The Cat’s Meow

Before we were parents to three high-energy humans, we were parents to three already-adult felines.

I always thought that our taking in of these strays and learning to care and be responsible for other beings was what made me feel ready for fatherhood when it came.

We lost the first of those three in 2019 – when our dear orange Beardslee left us due to what was believed to be cancer. I still miss his calming presence. His final months were a struggle, for he and us. He had lost control of his bowels, and hearing him awaken in the middle of the night often meant we had to as well in order to follow him through the house and clean up any mess left behind as he walked. It was trying and we wish we had known sooner just how sick he seemed to be. Looking back, while we always wish we could have more time with him, I still think it was better he went when he did in Fall 2019, before the chaos that would ensue just a few months later in 2020. I can’t imagine dealing with his needs, issues, and the constant appointments leading up to the end amid the upheaval in the world at the time. 

Four-plus years later, the recent months have found our two remaining kitties dealing with their own share of health issues. Winston, our little gray boy, was diagnosed with diabetes in the fall after a stretch of out-of-character behavior and lethargy led to several vet visits and blood tests. Our other boy, Jasper, who has had thyroid issues for a few years, now is also battling arthritis, anemia, kidney failure, and about two weeks ago – blindness. It happened literally overnight. He woke up on a Friday morning and was bumping into everything, crying as if he were lost, and generally confused. The vet’s theory is that he had high blood pressure, which often goes hand-in-hand with kidney failure. A spike in that blood pressure overnight is what caused him to lose his sight. I can’t blame him for his fear. I would be downright terrified if I were to wake up one day without my ability to see.

Suddenly our little four-legged boy who, like clockwork, used to leap into bed and nudge his way between us, turn on his side and lay an arm on Meg to go to sleep can no longer find the bed, let alone have the vision to leap into it. We pick him up sometimes when he’s wandering in the dark and place him with us right where he would always go, but there’s always a level of alertness when we do. We need to be ready to wake up if he does before he walks off the bed and falls to the floor.

It’s been an adjustment for all of us – cats, parents, and kids included. We’re still adjusting. Two shots a day for Winston and a prescription diet seemed like a change of pace. But now, Jasper’s issues have went from just a pill twice a day for his thyroid to also a liquid med for arthritis, a once a month shot for arthritis, liquid iron for the anemia, his own prescription diet for the kidney disease, and liquid blood pressure medicine. Thank god for Meg, who handles the meds with aplomb like a seasoned alligator wrestler. Winston’s insulin shots, I can do, no problem. But with Jasper’s loss of sight, he no longer takes the pills in little pill pockets like he used to. And liquid meds? Phew. He will spit it all over rather than get it down his gullet, especially the iron. I can’t say I blame him. Who wants the taste of metal in their mouth every day?

Yes, they’re aging, just as we all do. Much like us, they each age differently. They’ve gone from being our “first babies” to watching us bring home little human babies. Now those little humans are growing up too, and helping care for the furry little siblings who once nudged their baby-sized heads on the floor. These latest changes in life for them has certainly led to a change for all of us. Our plans are now more regularly timed to coincide with medicine schedules, and with the recent blindness we try not to leave Jasper alone for too long on his own – at least until he gets a better lay of the land while being essentially in the dark.

But amid the disarray and the exhaustion, there does come a sliver of appreciation for the time we have while we have it. While it does not seem like we are yet in the end days as we were with Beardslee, so many health issues to tackle make us realize that our time with our loved ones, be they furry or otherwise, is far shorter than we would like. It’s easy to not realize amid the day-in and day-out that the faces we see, the people and beings we love, are on their own timetable. Enjoy the everyday moments, the things and faces and whiskers that seem so routine as we never know when that routine will quickly change and those seemingly mundane, every day moments will no longer be part of it.

The case for the hodgepodge Christmas tree

I’ve changed my mind when it comes to Christmas tree ornaments. 

I know this news will surely halt you in your tracks and cause a break into programming with such a bombshell news bulletin. And if you know what a news bulletin is in this day and age, kudos – your joints will probably hurt when you get up from reading this.

When I was in my twenties, something convinced me that Christmas tree decorating was all about aesthetics. Perhaps I fell prey to the marketing of carefully curated images in magazines and online articles or the displays in stores with baubles, selected to create a perfect, picturesque and camera-ready blend of colors against the green.

So out were the mismatched assemblage of ornaments that could range from elf to superhero at any given branch. In were the silver and blue, or red and gold of clean and slick Christmas. 

Nice looking on the surface, but as I look back, no connection to reach for beyond the first layer of pretty.

Now, in my forties, I find myself a convert to the hodgepodge Christmas tree. 

Aesthetics has its place, but now I realize so do memories. That’s exactly what those mismatched Christmas ornaments represent – memories. Each ornament is tied to a memory of the past: where it came from, when it arrived, or who made it It all brings about a swirl of reflections on times gone by, the places we’ve been, the people we’ve known, and what can sometimes seem like completely different lifetimes.

For me it might be a little glass Macy’s elf we picked up during a Christmastime visit to New York City before we were married, or a silver, glittery tree made up of spirals taken home from a Christmas party ornament exchange. Maybe it’s just Scrooge McDuck sitting in the tree, counting his money and reminding me of one of my favorite Christmas specials since I was a kid. Or any countless others reminders amid the green. 

So I say leave the picture-perfect, color-coordinated perfections to the department stores, to the magazines, and to the social media accounts. Dig out and embrace your past, hang it from a branch in all its mismatched fashion and enjoy the trip through the past wherever and whenever every branch takes you. 

Lucy and the Ghost Take the stage! by Dave Dellecese – Perfect Picture Book Friday

What an honor! And what a wonderful review!

“Lucy & The Ghost Take the Stage!” featured for “Perfect Picture Book Friday” by Patricia Tilton’s Children’s Books Heal.

Thank you for such kind words.

Children's Books Heal

Lucy and the Ghost Take the Stage!

Dave Dellecese, Author

Karen Crystina, Illustrator

Dandy Press, Fiction, Mar. 7, 2023

Suitable for ages: 5-9

Themes: Theater, Performing Arts, Acting, Ghost, Kids making a difference

Opening: “In a quiet little town, / not as big as once before, / sat a cozy little theater / built in 1864.”

Synopsis

Lucy loves the theatre, rushing home after school each day to be part of the magic under the spotlight.

But in a world where screens have replaced the stage, can her beloved small town playhouse survive? Or will Lucy need help from an unexpected source to bring audiences back?

What I like about this book:

Dave Dellecese has written a charming story about a group of kids who want to save their historic theater. My favorite theme — a group of kids trying to make a difference in…

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Lucy and the Ghost Take the Stage!

If you want a small glimpse into the scattered nature of my mind at this stage of life, this certainly qualifies. I had a new children’s book come out in recent months and as a friend pointed out to me, I mostly forgot to tell people about it. Or, as he so put it – “I know if I had a new book out, I wouldn’t forget it. I’d be shouting from the rooftops about it.”

Whoops.

So, yeah. When I say I’m scattered and unsure what direction I’m going in these days, I think that’s a great example of how big or small, it all slips through the cracks.

Okay. So, yes! I have a brand new children’s book out, following up on the 2019 release of The Little Lamp comes a brand-new picture book from illustrator Karen Crysttina and myself – Lucy and the Ghost Take the Stage!

It’s the story of young Lucy Swarthout who loves the theatre and rushes home after school each day to be part of the magic under the spotlight. But in a world so often dominated by screens, it’s becoming harder for Lucy’s beloved small town playhouse to survive. It’ll take the work of the entire troupe, and some supernatural assistance if they expect to bring audiences back into the seats.

Celebrating the excitement and creativity of the arts and the wonder it brings to those of any age, child and adult alike, who tap into the joy of playing pretend up on stage, Lucy’s tale also reminds us that sometimes things seem much scarier in theory than they turn out to be in real life. It’s a concept I’ve had floating around in various stages for quite some years now, inspired by my own involvement in theatre throughout the years and the supposedly haunted small town stage where I met my wife when we were both cast in a show together.

Available in paperback, hardcover, and eBook form, I hope you’ll check it out. And if you enjoy it, please take a moment and leave an honest review on Amazon or Goodreads.

You can do it, Josh!

For several years we’ve had a weekly tradition of a movie night together. We rotate who’s turn it is each week and everybody gets a pick. Can it be a challenging battle of tastes when the youngest is in kindergarten and the oldest in fifth grade? Absolutely. But as we reiterate every week – don’t yuck someone else’s yum. And in the end, most of the time we all end up having a good time, regardless of the choice. A big bowl of popcorn doesn’t hurt either.

Recently, our kindergartner chose “Blues Big City Adventure” – a new movie with the famous blue-hued dog from Blues Clues and You and Josh (Joshua Dela Cruz) leaving their Storybook World behind for New York City, chasing after Josh’s dream of landing an audition for a Broadway show. 

In art imitating life, everything Josh and Blue touch in the Big Apple come to life in exciting and inspiring ways, from condiments on a hot dog cart to trees in the park, or just the spontaneous need into inspiring song and dance all come courtesy of Josh’s infectious energy and kindness. It’s art imitating life, as even as a grown-up viewer, you can not help but be swept up in Josh’s enthusiastic spirit. And, of course, he and Blue are not alone.

Of course, when Josh realizes he left his notebook at home with the audition address, the real adventure begins for them to find their way, while old friends from back home, like Mr. Salt take to the big city to get Josh his notebook, with the help of some old friends – Steve and Joe (Steve Burns and Donovan Patton, respectively). Even Alex Winter of Bill & Ted fame shows up offering some sage life advice as a wise cab driver.

While Blue’s Clues was after my time, I’m fully aware of the roles that Steve and Joe played to young viewers throughout their tenure, so it’s pure joy to see these guys fully embracing their place in the legacy of children’s programming and reprising their roles with a bit of experience and hilarious self awareness. 

When Mr. Salt, the talking salt shaker, tracks down Steve (now a Detective) to help find Josh’s lost notebook with the address of the audition, Mr Salt and Steve briefly reminisce about the good old days and the 3 clues that Josh (and his predecessors of course) jotted down to find a solution. In a wink and nod moment, Steve, looking off in the distance longingly reflects on the passage of time from his days of tracking three clues with Blue to solve a puzzle, telling Mr Salt. “Those were the days. These days I need four clues. Maybe five.” His straightforward delivery when picking up mustard to put on his hot dog (without a Thinking Chair these days, Steve relies on thinking food in the big city), he is unflappable as he greets the talking mustard container with an unfazed “Hello. How are you? Good to see you,” that is as natural as saying hi to an acquaintance walking down the street.    

The banter between Steve and Joe as they work together to track down Josh and return his notebook is as good as any buddy cop picture, and their abilities to both embrace and have fun in the roles forever placed in the hearts of the franchise’s growing audience is a pure delight, no matter your age.

Does Josh make it to the audition with the help of his friends? Of course he does! This is Blue’s Clues, after all! Can you imagine if he hadn’t? All is well with the world when the nearly 90 minute song and dance adventure comes to a close, and all of us, child and adult alike are left with an inspiring feeling to never give up on yourself.

Blue’s Clues: Blue’s Big City Adventure is available to stream via Paramount+.

The Fast Friendships of Youth

If you’re lucky, and I certainly feel I was, your childhood may have been spent running through yards, riding bikes down the street, jumping on the playground, or maybe thrilling to the latest episode of your favorite cartoon, all alongside a friend or two.

Those playground days seem so simple when we look back. You walk up, you introduce yourself, you start talking and you get to work on that wondrous and necessary job of childhood – playing.

Flash forward to our adult years and the awkward feelings of meeting fellow parents at a school function or kid’s birthday party, or the sheer number of times we tell someone (old friends and new acquaintances alike) that we need to get together, over and over again, constantly promising yourself it’ll happen, after just this one next thing you need to do.

So believe me when I say how, after years of awkwardness and social difficulties as aging adults, I was amazed on a recent beach trip with the family when I watched our youngest strike up friendships in a heartbeat.

Most of us waded into the water, adjusting from the initial shock of cold to not-quite-warmth-but comfortable (or is it just numbness?) that comes from staying a bit longer. Meanwhile, our preschooler, pail and shovel in hand, sat just a few feet away at the shore playing in the sand. It didn’t take long before another small child wandered on over and conversation instantly began about what she was doing. Within just a moment, they were already talking about what they could create in the sand together. No shovel? No problem. Without a thought, our younger grabbed an extra shovel from her batch of beach toys and handed it over. It wasn’t long before they both were digging, scooping, dumping and building with the grainy stuff. They didn’t even hesitate to make future plans.

OUR PRESCHOOLER: “We have to eat lunch soon.”

OTHER KID: “I don’t know what we’re having for lunch.”

OUR PRESCHOOLER: “You can have lunch with us.”

And, of course, don’t you know that, like the middle-aged, somewhat introvert I’ve become in recent years, I instantly clinched. “What are you doing?” I thought as I overheard it. “You can’t just invite some small kid you just met to eat with us. We don’t even know who they are. What will their parents say? They’ll think we’re weirdos!” This is the kind of mental runaway train that runs through our adult minds that would never occur to them in their pure unadulterated conversation or thoughts.

But not for them. 

What is it about children that allows them to make friends so easily? To strike up conversation with a complete stranger and immediately look for common interests without a lick of self-consciousness? It’s an amazing feat and one I suppose we could all learn from as the years pass us by. 

Maybe that’s a part of why we feel so much more disconnected from each other as adults, why those feelings of our childhood seem so farther away yet we become so nostalgic for. We write them off as “simpler times” but maybe the times themselves weren’t what was so simple. Perhaps it was the way we approached life, ourselves, and others – with an open, honest and welcoming outlook. Maybe, just maybe, we and the world might be a little bit happier at any age if we found a way to shirk the self-consciousness, the judgment and embraced the open-heart, open mind, and open inclusion we had when we were kids during those “simpler times”

A girl and her dog take to the skies…again!

Let’s be honest. I’m not above a little shameless self-promotion every now and then.

Perhaps you’re a parent, like me, reading this. And perhaps, also like me, your kids love reading and can’t put down a good book or graphic novel. And maybe, like me, you’re always on the lookout for graphic novels that provide both a great level of entertainment, humor, or adventure that don’t veer into the realm of inappropriate for their age group.

It’s why I’m proud to be working with ultra-talented artist Andrew Cieslinski and the folks at Darby Pop Publishing on the suitable for all-ages graphic novel series, Lacey & Lily

It’s the story of a tween girl, Lacey Cunningham, who finds herself inheriting her late grandmother’s dog, Lily, and before too long, a family legacy she never knew existed. While playing around with gramma’s things, Lacey & Lily come across a pair of costumes that when put on, give them both super powers. Before too long, this girl and her dog find themselves, foiling robberies, battling super-villains, and even stopping an alien invasion, all while uncovering some family secrets along the way.

The first book in the series flew into the world at probably the worst time for comic shops – summer 2020 – a time when many were still closed amid the uncertainty of the first wave of the pandemic. 

But like any overly-exuberant middle schooler, you can’t keep Lacey down, and now she and Lily are back with a brand new collection of adventures from Andrew, myself, and Darby Pop! And what an array of adventures it is! Lacey & Lily are the victims of a mystical body swap after a school magic show gone awry, a perpetrator made of pure paper goes on a crime spree at the local comic shop, Lily takes daily dog antics to a super-level, and a Scooby-like mystery needs some solving on a school field trip to Salem, Massachusetts! 

With a release slated for August 2022, ask your local comic shop to pre-order your copy using the PREVIEWSWorld / Diamond Distributor order code JUN221470

Or, pre-order via New York City’s famed Midtown Comics where you can get 30% off the cover price and have it delivered right to your door!

Fly high, my friends!

Life is What Happens to You While You’re Busy Making Plans

It was a Friday evening toward the end of summer. The sun was not quite setting, but was on its way there shortly, the sky a pinkish hue dotted with scattered cotton balls of clouds. I decided that if there was a chance to get the lawn mowed before a weekend of forecasted rain, this was going to be it. I was working my way through the farthest part of our backyard, around, in and out of thorny bushes, careful to use my arm like the world-famous Elongated Man as much as I could, stretching outward with the mower to get into those hard to reach spaces without coming into contact with the poison thorns that border the back of the yard. I moved around the shed into the challenging space under a large pine tree, the terrain becoming an obstacle course of roots that if not maneuvered correctly could leave me needing a new mower blade. It wouldn’t be the first time. Blurred by the sound of my own machine, the roar of another mower engine was drawing closer. I spotted one of our neighbors also mowing. I smiled, waved, shouting over the growl of dual engines, “A good night for it!” 

He pulled down the headphones from his head and smiled, turning off his mower.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked. 

“Of course. Hopefully I’ve got a decent answer,” I reply, thinking I’m funny but knowing I’m not.

“You’ve got three kids,” he says. “We just had our second a few weeks ago. Any advice?”

I was on the spot. What was I to say? A weary father of a newborn looking to ME for guidance? Does this make me an adult? I can’t possibly be an adult. I’m still just a kid trying to figure out what the heck is going on in life all the time. 

I breathed. Well, really, I smiled and chuckled, but at the same time I was sort of breathing that nervous sigh of hope that I don’t mess this up and tell this young man the wrong thing.

I thought for a moment and told him what I’m about to tell you, dear reader. 

Be kind to yourself. Forgive yourself. Don’t be hard on yourself when you can’t accomplish all the things you could before. Because you’re in a different phase now. And in that phase, the most important thing you can do is spend time with the kids while they’re kids. You’ll never regret it. Every house project, every “plan,” – you’ll get to it when you can. But if it’s not on the same timetable it was with one kid, or no kids, don’t beat yourself up. Your timetables have changed and that’s okay. 

Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.

Whether you’ve heard it from John Lennon’s 1980 song Beautiful Boy, or traced it back to Allen Saunders in a 1957 issue of Reader’s Digest, it could not be more accurate. And the older we get, the more our attention and our time is called toward those who need us, the more we need to remember these words.

Heck, depending on how often you’ve read my ramblings here, you’ve probably noticed the large gaps in between as the years have gone on. The kids get older and time seems to become more and more of a precious commodity. Parenthood has been busy enough that finding the time to write about it just hasn’t been in the cards as much. And that’s okay. I’m cool with that. 

For one person, maybe it’s writing a blog post or making a video. For someone else, maybe you don’t have the creative output you once did and it takes you a lot longer to piece that passion project together. Or maybe that house project or room you’ve been working on isn’t going to get done as quickly as it may have a decade ago. Or maybe it’s any number of things.

It is okay. YOU are okay. You aren’t who you were 5, 10, 20 years ago and you can’t expect to have the same speed or output you did then, because things are different. Not bad, just different. Some things need to take a back seat, and in no way is a reflection on you. Don’t tie the you of now (or the output of the you of now) to the you of then. Forgive yourself. Because there’s other things in life right now that need to take the front seat, that need you there more than those projects need you. So buckle in and enjoy the ride while it’s here. 

If I’ve taken anything away from the past few years and the upheaval the world underwent, it was that so much of what we stressed about, laid so much pressure and importance on, wasn’t that important after all. What matters most of all is that time, that precious time that we get with those we care about. Anything else – it’s gravy.

Sure, we had plans. And we’ll get to them, or we’ll adjust them. The ones that truly matter anyway. 

Yo-Ho! Sending Christmas cards!

If you got the reference in that title – congratulations, you lived through the 1980s and are more than likely to ache when you get out of bed in the morning.

“The Twelve Pains of Christmas” is a song from the 1988 humorous Christmas album Twisted Christmas by Bob Rivers and is the song from which I borrowed one of the lyrics for this post title. During the late 1980s and early 1990s it would often pop up on local radio stations, each verse highlighting another holiday frustration, from stringing up the lights that won’t work, to dinner with unfriendly relatives, and of course, sending Christmas cards.

And I’ve been thinking a lot about Christmas and holiday cards as of late.

Sure, in some ways they can come off as just another tradition, ritual, or an additional ‘pain of Christmas’ that just needs to get crossed off the list so it can land in a mailbox and possibly on someone’s wall as part of their holiday decorating. And in this technological age that allows us to know, for better or worse, what everyone we know is thinking, doing, all the time, these cards may not serve the same purpose they did oh so many moons ago when letter writing and postcards were the primary way of communicating and catching each other up on life. 

But the other night, I found myself staring off at a string of cards draped across a wall in our home, and I realized that while the correspondence component of holiday cards may not serve the same purpose they once did, they serve as something else this time of year – a reminder of the many faces and lives that we’ve had the honor to be a part of and to know. Faces and names familiar today or perhaps once upon a time, maybe a world away, but still in our hearts and our memories. Faces that bring about the sort of warm familial feelings that are at the very core of the holiday season.

A reminder that no matter who we are or where we’ve landed, that there are lives we’ve touched, memories that have intersected, and moments etched in our hearts for years to come.

May we all be so lucky to have a greeting or two, a face that makes us smile and brings about the thought of good times, cross our mailbox, during the holidays or any time of year.

The Sunday of Summer

With a quick flip, the calendar recently turned to yet another month. The Norman Rockwell painting of “Magician” (or sometimes referred to as “Card Tricks”) accompanying the outgoing month of July on our kitchen wall calendar, gave way to this month’s “Dreamboats” – two young women look longingly at movie star photos. 

And, like the magic of that portly man in “Magician” performing card tricks for kids, I was struck – by the reality that, egads, it’s August already.

These last few weeks will fly by, just as every week before it seems to move more and more swiftly with every passing year.

The closing moments of another chapter, making way for a new start signaled by the changing colors of leaves and the glow of the sun taking on a golden hue to everything it touches. Warmer temperatures give way to cooler breezes, the straps of backpacks slipped over small arms as they set out to seek new knowledge, new environments, and new adventures.

The days of the entire family together at the breakfast table will soon drift off into the ether for another season, replaced by the scurry of getting kiddos awakened, fed, clothed, car packed, and ready to make our morning commute to school. 

Returning to the colorful halls of preschool with a very different child than the last time we were there – thinking about their allergies, their behavior, and what new situations, discussions, and emotional landmines await.

So long to coming home with enough daylight to last us through dinner and (if we’re lucky and the bugs aren’t biting) a walk around the neighborhood afterward. Darkness falls much quicker in the months ahead, and those evening commutes home will be spotted with street lights, porch lamps, and the crackle of leaves as they begin to litter the streets and lawns once again.

It’s like the Sunday of summer.

I’m reminded a bit of that Seinfeld episode, The Sniffing Accountant. Kramer, Newman, and Jerry are all parked in a car on a stake-out talking about the days of the week.

NEWMAN: Tuesday has no feel. Monday has a feel, Friday has a feel, Sunday has a feel.

KRAMER: I feel Tuesday and Wednesday

August definitely has a feel.