Christmas Cheer

Now that the gorging involved in Thanksgiving has concluded, we're off to the yuletide season. I pulled all the Christmas decorations out of the closet yesterday, much to the amazement of Owen. Tacky, bright and cheerful- this Christmas stuff is great! And I get to hear it OVER and OVER and OVER again. Lucky me! That snowman that bobs to music or that Santa that chants "Remember, the Magic of Christmas lies in your heart!" It's only been 24 hours but I'm wondering where I could hide them and what story I could invite about their dissapearance that would be believable.

Already friends and family members have been asking that burning question on everyone's mind...

What the heck do you want for Christmas?

Well, when it comes to Owen, you need only look at the following Amazon wish list. We've given each thing on the list a priority so be sure to sort that way to see what's high on the list.

Owen's Amazon Wish List

George and I have a few items that we'd love to have, but perhaps the easiest way to clarify is just to offer a list of the places we spend way too much money at:

Anthropologie (I love the bedding and we just got a new King size bed. Also, the clothes are incredible and I wouldn't complain about the opportunity to buy more of those.)

REI (Snowshoes are looking attractive as we round the corner towards another long winter.)

Victoria's Secret has great pajamas this year and if it's one thing the person who works form home can use, it's more PJs.

What could be buy at Home Depot? Well, the list is endless, but an outdoor fireplace or park bench would be cool.

Sears (George got the top part of a Craftsman tool bench last year, so an expansion is in order.)

Bed, Bath and Beyond (ice cream maker, cast iron skillet and more are all on our wish list this year.)

That's it folks! Hope your holidays are happy. And to be truthful, I already got my Christmas wish- Obama in the White House. Thanks to all of you for that!

Letters to the O

Thirty Four Months

If there has been on thing that we could always count on, it has been your honesty. You simply didn’t seem to know how to be deceptive. This has been a tremendous asset when we were potty training. The answers were straight forward, direct and always accurate: Do you need to go potty? No. Did you have an accident? Yes.

This month we kissed all that goodbye. You began to lie about being wet. I could tell when you had been in trouble or had just pooped your pants because your answer to my query of “What are you doing?” was always “Don’t look at me, mama.” Sure fire give away. You also began to be defiant and the answer to everything was no. One day you had made a tremendous mess in the living room. Typically, you are fairly good about cleaning up and I asked you to come over and help me pick up the toys. Your answer was, of course, no. I responded that you did not have a choice and needed to come over and help clean up. You began to put your boots on to go outside and when I asked you where you were going your answer was that you were going outside to play.

“But you may not go outside until you’ve cleaned up your toys, Owen.”
“No, mama. You clean up. You can do it all by yourself.”

You’ve begun to ask why about things quite frequently, but your response to the same question is not quite as rational. Specifically, you’re having a hard time understanding cause and effect. When asked why you’ve pooped your pants yet again, the answer is “Because mama needs to clean them.” Dude, please don’t feel like you need to create more work for me. I assure you- I’d be fine with never having to change another diaper again. Trust me on this one.

This month you began to branch out and try some different foods. Egg sandwiches are now a staple of your diet, but you’ve also added pizza. And just last week you assured us that you “love bacon.” Seriously, kid. We’ve been trying to tell you all along. Pig fat is the way to go. I’ve also convinced you that ice cream is not deadly and fruit gummies are edible. Look like plastic but totally tasty.

We’ve not been without frustrations this month, but your ability to rationalize and communicate has made all of this transitioning to stubborn independence much less dramatic. I think you’ve also got the hang of manipulation, which works in your favor. I recently was nagging you to stop doing something and began to get testy with your back talk. I started to raise my voice, asking you to stand up straight and stop fussing and speak to me like a big boy. I have to confess that I wasn’t really listening to whatever you were saying to me because it was being voiced in the tone of “whine,” and that pitch doesn’t really translate anything but impatience and blind frustration to my brain. You did what I asked, standing tall, and looked me right in the eye.

“Mama, I was trying to say that I love you and I think that you are sweet and kind.”
Congratulations! Welcome to the world of adult manipulation Owen, where the key to getting adults to give you what you want is flattery and the ability to make the other person feel like a total douche. I think you’ll like it here- it’s filled with candy and endless hours of TV based on total guilt and the absence of parental responsibility.

Happy Birthday to me...

For my 33rd birthday, I went out and got this.

Labor Day Leisure 2007

I wrote the following entry after our 2007 labor day trip to Glacier National Park. It's been sitting in our archives, awaiting posting of a batch of pictures to accompany it. It's kind of sad that it's taken us so long, but better late than never.

So here it is- a slice of our last summer revisited...
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George and I have been wanting to go to Glacier National Park for a long time. And since we are living in Utah, which is within a long, tedious day's drive of said national wonder, we thought we'd seize the opportunity of the labor day holiday to visit the park. We've been planning this trip since the Spring and had equipped ourselves with a portable DVD player recently expressly for this purpose. Yes, I have stooped to video entertainment to brainwash my child into numbing submission. But in truth, this is for his own good and the future of his children and his children's children. Because without it, I think Owen may not have actually SURVIVED the monumental amount of time we spent within the small confines of our Dodge 1500.

We got a later start than we anticipated and kicked off with a big breakfast at the Branding Iron, a local favorite with the best bacon around. The three members of our party were the youngest patrons in the restaurant by more than twenty years and the waitresses fawned over Owen's 1,000 watt smile. George and I joke that traveling with Owen is like being in the company of a rock star. He does everything but sign autographs.

Our drive to Glacier was uneventful and familiar until we got to Montana. I haven't spent much time in Montana until now and for those of you who haven't had the honor of visiting "Big Sky" country, let me enlighten you. If everyone in the "Big Sky" country is looking up, it's only because there's nothing but empty, rolling prairie for miles and miles and still more unimaginable miles. Seriously- why look down? It's certain you won't trip over anything. This is a state that seems almost completely devoid of civilization, where the cows outnumber the humans 3 to 1. As we neared Glacier the roads narrowed and the shoulders disappeared, leaving us poised on the edge of steep drop off or in constant danger of colliding with oncoming traffic. We continued driving on these nerve racking roads for hours and when we neared Glacier, the skies grew hazy with smoke from the nearby wildfires and the sun turned a weird, blood red. I had the uneasy feeling that I was somehow trapped in a rerun of the twilight zone.

Most of Glacier's best campgrounds do not take reservations, so we had arranged to stay Thursday night at a KOA just outside the confines of the park in St. Mary so we could go into the park in the early am and snag a premier campsite. George and I had even been far sighted enough to reserve a cabin, knowing we would be too exhausted to manage pitching a tent and setting up camp in the dark. After Owen nodded off for the evening, George and I took advantage of the wireless access at the KOA, surfing the web on the picnic table outside the tent in the company of a good beer and millions of stars.

Next morning we decided to avoid the hassle of hauling our stuff out for breakfast and had some pancakes and terrible, vile coffee at the KOA. We headed first to Many Glacier, a popular campground located on an alternate route in the heart of the park where glaciers and wildlife were said to be more abundant. We bounced down a potholed dirt road dotted by free range cattle and were able to get a nice little site next to an older couple with a dog that Owen adored and continually called "Lizzie" all weekend, despite the fact that he looked like Miles and his name was really "Cody." Brilliant child.

After setting up the tent and our new, improved, over sized tarp to protect against threatening showers, we packed back into the truck for a tour of the park. Glacier National Park is bowl shaped valley carved from the heart of an imposing, frigid mountain range. Dotted with sharply cold blue and green lakes, the road that winds through the Glacier scenery is called "Road to the Sun." Initially it is a modest and well kept road that climbs into the valley on a steady incline, with Lake McDonald at it's feet mirroring the snowy shadows of its peaks. The terrain becomes distinctly alpine, dotted with fir and punctuated by waterfalls cascading down into the road. Once past Logan Pass, the bowl shaped valley unfolds ahead and the road clings to it's side, snaking along the mountain side and leaving heart stopping views of a fatal descent into a deeply forested and lushly green floor. George and I fight our way through construction and manage to see most of the park on Friday, picnicking at the far end at Sprague Creek.

The night brings several thunderstorms that seem to miraculously miss us with only scattered showers and we awake early to a strong wind that whistles through the valley and seems to bring alternately warm and cool drafts. The skies are heavy with clouds but they move quickly, alternating patches of sun and gray. We decided to stick to our plans to hike the 12 mile stretch of the highline trail, which follows the "going to the sun" on a narrow outcropping several hundred feet above. The trail then cuts into the mountains and climbs up the saddle to the Chateau, a back country lodge nearly 8 miles in. From there it is a steep descent back down to "The Loop," a section of the "going to the sun" road named for it's switchback shape. We have left our car at "The Loop" and taken the shuttle up to Logan Pass, where the trail begins.

Initially, it is cold and windy and the threatening skies don't give us much promise. Owen is bundled in double layers and wrapped in a blanket, perched atop Dad in his carrier as we carefully bouncing along the trail that skirts the cliff side. But after an hour or more, the weather clears and we stop our breakneck pace for lunch in a small glen in one of the forested areas. Just a mile or two further on, we switch Owen and I haul him up one of the steepest stretches. The trail description specifies that the ascent is 200 feet or less, but it feels more like 1,000 by the time we stop climbing. Owen in the meantime has drifted off to sleep and his head bounces in time to the rhythm of our footsteps.

I would swear we've gone 8 or more miles and I keep expecting to round a bend in the trail and find the Chateau, a welcome respite to our weariness. When George finally spots the Chateau in the distance, it's a huge disappointment, perched on a gentle slope a solid mile or more away, glistening in the sun like an elusive jewel. George and I mutter our complaints and press on as the day deepens towards afternoon. When we finally stumble into the Chateau camp, we are surrounded by other travelers, most of whom seem to have reached their destination for the evening. We take a long, lovely break, eat some snack, use the outhouse and then strap Owen back in for the trip down. I carry him most of the way as I have the surer footing of the two of us. The descent takes us down through a burned area from a couple years ago when a large portion of the interior of the park caught fire. There's no place to hide from the glare of the alpine sun and we go for several miles without seeing a soul. My shoulders, pinched painfully by the carrier harness, finally give out and George carries Owen the rest of the way to the Loop. The last half mile or more is grueling- an uphill piece that winds through the forested edge of the road and over a creek. We're thrilled to see the truck and make it back to camp, cursing in frustration behind holiday drivers.

Our next day in the park we decided to have a leisurely breakfast, a veritable feast of sausage, onion and tomato omelettes, accompanied by toast, home fries and bacon. We make the long trek back into the park to take a motor boat ride at Apgar, where Owen is lulled to sleep by the waves and the rough wake of the wind. On the way back to camp we pass a park shuttle tipped on it's side in the woods by the lake, a casualty of the dangerous road conditions. We get back later than we had hoped but still with plenty of time to whip up a tofu stirfry and prepare ourselves for a quick getaway in the morning.

We're hoping to visit our friends, Ken and Holly, who are staying for the week at Flagg Ranch, located between Yellowstone and Teton National Parks, which is probably very convenient for them but incredibly not so for us. We have to retrace the tedious drive through Montana and then detour through Yellowstone on Labor Day itself to reach Flagg Ranch. The drive is estimated as 9 hours and it takes us nearly 10 plus before we arrive. Holly and Ken are not in camp and see we opt to stumble into the restaurant at the lodge and buy the most expensive hamburger and nachos known to man. Everyone in the room is a member of AARP and Owen is nearly a hundred decibels louder than everything within those four walls. I give up trying to control his boisterous tones and all the elderly are smiling congenially at him anyway. I suppose they've put enough time between themselves and parenting to gain a certain nostalgia about it. Ah, the joy of grandparenting.

Ken and Holly make it back to camp and we help them rustle up some diner and after Owen beds down, we enjoy the fire for a bit and head off to bed ourselves. The next day arrives too soon and we make breakfast for the crew and then hurry home to more thunderstorms rolling in, unloading the truck in the fury of the rain and wind and settling down to pizza and wings while the trees bend and shake. It has taken us days to recover- I've only just managed to find my way to the bottom of the piles of laundry and dishes. But as the pictures can attest- it was worth it!

Scarred for life

So far my arm has been doing good. It's feeling better, and I am haven't taken any Lortab for over a week. I still wake up 5-10 times a night to move and place my arm in a good position, but I am used it by now. My bandage and wrap seem to keep sliding off my arm down to my wrist, so I re-wrapped the bandage. I was then able to finally see the damage to my elbow. It looks pretty bad, but it was complete open during the surgery. My elbow is complete numb, which the doctor said would happen. At first I was confused, but then I remember the doctor meeting with me and placing a "yes" on my arm. It is to make sure they do the right arm. Looks kind of funny with all the bruising and the taped scar. It really isn't as bad as it looks. It seems I need to rewrap it daily now because the swelling is going down and the bandage was made right after the surgery.

Tuesday I get the bandage off, and finally get to take a shower without a trash bag wrapped around my arm. That should be nice. I also get to play single dad this week because Kaz is off to Phoenix for her job. It's going to be an interesting week.

Letters to the O

Thirty Three Months

At the beginning of this past month, I was dreading writing this because I wasn't sure I would have anything nice to say. You were rude, obnoxious, annoying and defiant. There were way more shouting matches at our house than there should have been simply because you were acting your age. You've spoiled your father and I by continuing to have a sunny temperament and your ability to be expressive about your emotions has avoided most of the symptoms of the terrible twos. So earlier this month when you became difficult, emotionally irrational and stubborn, your father and I looked at each other and sighed. Who on earth was this child and how were we going to live with him for the next year?

And then, as suddenly as it came, the storm passed. You've been sick for the last few weeks with a persistent cold that makes your nose run like a faucet that someone has left on. But otherwise, you've been full of smiles and cheerfully independent. When Dad had his surgery recently, you hung out in the waiting room and surgery prep area for an unprecedented two plus hours, charming the nurses with your 1,000 watt grin. You had the same announcement for the surgery staff when they entered each time:

"Hello. I'm Owen. I'm two years old and it's fifty degrees outside."

Your ability to communicate has escalated to the stream of consciousness phase. If Dad or I ask about your day, we'll get the full meandering story complete with the occasional odd reference and strange event that's made a deep impression on your brain. " I woke up and ate pancakes for breakfast and then I rode in the ruck with Jesse. We saw the drums and the little boy... I helped him. We was small. He wanted to play the drums."

You've become very interested in the TV lately and will actually ask to watch your favorite shows, which include "Wow, Wow Wubbzy" and "Yo Gabba Gabba." Yes, I am totally going to tease you about that when you grow up. You've definitely developed an aversion though to any violence on TV and you'll tell me you don't want to watch something because there is hitting or it's scary. This includes really benign things like Sponge Bob or Aladdin. And I have to agree- I think a talking sponge and Robin Williams are both a little scary in their own way.

We're skipping Halloween again this year and you still haven't caught on yet. You saw a Mummy recently in Lowe's that moaned when you approached it and rattled bit on it's stand. After a first terrified glance, you stood and watched, mesmerized. You even insisted on going back later to have a closer look and later, imitated the sound the mummy made in the car and laughed about it. We passed by a decoration in the grocery store, a headless woman who was holding her head in her hand. You were rather concerned about her health and commented that her head was broken and needed to be fixed.

I went away on a business trip earlier this month and decided to bring you home a gift. You'd been very into elephants and had adopted a small, plastic pink weeble elephant as your personal new best friend, fashioning pajamas for it out of paper and insisting it join you in bath and bed. So I brought home a very lifelike pair of gray stuffed elephants- a mama and a baby. This was, apparently, the coolest thing that I have ever done. You've carried those elephants around every day since then, tucking them in, talking to them non stop and acting out their emotions for them. We recently went to Ikea and you a saw a little stuffed blue elephant that you insisted needed to be brought home to join his family. You refuse however to name them and when prompted reply that this is mommy and baby elephant. The littlest one is small elephant. So much for the creativity genes- I can tell you're totally from Utah.

Surgery

I wish I could properly explain how busy we've been the past couple of months. Things seem to be moving at light speed, and we've just been trying to keep everything in order. As an example fo the craziness, two months ago Kaz went to Phoenix on a business trip from Tuesday through Thursday. I then had to go on a business trip to San Diego on Wednesday through Thursday at the same time. Jesse our babysitter watch Owen overnight. We're so busy that our schedules overlapped without warning.

Anyways, 5 weeks ago my left pinky and the side of my ring finger went numb for no good reason. And it didn't go away. I went to the doctor which referred me to a neurologist to do a nerve test on my arm. He shocked and sticked me with a needle and determined that I had a pinched Ulnar nerve in my elbow. Another referral to a Orthopedic surgeon confirmed the diagnosis. That doctor used words like, "I feel scared for you", "I'd like to at least make sure you have some feeling to prevent hurting the pinky", and " there is no guarantee getting full feeling back". Needless to say, I said how soon can we schedule surgery?

Yesterday I went in for surgery to move the nerve (which is that nerve you feel when you hit your funny bone, in this case it isn't very funny) from around the elbow to the side of it. They cut a 4-6" slash in my arm to get to it, although I haven't seen the scar because I have to wear a bandage wrap for 2 weeks to help it heal. The cut into the muscle a little bit, so it hurts when I move my elbow, but I got full use of my hand, wrist and shoulder.

Today it hurts pretty bad, and my hydro codeine makes me feel funny. They actually gave me 40 pills to use every 4 hours. That is like 6 days of constant pills! I'm definitely not going to be using them all. I'm going to only use it sparingly if at all after today.

So add this to another crazy thing that is making our lives interesting and busy. Next up, at work I have a major product delivery and customer meeting next week that is months in the making, and Kaz gets to go to Phoenix the week after for a full 5 days! Looks like I will be a single dad for a week. What is going to be next?

Unexpected Snow

We woke up this morning to about 4 inches of unexpected snow. It was supposed to snow a little on the benches, and maybe a couple of flakes on the valley. But we didn't expect 4 inches. It eventually snowed 2 more inches to about 6 inches. Total surprise!