Going to the Bear Lake

The little noisemaker-peacemaker. On the drive up, when Clara would fuss, he'd usually yell along with her/at her. Once, though, he stopped mid-sentence to say, "Oh, I need to talk to my sister. Calm down, Clara, it's okay." It didn't really work.

What do you think you're doing, dad? Taking my picture?

 If you can't be rich, you should know rich people. That's my motto. It's helpful. Some people my dad knows let us use their beach house for a couple of days and we turned it into a vacation extravaganza: seven adults and nine children in a two-bedroom house.

 We spent one morning at Minnetonka Cave. I'd never been before, so it was fun. The kids were a little nervous, but they enjoyed it.We even got to see a couple of bats sleeping. That was Nathan's favorite part.

When we got to the farthest point of the tour, the guide turned off the lights. Did you know if you lived in total darkness for a couple of weeks you'd lose your sight? Turns out eyes like light. While the lights were off the guide tested everyone's diamond rings. She'd shine a laser at the diamond and tiny refractions of red light would bounce on the uneven rock ceiling. Luckily everyone's turned out to be real.

I was impressed at Clara's vocabulary demonstration: dark, wet, outside.  She asked to go outside for about half of the tour.

 The rest of our time was spent at the beach. The water was high and the weather was slightly stormy. It was good times.

 Unless you dislike getting dirty. She was really unhappy if you set her on the sand.

 Going through a tunnel.

 Being unexpectedly pleasant about being in the water. She'd reach over and touch it, but didn't want to be too much in. I can't blame her, though. It was pretty cold still.

 Rediscovering as a family our love for speed rummikub. We grew up playing Rummikub at my grandma's house, and then somewhere as we got older we learned speed rummikub: you just play as fast as you can until all your tiles are gone. What's not to love about that? We could have played all morning if the kids hadn't insisted on going to the beach.

 The next day I put shoes and pants on her, and she gladly sat down to play in the sand. Then she'd want her shoes off to touch the water, and then she'd want them back on because the sand was sticking to her.

 Luckily the cold water didn't diminish our enjoyment of the sand. There was no shortage of sand toys and castles, swimming pools, and roads were built.

 The boys made this little swimming pool and she liked that, until a curly-headed little boy started splashing. Oh, cousins.

We had a great time. Then we came home to catch up on all the sleep we missed. Turns out kids (clara) don't like to go to sleep when not at home. And other kids (Nathan) stay up until 11 and still get up at 6:30. Naps were solely in the car. And we're thinking of going camping for a week? Parenting is a state of perpetual forgetful optimism. Probably because we're so tired we forget how awful it was. But really, we had a fun time.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times

 I'm talking, of course, about my birthday.

 My mother, a very wise woman, told me once that when you're an adult, no one but yourself is going to make sure you have a nice birthday. So make a big deal about your birthday. So I decided to make a day of it at Tracy Aviary. I'd never been that I remember, and we get in free with our dinosaur park passes. What's not to like about that?

 My mom and sister were kind enough to come with me. I really appreciated the extra help in chasing certain children around.

Case in point: Nathan got a little too interested during the bird show. I volunteered to help and got to pretend to be a tree and have a parakeet jump on my arms. When he got to my second arm, he stopped and looked at me for a second, drawing a remark from the bird show man. I think he was just wishing me a happy birthday. Or wondering why I had plastic foliage on my head.

 And what's a birthday outing without a little rain and hail?

 It seems to run in the family.

 And we got to see a duck sitting on her brood of nine eggs.

And then home just in time to go to my presidency meeting. And here's the blessing of going to my meeting instead of going out to a birthday dinner (I wanted to go to Taggart's): When it was time to go home, I was stranded two blocks from my house instead of up past Morgan. (It turned out to be a dead battery, easily fixed the next day.)

I got a ride home, the naps-less kids let loose their tyranny, and I couldn't activate my new cell phone. Angry. I was.

We ended the day in defeat, eating Arby's and watching mediocre sitcoms.

Road Rage Rash

 Cute hair, sad face. That's the situation this week.

 I decided she needed cute hair to compensate. Yesterday her dad made a homeless baby joke, and I think that's more sad than funny. So, she's got to be impeccably groomed so she doesn't look homeless.

Unfortunately, it looks even worse the second day. After a bath and more picking at it, it started to bleed around the edges. And she's got a summer cold so I have to keep wiping right where she's got a little scab under her nose. I'd put a band-aid on it, but the sticky part would just cover more scab and I don't think that would end well. Not to mention her penchant for picking at things. I don't think a band-aid would survive long. Even as a preemie she was very adept at getting things off her face she didn't want there.

Oh, how did this happen, you ask? Well. Sometimes the quickest way to get a ride on the tricycle is a swift push to your sister. Or so somebody thinks. He did feel bad when he saw the blood, though.

Catching Up on June

 Here's some random pictures that don't really coalesce into a solid post with a strong narrative, so I'll just stick them all together. Above, somebody likes brother's birthday present better than he does. But he does like it too.

 After months of ups and downs (oh, so many downs), Nathan finally did it. He filled up in potty sticker chart. And so we got to go to the "engine store," also known as Toys 'R' Us. We'd talked for months about choosing an engine, or Harold. But everything Thomas that he saw, "Can I take this home?" No, you can just choose one thing. Harold it is. He's very excited. And he's doing pretty well with the whole potty thing too. Only one accident in the last week.

 And I had to get Clara her own sunglasses. I'm tired of her fingerprints all over mine. I had to get the polka dot ones, even though they had Barbie on it. No offense, Barbie my friend, but I'm not a big fan of Barbie the fashion icon for my one-year-old. It seems weird.

Later in the day we took dad to see the ducks at Beus Pond. I'm sure he enjoyed it.

 The rest of us did.

And Sunday afternoon, when the boys decided naps in beds just aren't cool anymore. I was just happy the short one decided to take a nap. Unlike today...

The day before Father's Day

 I was a fishing widow this weekend, so here's how things went down. Nathan decided he HAD to have cold black beans, out of the fridge, for breakfast. Yum. They were made even more delicious by being the forbidden fruit, mom having told him no not ten seconds before he popped the lid off.

And Clara, taking a break from teething moroseness and outright agony, decided this paper bag should be a hat. She actually had it on there pretty good before I could get out the camera. This is a lame re-creation.

Other than that, we had some good picnicking at Beus Pond, where, as we were enjoying the geese and ducks, a lone man bummed a few pieces of bread off the couple who had an entire loaf, and gave it to us so my kids could feed the birds. I graciously accepted, and we doled out pieces of cheap refined flour to the birds, bread I wouldn't even buy. Clara, of course, would not throw perfectly good bread to the birds and opened her little mouth every time I offered her a piece. And, all the meanwhile, we all ignored the sign that said Do not feed bread to the ducks. It attracts seagulls which attack ducklings.

Go us. But the ducklings are okay, by the way. Alive and getting bigger.

If I ran the zoo...

I'd go there more often. That's probably not what Dr. Seuss had in mind, but there you have it.

Last week was an extended marathon of grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles. Everybody was there, and that doesn't happen often. So when we get the chance, we do everything we can together. I regret I took so few pictures. But I did get some of our zoo outing.

We were lucky to get good weather, but we were unlucky that it was the hottest day of the year so far. We weren't used to it, and our newly-Canadian cousin was even less used to it. It was hot and exhausting.

 She's not really doing anything, but I cannot get enough of those pigtails.

 Who doesn't love a bronzed rhino? Our favorites for the day were elephants, fruit bats, monkeys, and giraffes. The definite not favorite for several cousins were the animatronic dinosaurs that squirted water and made scary noises.

 This is a futile picture trying to get the giraffe's blue tongue.

 I was at book club the night before, so I gave strict instructions to get the kids to bed on time. And, the report went, they were in bed on time but stayed up to play. This was the result. Clara conked out halfway through, and

 Nathan barricaded himself in the stroller while everyone else enjoyed the playground. He also refused to eat breakfast, so he cared less about seeing the animals and more about getting snacks.

 But everyone perked up when it was time for this. It's all anyone asked for all day.

We had a good week, everyone. Some of the highlights were: Jessica's blessing, playing trucks at the "real construction site," and, as always, the empanada night. Let's do it again sometime, shall we?

Getting you to come out of the woodwork

Hey all. I'm curious about who actually reads this blog. And if you want to continue, I'd best be hearing from you.

We'll be going private here in a couple of weeks. I love sharing our exploits with you, Internet, and will continue to do so. But this will allow me to be lazy about sharing names and such. And I won't worry about people stealing my identity or robbing my house when I blog about going on vacation.

So, one and all, you are welcome. I'll make comments private so your emails won't be visible to the world.