I did miss a couple days of writing here. Somehow, through some amazing quirk of time and space, my kids managed to grow up, get wise, and move out of the house and into a college dorm. ‘Twas a very busy couple days.
I am a little burned out on blogging lately. So I’m going to take a break for a while. Not sure how long. It’d be nice to spend time doing other things. Like sleeping. I’m going to try sleeping a lot lately.
I’ll alert the media when I decide to come back. Or just give me a few weeks. Whatever.
In the meantime: here are some photos.
Fairies blow bubbles, in this part of Fairyville at least.
Arrrg, bubbles.
At Aunt Christy and Uncle Steve's, watching the Lion King...sucking on a stuffed bunny??! Okaaay
The girls requested a tent the other night, and I managed to get out of it by pure methods of distraction (of which I am quickly becoming a master). Last night they asked for it again, and I felt better (health-ity wise), so out came the sheets.
I love making tents, but it’s hard sometimes to find good ways to make it happen. Last night’s tent was just ‘meh’, but the girls had a good time with frashlights [sic]. Since the lights were off – and since the girls are old enough to understand the science of photography and light and photon packets when using an aperature-priority setting – I decided to show them what you can do with flashlights and a camera.
Enjoy.
House of 1,000 ghost fairies.
I did this. It took me 9 tries to get the S to be non-backwards-like. I'm not that smart, apparently.
Again, me...I just thought it was nice.
Lils did this one. Very nice. Ghostly spaghetti.
Abby was getting cranky, but she managed to swing this rather minimalistic piece.
My Lily creation.
The Abby turned out nicely, I think.
If you’re curious, the bright white area in the last couple are of the light in the kitchen, because I pointed the camera towards it to hasten the shutter close since the kids were really impatient. Which explains why those photos are a little washed out, too.
———-
While I was writing this, I overheard the following exchange while the girls were painting:
Abby: “I’m painting an eagle.”
Lily: “An eagle has wings. And a beautiful wide body.”
Abby: “Eagles can fly.”
Lily: “I know.”
It’s 10:19. Jen was almost entirely absent as a parent tonight while her immune system waged war with John Q. Illness, so I’m tired and I want to go to bed (I did not, however, have a little drink about an hour ago, and it did not go to my head). So I’ll be recapping Denver in an absolute, no holds-barred, stream of consciousness format. My goal is to wrap it all up in 5 minutes or less. Buckle up.
We stayed with friends Krysta and Mike and their daughters Tennyson and Berkeley. They’re the only people I know that are cool enough to name their kids so awesomely. They also make delicious breakfasts and marinara sauce, but not at the same time, because that would be just silly. Their house is fantastic and you can peer down at downtown Denver from their living room and if you step outside when the wind is blowing just right you can smell the beery odors wafting from the Coors plant, which is too bad that it’s just Coors (sorry, Golden), but then it IS a beer wind, so I can’t complain.
They also shared their hot tub with us, which is pointedly awesome when you can drink a beer in 102 (not 101) degree water and lean back and see some pretty fantastic starry expanse, since Golden is a bit higher than Denver, out of the smog, and the air is mountainy clear (Mike measured the altitude, but crap, I already forgot what it was.)
Mike tried his level best to get me to go mountain biking or golfing. This is the kind of host that every person should have. Of course, I wussed out and acquiesced to my aching, sickly self and passed on both offers. Bah.
Saturday we hung out in Golden and did the playground/hang out with kids thing. The girls had a good time, and I forgot how cool Golden is. Clear Creek runs right through it, and we saw people tubing, fishing, swimming, posing on rocks in tutus, kayaking, getting unhappily married, amongst other things. Lunch at the Golden Hotel, which has the longest salad special you’ll ever listen to.
I have no recollection of the afternoon, except that Jen and the girls and Mike and I went for a walk on the path that runs right by their house, down less than a mile to a sweet little playground that has a stellar view of the entire Golden valley playing out below. Mike and I threw the football a bit. Mike overthrew it once. It took me 12 minutes to run it down.
Sunday we packed everyone up and headed to Evergreen, a wee little hamlet just 10 miles into the heart of the Rockies. We drove up I70, and I got glassy eyed with extreme nostalgia of driving that way up to the mountains to go snowboarding, like I’d do so often by myself, on a random weekday because that’s what a flying schedule was like, and I suddenly realized it felt like I was chasing a former life down like a ghost, but in a weirdly good way. We made it Lake Evergreen and met up with old friends Gerry and Lisa and their kids Brady and Carson. It’s nice when you meet old friends and know within the first couple minutes that they haven’t changed a bit. This fact seemed quite clear when I watched Gerry realize that his missing set of keys were stuck under the windshield wiper of a car they’d been driving around for days. Awesome.
So they led us on a walk around half of Lake Evergreen. It went from a full walk around to a halfway thing when Lily and I had to double back a long way so she could use the bathroom, and by the time I made it back it was clear that the kids were getting a bit restless.
We went to Gerry and Lisa’s house. I knew they lived in the mountains, proper, but I wasn’t expecting to drive past sherpas and have to winch my car up to get there. They have a stunning place, and I was all shades of jealous because it’s cute and homey and the views are amazing and the yard is literally the side of a mountain and they still manage to have space for a sweet play area for kids.
They fed us and gave us beer, which is the sort of thing you may expect from friends when you visit but it doesn’t mean you’re any less appreciative of how nice it is to be offered it.
Sunday afternoon I assumed the girls would take a nap, which of course didn’t happen at all. I did. Jen had to wake me up at some point because we piled back in the car, this time to head to Denver to visit Pat and Liz and their daughter Lyla. The route to their place skirted us right around our old neighborhood and we saw some of our old haunts and I was reminded of just how much I liked Denver and how lucky we were to have lived there for a bit.
It was fantastic to see Pat and Liz, mostly because they’re fun and easy to be around, but also because they bought us cupcakes, and that’s something you can’t discount. Our kids played together, and by played I do mean that Lyla mostly watched as the moron twins ran around their yard like ogres, being playful yet overly energetic and brutish. I have a feeling our kids intimidate most new kids that they meet. It’s just a hunch.
Pat and Liz had a nice stretch of tomato plants. A bunch of the grape tomatos were red and ready to be picked, and some others were green. They let the girls pick the red ones. Lily, enthusiastic about this new job of hers, disappeared into a bush that seemed devoid of any pickable fruit and came out a couple minutes later like a diamond miner, a handful of red tomatos in her hands. It made for a good laugh.
The next day we flew out. On the drive to the airport Jen commented on how nice it was to visit. “Yup.” Then she asked if I wanted to look for a job out there. “How serious are you right now, exactly?” She shrugged her shoulders. “50%?” That’s the sort of effect a nice visit can have on you.
(ps. writing this took about 45 minutes. sheesh.)
Loki the cat. I did want to steal him, but chose not to.
Jen driving on 6th and Speer. The building in the distance (not the burger king) is where I worked data entry after getting furloughed at Air Wisconsin.
Mike and Tennyson and the state of Colorado
Daughters on shoulders seemed to be the order of the day.
Our intrepid group. Mike/Krysta/Jen/Gerry/Lisa (kids not even mentioned)
First on the agenda, a quick recap of our night, which was driven by two prime motivations:
1. Make life as easy as possible because I’m still getting over an illness while Jen is just embarking on hers.
2. Make the girls watch “Annie”, Jen’s favorite movie. From childhood. I think. She didn’t really specify a time frame.
Lily stated unequivocably that she was not interested in watching “Annie”. We convinced her that there was lots of singing and dancing and orphans and Albert Finney, and she agreed to watch it. Over the course of the entire movie – which clocks in at a relatively high 2 hours and change – she pleaded over and over and OVER, “Mommy, can you PLEASE turn it off now?” Again and again, she kept telling us that she didn’t like the movie. Oddly, the time between those complaints got longer and longer; and, if you were a sharp-eyed parent like us, you would see her little hands wringing up with concern every time Annie was sad or in danger or something bad was happening. We caught her laughing a couple times. It was truly a glorious thing to watch.
And it made me happy for Jen. I think she really wanted them to like it. I’ll feel the same way when I screen ”Die Hard” for them.
Abby, for the record, seemed to like it a lot, though she couldn’t quite stay focused for the whole thing. After it was over, though, she babbled for 45 minutes about the party she and Punjab were going to.
———-
As pertaining to the Denver trip and some of the hijinks that took place…
The trip out there
As I’d mentioned earlier, the girls took great pity on me. The airport was a ghost town and passing security was a breeze, particularly so after I gave Abby an Oscar-worthy speech about why “your Pooh doll really wants to take a special fun ride through the cool dark tunnel, hooraaay!”
Everything about the airport is fun and exciting. Even the lights.
"They keep changing color! Dad! Dad! Daddy! Do you see!?!"
When we got to the gate area, Abby ran up to the first woman she saw, gave her leg a big hug, then kissed her. This was just some random woman who was sitting at the end of a row of seats, sitting on her ipad learning Chinese, who was attacked by a snot-streaked 3 year old blondie-head. She repeated this later on when we were getting on the plane, and she ran up to the woman taking boarding passes at the podium and did the same thing. I have to wonder what these people think of us.
Before we boarded, though, I felt it was important that we practice the use of headphones, which the girls had not yet used.
Sweeeeet Caroliiiiiiinee...DAH DAH DAH....
She never wanted to take them off.
Then came the boarding. While we were waiting our turn, I told the girls:
Me: “Okay monkeys, we’re about to be cooped up on a plane for two hours. You want to blow off some steam, here’s your chance. Have at it.”
And the result was this:
…for 5 minutes.
For part of that game, Lily kept running past a woman who was eating an apple and reading a book. I could tell that, for whatever reasons possess a 3 year old’s soul, she was very curious about this woman. Then she told me:
Lily: “Daddy, there’s a woman over there eating an apple and reading a book.”
Me: “Yes, I see that, thank you.”
Lily: “I didn’t point or stare, I just did a good job describing her.”
Fantastic. This is a direct result of me – can you guess? – correcting her for pointing or staring at people.
After we got on the jetway, the line of passengers was long, so we had to wait about 10 minutes, slowly shuffling our way down to the Airbus, and Lily kept telling me she wasn’t going to stare at anyone on the plane.
We finally make it down to the plane, and I tell the girls to take a quick peek and they’ll be able to see the flight deck and the pilots. So Abby peeks in. I look, too. The captain was looking back out at us. He waved at Abby. She waved back. Then he starts beckoning her in. She shakes her head. The FA asks if we want to go up.
Me: “Yeah, girls, do you want to go say hi to the pilots?”
Them: “uhhhh…”
Me: “F it, we’re going up.”
So I drag both the kids up. Captain SuperniceGuy gave them the usual song and dance and the girls were dazzled. Meanwhile the FO and I give each other a couple looks. I drop a couple Frontier names I know, he says yeah, then we do the name thing, and find out that our careers overlapped at both Great Lakes and Air Wisconsin. Small world. Nice guy.
We spent at least a few minutes up front chatting (sorry no photos, I dropped the ball) before we turn to head back to our seats. Now, the boarding process went long, so we’re already a few minutes past push time, so when I turn around EVERYone is in their seats, just staring at us. So I hustle the girls, scooping up Abby in the process.
Abby: “Where are we going, Daddy?”
Me: “We’re going to row 19. Go, 19!!”
Abby: “Yay!!! YAY 19!!!”
We got lots of happy looks.
Note the happy guy across the aisle who didn't like us. at. all.
Checking out the moon and the stars and the sky.
The girls did especially well considering the media failures that befell us. First off: Frontier baits you with some free shows for a bit before they start charging you. I didn’t realize that at first, so I tuned the girls into some SpongeBob, and they thought it was fantastic. After a bit, they throw this little warning on the screen:
And the girls watched it like this for 20 minutes without even mentioning it. Considering Lily is the kind of kid that points out a gnat to me from 30 yards away – and won’t let it go until I acknowledge it – makes this even more remarkable.
One of the more exciting moments of the flight came when I tried to give the girls water. They have some water bottles that I really like, but are notoriously wonky with their leakage tendencies. I forgot to factor in the pressurization of an 8,000 foot cabin altitude when I opened one, and the thing shot water out like a kitchen sink.
Nothing like a soaking wet crotch to speed along a solo-parenting-while-sick flight.
I wonder if this wouldn't have made some air marshalls suspicious, had they seen it?
The next fun failure came when I tried to play a movie on my laptop, an activity that I’d promised them both if they were being good, and they had been in spades. And my laptop decided it doesn’t like to play DVDs. Which is odd, since it’s supposed to. Damn technology. I bet an Apple would have worked. But in a glorious turn of events, the girls totally rolled with that little hiccup, not really caring that yet another viewing of Tinker Bell The Movie would go unrealized.
When it was all said and done, the girls acted composed and awesome and did bang-up job staying standing on the train at DIA, and when Mommy came to pick us up the reunion was glorious and amazing and got a lot of smiles from those people standing on the curb.
Part 2 comes tomorrow, when we’ll discuss our trip to Evergreen to see friends Gerry and Lisa and their kids, then to Denver for Pat and Liz, then to bed to turn into a puddle.
The girls and I made it, alive and well, and thanks in no small part to my kids. Here, let me summarize the trip, real-quick-like:
What went badly: the fact that I started getting sick during the day, and by the time we were at the airport I felt absolutely shredded.
What went well: absolutely everything else.
Eventually I’ll roll out the full tale of our travels – they were short and blissfully easy but not totally uninteresting – but for now, here’s some photos, since I’m still feeling like elk poop (which I did step in today).
To sum up, though: one day in makes me want to move back to Colorado. Everybody here rides good bikes. That in itself is reason enough. Plus, good beer, twisty streets, hills-a-plenty. The balls in your court, all my friends and family – who wants to follow us out here?
Loki, the cat, taking in downtown Denver, the view.
Some very serious conversation between Abby and Tennyson.
3 girly girls.
Mike and Tennyson taking in some sights around Golden, CO.
It's blurry, I know, but whatever.
Walking towards the great big M.
Tennyson, swing monkey.
Lils, also a swing monkey.
Abby doing some - according to Jen - rather impressive dance moves.
Of COURSE, when I’m busy packing, that’s the night WordPress deletes on of my posts. Sigh. Ctrl-A, Ctrl-C. I do it all the time. The one time I don’t, that’s when it gets deleted.
Thank you to my brother and sister-in-law for housing my dog and feeding us all tonight and letting us infringe upon you in so many ways.
Dining with food monsters
Tomorrow – dispatches from the mile high city (er, Golden…close enough)
That was my last thought before I left the house today, and the first thought I had once I passed the “no longer worth it to go back home to get something silly like a camera” point. You know the point I’m talking about.
That’s my “there are no photos” story.
So today was Day 3 of JennerLeftMeOnAjetPlane. Just to throw a little wrench into the joy of daily life, I had made a dentist appointment for Lily (“With Dr. Amanda!!?!?”) a while ago…so I dropped Abby off at daycare, and here are the interesting anecdotes of post-leaving-day-care. In BULLET form…because I am one crazy dad.
Got back to the car (I’d left Lily inside, doors locked, and she was fine with that; it was her idea to stay in the car, even), and when I looked in the backseat her eyes were super red. Me: “Lily…have you been crying??” Lily: “[sniffle, snurp] yeh.” Me: “Why, buddy, what’s wrong?” Lily: “I …just…wanted….to go inside….[snick] and get some cereal.” So she was upset that the morning routine was broken, yet she (seemed) to deal with it on her own, in some way, rather than whine or complain to me. This seems significant.
Lily’s dentist wasn’t expecting us until 9:40, so I had figured we’d do some father-daughter time. Off we went to The Egg and I in uptown. My overall impression from this is that we have GOT to, as a family, start setting aside some single-kid time for each other. It’s so different doing one-on-one, where you actually get to listen to the kid. Very different dynamic.
While at the Egg and I, Lily was drawring on her drawring book. She made this picture that was a bunch of circles and lines. And then she tells me this, which is as close an approximation of what she said as my feeble memory can recall - Lily: “And up here is the button. If you push the button, then all the buildings fall over, and the people are sad. And the trees fall over too and then they die. If you push the button.” This scared the crap out of me. Either Dora had an episode about nuclear warfare, or they’ve been showing the “The Day After” at day care. Either way…creepy. Kids are freaky when they do stuff like this. Other than that, lovely breakfast. Eggs Florentine. Mmmmm. And Lily was chatty mc-chatterson with all the wait staff.
Dentist went amazingly easy and she was a total rock star.
Later, that night, during bath, Lily was lying on her back and playing with her hair. Out of nowhere, she states: “My hair is floating. Floating away. To America.” I have no clue what that means.
That’s about it for highlights. Stay tuned for tomorrow, when we’re all headed to Uncle Steve/Aunt Joy/Oliver/Maya’s house to drop off the dog and lose our minds with crazy playtime.
(his grandfather name is Papa. This causes frequent confusion at day care, where one of the girls teachers uses the word papa when talking about me (ie, “Give your papa a hug and kiss goodbye.”), and the girls laugh and laugh and explain that Papa’s not there.)
Sometimes I wonder, when people come over to visit, if there’s a lot of anticipation as to what I’m going to write about them here in the blog.
I’m left to wonder, then, if Jen feels like that every day. It must be terrible, being married to a person who writes in a blog (notice I don’t call myself a “blogger”).
As my Dad will faithfully attest (if you were to ask him; I hope nobody’s fact checking me), the night went well, until some point around about dinner time, when I ran out of gas and lost every ounce of patience with my kids. Well, maybe not every bit of patience. But there are times when, if given the choice, you would gladly wish your kids straight to bed. It’s like a hangover of parenting, after a heady brew of super-hyper-antsy-non-listening kids and a shortage of sleep and just plain bad mood. You just want to throw up and have it be over. Sometimes, even a Papa visit (complete with free food, because that’s how my Dad does things, god bless him) isn’t enough to turn the tide.
I’m being overly dramatic. But parents out there will understand, I’m sure.
So when I put them to bed, I hate myself for thinking that I just wanted to finish the story I was reading (didn’t help that it was 101 Dalmations, and that story is (in that iteration, at least) just horrible, terrible dreck) and be done with parenting for the evening.
The antidote for this will come as it does every time I put them down in a foul temper: in a few minutes I’ll go upstairs to get milks/peek at them, and when I do I’ll stare and stare down at their little faces, and tomorrow morning will come to find me like a brand spanking new Dad.
Works every time.
———-
(Dad, apologies, I forgot to take pictures tonight, so nothing by way of posterity for you. Not visually, at least)
Day 1 of Project JennerBGone (which was in itself a smaller part of Campaign for a Less Jennerful autumn) has been a success. Huzzah!
I can take no credit for what was really just a humdrum day of normal existence.
The key to the first day of a stretch of single parenting is to go slooooow. Ease into it. There’s no call for taking your kids on 4 after work errands with a trip to the MOA and Nick Universe and dance class and a corporate retreat and helicopter lessons. I know those parents on Facebook. I’ve seen their status updates.
Our goal for the afternoon was a peaceful existence. And it came to pass, by the providence of whatever greek god is running the weather show, that the girls and I got dumped on with bucketfuls of rain just as I was picking them up from daycare. This was exactly the excuse I needed to make it a movie night. Popcorn, fruit snacks, pizza, and – of course – edamame. They both seem to enjoy edamame. A healthy dose of salt helps.
Despite it being a cry-free zone for 99% of the evening, we all missed Jen a lot. We talked about it. We asked over and over, “When is Mommy coming home?” despite repeated answers to the question. This will likely continue right up until we board our flight on Friday. “Is Mommy on the plane?” I’m ready for it.
Now THIS is how you watch a movie.
and THIS is some game of superhero that I didn't understand but found quite charming.
I’d love to write about the weekend, but I sadly don’t remember any of it. There are some blurry, bleary recollections of going to a park. I think swim lessons happened. I know for a fact that I had fish tacos and a beer at Longfellow Grill and ate some of the waffles my kids didn’t finish.
Other than that, it’s a freshly wiped slate.
I need a blank slate. I’m going to need as many faculties as I can muster for the coming week, as Jen is winging her way out of Minnesota tomorrow morning for workity work. She’s gone until Friday, at which time the girls and I will fly out to Denver and meet her and show the state of Colorado just how awesome we are.
But before then, I have to survive 4 days rolling solo. So for god’s sake, please let me know if you want to come by and visit. Any night will do.
Here’s the weekend, in photos. To start with, this first bunch was taken 100% by Lily. I set the camera up and gave it to her, and I had no idea what she did with it until just now when I downloaded them.
I’m a more than a little proud.
I have taken untold pictures of Jen, and somehow Lily manages to take a better one than I ever have.
Cute sister shot. I kinda wish I'd been there when she took it.
Pooh!
Elephant! (I think Lils has a natural eye for still-life)
Futon arm. (not sure what she is thinking about when taking these. But they look nice.)
Saturday I made a smoothie for lunch. I was inspired, nutritionally speaking, and put a bunch of raw broccoli in it. I took a taste, and it had a very pungent, detectable broccoli flavor. But Lily asked for a taste, and I oversold it (“Mmmm, wow, dang, holy cats, gadzooks, this is a good smoothie), and they both ended up drinking (gulping) a big glass of it.
I rule.
Delicious
Every few weeks, we have to open up the umbrellas and pretend it’s time for a rainy day walk, despite the fact that it’s 80 degrees outside. It’s hard wired into them to always play this game. Predictably, they do hate actually walking in the rain. Typical.
"It's a rainy sunny shiny grey day! And it's rainy!"
Lily, in the middle of telling me a story.
Abby, in the middle of asking for something or looking confused.
And here are a few from what will likely be our last sprinkler session of the season.
Corrections and Insults