Wordless Wednesday--Cute Overload

Three-year old boy + homemade cookies + a mother's slight bias= the cutest picture EVER 



photo credit: Jerry Goff



Progress Towards Down Under

In 12 short weeks, our family of five will board a plane bound for northern California to spend some time with my husband's family out in the redwoods.  We've taken this trip many times, but the only difference between this trip and others we have been on is that from there, we're flying halfway around the world to live for a year.

Now, I'm all about to-do lists, but there's so much stuff to do to prepare that even the to-do list seems daunting to manage.  We're not just leaving our home, but the Australian family we're exchanging with will be living in it as well.

We've been tackling some house projects, because our 106-year old home has some, shall we say, quirks.  I love character, and our house has plenty of it, but does a leaky faucet add character?  How about a rotting windowsill in the upstairs bathroom shower?  Ummmm...looking around the house and glancing down at my WWTAFT (What Would The Australian Family Think?) bracelet, I knew we had our work cut out for us.

I'm happy to report that we performed some amateur surgery and gave the house a mini-facelift.  The trim had always been primer-white, so we toned it down with a cream color with plum and green accents.  I think the plum on the floor of the porch looks great, and the porch ceiling is a lighter purple.  I thought this would be a quick project, but I conveniently forgot that sanding peeling paint, taping, and priming the billions of posts in the railing had to happen before the actual application of the new color.  It was endless.  Before and after pictures don't look too drastically different, but the in-person experience is waaaaaay enhanced.  Phase 2, which includes the trim around the windows and soffits, will happen AA (After Australia).


Before

After

porch showing the column detail and ceiling

We also took care of the leaky faucet, continued work on the tree fort outside, and have been making strides to get rid of clutter.  Our youngest child will be nearing 5 years old when we return, so we're purging little kid toys, books, and equipment.  The rotting windowsill has been rebuilt and repainted, a relatively quick fix that should last at least until our return.  I painted the bathroom trim to match the window, so while I had the painting vibe I just went ahead and painted the rest of upstairs bathroom last night because I'm a crazy person I had nothing better to do.  

The house is whipping itself into shape.  But a spiffy house doesn't get a family of five to Australia for a year.  Sam is incapable of handling any sort of paperwork, so I dutifully filled out our visa application, made sure we had additional passport photos and attached the requisite proof that these children are actually ours, that Sam and I are actually bound for life by marriage, etc.

Cross your fingers that the visas will be approved on time, because they supposedly take about 12 weeks and I sent mine out just 2 weeks ago.  That's not much wiggle room for dealing with the snail's pace of the US federal government...

Ode to Reading

As the youngest brother, Kenyon keeps a keen eye on the older two.  As with many youngest siblings, we're seeing that this place in the family is producing a 3 and a half year old with some advanced skills.  Now, many of these skills aren't necessarily the ones you think about when you fondly picture older siblings bestowing their knowledge upon their younger counterparts.  One such recent skill--farting on demand--has had disastrous results of which I'll spare you the details.  But--some very delightful skills are passed along as well.  Kenyon has the benefit of having his brothers model their curiosity for the world and love of learning; in particular, a love of reading.

Jackson, at 8 years old, is a self-proclaimed Harry Potter expert, having read the series backwards and forwards.  He is now immersed in the tales of Percy Jackson.  Alex, at 6 years old, is just shy of finishing the 4th Harry Potter book.  Our dinner table conversation is often sprinkled with Harry Potter trivia challenges shot back and forth between these two, each one trying to best the other.  It's also sprinkled with us saying that knees should not be visible at the table, that bubbles shouldn't be blown into milk, and that food should stay on their plates, but I digress....

Our Friday afternoons unfailingly include a trip to the Park Hill library to stock up on fresh supplies to start our weekend.  Each of us leave with armfuls of books and books on tape, arrive home, and I watch from a safe distance while they pounce on the stack like wolves.

If Kenyon is anything like the readers that his brothers are, I'd be thrilled (and I may begrudgingly accept the less-tolerable skills they've handed down.............Okay, it's doubtful, but I don't know if I have any choice.).

side note--if you have very young children and haven't yet heard of BOB books, trust me--just go ahead and buy them.  I typically heavily favor library rental, but in this case it's worth the purchase.  Here--I've made it easy for you.  The link to the first series (currently on sale!) on Amazon is here (and I have not been compensated by anyone for writing this).  Be forewarned--no thrilling plot lines or witty characters grace these pages, but they are the ideal very first books for kids to gain confidence in their ability to read.

Last month, I set off on a hunt for the elusive BOB book series that was rumored to be hiding in the wily depths of our basement storage space.  I happy to report that I completed the mission, narrowly escaping an untimely death by teetering stack of paint cans.  I dusted off the trusty Set 1 of the BOB books which helped my other sons identify themselves as readers and gauged Kenyon's interest in reading.  He got through a couple of pages but he didn't really have the stamina for more than that, so I didn't push it and they sat for a while, untouched on the living room bookshelf.

Shortly after we woke up on a recent Sunday morning, Kenyon randomly asked me if he should read a BOB book.  I responded that it was a great idea, and we cozied up on the couch.  The first book contains just four letters and short vowel sounds, but still, he read the whole book (and the second one as well) and was so proud!  A brief video of Kenyon's first real attempt at reading a page is below for your viewing pleasure...

Tour de Fat!

Now that our family has upped the number of non-training wheel bike riders to four, we decided to participate in this year's Tour de Fat.  Although this awesome yearly event was created by a competing brewery *cough cough* New Belgium *cough cough*, and to be honest I'm not a fan of their beer at all, I have to say they put on one hell of a fun event, right in our beloved City Park.  What could be better than a costumed bike parade through the beautiful city streets of Denver with friends, followed by a fun festival in the park?

the start of the parade (Alex is in the lower right hand corner with the yellow t-shirt and lucha libre mask)

The 5.8 mile bike was the boys' longest, and they had a blast.  Thankfully, Kenyon was tucked into the Burley attached to Sam's bike, because keeping an eye on three boys on wheels amongst the costumed frenzy would have been an impossible feat. 

Here are some glimpses of the day, in pictures…

We wove our way through City Park, Uptown, Cheeseman Park, and downtown, passing some of my favorite buildings.  I really love Denver…

Back at the park, there was an area set up where daring festivalgoers could try out all sorts of oddball bike contraptions…

The boys and their friends, dressed for the occasion.

For any of you out there who live in San Francisco, San Diego, LA, Tempe, or Austin--a Tour de Fat is still coming your way, so check out the upcoming tour dates.

The Little Things, Part 1

This morning on NPR I heard a quote from Cormac McCarthy's book, The Road, that stuck with me.  "You forget the things you want to remember and you remember the things you want to forget."  Jackson, Alex, and Kenyon--it's the little things about daily life with you that are so wonderfully rich, and often I am so busy experiencing those things with that I don't take the time to record them.  I'm going to make an effort to start more regularly posting some of these recent memorable moments so we can look back and laugh, and so you can know your younger selves.

Jackson, on the way home from school I was telling you how I want us to visit the Bellinger River while we're traveling in Australia, and how I read that we could see platypuses there.  I thought it sounded so neat, but you immediately cautioned me that male platypuses have poisonous spurs on their back legs.  You recently told me that you want to be a park ranger when you grow up.  With all your knowledge of the outdoors that you've amassed already, sweetheart, I think you'd be a great ranger.

Alex, I went on your fall camping trip with your 1st grade crew.  I was battling a cold and it rained the whole time, but you were so sweet to check in with me about how I was feeling, and you and all your friends were so positive despite the wet weather.  As we hiked, the adventure coordinator told you and your classmates to find an interesting rock to share.  During the sharing, kids said things like, "I liked this rock because it was really shiny," and "This rock was so smooth."  The adventure coordinator compared his to an Oreo cookie because it had two layers of black with white in between.  When it was your turn, you said matter-of-factly, "This is a rose quartz.  It's a semi-precious stone."  You, Alex, are so, so precious to me.

Kenyon, the other day you came up to me while I was standing and you hugged your body close to mine, burying your head in my legs.  You looked up at me sweetly and said, "I'm nestling my head in your balls."  I didn't know whether to be proud of the fact that you used the word 'nestled' or dismayed at my parenting because you thought I actually had balls.  The worst part is, I didn't correct you.  I sincerely apologize for any confusion this may cause you in the future.

I Did It

Well, August 21 had the audacity to march its sassy little self right up on the calendar and there wasn't much I could do about it. A triathlon--who, me? Now, that's just a bunch of crazy talk! But there August 21 sat on my calendar, smugly waiting to see if I'd feign illness or simply bury my head under the pillow until leisurely, comfortable August 22 rolled around.

Doesn't the bible say something about it being a sin to get up and head to an athletic event before the sun has risen? There I was, driving to the Aurora Reservoir with everything I'd need to (hopefully) survive the day--swim gear, bike gear, running gear...and my mom, who was kind enough to fly in for the weekend to witness this momentous occasion.

I felt a bit like the new girl in school who had just moved into town a day earlier as I awkwardly got my bike and gear out of the car and made my way to the transition area, pretending like I did this sort of thing all the time. It would have been much more fun to have a friend doing the tri as well (no guilt intended, Summer!), but I couldn't rally any troops.  

Once my arm was marked with my bib number and my wetsuit was on, though, I didn't have all that much time to fret.  Like the possibility I'd start too fast and burn out, unable to finish the race.  Or the fact that merely a month earlier after my swim race in the testing-the-waters relay tri I was completely exhausted and never would have been able to bike, let alone bike and run.  hahahahahaha, a 5k?  I hate running.  Anyway, I was suddenly at the water's edge and it was Go Time.

Triathlon times are broken down into the following categories: swim, transition #1, bike, transition #2, and run.  In the interest of full disclosure, I'll include my times for the race.  Don't judge; it was my first race!

The 500m swim is short for a sprint triathlon; typically it's 750m.  Although I didn't feel particularly fast in the water, I felt fine coming up on the sand and in the picture you can see I'm already reaching behind for the cord to unzip the wetsuit.  Thanks to the handy wetsuit strippers, I got out of that suit in no time.  Underneath, I was wearing the DeSoto Carrera Tri Capri shorts and Nike Drifit top that I'd wear for the rest of the race.

Official Swim Time: 12:46, which I thought was surprisingly slow until I learned that it also included the time getting out of the wetsuit and crossing the line into the transition area.

Official Transition #1 Time: 1:02.  Not bad for finding my bike amongst a sea of bikes, gulping down some coconut water and a bite of Luna bar, applying sunscreen, putting on my bike shoes and helmet, and heading out the gate.

Now, I'm no bicyclist.  My bicycling history includes the following: being the last person in my neighborhood to learn to ride a bike (I was a strictly Big Wheel kid for longer than I'd care to admit), and as I've mentioned before, hitchhiking in college after a bicycle ride went much further than anticipated.  There's no Tour de France yearnings here, folks. 

I had the good fortune to borrow my friend's husband's bike for the past 6 weeks, and my training consisted of riding 6-8 miles at a time through City Park and the leafy streets of Park Hill.  Well, you can imagine my surprise during the 12-mile bike race when I found myself approaching a decent-sized hill.  And then another.  And then another one, and this one seems....massive.  My only thought as I trudged up the 'hill' (the word 'Alp' is more fitting; I saw two people walking their bikes up) was that it was going to be awfully fun zooming down this thing.  There were certainly lots of people on fancy tri bikes with their disc wheels passing me, but I really enjoyed myself. 

Side note:  I Googled 'tri bike disc wheels' to see if that's really what these high-tech wheels are called, and I saw that the price for ONE WHEEL is between $1034 and $2074.  You'd think for that amount of money you'd also get you a magic potion to transport you and your bike up the hill in a flash, or at the very least a sturdy sherpa.

Official Bike Time: 46:38.  For some reason I have no idea how to figure out my average speed...

Official Transition #2 Time: 2:10.  This includes getting my bike back to the rack, removing helmet and bike shoes, and putting on socks and running shoes, and heading out for the run.

My training leading up to the race focused on running, since I'm not a runner.  At all.  A 5k (3.1 mile) distance is not huge, but prior to this summer it might as well have been a marathon.  I became comfortable running 2.7 miles around the City Park Golf Course, and I even had some great 3.5 mile runs.  But I didn't know how I'd feel after swimming and biking, and I don't do well running in the hot sun, either.

It was hot, but the breeze saved me for sure.  My goal was to not walk at all, and I only allowed myself to walk a teensy bit as I navigated the turnaround at the halfway point.  At that point, a girl passed me and offered some kind words of encouragement, which invigorated me enough to start running again. 

I was happy and relieved when the end, including my cheering family, was in sight.  Kenyon ran up and held my hand so we could cross the finish line together, and my other two boys were so proud, saying I was the best person in the world.  It felt great to share the occasion with my mom, my husband, and my three favorite boys.

Official Run Time: 30:18, with a pace of 9:46.  That was much better than I had expected, considering the fact that I didn't feel swift at all.

I had a fear that everyone would act like Captain Racey McTriathlon and I would feel really intimidated and unworthy, but the truth is everyone was totally supportive, encouraging, and there was a thread of positivity running through the entire event.

Official Standings: Final time of 1:32:54.  19th out of 38 in my age group (30-34 year old women) and 246th out of 434 men and women.

While I don't think I'll be getting those disc wheels anytime soon, I will definitely compete in a sprint triathlon again--my next race recap will be from Australia.  And when we're back in Denver, I'll be recruiting a bunch of friends to do the tri with me--you ladies know who you are and you have two years to become good swimmers!

Maine 2011

This year we squeezed in a trip to Maine despite our Halt On Travel To Save Money For Australia plan.  We didn't go last year, and we got a great deal on the flight to Boston, so I caved.  I love that my kids are as enamored with the Maine house that my grandparents built and jumping off the dock at Moose Pond as I am.  When it comes to classic family summer vacations, it's just so darn hard to beat Maine.

Because we now have 385,284,275 house projects left before we leave for Australia (we managed to complete 2 but added 6 more), and I'm competing in a triathlon next weekend, I'm going to let the pictures do most of the talking for this post.

We spent every one of our 7 days in Maine at the lake, loading up with boogie boards, oars, and a stocked cooler shortly after breakfast and returning home after lunch for a rest.  Before dinner, we'd head back for some more swimming, and after dinner a group would venture out yet again for fishing.  The beach chairs are an upgrade from when my grandparents sat and chatted there 30 years ago, but everything else is amazingly, wonderfully, the same.

Pleasant Mountain, view from the beach

my boys, on the rock that seemed so huge when I jumped off it as a kid

cousins out on the dock

Sam enjoying a sand castle meditation

The fish didn't bite much this year; I didn't catch a single one.  My brother clearly had the magic touch and caught something each day, but the kids definitely got an exercise in patience.  Jackson and Alex never got a nibble in the brutally hot fishing tournament, but they were excited to fish every day nonetheless.  

Jackson, Lexie and Alex

Alex in a moment of heavy concentration

Is it just me, or should this be a rain slicker ad (hear me, Target?)

Patience paid off, and there were some successes.

Nana with her catch

Kenyon keeping a lookout for the giant snapping turtle

Kenyon, Jackson, Alex, and cousin Dylan waiting for the results of the fishing tournament

As the next step of stretching his wings, we allowed Jackson to go out fishing on a boat, with just his 10-year old cousin and a friend.  For two hours.  I had a knot in my stomach in the beginning (okay, for at least an hour), but they came back right on time.  They had caught a fish and rode to an island, where they made a fire, cooked the fish, and ate it.  That's the stuff 8-year old boy dreams are made of right there, and I'm so happy that he got to do it.  

Whenever I applied sunscreen, Alex asked me to make sure I protected his freckles.  I love this one.

At one point, there were 14 people (eight of them children) in the modest 4-bedroom home, providing a hearty dose of togetherness.  It's tough enough as a parent to decide when to step in during your own children's disagreements, but even harder with friends or cousins that are used to different norms or parenting styles.  It went well, considering, but there of course was a certain amount of cousin-torture and drama.

reading with Uncle Matt

cousin bunkroom with the same sheets I used 30 years ago.  Are multicolor swirls still all the rage? :)

cousins shucking corn

lobster and mussel feast for Nana's birthday

Lexie and Captain Eyelashes

Maine, we will miss you next year, but as always, we can't wait to come back.