King Kong Of The Casa

Hey y'all -

Your dad has been out of town this weekend, training with the Civil Air Patrol. He reviewed his life, and decided, "This full-time-job-plus-two-small-children thing just isn't enough to keep me occupied. I need to get me some hobbies." So we've been left to our own devices for the past few days.

Yesterday, we went into town because our friend Tracy was having a yard sale, and when someone who used to own a day care has a yard sale, you GO.

Hagen got a stuffed Curious George that he was pretty excited about:

I especially love the picture below, because it looks like Hagen is doing an impression of an old woman at a Methodist potluck right after she takes a bite of an inferior potato salad: "Bless her heart, y'all, she tries."

Granny Jack has been sending Laney a weekly letter with a dollar inside, and Laney pooled her dollars and bought a Dora The Explorer dollhouse. Hagen likes it as much as she does, because he can climb up on the roof, King Kong-style, and chew on Dora's head. 

The item I couldn't take my eyes off of, in a slow-motion train wreck kinda way, was this bridesmaid's dress. That's right - there was once an evening when two people swore to love each other forever while surrounded by women in fitted crimson lace. I'm just assuming it was evening, since their kind turns to dust when exposed to daylight.

I just love a successful shopping trip, don't you?

Love,
Mom

Zombie on 5th Street

Dear Hagen,

You turned 9 months old today. I would like to tell the world how you bring sunshine with you wherever you go and enrich the lives of everyone you meet, but the world wouldn't be able to hear me over the screaming. About four days ago, you started getting in your first real tooth, and things have turned, as they say in the South, "Ug-leeeee." 

You spend 15 minutes of every hour hollering... all the way around the clock. We've medicated you. We've given you teething rings. We've frozen your favorite crackers. I've even soaked a Q-Tip with cognac and rubbed it on your gums, which didn't help. Then I reloaded it and rubbed it on MY gums, which did help.

You have a cold, the wildfire smoke is bugging you, you can't breathe, and you're getting teeth. Might oughta rethink that Q-Tip, Hoss. 

This morning, you had your 9 month appointment with Dr. Hoover. 

Waiting for the Dr to arrive

You're 56% weight, 56% head, 23% height. 

Shortly after the appointment, you resumed your screaming. The only thing that would get you to hush was if I put you in the stroller and walked you around the neighborhood. So we walked up and down Grandma Sue's street. Over and over and over again. When Peg Peg, (who has seen far too many police procedurals), drives through the same neighborhood twice, she always says, "They prob'ly think we're casing the joint." I'm sure that's exactly what they're thinking about that short redheaded woman driving the Lexus SUV. 

I thought about that today, as I took my sixth sleep-deprived lap around the block. On the seventh lap, I took my camera along and shot some pictures of the neighborhood flowers I'd admired on all my previous walk-bys.

On the ninth lap, you finally fell asleep and I parked you by the front porch, like the saddest old man at Shady Pines Retirement Village. He likes his food strained, and don't wake him up 'til it's time for his meds. 

By the time we'd circled the block so many times, it was time to go pick up your sister from school. She brought a whole new energy to the afternoon, jumping in imaginary puddles, running through sprinklers with Dad, and sharing her applesauce with you.

 One great tip Dr. Hoover gave us was to try children's Zyrtec. It seems to have cleared out your nose and allowed you to sleep. Your dad and I are calling it a miracle drug and doing the dance Laney taught us earlier today:

Happy 9 months, sweet pea.

Love,

Mom

Dr. Laney Makes House Calls

Dear Laney,

Ever since you got that medical kit for your birthday, you've really been into giving people check-ups. Last night, you wanted to give me a thorough physical, so I hid the camera on a stool to record my "appointment" - just like "60 Minutes" does when they want to catch malpractice in action!

A few minutes into my exam, Hagen discovered the camera's little red light, and spends most of this short video trying to get at it.

As a result of this physical, I learned that I have a bird in my ear, my right eye doesn't work, and I have a flaming case of Creepy-itis. I don't know what that last thing is, but I'm pretty sure Aetna doesn't cover it, so I hope it resolves itself.

I also learned that Cedar and her whole family - especially her mom - need medical attention, stat. I think The Other Brooke has bigger problems than a cold if a 3 year-old is her family's primary care provider. Especially since Dr. Laney's go-to procedure is to jab her patients in the eye with a Q-Tip and cut their tongues with surgical scissors, while insisting, "It only hurts a little bit!"

Looks like a campaign ad for universal health care.

Love,
Mom

Indian Summer

Hey y'all - 

We've had the weirdest weather this month. We're surrounded by wildfires and choked by smoke. That map above is an aerial image of the Missoula area. It's awful outside, it's awful inside, and we're all dealing with respiratory issues. But at the same time, the weather is unseasonably warm and beautiful, and the smoke gives the air a warm, orange quality. 

With snowy winter just over the horizon, we can either huddle inside, taking short breaths, or we can go on outside and make the most of the last gasp of sunshine.

Some images from our recent hiking trips:

Foliage on Petty Creek

View from our bedroom window. Hello, ladies.

Leaf peeper

Pine cone

Fearless adventurer

Laney leg dangle

"I'm going to beat Ella!"

Hydration is so important

Miss Congeniality

Hagen hitches a ride with Mom

Every serious hiker brings a monogrammed blanket. 

Stump (It is what it is, people)

Good sport

Take me home, country road.

Jessie's Kids

Hey y'all -

Yesterday, we went to the Frenchtown Family Festival, a campaign event for Jessie. It was a Community Potluck, so everyone had to bring a covered dish and at least one young'un. If we could somehow get suffrage for the under-five set, Jessie would have this election in the bag.

Laney had a great time running around and jumping with the other girls...

...while Hagen took an opportunity to discuss all of his issues with the candidate herself.

Speak to me about turning this carrot I'm holding into a graham cracker. 

Your dad led a game of Duck, Duck, Goose, which was great fun to watch, because the kids always picked the old goose. Your dad ran around in circles until I thought he was going to collapse.

He chose The Other Brooke to be his goose, maybe thinking that he could outrun her. But she was too smart to actually get up and run in a circle. She just grabbed his ankle and clotheslined him, making her my favorite evil genius.

Laney missed her nap, then ran non-stop at the party for almost four hours. By the time things were winding down, she was tired, dirty and ornery. We packed up and left, and had just made it out of the parking lot when we turned around and saw this:

I don't know how you found that pacifier, but somehow it all came together for a Keith-Richards-After-Rocking-Wembley look, as played by a 3 yr old girl.

And not just anyone can pull that off.

Love,
Mom

Ooh Rah

Dear Hagen,

Your hair's been a little out of control lately. The Other Brooke once compared your 'do to that of Jerry Lee Lewis. Never a good sign. And then you developed this Eddie Munster situation around your bangs. Also not good. No one's ever told a barber, "Gimme some Munster in the front, with some ol' Jerry Lee in the back."

...So I decided today that I would cut your hair. And you know what it was like? It was like opening a box of Thin Mints...you eat two from one side of the tray, and then you think, "Might as well even up the rows," so you eat two from the left side of the tray... and on and on 'til, in the process of "evening things up," you're completely out of control and can no longer account for a few dozen cookies.

Not that this has ever happened to me. 

I started with the scissors, but you're such a moving target that I ended up accidentally removing a few big chunks and leaving you with some almost-bald spots. Also, I was more than a little worried that I was going to stab you in the head with the scissors. At this point, I knew things had taken a turn for the unattractive, so I called your dad at work:

Mom: Hey...do you have any objection to me cutting Hagen's hair?
Dad: Nope.
Mom: Okay. See you after work!

That way, if he came home and yelled, "WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIS HAIR?!?" I could say, "What? You told me to."

After making several attempts to even things up, I finally acknowledged defeat, strapped you in your high chair so you couldn't crawl away, and buzzed your hair off with Dad's clippers. Which made you giggle. The result was drastic, but at least it's even.




Your dad came home and changed you into camouflage pants and when you started to crawl across the room, he said, "Ooh rah, soldier!" because you looked like the world's smallest Marine recruit:

I'm going to make lots of mistakes as your mother. At least this one will grow out.

Love,
Mom

Roomies

Hey y'all -

Last week, we started the process of moving you into the bedroom downstairs, where you would live together in everlasting peace, harmony and cleanliness. Yes, I was giggling as I typed that, because who the heck do I think I'm kidding?

Our plan for an upstairs "SANCTUARY!!" has only been moderately successful, since we seem to wake up with an extra three year-old in our bed every morning. Laney used to wake us up at two in the morning to ask, "Can I lie down wit' you?" but now she just climbs in ninja-style, hoping we don't notice. She seems to have grasped early the old adage, "It's easier to get forgiveness than permission."

Just this morning, I put the finishing touches on your room. I was trying to create a space where you'd both have room to work and play, and everyone would have enough space for his or her stuff. I'm happy with the result:

Cedar is coming over for dinner in six hours, because Laney wants to "show her ALL of the toys." I suspect this room will look like this for exactly the next six hours and 15 seconds.

Love,

Mom

Needs vs Wants

Hey y'all -

I got a new lens for my camera yesterday. I went with the classic, "But I neeeeded it," defense, but I don't think your dad is buying it. Eh, well. My bedroom has a stack of unsightly judo mats in the corner right now that your dad needed once upon a time. My thing can be hidden in a purse. Check mate!

This is probably not a healthy way to communicate, so don't listen to me. Just look at the pretty pictures from our picnic in the yard this morning:

Love,

Mom