Friday night, what?

This weekend, Friday, I fell asleep early after putting Little Girl to bed. Gary arrived home after some function with a buddy, he came down stairs, "Hey, what happened to Fiona's face?"
"What?" slightly alarmed & groggy, I sat up.
"What happened to her face?" he repeats. "Come up stairs and look."
I roll off the bed where I had been reading and follow him upstairs, racking my brain to remember if she hit anything, ran into anything, ate anything---anything out of ordinary.
Upon opening the door to her room I realize what he really means is what did she do to her face.

That's washable marker. All over her arms & legs & face. I let her sleep it off.
First thing Saturday morning, "Good morning, sweetheart, what did you draw on yourself?"
"Those are my race numbers mommy!"

Oh, right, silly me.

We didn't discover the rocks under her pillow until much later Saturday. Sometimes I'd really like film of what she does to occupy herself until she actually goes to sleep, it must be an impressive imaginative display what with all the random objects and stacks of books we find.

A great weekend with the beginning of football and some lovely fall-type weather. The Maple out back is already beginning to turn I think.

Go Broncos! and by default, Go Packers!

Party Animals

Little Girl has started partying, already, with Porter. In the middle of the night when she wakes, seemingly because she has to potty, the cat hears her and bounds upstairs. I know that he bounds up the stairs because the infernal you-won't-catch-a-bird-with-this-on bell makes a racket. I swear, somehow the Cowprint Killah sneaks about on occasion with the bell silent---why he won't give us some respectful quiet at 2 am as he's one his way to rile up The Child, I don't know. *snerk*

Fiona tells the story of Porter at night, "Kitty's at my door, an' he says, 'meow let me in meow' and so I let him in...."
Okay, great, but you know, Fiona, you can say, "No, kitty, I'm sleeping." To which she smiles. that angelic-small-child-smile. The partying has got to stop though, 'cause it takes a serious toll on my sleep, not to mention the bear of a child that results when sleep is unstable.

Yesterday afternoon, one moment the clamorous noise of a normal 3 year old, then nothing. When I went to search for the source of the brazen quietude, I found my daughter passed out on the floor. Now, I'm not foolish, I don't wake a sleeping baby or child. Mostly because running the risk of then having a cranky intolerant miniature tyrant on one's hands is unappealing. So, don't wake a sleeping child within reason. It is my job to ensure that she sleeps at night so I have to wake her, gently, such that she'll be manageable for the rest of the evening.
This week has been on this "schedule":
Fiona & Porter party from 2-5 give or take.
I go upstairs to chase Porter out of her room several times, ask her to stay in bed & go back to sleep.
I doze on couch listening to Fiona singing & reading---where at least twice The Cat has hung out where I could see him, waiting for me to fall asleep completely then he returns to The Party. B*stard.
Eventually books drop loudly to the floor one at a time---then she sleeps until 9 or 10 am. Which I admit can be nice in a way, definitely throws off whatever plans I had though. I may not sleep again until that night, but Fiona has passed out on the floor twice this week.

Summer Days

A beautiful, chill, late summer morning, just the hint that Autumn will be here soon enough.
But not yet!

Last Friday Fiona & I went out to find adventure. After some tribulation in finding the location we were after, we started Little Girl's first hike under her own power. The guide book had a misprint, mistake, who knows---but 20 odd miles off the mark is quite a typo. The hike is called Lily Mountain, right next to Lily Lake, a shortish distance from the infamous Long's Peak Area (a very popular 14-er overnight hike). At 8500' elevation, of moderate difficulty, just under 2 miles, I worried at first it might be too challenging. I really needn't have worried at all. I sometimes forget that it's Okay to turn around, it's Okay to call it off---this, like everything in life, doesn't have to be a struggle. IF the guidebook was accurate in it's description of the hike, we almost made it to the end. I decided that for Fiona to succeed in making it all the way back to the car on her own, that we should turn back "at that next big rock," just after the switchbacks started. She was compliant, which certainly meant she was tiring. Total distance was definitely a mile, though my pace gauge is off when there are fits & starts of the preschool-age kind, it may have been as much as 1.5 mi.


Everyone we met on the trail was more than gracious allowing Fiona to "say HI to the puppy dog!" My favorite dogs we saw were the Mini-Australian Sheperds, not too small, not too big, and smart! One day we'll have a dog, one day.

All in all we were on the trail for almost 2 hours, gone from the house all day, next time we head up there we plan to visit the lake which looked inviting. Fiona was belligerently tired, and after she issued her new tantrum trademark blood curdling scream we headed home. Aside: Yesterday after a long bike ride with Jack in the open space, car windows down, she screamed so loudly it echoed down the block---wow.

Other classic summertime activities, picnics at the playground with Friend Jack.


Sidewalk chalking.


And cool 'late' night visits to Bonnie Brae---if ever in Denver one should most definitely sample all of Bonnie Brae Ice Cream's home made flavors. The Butter Brickle is famous. Miss M treated us last night, and Fiona absolutely refused a napkin. Can ya blame the little person having a whiny tantrum when we finally got home? Way past bed time, coming down off a sugar high...I must be delusional if I thought it wouldn't happen.

So it goes, so it happily goes!

August-ness

It gets warm here. Rarely I would call it hot, but most certainly warm. While this past Sunday started out warm, it ended up downright HOT. I finished my Half Iron Man distance triathlon in 7:47:47. Plenty of time under my 8 hour goal! I'm proud. 5430 Long Course Race Report

Gary & Fiona didn't make it to the race unfortunately. Apparently Fiona's nap schedule was obliterated for the day, quite possibly due to my super early mornin' snuggle pre-departure for my race. She passed out around noon & though Gary even banged up against her bed with the vacuum, she didn't budge. I don't blame him for not wanting to drag her out of bed, cranky, and sleepless to hang out in hot sun for what would've been hours. So, instead he cleaned house & made bleu cheese bacon burgers on sweet chili bread, with mesclun greens, pickles & olives. Ginger ale too boot, and French Pot small batch ice cream. It was lovely. Miss M did make the trip to Boulder & got to see me cross the finish line, it was really great having someone there I knew that I could chat with & celebrate with. Thank you, M!

This week has been recovery, the first time the notion of going back to the gym occurred to me at all last night. A good sign. I figure this afternoon will be easy strength train & lite cardio, maybe some yoga too, if I'm lucky.

Fiona has spent numerous days at the pool with Mercy & Jack, as have I when not picking up hours at the bike shop. She's becoming so confident on her bike that I will probably have to start riding with her instead of walking. Last week she rode a solid 2 miles from our house to the Brunner Farm House, only managing to frighten me once the whole ride. Yesterday I surprised her with a water bottle cage, mounted to her handlebars. Reminding her that she wanted to ride her bike was the only catalyst strong enough to rouse her from napping last afternoon. Trying to make Autumn plans for some travel, I hope some camping, too. We shall see, we shall see.

Yes, yes, she has a little laptop. It's sooner than I would've liked, reminds me of a Speak n' Read. The thing is acceptable for now, and a while to come I think. Screen time is still limited, as is TV, and everything else electronic. Now if only I could hold the same rule for myself! :)

Is There Really A Human Race?

by Jaime Lee Curtis, illustrated by Laura Cornell

Is there really a human race?
Is it going on now all over the place?
When did it start?
Who said, "Ready, set, go?"
Did it start on my birthday?
I really must know.

Do I warm up and stretch? Do I practice and train?
Do I get my own coach? Do I get my own lane?
Do I race in the snow? Do I race in a twister?
Am I racing my friends? Am I racing my sister?
If the race is a relay, is Dad on my team?
And his dad and his dad? You know what I mean.

Is the race like a loop or an obstacle course?
Am I a jockey, or am I a horse?
Is there pushing and shoving to get to the lead?
If the race is unfair, will I succeed?

Do some of us win? Do some of us lose?
Is winning or losing something I choose?
Why am I racing? What am I winning?
Does all of my running keep the world spinning?
If I get off track when I take the wrong turn, do I make my way back from mistakes?
Do I learn?

Is it a sprint? A dash to the end?
Am I aware of the time that I spend?
And why do I do it, this zillion yard dash?
If we don't help each other, we're all going to...
CRASH!

Sometimes it's better not to go fast.
There are beautiful sights to be seen when you're last.
Shouldn't it be that you just try your best?
And that's more important than beating the rest?
Shouldn't it be looking back at the end that you judge your own race by the help that you lend?

So, takes what's inside you and make big, bold choices.
And for those who can't speak for themselves use bold voices.
And make friends, and love well, bring art to this place.
And make the world better for the whole human race.