Candy. It's what's for dinner. And lunch. And breakfast.

I was in error when I last wrote that autumn 2013 wasn't up to par. It simply hadn't peaked. The every day views have been spectacular lately. Bursts of auburn, flaming red, translucent yellow, burnt orange, and purple flamingos. The weather has been similarly pleasant, and that includes Halloween night. This time I was prepared for the almost 200 kids that came to our door. Last year, we had to supplement our candy by sneaking some from the kids' buckets (this was not a bad thing). This year we have left overs, so we'll be making little Halloween houses out of graham wafers.

Originally, the costumes were going to be based on Despicable Me. Isaac practically channels the minions, and pretty much the only fruit Anna eats is bananas, so it made sense. However, I recently finished reading The Sorcerer's Stone to the kids, so Anna elected to be Hermione. The practicality of this choice thrilled me. Almost every part of that costume can be worn as regular clothing, so I didn't mind paying a bit more for the pieces. I purchased the shoes, skirt, socks, and sweater. The shoes and socks she needed anyway, and the skirt was on sale. The sweater was certainly too large (and took the longest to find), but I can sort of fit into it provided I avoid the Halloween candy. The cape came from Isaac's Darth Vader costume, and the tie I made out of ribbon and fabric paint. And yes, I did pat myself on the back for that last idea.

This was going to be the first Halloween that Isaac wasn't Darth Vader (I will note here that the costume fits up to age 10, so I hope he comes 'round once again). I had planned out his minion outfit, which was also thrillingly practical and warm should the weather turn chilly. So I was a little annoyed when Jon asked if Isaac wouldn't rather be a Portal Droid?
Of course he wanted to be a portal droid. What Portal obsessed boy of four wouldn't want to be a Portal droid? I admit I shot some daggers from my eyes at this point. But Jon bravely took on the challenge and planned a great costume using only items from around the house. The portal gun was ingenious. Jon cobbled it together using water bottles, a milk jug, a Nerf gun, and various glowing things. The costume itself was simple, involving white and black clothing and glow sticks.

Of course, these are descriptions of costumes at their most pristine, and that pristine moment was fleeting. Almost immediately after leaving the house, Isaac decided the gun was too heavy. Shortly thereafter, the glow sticks in his socks became itchy and the hat was too hot. Anna's robe was too long and the weight of her 1 ounce wand/stick was simply too much given the ballast of the candy that quickly filled her bucket. Of course, this did facilitate Jon's adopted persona of Sherpa.

I elected to loosen the reigns on candy consumption this time, at least for 24 hours day. I let them eat a bunch after trick-or-treating and the next day. I didn't actually suggest they eat candy, but every time they asked I paused, took a deep breath, and said, "Go ahead." I then proceeded to avert my eyes.
I began weaning them off the next day, and now I let them pick out three pieces in the morning, and they can eat them whenever they want. But that's it - no dessert, no other treats, and everything else is wonderfully and horribly healthy. I did this last year and it continues to go over well. I also see an improvement in Isaac's self control in that he is pacing out his consumption. We did talk a bit about giving away some candy - perhaps sending a bit to the troops overseas who don't get any treats. Isaac listened closely, and very thoughtfully picked out 4 pieces of candy. Anna didn't even bother. To summarize: self-control is up, empathy is down. 

Our jack-o-lanterns also reflected recent interests, although their meaning was opaque to all but the most enlightened of trick-or-treaters. Anna carved out the Mincraft creeper herself, and no injuries were reported. Isaac wanted a Portal theme, so we used one of the Aperature Science logos. I think our family status is now solidly at "geek." I am good with this.

Autumn also means parent-teacher conferences at Anna's school. Overall, she's doing well which isn't surprising. Writing and math are her favorite activities (other than art and gym and lunch and recess, which shall always take precedence). What did surprise me a bit is that she is reading slightly above grade level. It's hard to articulate why this was unexpected, but perhaps it's because her  comprehension so far exceed her verbal production. So part of me believes she should be reading much better. However, I also see her struggle to read, as well as flip letters and numbers and words with great regularity. So part of me assumed she would be a bit behind. Her teacher assured me that this flipping is still developmentally normal - at least until the end of this year. However, Anna is an "older" first grader with a dyslexic dad. So, I guess we'll keep an eye on it.
The other surprising thing is that my dear girl is showing her softer, more... melodramatic side at school. I assumed she saved her tears and penchant for wilting for home, but apparently not. She cries (whimpers?) at least once a day, usually about every day struggles like forgetting a book or not being able to finish her writing at that exact moment. Her teacher is not stern or particularly strict, and is working to assure Anna that these little mishaps are not worth the emotional pain she's ascribing to them. She was wondering if maybe there was something else going on, but I assured her that this is kind of a personality issue with a side of bad habit. Regardless, we're both flummoxed as to the best way to handle this. I think my girl is aware that all this crying is inappropriate, but claims that she just can't help it. I'm not sure what to make of that. I think there's a melodramatic tendency showing itself; perhaps simple immaturity. What I'm dreading, and what her teacher is also dreading, is the social implications of this bad habit. She's going to get hammered by her peers if this doesn't get under control.

And now I am off to collect various children from various places so we can head to the dentist. Anna's last set of fillings is today and she is excited to see the end of Tarzan while in the chair. I am excited to stop giving the dentist my credit card.

October, and the weather is fine.

We're at that very interesting time in autumn, where there is just enough yellow in the green leaves to give the appearance of spring-time buds. This is a slightly discombobulating effect.
It is firmly autumn, however. Not the glorious, colorful autumn we observed last year, but there are still some flaming red trees here and there. Overall, the weather has been very pleasant. Back in Colorado, fall often brought with it biting winds, but that is not the case here. I have been quite happy to leave the winds back west.

We've had a busy October, filled with family. My parents visited early in the month - the first time they've come at the same time. We picked apples and made loads of applesauce (which summarily destroyed my crock pot, but it was worth it). The gals went out for sushi and the guys went out for burgers. We went shopping, decided the thickest milk shakes are at Chick 'fil A, and showed off various scooter and biking skills. We enjoyed hanging out on the soccer field to watch Anna practice one evening, and even Grandma got into the act kicking a ball around with Isaac. There were walks, and lunches, and treats, and just the general goodness of grandparents. It's always a bit like Christmas when family comes to visit.
Jon and I even had the opportunity to go on a hike one morning - we hadn't done that in ages, and it was nice to explore the area a bit.

The day after my parents left, we drove to a resort in the middle of Virginia to meet up with Jon's parents, his sister, and her family. It was five days of glorious cousin chaos in the Blue Ridge Mountains. This was our first visit there, but hopefully not our last. There was so much to do, from go-karts and mini-golf to nature talks, caverns, and water slides. But at the end of every day, when asked what they liked best, the kids always said the same thing: being with cousins. For Jon and I, it was nice to just get away for a bit - it renews one's perspective. 

                                                                     Luray Caverns

Since coming back, we've been trying to establish a routine. Now that Isaac's schooling has changed, my own schedule has been in flux. Things are slowly solidifying, but it's still a work in progress. I've also been abnormally tired, which has made my evenings less productive. Some days it's all I can do to stay awake until 8:30 (when the kids are in bed - technically, anyway). Luckily, I'm okay during the day (thank you, caffeine), but around 5:00 things get hard. So, once soccer is over, we're going to take a break from the extra-curriculars until January.

Fall is always a full season, and at our house it includes Anna's birthday. I had been kind of dreading having a party, since I wasn't sure who to invite or what we should do. But in the spirit of simplicity, we're keeping it small (6 guests) and it will be at home. I guess a home party isn't exactly simple, but I'm excited about the theme. It will be a Harry Potter party - Anna's idea since we've just finished reading the first book. I'm collecting ideas and plans, and am really looking forward to it.

Regarding the job search, no news yet. Some days, I feel certain something will come through. Other days I suspect we'll be here for a long time, a thought that brings panicky feelings. This is a terribly unfair reaction, considering the community we're starting to build. Maybe that's the problem. I'm skittish about building up a community, only to say goodbye yet again. And yet, to not invest in relationships is time wasted. Hopefully clarity will come soon.

A different year than expected

Today is Isaac's first day at a new preschool, and I am filled with a cacophony of emotions.

Sadness about leaving the old preschool which Isaac and I both loved.
Frustration at the inaction which led to our departure.
Hopefulness about this new school.
Thankfulness because Isaac knows one of the boys in this class.
Annoyance that I may not receive any tuition back from the old school.
Blessed by how God has worked out the details such that Isaac can still attend preschool even if we are not reimbursed.
Guilt about removing Isaac from a familiar place with familiar people. 
Confusion about how to deal with my schedule now that it has turned upside down. 
Residual anxiety from two weeks of agonizing about this situation.
Worry that I did not make the right choice.
Confidence that this was the only rational option.
More worry.
Repeat.

Briefly, the situation is this: For awhile, I've been uncomfortable with certain aspects of Isaac's former school. This discomfort was not without warrant, and last year promises were made to parents that the situation would be rectified. It was on the basis of these promises that I enrolled Isaac in the program for this year. However, the changes were not been made and it recently became apparent that plans were moving slowly, if at all.
At the beginning of this school year, I tried to shake off my unease. After all, all the other parents seemed nonchalant so perhaps I was over-dramatizing the risks. I do tend to be hyper-vigilant [Jon, laughing: you think?!], but at least I have some self-awareness about this and can generally (sometimes) take my emotions down a notch before acting. But my unease didn't dissipate over the weeks, so I finally discussed my concerns with Jon. He has the knack of seeing things clearly and bringing me back to reality. So I was surprised, and a bit dismayed, when he shared my concerns and said we should act. So I double checked my facts and talked it over with a friend who also tends to be level headed, and could offer a more objective opinion. She agreed with Jon.

Well, nuts. Obviously I now had to do something, and all roads led to monumental efforts on my part. I needed to confront the school administration (ack), as well as make a decision regarding Isaac's future. After all, other preschool slots were filling up fast.
To make a long story short, after much prayer and thought, I did both of those things. And they were very very hard. In the end I removed Isaac from his school, and it has been a heart-breaking decision. I know it's tempting to think of this year as "just preschool," but I think that's a disingenuous attitude. Yes, this is one year in the life of a small boy but I would argue it's an important year. At this age, routines and familiarity are so very important. Feeling secure in one's surroundings frees up a young mind to learn both the ABCs as well as foundational social skills. And from his perspective it must seem like I ripped that security away. It was still the right decision, but also the worst.

What gives me hope is what seems to be working out at the new school. I chose this particular school because Isaac has a friend in the class. Furthermore, I will be looking after this friend a couple of mornings a week, which will provide just enough income to cover the cost of Isaac's tuition (even if I don't get reimbursed). This arrangement is an answer to prayer for both his mom, and me.

So God has provided, which I think is the moral of this story. He provided what was needed, when it was needed. No more, no less. This theme also applies to what is happening at Isaac's former preschool. After I let them know that I was taking Isaac out, the wheels of change sped up. Maybe a coincidence, but I'd like to think we had something to do with it. Removing a child from a program makes a bigger statement than never enrolling them in the first place. We may lose all that tuition money, but I have faith it is for a good cause.

Nine schools, seven states, two countries. So far.

This week I spent most of my time working on the pile of things I have ignored for many weeks. (Some of these are literal piles located on the floor of my daughter's room. Of course, she views them as motifs.) Until recently, all our efforts were focused on Jon's applications for faculty positions. And now they're submitted, and we're feeling a little spent. Applications are not only an intellectual exercise, but for me also an emotional one. In the spring we felt pretty strongly that it was time to begin this process, but we have no indication of what the outcome will be. And even less information on when it will be. Jon is an excellent candidate, in a field riddled with excellent candidates. Candidates who did not spend some of their post-graduate lives in industry (which is not considered a plus in many disciplines - their loss). And to add to the difficulty, there weren't a ton of openings in his particular niche. I say all this, not to bemoan our present state, but to highlight the fact that securing a faculty position will be a miraculous event. That is, if/when this happens, you can know a miracle has occurred.
So in the interim, we are waiting. We're not sure how long we have to wait, or when the waiting will be over, or what exactly we're waiting for, or what we should do during the wait. I guess we are also learning contentment.

More interesting, is that the kids are back in school. Anna now takes the bus, which I was hesitant about at first. Happily, however, busing turns out to be a blessing for everyone. For me, it's easier to get everyone out the door and down the street, compared to out the door and in the car. For her, it's created a positive in-between time, with the commute helping the transition between her at-home self and her at-school self. [Does this mean she is most herself on the bus? Oh, to be a bug on the windshield.] School itself is also going fine. Math, spatial reasoning, and art continue to be her strong suits, and reading continues to improve. Like many elementary-age kids, she's in that tough spot, where her verbal comprehension far exceeds her written comprehension. I know I would rather read The Wizard of Oz than Hop on Pop, and so would she. So, we do both.

In fact, we're more intentional about incorporating homework and and formal reading into our family time this year, and it's been great on many levels. After dinner, Isaac does some preschool-level work with one parent, while Anna completes her assigned homework with the other. This includes math, reading, and some extra vocabulary stuff we've thrown in. Nothing ground-breaking, we've just made this a formal priority. One of the consequences is a commitment to avoid extracurricular activities after dinner time. This has reduced our after-school options, considerably, but it's worth it for us. I really look forward to this focused time with the kids, and I think they do, too.

As for Isaac, he does not want to go to school. No surprise there. He is too busy playing! Such a busy busy little man. But he is learning a lot, and is always in high spirits when I pick him up. Unlike Anna, for whom the preschool days all seemed a blur, he is more than happy to recount the various things he did and the various people he did them with. He seems to have a knack for names, and I suspect he will be an early reader. Not that I'm nudging him in that direction, or anything. As soon as the kids learn to read, I'm going to have to be a lot more careful about the news sites I read (since our computer is in the center of the action at our house), and the Christmas lists I leave around. And I can hardly wait to explain the billboards advertising adult stores. Ugh. Early reading is like early walking. A mixed blessing.

The one extra-curricular we are doing is soccer. Both kids are enrolled, and one of them loves it. Guess who? I think soccer is a great sport - lots of running, learning how to work with a team, and having to attend to the ball. Alas, Anna is one of the less experienced players on her team, so that's provided all the struggles you might expect. Jon's been coaching her, and there's been much improvement, but I don't think we'll do this again next year. I just don't have it in me to continue dragging her to the games. At least I bought her blue soccer shoes, so Isaac will eventually get to wear them. Swimming lessons may be the next thing we do. It's an important, potentially life-saving skill, and may be worth the trouble. But before that, there's still a couple more months of soccer to get through.

Thursday already?

Things have felt a little out of control lately. This is probably why I went to Target and bought a bunch of organizational bins for our dining room. This room has become our defacto art center, although it looks more like a disaster than a center. Anyway, if I can't control my life, at least I can organize the markers and glue.

One of our recent challenges is simply a full schedule. I volunteered to help at our church's VBS, which would have been enough in itself, but I somehow scheduled a bunch of other things at the same time. Jon was also absent at a conference somewhere in there. A conference in Las Vegas, engendering more sympathy than anything else. It is July, after all, and Vegas is not the sort of city either of us is fond of. Jon's main observations about his time there: (1) there were a lot of children considering the lack of kid-friendly activities, (2) Cirque du Soleil has basically taken over, (3) Caesar's Palace is indeed palatial, (4) food is expensive, but actually good, (5) it is strange to look out the window at 6 a.m. and see empty streets save for a van driving in circles, with "Girls Girls Girls" written on the side.
We were both happy when he returned.

Back to VBS, which was quite a bit of fun. This is a church that really values its children and their education. Many people were involved in the program, regardless of whether they had children attending. This contributed to the excellent organization, since responsibilities could be spread out. There were also a lot of teens involved, and they displayed great maturity and a willingness to take on responsibility. I think they're excellent role models for my kids.
The downside of the week was some of the belief systems that came to light. I'm going to write pretty freely here, since no one from our church reads this blog and I don't think that will change in the near future. The short story is that they seem to ascribe to an aggressive form of young-earth creationism. For the uninitiated, this is the belief that the earth was created by God in six days, and is only a few thousand years old. Now to be clear, it is not this teaching per se that I find troublesome. Rather, it is the conflation of a young earth theory with "science".
My thinking is this: if you believe God created the world in six days, embrace it! Go for it wholeheartedly, without reservation! Treat it as the miracle it is. Because surely this would count as a miracle. And what is a miracle? It is an act of God that transcends space, time, physics, science, etc. In other words, you don't need science to explain it. Let science be. Don't feel like you have to justify your belief in a miracle, because that will lead to very sketchy "science" and (il)logical mental gymnastics that can cause migraines.
Furthermore, don't tell me that because I believe in a God of patience and attention to detail, a God that used billions of years to ever-so-carefully create the universe, that I am on the brink of denying the truth of the bible.
And do not tell me that dinosaurs were on the ark. Do. Not. Go. There.

This was a stressful discovery about our church, and we're wondering what to do about it. There's certainly an argument for letting it go, particularly if creation doesn't come up in the kids' curriculum. In general, I really like their overall theology, teachings, etc. On the other hand, the view they seem to espouse is so aggressive that I wonder if they'd be open to us becoming members. So, we're thinking about next steps.

It was also that week that I had a follow up visit with my doctor. You may recall that in my last post I mentioned that I had some blood tests done, due to my illness while on vacation. Well, turns out they were not all negative. So, I am referred to a specialist who is booked until November. I really wish I was the sort of person who could just let information like this slide off my back. After all, the results were "not terrible" and there's nothing life-threatening going on.
But, I am not that person and so I googled the vague blood test results listed on the referral. This was a stupid stupid thing to do, but I did it. (You would, too. Admit it!) What will probably happen is that the doctor will take a wait-and-see approach, which will be unsatisfying. On one hand, a diagnosis would simply suck. On the other hand, if I'm being completely honest, it would be nice to have a label to hang my various symptoms on. Things that started over the winter and continue to be bothersome now. "Not terrible," of course.

All of these events have been happening against the backdrop of one big (happy!) thing, which is that Jon is gearing up to apply for academic jobs. We've really felt a pull in this direction, and have tried to be prayerful about it. So, there's been a lot of writing and thinking about teaching, research, etc. I feel strongly that Jon would thrive in the academic environment, and he could really make an impact. Not just through his research, but through his mentoring of students. Although he has had limited opportunity to practice this skill, he's also a pretty good teacher. He'll start applying to job postings within a month, and we have some strong ideas about where we'd like to end up. But it's really completely out of our hands. So in the meantime I'm organizing markers.

The ants go marching

     "It goes by many names: The Crisis, The Dark [Days], The Walking Plague, as well as newer and more 'hip' titles such as World War [B] or [B] War One. I personally dislike this last moniker as it implies an inevitable B War Two. For me, it will always be The [Bug] War, and while many may protest the scientific accuracy of the word [bug], they will be hard-pressed to discover a more globally accepted term for the creatures that [invaded my kitchen.]"  - Excerpt from World War [B]

     Maybe I'm overstating the case here, but the discovery that ants had a tidy little provision line set up in our kitchen was an unwelcome discovery when we returned home last week. Since then, there's been constant skirmishes and battles. Alas, winter is nowhere in sight.
     Ants were not the only unhappy surprise. We arrived in the midst of a serious heat wave, which here means "sticky, oppressive mugginess with suffocating temperatures above 95 degrees." Needless to say, the kids and I took advantage of the pool most days and I was thankful for the a/c every day. Although the pool wasn't exactly cool it was at least colder than the hot tub, which strangely had people in it every day that we were present. A little weird, yes?

Other random thoughts from the week:
- Regardless of whether the temperature is +40 C or -40 C, the effect on my life is about the same. We tend to stay inside, although outside activities are not entirely out of the question; the car is a horrid place to climb into; the time required to put on sunscreen versus snow suit is about the same. 
- Traveling back to Denver after our ranch excursion, I could not believe that we were not driving straight to our old house. How could we not be living there? I did not want to leave CO. But having been back in our MD house for a bit, I am in fact happy to be in my own space. I am enjoying "home," wherever that is.
- Simply gorgeous thunderstorms visited us this week. Some with the moon back-lighting the cumulus clouds. Some with constant cloud-to-cloud lightning. Some with impressive streaks to the ground. All eluding my attempts to photograph them.
- We saw our first movie as a family: Despicable Me 2. This was a highly anticipated event in our family, due largely to the minions. The kids love those little guys and we may coordinate our Halloween costumes accordingly. My overall review: 3/5 stars. Held the kids attention more or less, but I was counting the minutes about mid-way through.
I'm more excited about Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs 2. So many puns! And that leek joke gets me every time.
- In my last post, I mentioned that my altitude sickness was pretty bad while we were in the west. In truth, it was really bad and lasted beyond the duration of the trip. So I visited the doctor and had some tests run, and they all came back normal. While good news for my overall health, it also means I can expect to be decimated whenever we go back out west. Perhaps I am showing my age?
- It's cherry season, so my addiction is in full bloom. I suppose someone needs to save me from myself, but I really don't want them to.
- Speaking of food, my mom introduced me to this Yonanas thing. So far, I've managed to avoid going out and buying one myself, but I think I may cave today. It's kind of fantastic. Not as fantastic as cherries, but still pretty good.
- This week my kids neither want to visit the library, nor pick fruit at one of the local orchards. Obviously, we are doing something terribly wrong.
- Lately, my kids love nothing better in the evening than to curl up with a bowl of popcorn and watch Stephen Hawking pontificate on life, the universe, and everything. Obviously, we are doing something terribly right.

Floods, fires, friends, family

I have a thing for alliteration.
Anyway, we just returned home after a whirlwind 3 1/2 weeks. The kids and I were in Canada for a couple of weeks (Alberta and Saskatchewan), meeting up with Jon at DIA. We stayed in the Denver area for one night, then it was an early start to New Mexico, near Taos. There we gathered with Jon's extended family for a few nights. Next up, a drive to a dude ranch near Durango for four nights with Jon's immediate family to celebrate his parents' 50th wedding anniversary. Finally, back to the Denver area for two nights, then hopped a plane to BWI.

So let's do the numbers:
Four flights
Four airports,
Eleven flight hours (taxiing not included)
Five beds
Thirty hours on the road
Two provinces
Two states
Three family reunions
One giant dinosaur (more on that later)

Given the velocity of it all, I'm not sure vacation is the appropriate descriptor. But enjoyment is in there, as is refreshing, and suspension of work. The logistics were difficult, but it was a good trip. I was sad when it was over.
In light of the scope of the past month, I'm taking a cue from my brother-in-law who chose to describe his vacation in terms of memorable moments, instead of favorite ones.

Here are a few memories that will stand out:

1) Floods. The night the kids and I landed in Calgary, the heavens opened and flooded out downtown, the zoo, the Stampede grounds, and our favorite camping spot in the mountains. This was/is a major event in the history of this city. My folks' house was unaffected, so it was hard to fathom the devastation that was occurring so close. Among the notable details was the difference in how the local authorities handled the devastation, compared to what one might expect in the U.S. Perhaps I'm wrong, but I can't imagine U.S. authorities denying homeowners access to their houses until welcome centers and hardware stores were opened. Additionally, I seriously doubt American authorities would enter private citizens' homes to remove any guns before allowing people back. On the other hand, no one was abandoned in a conference center.

2) Fires. While Calgary was flooded out, large portions of the southwest were on fire. I checked the Denver Post regularly for updated area and road closures, wondering if our travel plans would be affected by the now routine mega-fires. Thankfully, all was well in our travel vicinity.

3) More floods. I drove through the worst rainstorm of my life... in Denver. To be clear, Denver certainly gets downpours, but they usually don't last as long as an hour. And I'm usually not driving a low-lying hybrid car when they happen. And I generally don't worry about floating away in a river that used to be Wadsworth Blvd.

4) Prayer. I met with a couple of friends from my CO prayer group one morning. We sat outside at a cafe, caught up, and prayed for each other. I really miss that. 

5) Family. Saskatoon is a homey city, surrounded by a rolling prairie ocean, and filled with my extended family. What I will remember is their hospitality, despite my absence from the region for over a decade. I will also remember the heat, the paddling pools, and Anna driving a team of Welsh horses. 
In New Mexico, we met up with Jon's extended family. What I will remember is the lack of superficial conversations. I will also remember running four miles around the lake and not dying from altitude sickness. I think the kids will remember the elaborate city they created in the woods, running from Ruzers, and being rated on millinery by the Mad Hatter's chaotic bench of judges. 

6) Firsts.
   - Isaac's first movie in an actual theater, with Uncle T and Miss Jean. (Will he will remember that it was Monster's University?) 
    - Anna's first time riding horses. At the dude ranch she was assigned Gidget, a golden horse with a braided name, a gentle soul, and indifference at Anna's inability to remember her name. I treasure the memory of my girl decked out in a pink western shirt and pink cowboy hat, riding her horse forward and backward and all over the place. I could barely get my horse to stop and go.
    - Anna catching her first (two) fish
    - Isaac's first boat ride
    - Mommy (and Anna) tubing for the first time. Turns out tubing is fun, which was... unexpected.

7) Falling. My sister-in-law was bucked off her skittish horse the first day. But she got back on right away, and rode every day since. I surely would not have done the same.

8) Food. At the ranch we enjoyed gourmet meals constantly. But what I really enjoyed was the hour before dinner, drinking mojitos on the deck, watching the plethora of hummingbirds, and chatting with family.

9) Altitude. We've gone from sea level to CO before and it always had an effect. Usually Jon would get nausea for 1-3 days and I would feel anemic. This time we were slammed: flu-like symptoms, violent chills, aching joints, exhaustion, etc. But in terms of illness most of the news was very good. No one came down with a virus, and the kids were seemingly unaffected by the altitude. Perhaps Jon and I were simply showing our age.

10) Dinosaurs. On our way to Saskatchewan we stopped in Drumheller, Canada's paleontological mecca. Although we didn't visit the museum, we made the most of the visitor center. The kids and I climbed to the top of their resident T-Rex and looked out the mouth. We were also attacked by swarms of mosquitoes, so we didn't stay long.

11) Patience. We visited Calaway Park with my parents, and Anna busted out her super-hero skill: waiting in lines. That girl can wait in lines like no child I've seen. She went on every scary ride she could find, regardless of the wait. Luckily my Dad was there and rode them all with her. Isaac was too small for the scariest, so I spent much time explaining that he could ride them next summer. This explanation was marginally successful.