smart and fun and talks all the time (not always a positive.) Wednesday night while Kate was out to dinner with friends, Ems and I were snuggled on the couch watching Lilo and Stitch. She looks at me and says excitedly, "Wanna make popcorn?" I know she's just past 27 months old now and it's not like she explained how to solve for X or anything...but it was just so darn cute. You could say I'm a fan.

Kate, Emily and Gram will be shuttling down to West Palm Beach in early December for a check-up with The Man. I will not be traveling this time as I prepare my other girls for their season. I'm sure the Tredwell Women will be taking Superhip Week by storm. Probably best for me to just stay out of the way.

I promise to be in touch before then. In the meantime, some pictures of the cutest girl we know.

Cast Away!!!

That, my friends, is the tiny piece of hardware placed in Emily's right femur and hip during her Superhip procedure six weeks ago. That x-ray was taken yesterday. Last night at about 10:50 PM, Dr. Paley e-mailed us the ok to remove her cast for good and begin weight-bearing and physical therapy. And there was much rejoicing. If I had more time, I would go into great detail about our plans for a nice retirement ceremony for this stupid, clam-shell, urine-stanked brace (think a large open field, safety goggles and three sticks of dynamite) but I don't. So, instead just think about our kid roaming free yet again. And smile a lot. Because we are.