"This One Goes Out To My Nana..."

As soon as Alex picked up his first guitar at age two, my mom started brainwashing him by saying, "When you're a famous rock star and you're up on stage surrounded by your adoring fans, you'll dedicate a song to your Nana."  Now, despite the fact that she was at the original Woodstock, my mom is not known for her knowledge of pop culture.  To say the least.  When I was in high school, I'm sure she thought my interest in the Red Hot Chili Peppers had to do with a culinary pursuit.  If a song aired on a radio station that didn't have Teddy Pendergrass in their lineup, she didn't know it.  If she had any knowledge of the likes of Iggy Pop, Anthony Keidis, or Perry Farrell, she'd know that one does NOT become a rock star by giving shout-outs to their nana.
She has been in far-off Lisbon, Portugal for a while doing important things like sampling pork cheeks and eating custard-filled pastries, so she hasn't been able to get a good dose of brainwashing into Kenyon...yet.  But we did manage to capture Kenyon giving a non-Nana-shout-out rendition of a popular song.  Give a listen and see how long it takes you to name that tune...

IronKid

Let me preface this post by saying that I want to compete in a triathlon.  Not one of the olympic-sized ones (I'm no crazy person), but a sprint-one.  Those of you who know me may already be chuckling, because if my friends had to come up with a list of adjectives to describe me, 'athletic' wouldn't even make the top 50.  Or 100.  I've been a bit busy for the past 8 years gestating, birthing, or parenting these children o' mine. As my mother often hears me say, "I am a mother of three."

Mark my words, I will do a triathlon in the not-so-distant future, but for now I will live vicariously like an annoying stage mother through Jackson, who participated in IronKids, his first athletic competition, this past weekend. 

At Jackson's age level, IronKids consisted of a 50m swim in Boulder Reservoir, a 2 mile bike ride, and a 500 yard run.  Apart from Sam taking him up to the Reservoir a few days prior to check it out, Jackson didn't do any training.  We wanted to keep it fun, and told him that he was only competing against himself and that simply finishing would be a huge accomplishment.  Besides, we figured there would be plenty of crazy-fit Boulder families who do like three triathlons every weekend, after scaling some fourteeners and doing some ice climbing.

The morning of the race, we pulled into the parking lot at the Reservoir and were conspicuously one of the very few cars without a bike rack and lots of other very athletic equipment-holding devices. 

I pinned Jackson's bib number on his shirt, Sam applied some sunscreen (or skwunskween, as Kenyon calls it), and we did some required Sharpie-marking of his age and bib number on his legs and arms.  Then we stood around amongst lots of sinewy, spandex and other high performance synthetic-wearing people trying to look as if we do this kind of thing, you know, all the time.  Jackson wore his swim trunks and his swim shirt, but there were tons of kids in those tri-suits. 

Jackson in his white swim shirt among the other IronKids

Jackson exiting the water in his white swim shirt

Now, I've mentioned before on this blog that I've got some weird crying disorder, and almost from the moment we arrived I had tears in my eyes as I watched the older division race.  As Jackson lined up with his group near the water's edge, I wanted to puke with nervousness and excitement.  And then he blew me a kiss, so of course I welled up with tears again.






For those of you who aren't hip to triathlon protocol, they stagger the kids' starts so there isn't a full-on stampede into the water, and each kid wears a timing chip on their ankle.  As the kid begins and ends each event, they run over a mat that records the time.  Jackson did really well in the swim, ranking 23rd out of 136 kids in his division.

After running up the path to the transition area, Jackson flung off his swim cap and goggles, threw on his sneakers and helmet, and hopped on his bike.  We couldn't see him for the vast majority of the bike race, but we cheered him on as he rounded the corner back to the transition area to start his run.  He was right in the middle of the pack for his bike portion, placing 66th out of 136 kids.  Later, he'd say that the passing a few kids during the bike race was his favorite part of the whole thing.

The run was also hard for me to get a good view of (especially while running around everywhere with Kenyon on my hip) but we caught him coming down the home stretch.  Running was the hardest portion for him, coming in 102nd out of 136 kids.

Overall, he came in 60th out of 136, which is solid, and he had an absolute blast.  He's looking forward to competing again next year, and maybe by then I'll be one of those sinewy moms with the ultra-high performance athletic gear.  Maybe...but I wouldn't bet on it.

Me with Alex, Kenyon, and Jackson with his hard-earned medal

Plantation 2010

Summer, why hast thou forsaken us?  Somehow I blinked and I now find myself in mid-August, wondering where the hell this season has gone.  I would be remiss if I did not capture some memorable summer experiences on this little blog o' mine by at least tossing together a hodge-podge summertime post, but some things simply demand a post of their own.  Nobody puts Plantation Tree Farm in the corner, so here are some pictorial highlights of our annual trek back to my heaven on earth for a long weekend of family camp at my father-in-law's 500-acre redwood tree forest in Sonoma County, CA.

hanging out at High Trees camp...

Pete shimmied up the tree to make a swing for the kids.  He also made a few adjustments to the tree to make the giraffe Thalia imagined come into clearer view...

the giraffe!

The kids loved balancing on the slack line Casey set up...

the boys found a scorpion

Al Pal

Martina and Casey and their girls road-tripped out from Colorado!

Kenyon and Lucia

the lovely outdoor woodburning stove-heated shower

side of the shower/washing station

John and Ama (and Moe) prepping breakfast

Martina, kiddos, and I out for a hike

heading down to Ed's house

visiting the horses in the pasture

Ed's chicken coop, inspired by the Russian folktake Baba Yaga

hanging out by the koi pond in Ed's garden

free range kids

free range kids, part 2

exploring Lake Oliver

who knew goats were so adorable?

we visited Plantation Farm Camp down the road and were able to help make a human chain to herd the sheep for shearing

shearing a sheep

There is no other place I'd rather spend time with family and friends, and I'm so glad the boys will grow up with these experiences indelibly printed in their psyche.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

My boys are currently playing on summer baseball teams, which for me basically means 3 hours of futilely attempting to shield my already sun-damaged skin from the oppressive bully known as Colorado sunshine.  At a mile high, we really are closer to it, and its presence does not go unnoticed, believe me.  I get to repeat this process three days later at the games.  I'm now rethinking this whole, give your child an appreciation for being outside, active, and healthy, parenting strategy--raising couch potatoes would certainly be easier on my skin!

This face is one sweet distraction from watching the boys' practices...

And this belly...I honestly have to resist the constant urge to squeeze his stout little body.

Anyway, we've all got baseball on the brain around here, and the universe smiled upon us when the Boston Red Sox (my mother's obsession) scheduled a few games against the Colorado Rockies.  My mother (a.k.a SuperNana) flew in for a couple days with the sole purpose of taking the two older boys to a game.  Kenyon scored some one-on-one time with us, a rarity when you're the youngest of three.  When you take one Red Sox game, one beloved Nana, staying up way past bedtime, and having access to hot dogs, Cracker Jacks, nachos--a virtual motherlode of foods that are not normally consumed in our household--you've got a recipe for two boys that are beside themselves with anticipation.

The Red Sox didn't win that night, but that's a detail that will fade away into lost memory as the boys grow older.  What will stick with them is the love they feel from their Nana, who doesn't mind sleeping in their bottom bunk, who takes the time to teach them and experience the joys of life with them.  Thanks, Mom, for being the SuperNana you are.

Book Love

This week's Girl Talk Thursday Topic: Favorite Books, then and now...

I have always loved books--let's face it, as a daughter of a mother with a master's in Education and a journalist father, I don't think I had much choice in the matter.  We didn't go to toy stores much as a child, but I could always count on getting a new book if I tagged along with my dad to the local mall's B. Dalton.

Following suit, our kids would be very happy if we read them books from sunup til sundown. I'm happy about it and everything, but for real, sometimes I get hoarse. Sam and I regularly get books on tape from the library so we can catch a break once in a while.  Anyway, if I'm going to be reading books over and over (and over) again, they damn well better be good ones. Some of these are classics from my or my husband's childhood (he's 8 years older than me, so there are some definite differences...), and some of these we've either gotten as gifts from my father-in-law who always scopes out the amazingly-illustrated ones or happened upon from friends. Any of these would make great gifts for a wide range of ages--we read these to our 2-year old as well as our 5 and 7 year olds.

Looking for Atlantis: There is so much in these amazingly detailed drawings that you'll see something new each time as you read about a boy's journey of discovery with his grandfather's trunk. Mark my words--I will someday own all of Colin Thompson's books.

Flotsam: A Caldecott winner for illustration, this wordless book is a captivating story about a boy who finds an underwater camera washed up on the beach. This is currently on the top of my list for gift-giving. LOVE it.

Drummer Hoff: One of my husband's favorites. This one also won a Caldecott award for its amazing woodcut illustrations. It's a simple story, but kids like to participate because of the repetitions.

Cars and Trucks and Things That Go: Richard Scarry is the quintessential author of my childhood, and this book is extra wonderful because that crafty little Goldbug is hidden on every page. It's crazy how young kids can memorize where he is, and it's always a crowd pleaser to have your infant who can't even talk yet beat his grandparents in finding Goldbug every time.

In the Night Kitchen: A Maurice Sendak classic but lesser known than Where the Wild Things Are. This one is banned in many places because of (gasp!) child nudity. If you are opposed to child nudity, avert your eyes from the evils of this story. And while you're at it, please don't come over to my house because you will likely be exposed to the double whammy horror of a naked child running around with a book on evolutionary theory.

Wonder Bear: I'm obviously a one-trick pony here. I love the whimsical illustrations in this wordless story about two children's dream fantasy adventure with a bear who grows from a seed. Wordless stories are so fun because even very little ones are so familiar with what's happening that they like to 'read' it to you.













I think you can never go wrong with anything by Dr. Seuss (flows nicely, and stories like Sneetches, Horton Hears a Who, and Oh! The Places You'll Go have great life lessons), Shel Silverstein (pure awesomeness).  I hate Winnie the Pooh--sorry A.A. Milne, you have cute drawings but your stories are cumbersome and boring to read out loud.  Our oldest is now reading some fun bigger-kid books, like the Ramona Quimby series, A Cricket in Times Square, and Spiderwick Chronicles.  We got through the first five books of Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events before it just all became too depressing--those kids never catch a break! 

--I had links to these books on Amazon, but Blogger keeps messing up for some reason so I took them out.  The books are easily found with a Google search, and buy a few copies of each so birthday presents and holidays will be taken care of for the foreseeable future in one fell swoop.