Just because

The trouble with group photos

Attempt 2 fails to yield framable photo. The entire sequence is equally priceless.

Debacle

The Christmas card is gonna look pretty funny if I can't get Sawyer to be a little more of a ham. All the work to get everyone dressed up and the photo shoot was a bust. Sawyer screamed like I was twisting a knife in his gut every time I tried to take a picture, and Arden writhed when Justin tried to pose with her. Still - a couple half decent solo shots of Arden and Justin.

Light up the world

Today we had our very first parent-teacher conference for Sawyer. His teachers have identified him as a "feisty" child who is passionate about everything he does. There are three kinds of temperaments born into this world, we learned: flexible, fearful and feisty. Only about 10 percent of children are considered "feisty." According to the definition they: "Tend to live with zest and let everyone know when they are pleased or displeased." They can have long, intense attention spans and need lots of warnings when the activity is about to change. Sawyer is also sometimes fearful, especially in new situations (we knew that). He has very strong verbal skills (thanks to all the reading we do with him), and they are teaching him how to better express his feelings. We also learned that his favorite color is brown. Sawyer is very mature in many ways, his teacher said. Almost like a little adult. And, sometimes, it's easy to forget that he's one of the youngest kids in the class. He loves to be in charge. When the class acted out the "Monkeys Jumping on the Bed" song, lots of kids wanted to be monkeys, lots of kids just wanted to watch. Sawyer immediately volunteered to be the "Momma." Whenever a monkey fell off that bed, Our Sawyer got on that phone, dramatically, called that doctor and — stealing the doctor's line — said: "No more monkeys jumping on the bed." Good thing the doctor was a "flexible" child. So the long and short of it is that Sawyer's kind of high maintenance. As a mom, that's not easy to hear. I had a really hard time with the Baptists on that topic. They just called him stubborn and he spent a lot of time warming the chair in the corner. What I'm pleased to hear is that these teachers are working with him and seem to know the right techniques to help him be successful.

The reward, they say, is that Sawyer lights up the room whenever he walks in and he has made the whole school a livelier place. Now, that's the Sawyer I know and love.

The revolution of snow

Today we woke up to a revolution of snow,

its white flag waving over everything,

the landscape vanished,

not a single mouse to punctuate the blankness,

and beyond these windows

the government buildings smothered,

schools and libraries buried, the post office lost

under the noiseless drift,

the paths of trains softly blocked,

the world fallen under this falling.

In a while, I will put on some boots

and step out like someone walking in water,

and the dog will porpoise through the drifts,

and I will shake a laden branch

sending a cold shower down on us both.

But for now I am a willing prisoner in this house,

a sympathizer with the anarchic cause of snow.

- from "Snow Day" by Billy Collins

SAHD — Week 3.

Scott had some concerns about me posting this video. I think his exact words were: "Don't you dare put that on your blog." But, I couldn't help it. I had to show how well he's fallen into the SAHD (Stay At Home Dad) role these last few weeks. (Did I mention that we pulled Arden out of daycare temporarily?) He's taken Arden to storytime at the library every week and is keeping track of which books he borrows. Last week, he even checked books out in a theme . . . books about snow. I can see his enjoyment of reading with the children growing. He cooks dinner every night – and not just mac-n-cheese and chicken fingers. He cooks pot roasts and soup and pork chops, and I am finally packing on some much needed winter pounds. He knows the location of all the playgrounds in the valley. He's potty training Arden and already has her in underwear. He's even figured out the benefit of "The Schedule" and has got it down to a science. I think the nice part of being the working mom is coming home and KNOWING that the other parent, the one who stayed at home, had a full and totally exhausting day. Sometimes, when I see how much work it is for the two of us to get everyone to bed and dishes cleared and the house straightened, I wonder how I did it by myself for so long. I don't underestimate for one second how much work it is to stay at home alone with the kids all day. And, that said, after two weeks Scott said he doesn't really know how much more of this he has in him. He sent off about 15 resumes and began the search for work in earnest. But, I think he's over the hump, now. It does get easier after that whole routine thing kicks in and everyone gets used to the new m.o. I think he's better at this than he realizes. Today, after I cut him loose for some personal time, I heard him upstairs whistling in the shower. The tune that drifted down the stairs was quite distinct: The isty-bitsy spider went up the water spout . . .

Butter me up

My mom is very proud of the way she got us kids to eat vegetables as children. She would melt a ramekin of butter and we'd go fishing. This worked for asparagus, broccoli, green beans and artichokes. We ate other vegetables too – like cooked carrots and corn – only because they were slathered in a thick layer of buttery, salty goodness. Sawyer discovered his love of melted butter eating crabs. But it wasn't until we read THIS BOOK that he took the first interest in a green vegetable.

We did all the right things when he was a baby, introducing the vegetables first and offering him all sorts of variety. He ate the heck out of strained peas and pureed green beans and even mowed down on some bok choy here and there. I was so proud of my mothering skills, I couldn't help but reach around and pat my own back . . . until he turned about 18 months and began snubbing his nose at any food that wasn't white. Sawyer's entire diet fell to starch, dairy and the occasional banana. I was thrilled when he decided he liked apples. For more than a year I was limited to three dinners (you know the ones) and spent several meals banging my head on the chopping block wondering how I'd created this narrow-palleted monster. I'd watch my friends' kids eat avocado and onion and green peppers with no problem, and I felt like a total failure. I never wanted to be a chicken-finger mom.

This summer I started to notice some subtle changes, starting with the crab. He began tasting new things! He didn't like them all, but he started becoming more adventuresome. He ate corn on the cob, and loved it. And watermellon. What kid doesn't like watermellon, right? And tomato soup, Even chicken soup won a "mmmmmmm!" The other day in the store, after reading the book, he insisted I buy broccoli, which he dipped in a ramekin of butter. While I would have bet 10 bucks he wouldn't eat it, darned if he AND Arden didn't down the whole bunch, pretending they were monsters eating trees. Tonight I even got him to eat spinach pasta (dinosaurs eating grass) and I am so excited I can't even decide how to further expand his repertoire next.

I need to remember that Scott was in his late 30s before he decided he liked oysters, olives and tomatoes and about a dozen other things he refused to eat before he met my family. I even learned that I enjoy a little bit of mayonnaise on my tomato sandwich just this year. It only goes to show, there's always time for an old dog to eat.

Gore Canyon

I lived in Colorado for a decade before accidentally moving to Virgina for 7 years. But, somehow, I never spent much time in this part of the state – that is, anywhere north of I-70 and west of the Great Divide. I realized the other day that while you had to cross the divide TWICE to get to Leadville, this is actually the first time I've put down stakes west of the Big Ridge. I've been getting out on hikes with the kids every weekend since we moved, trying to explore as much as possible before the snow starts sticking and we switch to skis. Scott, for his part, also got the kids out (see photo below) on Friday as part of his daily SAHD adventure. Today temperatures were in the 60s and we headed west, past Kremmling, to a spot we had picked out of a guidebook. As we made our final approach on a typical western dirt road, we rounded a bend and both gasped out loud. The tires screeched as Scott swerved into the closest scenic overlook. I've never seen such a stunning view. At least not in a long while. Gore Canyon took our breath away. It's one of those sights that a photo could never capture — the green Colorado River winding through a steep valley below. The sharp snowy peaks of the Gore Range on the horizon, and beautiful arid steps populated with juniper and sage stretching as far as the eye could see. We hiked three miles along the river's edge, and Sawyer made the whole hike himself, including some pretty treacherous spots on the trails that were washed-out and rocky. The pinnacle of the whole hike was seeing the train that passes through Granby wind its way around a steep cliff above the river. Sawyer stood transfixed for a good 20 minutes and refused to leave until the last train car was out of sight. I also liked the part when Sawyer asked me if there are alligators in the Colorado River.

Postscript: I sincerely apologize for the cheesy music in the video. There was a lot of wind on the video soundtrack, and so I thought I'd drown it out with a Flip Video selection called "Happy Saturday." I had no way of listening to it first, so it was a little bit of a crap shoot, one that – typically – I lost.

A helping hand

Meet our new neighbor

Scott caught this little guy on film while he was out scrounging for food in our backyard Friday. He was young, alone and harmless, but after posting a similar photo on Facebook, my mother couldn't resist sending me THIS.

Happy Halloween

We went trick-or-treating on F Street in Salida, the supposed "Banana Belt" of Colorado, where there was 2 feet of snow as opposed to our 3 inches up north in Middle Park. We had a wonderful time with our friends (the same one who witnessed Puke-o-rama 2009), and I am happy to report that the kids were mostly charming, wonderful and completing buzzing on sugar for the entire weekend. But, because somebody had to puke, their dog barfed up a bunch of candy after we left that my kids may or may not have fed him. Our friends got more into the Halloween spirit than we did, dressing up as Betty Rubble and German-Rumplestiltskin-dude. Sawyer will forever refer to my friend Dara as "that mommy with the bones on her belt," (all adult females are currently called mommies, regardless of whether they actually have offspring). F Street was a zoo. I've seriously never seen so many people trick-or-treating in one place in my entire life. We lasted about an hour, three blocks down and three blocks up, and were completely exhausted by the time we made it home. I don't have a clue what we're going to do with all this candy now. There is no way I'm letting the kids consume it all. Other fun weekend activities included hiking up "S" mountain, through the snow, halfway through which Sawyer turned around and declared, "I LOVE SNOW;" building a snowman and a giant snow slide; walking down an old train track in Leadville, collecting spikes to make a new coat rack; and visiting Jim, aka Milt, one of Scott's groomsmen who left a lasting impression on everyone present at the wedding. On the less productive side, us adults made our way through four bottles of wine Friday night (uh, that's a bottle EACH). Made for a pretty sober Halloween.

Here's a video from Sawyer's arrival at school in costume Thursday.



Have I mention how much I love Sawyer's school?